While he spoke, her nerves slid away. She had nothing to be afraid about. Not with Zack. A soft smile captured her mouth at the sincerity in his eyes. He probably would march right to the stream out back if she commanded him.
"You are a very sweet man, Zack Slater," she murmured.
He snorted. "You know me better than that. I just want to do everything right this time."
"So far you're doing a pretty dam good job." She smiled again, sultry this time, and stepped forward to press a kiss to his strong jaw where a hint of late-afternoon shadow rasped against her mouth. She liked it so much she kissed him again. And once more.
He stood motionless while she tasted his skin and meandered her way to his mouth. He wanted slow and easy. She could give him slow and easy. She brushed her lips across his, then back again with leisurely attention to every centimeter of his mouth.
His eyes fluttered closed and he leaned into her. Under her hands, his heart pounded hard and fast in erotic contrast to the unhurried pace of their kiss.
He seemed content to let her take the lead in the kiss, and she reveled in the heady power of his response. As she explored his mouth, she could feel the hard jut of his arousal at her hip, feel his breathing accelerate, grow labored.
When she gripped a handful of shirt and licked at the corner of his mouth, he groaned and parted his lips slightly, just enough for her to slip her tongue inside. But still he didn't move.
She knew the exact moment when his thin hold on control snapped apart. One moment he was motionless under her sensual onslaught. The next, he shuddered and his arms whipped up, twisting in her hair as he gripped her head and ravaged her mouth.
With a sigh of surrender she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body to him.
She couldn't wait another hour, another moment, another second. She wanted him now, right here.
The dying sun sent long, stretched-out shafts of light through a break in the curtains to dapple the furniture and wood floor as she grabbed his hand and pulled him into her small bedroom.
He dug his boot heels into the floor just inside the doorway, his eyes intent and searching on her face. "Are you sure, Cass? There's no going back after this."
She smiled. "I couldn't be more sure than I am right this moment. Kiss me, Slater."
His mouth quirked a little at the order but he promptly obeyed, his hands busy untucking her shirt and exploring the sensitive skin above her hips. She shivered as those hard, rough hands moved closer to her breasts, to her nipples that ached and burned for his touch.
The next few moments were a flurry of buttons and snaps and zippers yanking free.
Finally no barriers remained between them. All her nerves came fluttering back like a flock of magpies to chatter noisily at her.
No man had ever seen her naked except him, and that had been a decade ago. She was suddenly painfully aware of all her imperfections, every single extra calorie she had ever indulged in over the years.
He didn't appear to notice. At least not judging by the stunned expression on his face.
"I thought I remembered everything about you in exquisite detail," he murmured. "Every curve, every hollow. I can't believe I forgot the sheer impact of the whole package."
"Oh, stop." Hot color saturated all those curves and hollows as he gazed at her with stark longing in his eyes.
He grinned. "Get used to it, sweetheart. I'm just getting warmed up."
She decided the only way out of this was distraction. "That's too bad," she murmured. "Because I'm already very, very warm. And getting warmer by the second."
"Let's see." He stepped forward and kissed her, skimming one sneaky hand from her shoulders down her back to the curve of one rear cheek, pulling her against him. She gasped as fluttery little nerve impulses rocketed through her everywhere her skin brushed his.
"Mmm. You're right. Very warm," he murmured against her mouth.
They stood that way for a long time, wrapped together and rediscovering each other while the room darkened around them.
At last he lowered her to the bed. His hands were strong and hard and clever. He knew exactly how and where to touch her—where to linger, where to tease with fleeting caresses.
She closed her eyes, lost to the swirl of sensation and the steadily building heat he stoked so adroitly. When she opened them, she found him watching her, his eyes heavy with passion. Their gazes locked and stayed that way while his hands caressed her intimately. A restless, aching need gripped her and she curved into his fingers, nearly crying out from the tangle of emotions that bound them so tightly.
Still watching her, he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was fierce and possessive and demanding—and she found it every bit as arousing as his hands on her flesh.
"Please," she begged, unable to stand the slow, exquisite yearning another instant. His thumb stroked a particularly sensitive spot just then, hidden in folds of flesh, and she sobbed his name as she climaxed in a wild tumble of color and light and sensation.
He entered her while her body still seethed and shivered. She gasped as tight, unused muscles had to stretch to accommodate his size.
Muscles corded in his neck as he eased deeper. She wasn't sure if his growled words were an oath or a prayer. "You're so tight."
"I'm sorry. I just haven't done this in a...in a long time."
He froze, his hot gaze piercing the soft, satiated fog enveloping her. "How long?"
She flushed and focused on the hard blade of his collarbone. "Oh, ten years. Give or take a month or so."
He blinked but not before she saw the stunned disbelief in his eyes. "You haven't been with anyone at all?"
Did they have to talk about this right now, when she could hardly find her breath? When he was invading every inch of her soul? Apparently so. She knew that stubborn look in his eyes and knew he wouldn't let it drop.
"I've been a little busy raising my niece," she retorted. "When was I supposed to fit in any torrid sexual encounters? In between changing her diapers or before I picked her up from school? I'm sorry. It just wasn't a priority."
