Becky’s face puckered, and she squirmed, pointing at the barn. Then she reached up and pulled Dell’s face close, kissing her on the check.
“’Kay,” she gurgled. “Me work.”
Dell laughed and hugged the little girl, wondering yet again how anyone could give up a child. Holding Becky close, Dell headed back to the house.
• • •
Light from the moon flooded the yard. Dell stood outside by the pool, staring up at the golden sphere, transfixed. She could understand where the ideas about moon madness came from. Walking out into the hot summer air and seeing a full moon could literally freeze her in place with amazement. And contentment, she thought, stretching. She shook her head slightly. Some of her acquaintances claimed to be unimpressed with the moon, the summer heat, even the scent of the honeysuckle and gardenias, which were almost overpowering at the moment.
She didn’t believe them. How could anyone not relish this sense of perfection? Shrugging, she slipped off her beach robe and padded over to the edge of the pool. She rarely swam, and since she had started picking up odd jobs with the forwarding companies, she hadn’t been in the water at all. The problem was that when she made time to dive in, she couldn’t drag herself out again. So she avoided the pool and saved the hours of time she’d lose if she gave in.
She didn’t dive in, just walked over to the shallow end and stepped in, testing the water experimentally. Not surprisingly, the pool was as warm as the night, and it rose around her, liquid and soothing. Sighing contentedly, she flipped over on her back and floated, moving her fingers occasionally just to steady her position on the unmoving surface. Any idea of exerting herself was gone. Floating mindlessly and timelessly under the clear, south Texas sky was just too appealing.
Far off, a coyote howled, and she thought once, briefly, of Jovi, but pushed him determinedly from her mind. After floating lazily for a blissful eternity, she reluctantly put her feet down, standing up and looking across the length of the pool. She had come here to swim, she reminded herself sternly. She could use the exercise, and maybe a little physical activity would make it easier to sleep when she went back in. If she went back in. She really couldn’t imagine leaving the pool. A good breaststroke would burn off a lot of calories and wear her out in a hurry. She sighed. Then she took a deep breath and dove instead, gliding effortlessly across the pool under water.
A long time ago, her father had teased her about being half dolphin, she remembered suddenly, because she had preferred those short, rolling surface dives to the rigor of the “real” swimming her mother practiced to maintain her own figure. Frowning at the memory, she dove again and again, almost with anger, until she was gasping for breath. She came up for air in the middle of the pool and stood motionless until the beauty of the night slowly reclaimed her consciousness and attention. When her eyes kept looking up to check the moon’s position again instead of squeezing shut against the pain of some new memory, she hoisted herself to the tiled edge of the pool to take a breather, idly circling her feet in the warm water.
“Sneaking a swim’s going to be awfully hard now,” a husky masculine voice drawled behind her, and she started so violently that she slipped off the edge and back into the pool.
“Sorry.” Jovi reached out a lean, muscled arm. “Shall I help you out?”
Dell felt her chest tighten, cutting off her ability to breathe normally. At South Padre, Jovi’s trunks had been passably decorous. The trunks he wore now seemed sprayed on with a half-empty can of spray paint. The low, low cut showed too much torso. And too much hair. Not to mention way too much of everything else. She made herself refocus her gaze on the extended hand, and when she thought she could meet his eyes without blushing, she looked up at him.
“What are you doing here? It must be … ” Her voice trailed off. The question was lame, and she herself had already decided that on nights like this, time was of no importance at all.
He smiled cheerfully. “It must be two in the morning. Early, not late. And, as I already explained, I’m sneaking into the pool. At least I was trying to.”
He shrugged his massive shoulders and crossed his arms when she still didn’t take his hand. “What can I say? You caught me.”
“Do you do this often?” She asked, and watched as he had to make his own effort to refocus on her face.
“No, not often,” he said, seriously. “Actually, this would be the first time. That I’ve ever seen you in a bikini like that.”
She grimaced. “Funny. I meant, do you sneak into the pool very often?”
