by Lynde Lakes
“Like the agents who were guarding Sara Jane and me? Look where their optimism got them. They’re dead.”
Matt sat down on the concrete bench that circled the fountain and drew her down beside him. “Okay, what’s bothering you, Molly?”
“Someone wanted Parker to kill you. He refused, but the next guy who takes his place won’t. I know you have to go back to the ranch, but I’m afraid for you.”
His pulse beat a deafening roar in his ears. “I haven’t decided about going back, yet.”
She glanced up at him but said nothing. They sat listening to the quiet splash of the fountain.
“You hired extra guards,” she said, breaking the silence. “We’re in danger here, too, aren’t we?”
The vow not to lie to her had come back to bite him. “If Ramon is one of Del Fuego’s men, then the crime boss knows where you are.” He couldn’t spell it out any plainer than that.
Molly rubbed her arms. “I’ve felt so safe here, but perhaps no place is safe.”
“Until you told me about Ramon, I thought—” There was no point in discussing the past. Matt put his arm around her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll find a safe place. We just need a little more time. If we’re right about what’s on the microchips, we can round up Del Fuego and his men. Then—” But Matt didn’t want to promise anything until he was sure he could deliver it. “You said you had something to tell me.”
“Memories are beginning to fall into place.” Her words were velvety soft, fluid and as husky as a lover’s whisper in the darkness. “I remember making love with you.” She lowered her gaze to her hands in her lap. “That I loved you.” Her voice broke. “And how much it hurt when you left me.”
His heart thudded so hard he thought it might burst out of his chest—she remembered them together. It was what he wanted, prayed for. “Can you forgive me?”
He was encouraged that she didn’t shrug his arm from around her shoulders. He waited. She was trembling. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he said when she didn’t speak. “I had no choice. I tried to get assigned to protect you, but—” His explanation sounded so feeble he couldn’t continue.
She didn’t look at him. She turned in his arms and stirred the pooling fountain waters with the tips of her fingers. “You’re assigned to protect me now. Still, you’re going to leave me. I know that.”
He didn’t know it. But until he could weigh all the pros and cons…Damn. He wanted to give her a safe, worry-free world, but all he could give her was his love and uncertainty. “I was going to wait, but maybe if I give this to you now…”
He withdrew the slim jewelry box from his pocket and handed it to her.
Her eyes widened. “For me?”
Matt watched her pulse throb in the delicate hollow of her neck. He longed to trace it with his fingertip, with his lips. He remained motionless, waiting to see her reaction to the gift.
She opened the box, withdrew the gold heart-shaped locket, and held it up to the light of the dancing waters.
“A reminder that you have my heart.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said. “When did you get this?” Her lips were moist, inviting.
“I bought it in Mitchell’s Corner before—” His throat went dry. He didn’t want to think about Parker’s death right now. Right now, he wanted to thread his fingers into the fiery tangles of her thick auburn hair and kiss those tempting lips. But his brother’s murder pushed at the edges of his mind, torturing him.
Without warning, Molly threw her arms around his neck with such exuberant joy that she knocked him off balance. His Stetson went flying, and he felt himself falling, Molly going with him. He couldn’t stop the momentum. They slipped over the edge of the fountain and hit the water with a tremendous splash. She let out a yelp. He stiffened, expecting the water to be cold, but it was tepid, and he relaxed into the backward roll that took them beneath the surface.
They came up coughing and sputtering. Then, she was laughing. “Matt, I’m so sorry!” She still clung to the necklace.
Her sopping purple shirt molded to her torso, and the nipples of her high-tipped breasts budded to life. White-hot desire shot through him. Silence fell between them. He moved closer, backing her up against the solid curve of the fountain. For a moment, they just looked at each other, and then everything inside him stilled to a healing calm. He pressed closer, and her wet top squished against his soaked shirt. With great care, she placed the necklace on the ledge, then her hands slid up his chest and over his shoulders. Her fingers tunneled into the hair at his nape, drawing him closer.