The stunned look in his eyes began to give way to something else. Something that looked like an awed kind of wonder. "It shouldn't matter to me. It doesn't. I would have understood, Cass, if you had been involved with someone else. You had every right."
"Yes, I did. I just don't view making love with someone lightly. It was...never the right situation with anyone else."
"And this is right, isn't it? Between us?"
She nodded, helpless to do anything else.
"I love you, Cassidy Jane."
The gruff words stole what little breath remained in her lungs. If she'd had any left, it wouldn't have lasted long as he surged deeply inside her, his body taut and hard.
She gasped and rose to meet him, clinging to him as the need spiraled inside her again with each deep, steady movement
"I love you," he repeated, and the words sent her soaring over the edge once more. An instant later he followed her with a low, exultant moan.
While she floated, feather-light, back to earth, he switched their positions so she was sprawled over him, listening to his ragged breathing while his hands stroked her skin.
A few minutes later, just as she thought she might be able to think straight again, she heard a tremendous boom and saw a sparkle of red and gold through that slim spear of open curtain.
She gasped. "Oh no! We're missing the fireworks!"
His hand curved over her hipbone. "I wouldn't exactly say that."
"But your new truck. You wasted all that money for nothing!"
Hard muscles rippled against her as he shrugged. "We'll use it next year. Make it our own annual tradition."
Would they have a "next year" together? She wanted fiercely to believe it. But even here in the sanctuary of his arms, she couldn't shake the niggling voice warning her that nothing lasts forever.
She had learned that lesson all too well.
In the meantime
she needed to do all she could to protect whatever tiny remnants of her heart he hadn't already snatched for his own.
* * *
It worked.
He couldn't believe she was here, in his arms. That his weeks of planning, of hoping, had paid off.
Zack watched her sleep, fascinated by the steady rise and fall of her chest under the sheet, the fluttering of her eyelids, the little half smile that played around her mouth.
She was here. And she was his.
He had to be the luckiest son of a gun who ever lived. When he arrived at Salt River three weeks ago, he figured nothing short of a miracle could have convinced her to give him another chance.
Heaven knew, he didn't deserve one.
Yet here she was, warm and soft and cuddly as she slept curled against him.
Somehow she had turned to that steely core of courage inside her and taken a huge leap of faith into his arms. He could only guess what it must have cost her. If she had left him a decade ago like a thief in the night—without any kind of explanation—he wasn't sure he would be so willing to let her back into his life. Especially if he believed all that time that she left with another man.
She was a far better person than he was. He had always known that. Loving and generous and sweet.
For a man who had lived most of his life in a hard, unforgiving world, was it any wonder Cassidy Harte had been irresistible?
She was still irresistible, even though the years had changed her. Now that optimistic, artless girl had become a woman. A little less optimistic, maybe. A little more wary, but still as loving and generous as she had been when he lost his heart to her.
He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Not to wake her, simply because he still couldn't believe she was here.
She stirred, then her eyes fluttered open. A dazed kind of smile tilted that luscious mouth a little as their gazes met, then color flared across her cheekbones.
"What time is it?" She tried to peer around him to her alarm clock.
"Early. About four-thirty."
She groaned and buried her head under the pillow. "I have to get up in an hour to make breakfast."
"Or, since you're already awake, we could find something more interesting to do for an hour."
She pulled the pillow away and squinted at him. "You're inhuman. I figured four—or was it five?—times would be enough for you."
He couldn't stop the pure, sinful smile stealing over his mouth. "No. I'm very, very human. And I don't think I will ever get enough of you."
The disgruntled look in her eyes began to fade as he reached for her. It didn't take him long to make it disappear entirely, replaced by soft, dreamy desire.
Afterward, he held her tight, her head tucked under his chin.
"Marry me, Cassie."
The words slipped out of him like horses over downed barbed wire. Why had he blurted it out like that? So much for waiting, taking the time and effort to repair the damage he had done by leaving her.
He could tell the words shocked her. She went deep-water still and slid away from him. "Wha-what?"
He couldn't go back now—it was too late for that—so he plodded gamely forward. "I love you. I never stopped loving you. I fell for you all those years ago. For ten years the memory of that time has stalked me. Haunted me. I love you. I want to marry you."
She jumped out of bed as if the sheets were ablaze and scrambled for a silky robe tossed over a chair.
Panic skittered around her, through her. "Don't do this to me, Zack. This is not fair. You can't just blow back into town and expect everything to be the same."
"I don't. I hope we can build something even better than what we had before." He sat up, the sheets bunched at his hips and that wide, hard chest bare, looking so gorgeous her mouth watered. She jerked her gaze away, to something safe like the pale-pink dawn breaking outside her bedroom window.
How could he throw this at her? It was far too much, far too soon. She was still a little light-headed about having taken this giant step and spent the night in his arms.
"Slow and easy. Wasn't that what you said?"
"Yeah. That's what I said."
"This is not slow and easy! This is jumping straight from hello to picking out china patterns together. I...I need more time, Zack. I'm sorry. I'm just not ready yet."