“Oh, that. Yes.” He sat down on the edge of the pool and slid his legs into the water. “Almost every night, as a matter of fact.” He struck a bodybuilder’s pose, fists clenched and arms tautened to show off his muscled torso. “I have to maintain this perfection somehow.” Then he laughed. “God, I sound arrogant, don’t I? But I love to swim, and I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“Of course not. But every night?” She couldn’t mask her surprise. “I’ve never seen you.”
“How often are you here?”
“Never,” she admitted. “But now and then I do look out my window. Maybe not at two.” She cocked her head to see him from a better angle. “You don’t sleep nights, or what?”
“I sleep. When I have to.” He waved an expansive hand at the lush greenery and sparkling water around them. “But why squander time sleeping when you could enjoy scenery like this? And a night just made to perfection.”
She smiled. “Spoken with the soul of a poet.”
“All men in love are poets,” he announced grandly, then laughed at himself again. “Not that I’m in love, but that’s a good line. I’ll have to write it down before I forget it.” He kicked, spraying her with crystal rain. “So … do you want me to leave?”
Dell turned away for a moment, considering. Whether or not she wanted him to leave, it obviously would be far safer if he did. Or she did. He worked hard with the horses, even given that some of his chores confined him to the air-conditioned office. But she’d often gone down to the barn to see him cleaning stalls with Pete and Danny, or moving equipment around outside. He wasn’t a shirker, and it seemed unfair to keep him from enjoying what was apparently a ritual for him after a hard day. And the water was divine, so soothing and tantalizing, that she didn’t want to leave, either.
She ruthlessly silenced the tiny voice whispering to her that the man posed at pool’s edge, waiting for her answer, was both divine and tantalizing himself. Soothing, no. The man definitely was more upsetting than soothing. She managed a sedate shrug.
“Suit yourself,” she said loftily. “But stay out of my way.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed laconically, and slid into the water. She turned and dove away, swimming toward the deep end of the pool. He waited until she had almost reached the other end, then thrust himself away from the wall and raced across the pool, arms and feet churning the surface as if he were chasing an Olympic record. When she surfaced, he was already there, arms hooked nonchalantly over the pool’s tiled lip.
“Hi,” he said, and laughed when she just frowned and turned away. This time she used a lazy sidestroke, and he swam alongside, not talking, just smiling across at her. She was a little surprised the water didn’t bubble and boil, since the heat in the pool had climbed steadily, and he was swimming so close to her their legs brushed occasionally.
If she rolled, changing sides, she thought idly, she would roll right into his arms. The temptation to do so was strong, but she also knew it was stupid. She had the girls and Becky to think about, and in spite of his occasional, reluctant flirting, he seemed to be unwilling to initiate a physical relation himself, now, even if she didn’t know why. Provoking him would be inexcusable.
He reached the edge of the pool and reached out a hand lazily, pushing himself upright and watching her as she did the same. She, too
, leaned against the wall, feeling the heat of his body across the few inches of space between them, wishing he would give some indication of feeling it, of feeling her. Of wanting her.
She couldn’t imagine how he could stand there, so silent and motionless, when she felt shaky and breathless. Unable to deal with the treacherous fire igniting deep inside, she braced her arms on the pool and swung out.
Her abrupt departure apparently startled him; he glanced at her, then swung out after her, following her to the lounger where her towel was.
“You’re not leaving, are you?”
She reached for the towel and blotted the water from her face. “Yes. It’s late.”
He didn’t dispute the time, but cast a thoughtful glance at the sky above them, then looked at her.
“I didn’t mean to chase you away,” he apologized.
She tried an indignant snort, but it came out soft and unconvincing. “Don’t give yourself too much credit. I’ve been out here for a long time, and I’m ready to go. That’s all.”
“You weren’t thinking about leaving when I first got here,” he pointed out matter-of-factly. “You don’t allow yourself enough little luxuries like this.” He cast a glance at the loungers. “Stay,” he insisted. “We’ll talk.”