Matt yearned to peel her shirt away, to see the whiteness of her skin, to feel its softness. His fingers traced the base of her throat. She waited, motionless. Emerald waters splashed and bubbled around them.
He kissed the corner of her lips, traced the outline of them with feathery touches, then parted them with a strong thrust of his tongue. He sank into the familiar honeyed moisture of her mouth. His loins throbbed. One taste of her brought back all that they had been to each other and blended with all that he wanted them to be in the future. Impatience hummed through him like currents through a high frequency wire. He deepened the kiss, unable to get enough of her. She corralled him with her legs. They were hurtling toward a point of no return. Vaguely, he heard laughter, but he was too far gone to care.
Molly tried to shove him away, fighting to catch her breath.
“Don’t push me away, Molly.”
“Matt! Someone’s coming.”
Then it hit him. They were in a well-lit fountain in full view of anyone who might look out the window of the house and of anyone who might wander by.
“Can we join the pool party?” Suzy called, her voice full of laughter. Her hips, molded by cut-off shorts, swayed flirtatiously. She dropped Roberto’s hand and picked up Matt’s Stetson from the dirt. She dusted it off on her bare thighs, then perched it on her head with a playful tilt. “If I pulled something like this, Dad would ground me for six months.”
Matt groaned. As if exposing Molly to embarrassment wasn’t bad enough, he’d just set a very bad example for a couple of impressionable teenagers. Nice move, cowboy.
Chapter Nine
Suzy and Roberto took Matt and Molly through the mudroom entrance of the ranch house and brought them towels and white terry cloth robes.
“Thanks,” Molly said with genuine gratitude. She wasn’t comfortable about changing in a room where others could enter at any time, but she didn’t want to drip water through the house, either.
Suzy removed Matt’s hat from her head and sailed it toward him. When it landed squarely atop his wavy crown of damp hair, she winked saucily. “Y’all behave yourselves now, ya hear?”
Roberto blushed and trailed after Suzy as she headed for the kitchen, her peals of laughter ringing long after she’d gone.
Matt grinned and settled his Stetson more firmly on his head. “That boy is in for a wild bronco ride with that filly.”
Molly dried her hair with one of the big white towels and smiled. “When I dumped you into the fountain, I’ll bet you felt you got a pretty wild ride yourself.”
“My feelings about you were fixed long before the dip in the fountain, little darlin’.”
“I’m not even going to open that chute.” She had other concerns. She had to get changed in this cramped space with a man she’d kissed with passionate abandon only minutes ago. If they saw each other nude, they would start necking again and…
She removed the necklace from the pocket of her soaked shirt. She debated putting on her new treasure. No. Not a good idea. It might get tangled in my wet hair. She slipped the jewelry into the pocket of the robe.
To protect herself from her still high-tilt passion, she wanted to ask him to step outside. But having him wait outside in the dark until she got changed wasn’t a good way to convince people they were married.
Matt turned away. “I won’t look. And you better not either, or you won’t be able to keep your hands
off me.”
Molly shook her head and laughed. “Conceited devil!” Of course, he had good cause for his arrogance, judging by how he looked in the plastered-to-the-body fit of his wet shirt and soaked jeans.
“Not conceited—practical. Next time we get in a lip-lock, I want privacy.”
“Lip-lock? Your romantic words make me swoon.” Next time rang in her head. She turned away, warm tingles dancing over her skin.
The hiss of wet cloth separating from moist bodies snaked through the silence. Matt’s belt buckle hit the floor with a metallic thud.
Oh, God. Hurry. Hurry. Trembling, Molly shrugged out of her bra and into the robe. She stepped out of the white cotton bikini panties now dangling around her ankles and used her big toe to tuck them under her other garments. No doubt Matt was nude by now, his clothes in a heap in front of him. She counted to ten to keep from turning to verify her assumption.
“Okay to turn around now?”
She cinched her terry belt tight. “Anytime.”
They both turned. She laughed. “You’re wearing your Stetson with the robe? Powerful fashion statement, cowboy.”