A cold, hard knot of terror lodged in her throat at the very idea of committing to a future with him. She was being a yellow-bellied coward and she hated herself for it.
But the cruel lessons of the past were just too ingrained in her psyche.
She had a sudden memory of a pretty little blue heeler her brother Matt bought at a livestock auction a few years ago. The dog's previous owner must have been one mean son of a gun because she quailed, her belly slunk low to the ground and her tail between her legs, whenever Matt tried to work with her.
It had taken months of hard work and patience before her brother could gain the dog's trust.
She knew exactly how that poor bitch felt right now. So afraid to let down her guard. To believe this was any more than just another vicious trick—an outstretched hand that concealed a harsh stick.
"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I'm not ready."
"You still love me, though. Admit it."
She shoved her hands in the pockets of her robe to conceal their trembling. "Sometimes love is not enough. Ten years ago I might have thought it was. But I know better now."
He was silent, his expression resigned, regretful. "You think I'm going to leave you again, don't you?"
She wanted to deny his words but she couldn't. Until this moment she hadn't realized just how afraid she was that he would do exactly that.
Her silence spoke far more loudly than words. He nodded. "Okay. I won't pressure you, Cassie. I'll wait. We have the rest of our lives."
She wanted so fiercely to believe him.
But still she cowered.
* * *
Chapter 10
« ^ »
The nervous jitters fluttering through her before the Independence Day parade nearly a week earlier seemed like tiny rippling waves in a spring breeze compared to this tidal wave of terror.
Cassie shifted in the leather passenger seat of Zack's new truck, adjusted her seat belt, tried to find a comfortable spot for her trembling hands.
Everything's going to be fine, she assured herself, trying hard not to give in to the fierce urge to gnaw her lip to shreds.
"You okay?" Zack asked, with such calm serenity she wanted to punch him. Hard.
Just dandy. She blew out a breath. "No. No, I'm not okay."
He sent her a reassuring smile. "Relax. Everything will be fine. We'll all try to get along."
"Right. Relax. You spent maybe six months with my brothers and that was ten years ago. I've lived with them my entire life. I know exactly what they're like. Everything is not going to be fine."
They were on their way to Sunday dinner at the Diamond Harte, and she wouldn't have been more terrified if she were standing barefoot in a nest full of rattlers.
The whole thing had been her idea, she was chagrined to admit. She wasn't sure what kind of evil demon had planted this seed in her head, but she had blurted out the invitation a few days before when she had been lying in his arms, sated and relaxed.
They had both been spending a lot of time in that condition in the last week. Not that she had any regrets. It had been incredible, far better than her memories of before. They laughed together, they talked together, they did everything but broach the subject of the future.
Friday was supposed to have been her last day at the Lost Creek under the terms of their agreement, but neither of them had given it much thought, too wrapped up in rediscovering each other.
"Do you want to forget it?" Zack asked her now. "I could just drop you off and make myself scarce for a couple hours if you want me to."
She blew out a breath. Matt and Jesse both knew she was bringing Zack to dinner. She had called them the day before to warn
them. It wouldn't have been fair to just spring it on them out of the blue.
They knew she was seeing him again, and neither was happy about it. She winced remembering their identical, very vocal reactions to the news when she had called them.
But she knew if she and Zack had any future at all—that future she didn't want to think about—they had to confront the past first.
"No," she answered firmly. "We're going to have to do this eventually. We can't keep hiding out from them like we're holed up in Robber's Roost waiting for the posse to catch up to us. One of these days my brothers are going to see that I'm all grown up and can live my own life. Make my own decisions."
"How bad can it he?" He grinned. "I'll let them each punch me around a few times—I figure I deserve at least that much for breaking their baby sister's heart—then we'll all have a beer and move on."
She slugged his shoulder, more for the cocky grin than his words. "Don't even joke about it. That's exactly what I'm afraid of. I'm fairly fond of that pretty face of yours. I'd hate to see my obstinate brothers mess it up."
He grabbed her hand. "Don't worry about your brothers, I can hold my own. Physically or otherwise." He kissed the fingers he held. "Everything is going to be fine, Cass. Just watch."
If she closed her eyes, she could almost believe him.
* * *
The Diamond Harte was exactly as he remembered it—big and sprawling and as brightly polished as a prize rodeo buckle.
Of all the ranches he'd seen in the years his father had dragged him around like a worn-out saddle, the Harte ranch stood out in his memory as one of the cleanest, most efficient operations he'd ever had the pleasure of working.
They pulled up in front of the ranch house, a massive stone and log structure that had always intimidated him a little. Immediately two little dynamos—a redhead and a tiny brunette with long dark hair—hopped down from a swing on the front porch and rushed to their vehicle.
Before he could play the gentleman and open the passenger door for Cassie, they did it for him, all but climbing onto her lap.
"Aunt Cassie! It's been forever since we've seen you!" the darker one exclaimed. He looked closer at her and immediately saw Melanie Harte's silvery-gray eyes looking back at him. This one must be Lucy.
CASSIDY HARTE AND THE COMEBACK KID Page 15