Dell sighed and ran her fingers through her wet hair. Then she shrugged. “Okay. I’ll dry out for a few minutes. After that, I’m calling it a night.”
He nodded. “Me, too,” he agreed, and sank into the lounger closest to him, stretching out with apparent indifference and waving at the other. “Make yourself comfortable.”
She shook her head at him but sat down carefully on the flowered cushions, too aware of him to lie down. To cover her uneasiness, she began toweling her hair dry, rubbing the dark strands of her hair in the fluffy towel over and over again.
Behind her, she heard Jovi breathe out a deep, heavy breath. “Quit torturing your poor hair,” he ordered. She heard the faint noise of the cushions on the lounger behind her as he stood and came over to drop to his knees behind her. His hands, strong and warm, pulled the towel from her unprotesting fingers and tossed it on the ground beside the lounger.
“Quit torturing me,” he whispered, and she jerked upright as she felt the prickle of his mustache on her bare back, followed by the soft warmth of his lips trailing a line of fire up toward her neck. He didn’t hold her, though, kept his hands planted on the lounger, although she could feel them on either side of her hips. She could get up and walk away, and she knew he wouldn’t stop her.
Instead, she drew in a deep, shuddering breath, then twisted her head around just as his lips brushed the side of her neck. Slowly, slowly his hand came up, brushing up her arm to catch and hold her chin. Gently, he touched his lips to hers.
She whispered his name and twisted, kissing him back, sliding her fingers over his shoulders and holding him close. With a muffled groan, he pressed her back against the cushions, reaching out to lift her legs, then stroking them with teasing fingers as she stretched out. His kisses grew deeper, more demanding, and his body pressed into hers, bare flesh heated and electric. She kneaded his shoulders, gasped his name.
The lounger tipped under them, and he muttered a curse and rolled Dell into his arms, easing her down on the smooth, hard tile. She barely felt the ungiving texture under her arms and hips — she was too aware he had drawn away from her. She tugged gently, and he obligingly leaned over her again, touching her mouth with his, then bending closer to kiss her throat, taste the salt with the tip of his tongue.
Then his head moved lower still, and he felt her body tauten with surprise and go still as he pressed his lips to the soft swell of her breasts, kissing each one softly, then nudging the brightly flowered fabric of her bra until it gave way. She gasped, arching toward him, her fingers knotting in his hair as he teased each hardened peak in turn, crying his name, pressing up into him, seeking contact with his hard, masculine body along her entire feminine length.
Shaking with need, Jovi tugged and teased her nipples, a hand sliding gently down her flat stomach, caressing, sliding beneath the band of her bikini. He heard her cries, soft and pleading, as his fingers found her. He dragged his mouth back up toward her mouth, intent on silencing her, and from a faint, far-off distance, he heard the tiny click.
Not the click of a gun, he thought foggily, his body still hard, still trembling as he fought to control his need for completion. It had been the small click of some kind of camera. He hadn’t seen a flash, but he wasn’t sure there hadn’t been. And the moonlight and yard lights would have made it easy to shoot pictures with any good, low-light camera even without a flash.
He shifted and moved away, propping himself to screen her from whomever had been watching from somewhere in the plants behind them. He heard a slight rustle and glanced over his shoulder to see the shrubs that surrounded the side gate move even though there was no wind. The opportunity was lost; he knew he would find no one now. But he knew that someone had been there.
“Jovi,” Dell murmured, her eyes refocusing, and her lips swollen and parted. “What?”
Reluctantly he leaned over, touching his lips to hers again, then pushing himself to his feet.
“Someone was here, on the patio,” he said, not wanting to frighten or embarrass her, but unable to lie. “Somebody was watching us. I heard a camera click.”
He saw the shock in her face, followed quickly by disbelief, then anger. Turning away, she refastened the bikini top and started to stand up. He held out his hand, and she didn’t take it, so he caught her wrist, pulling her up gently.