The plunging vee of his terry robe revealed a sparse snarl of inky hair over a well-muscled chest. He slid his hand over the exposed skin. “Security thing. I may be naked under this robe, but a cowboy never feels naked with his hat on.”
A picture she was sure he hadn’t intended popped into her mind—Matt naked as Michelangelo’s David and wearing only that big black Stetson. Heat climbed up her cheeks. Or maybe the image was exactly what he intended. She wouldn’t put it past him. Darn him. By the time she figured out his game, it would be over.
They gathered their sopping clothing from the floor, and Matt wrung the shirts and jeans out over the deep stainless steel sink.
When he came to her bra and panties at the bottom of the pile, he dangled them before her. “Bet you look great in these.”
She grabbed them from his hands. “That’s for me to know and you to find out!” she replied, borrowing some of Suzy’s sexy, playful sauciness. She marched outside into the moonlight to hang them on the clothesline.
He flipped on the porch light and followed with the rest of the clothing. “Never thought hanging up wet clothes could be so much fun.”
She laughed. “You really need to get out more.”
Before they headed upstairs, they aligned their boots on the porch. Tomorrow morning, the hot wind and Texas sun would begin the drying process.
“Hey, little darlin’. Don’t our boots look nice ’n’ cozy sittin’ there side by side?”
She was thinking the same thing. She took off through the foyer into the living room ahead of him so he wouldn’t see her smile. He caught up with her by the time she headed up the wide stairway. The mesquite wood steps felt cool under her bare feet, but nothing could cool her desire. They exchanged glances and laughed, neither certain what the other was thinking.
When they entered their dimly lit suite, Tita gave them a once-over but said nothing about their robes. She tucked a bookmark between the pages of her novel and rose from the overstuffed lounge chair. “The little angel is changed and had a bottle, señora. She’s already asleep.”
Molly smiled. It felt good to have the señora status again. She thanked Tita for babysitting, and when the door closed, she whispered, “I hope you’re paying her enough, Matt. That woman is a treasure.” Molly unwrapped the towel from her head and used it to fluff her damp hair. “Speaking of money, is the FBI picking up my expenses, or are you running a tab that I’ll have to settle up later?”
Matt made a beeline for the crib. He looked down at Sara Jane with tremendous love in his eyes. He kissed the tip of his finger and touched it to the sleeping baby’s cheek. “Most everything is courtesy of the U.S. government.” His tone was husky, barely above a whisper. “You’re a mighty important witness.” He sauntered toward her with a dangerous gleam in his eyes that looked promising.
She withdrew the necklace from her pocket and dangled it in front of his eyes. “Was this from the government, too?”
“Nope. Strictly from me.”
She knew that but loved teasing him. “Then I’ll accept it. Will you put it on for me?” Memories of hot kisses in the fountain sent a wave of heat to her core. Like a pyromaniac with one match and a whole can of lighter fluid, she wanted to see if she could ignite a bigger and better flame.
“My pleasure.” His low voice rumbled with sensuality. Ever so slowly, he withdrew the delicate chain from her fingers, the cool gold links slipping away with her breath. He moved behind her. “Lift your hair.”
With both hands, she lifted the damp tresses out of the way. His breath was warm on her neck as he brought the necklace around. The silence in the room thundered against the walls and boomeranged back. Molly closed her eyes. When the locket came to rest in the valley between her breasts, Matt’s callused fingers fumbled at the nape of her neck, then the chain took form and he fastened the clasp.
“Thank y—” Her breath caught and her throat constricted as Matt kissed her nape with warm, moist lips. Before she could recover, he rained kisses along the side of her neck and nibbled an ear lobe. Her skin came alive with shivery tingles, and her knees lost substance. She leaned into him. His upper torso pressed against her back, and the smell of chlorine mingled with the scent of his leathery soap and teased her senses.
His hands slipped from her shoulders, down her sides, while he caressed her curves before his arms wrapped around her. He stilled and just held her crushed tight against the hard length of his body. Heat rippled between them, the warm night air flowing through the open window unequal to the task of cooling their fire.