“No,” she said with a decided shake of her head, looking around the serene patio. “There’s no one here. There couldn’t have been.” She looked genuinely puzzled, but only slightly concerned. “How could there have been? Why would there have been?” She shook her head again, more slowly and more hesitantly in spite of her denial. “You’re imagining things, Jovi.”
He didn’t point out he’d been a cop. She knew from his resume, and given his real reason for being here, he didn’t want her to dwell on his past. But even though he had decided he didn’t want to spend his life in law enforcement, he’d been good. He still had the skills and the instinct. Someone had been watching. Anger flared through him, but he kept it carefully hidden. It had been inexcusable for him to forget why he was here, and he had endangered both his investigation and Dell by giving in to temptation.
Breathing deeply, he turned again, squinting into the shadows along the tall, wooden fence that enclosed them. The carefully tended plants were still again. Sighing, he shoved a hand through his hair. He wasn’t sure who would watch, or why anyone would want pictures. Maribel? He dismissed her as soon as he thought of her. She might stumble on them and stay to gather ammunition to hurl at Dell, but he couldn’t imagine either that she’d walk in on them a second time or that she’d be armed with a camera in the middle of the night. No one else on the ranch had reason or access. His frown deepened. So why was someone shooting pictures, and was Dell the target — or was he?
Reluctantly, he turned back to Dell, aware of her disbelief, of her withdrawal. Again. He fought the urge to sigh loudly and heavily. Their relationship tottered precariously on a high wire, and each time they took a step forward, the wire threatened to snap, sending them hurtling to destruction. He’d never wanted a woman as much as he wanted Dell. He knew she was physically attracted to him. How strong the attraction might be, he didn’t know. She was so damn distant sometimes, so remote. But the worst thing he could do was take her to bed. She’d regret it in the end because of the girls. And because he’d lied to her from the get go.
And he’d regret it too, if it were just a matter of a few hours or nights, if it were just sex. Because he wanted so much more from her. He straightened imperceptibly, tensing, as that thought slammed home. He wanted more. He didn’t know whether it was t
he emptiness and lack of connection in his own life, or the untouchable distance she projected that made him want to reach out and draw her close. Whatever it was, though, had worked its way deep inside, and he doubted he’d ever look at her and not want her.
She was still watching him, her expression somber and a little hurt. Her breathing had returned to normal, and she had draped herself in a towel.
“There was someone here,” he told her again, knowing she still didn’t quite believe him. He forced a thin smile. “You can’t think I just wanted to stop. I invent headaches, for that, not cameras.”
He could see her try to fight back a faint smile. “Somehow I don’t believe that,” she retorted, then shook her head. Her hair, just beginning to dry, slapped wetly against her towel-covered shoulders. “You have to admit it doesn’t make sense, though. Why would anyone bother? Why would they care?”
The shrug was one of disavowal this time. “Who knows? Perversion? Unrequited love? But it happened.”
Dell snorted. “If it’s unrequited love, don’t look at me, buster. There isn’t anyone that interested, trust me.”
He slanted an eyebrow. “And what? Am I beating women off with a wet towel or something?”
Dell thought of Karla Gonzalez and frowned. If the man didn’t have women fighting over him somewhere, she’d be surprised. But she bit back the thought and tried to focus on his worries instead.
Her face tightened as she thought of something. “You don’t suppose Maribel — ”
“No.” He shook his head and ran his hand over his face again with irritation before swatting at his bare arm. “I thought of her,” he admitted. “But she couldn’t just happen onto us twice. She’d have to be a pro to luck onto us twice, and she’s not.” He shrugged, and then swatted at his shoulder. “Damn mosquitoes.”
Dell cast a speculative glance at the house. All the windows upstairs were dark, except she could make out the faintest glow of light coming from what she knew was Becky’s room. The angel nightlight — she’d turned it on herself. Thinking of Becky made her realize she’d been within seconds of making love to Jovi in the middle of the patio, with bright lights shining all around them. And without protection of any sort. She flushed, appalled at the thought, and her lips thinned as she silently cursed her stupidity.
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