Soft music from another part of the house drifted in. Matt turned Molly to him and touched her face. She pressed her lips into his hand. “I remember the last time we were together,” she said, surprised that the memory came with such ease. The same song had been playing that night. “We went up to the roof garden of the Adolphus Hotel and made love under the stars.”
“That wasn’t the last time.”
The news didn’t register because an old wound had suddenly split wide open. She tried to ignore the pain, but it was too great. She glared up at him. “The next morning you told me you couldn’t go with me into the witness program. Then…you were gone.”
She started to twist away, but he held her fast. “Darlin’, I want to give you promises—to make up for that other time—but I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow.” His voice broke, then he touched the necklace. “But you have my heart. And tonight we have each other.”
His face was a collage of emotions—love, pain, hope, regret. She touched the fine lines at the corners of his eyes. In spite of all he’d suffered in the last few hours he’d used his steely control to set aside his pain to allow them this interlude they both so desperately needed.
She closed her hand over his, still resting on the little golden heart, and the bond between them rose like a phoenix from the ashes of her lost memory, stronger than ever before. Because of all they’d shared in the last forty-eight hours they now had mutual trust. Regardless of what happened tomorrow, no one could steal that trust, or her love for him. All resistance fell away, and she slid her arms up, let her fingers glide over his biceps, around his neck. “Tonight we have each other,” she said, repeating his words.
“Oh, Molly.”
He moaned. He covered her mouth with his. The kiss was tentative at first. Oh, God. She remembered how it had been between them—the love, the fire—and she wanted it again. She drew him closer.
Their tongues met, explored. The fever of their melded bodies burned through layers of terry cloth, heat seeking heat. He backed her against the wall.
He tugged at the knot on her belt. It gave, and the warmth of his hand closed around her breast. She gasped and her eyelids drifted shut. His soft, damp hair brushed her skin as he traced kisses downward to her nipples, sucking one and then the other.
“Don’t want to neglect either of these beauties,” he said with a huskiness that drove her wild.
She laughed within, and shivered with desire. The delicious sensations made her limbs weak. She explored the hardness and width of his chest, seeking solidarity with flesh and spirit. He glanced toward the king-size bed. “I’ll bet that’s more comfortable than my puny daybed.”
“It’s a place to start,” she said, a little breathless. “But narrow beds can be good, too, as I recall.”
“God, you do remember.” His eyes glistened like she’d given him a great gift. “What a night that was. But tonight will be even better.”
Together, they stumbled into the darkest part of the room. Shadows played with shadows on the wall, on the ceiling. Matt yanked away the spread, and they climbed onto the sheet, meeting in the center on their knees. With seeking hands, they slid away the open robes, faced each other with no lies. No promises.
She traced the sinewy muscles of his arms, and they closed around her. Then, in the same way she had toppled him into the fountain, he toppled her onto the bed. They both laughed. He threaded her damp hair through his fingers. “Turnabout is fair play, right?”
A clever answer wouldn’t come. All that came out was, “Matt, I love you.”
He grinned. “The feelin’ is mutual, little darlin’,” he said with an exaggerated drawl. He kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, and the corners of her mouth. Then, he captured her lips and gave her such a tender kiss that it brought tears to her eyes. His mouth tasted of coffee. She pulled him closer.
His hand slid up her thigh, leaving a trail of flames; he approached within an inch of her quivering, moist center, then backed off and repositioned himself. Every gesture, every touch, every tingling sensation, was familiar to her—like coming home.
Memories engulfed her. Her head spun. Fighting sensory overload, she rose on her elbows to follow him, but he shook his head. She forced herself to lie back and wait for the new delights he had in mind.
Beyond anything Cinderella’s prince might have fulfilled, Matt took Molly’s foot in his warm hands and stroked the arch, the instep, then his hands slid up the back curve of her leg, passing the underside of her knee, then circled to the front of her thigh and inched upward again. She opened her legs to accept his touch.
