by Nancy Bush
“You don’t have to try so hard not to look,” he said.
“What would I want to look for?” She shrugged. “I just wanted to give you some privacy.”
His shout of laughter said he knew better. “Come here,” he coaxed, motioning to where he stood.
Lexie slid him a wary glance. “What for?”
“Because I asked you to.”
Every nerve Lexie possessed suddenly went on alert. Tremaine had never sought out her friendship before, why should he start now? “I like it right here,” she said, feeling querulous and foolish, but somehow certain she didn’t want to come any nearer.
He lifted his shoulders dismissively. “Suit yourself.” He sat down against the bole of a cedar, drawing one leg up and draping his arm across it. His shirt was open at the throat and wet from his damp body. Unwillingly, Lexie was aware of his unconscious, yet blatant virility. Her gaze was drawn to the tight stretch of his tan breeches and she glanced away quickly, femininely aware of her own sorry state of dress.
Tremaine, however, was quite content to look at her as she was. Her hair was tangled into lovely golden layers, some lighter, some darker. It lay against the shoulders of her white eyelet shirtwaist, fanning out across the sun-dried flesh on her arms and neck. Sensing his stare, she gave him a quick, shy smile and she was reminded achingly of their tenuous childhood friendship. “You look beautiful, Sundown,” he said before he thought.
Shocked, she gaped at him, then burst into delighted laughter. “Good heavens, Tremaine. I’d forgotten that nickname. Whatever made you think of it?”
“I don’t know. The sun’s setting. It just reminded me that we didn’t always hate each other.”
Lexie smiled. “We don’t hate each other.” There had been moments when she and Tremaine had been friends, she remembered with a rush of pleasure, liking this side of him that she so rarely saw. “So what brought you home?” she asked, walking closer to flop down on the grass beside him. “We haven’t seen you all summer.”
“Didn’t Eliza tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“I’m picking up your trunk and taking it to Miss Everly’s School. Pa asked me to come and get it.”
“Oh.” Disappointment crashed down on her. She’d thought Tremaine might have come just to see her — a foolish dream she hadn’t realized she harbored until he’d just shattered the illusion. And why should it matter anyway? she asked herself angrily. Tightening her jaw, she said, “It’s only a few weeks away now. I can’t believe I’m actually going.”
“Maybe it won’t be so bad.”
“It’ll be worse than bad. It’ll be intolerable.” She lay on her stomach, resting her chin in her hands. “I want to live on a farm and be a horse doctor.”
“And marry Jace Garrett?”
Lexie hesitated. “Yes.”
This brought silence from Tremaine so she gave him a searching look. His face was implacable and shuttered. Impatient, Lexie asked, “Well, aren’t you going to say anything? Give me some new advice? Try to make me feel better?”
“It’s only one year, Lexie.”
“But it’s not what I want!”
“I know what you want,” Tremaine answered a trifle testily. “You just can’t have everything you want all the time. Life isn’t like that.”
“Oh, really.” She almost smiled. “When did you become such an expert?”
His blue eyes stared impassively into hers. “When I realized how much Jace Garrett is going to disappoint you.”
She should have been infuriated. Tremaine’s remarks about Jace always infuriated her. But this time all she could muster was a mild annoyance. Still, she glared at him.
“Lexie,” Tremaine said softly, reaching out to brush a finger across her cheek. “I don’t want to talk about Jace right now. Or Miss Everly’s School.”
She leaned back, away from his touch. “What — do you want to talk about?”
He dropped his hand, drawing a deep breath. “I don’t know. Nothing, I suppose.” He watched the creeping lavender shadows grow across the ground, sighed, and said, “We’d better get back. Pa’ll be wondering what my buggy is doing in the lane.”
“Wait.” Lexie laid a hand on his arm, halting him in the act of rising. He peered at her through the gathering twilight. “I don’t want to go back just yet. I’d like to talk some more.”
She felt the tension slowly leave the muscles of his arm. He inclined his head in agreement and sat back down, so close to her that her knee almost touched his taut thigh. Lexie carefully withdrew her fingers from his arm.
“I don’t remember ever being your confidante,” Tremaine remarked. “What happened to Harrison?”
She snorted in true unladylike fashion. “Benedict Arnold,” she muttered and Tremaine’s mouth twitched with humor. “I haven’t forgiven him yet.”
“It’s not his fault he wants to be a horse doctor.”
“Don’t try logic on me, Tremaine. It won’t work.”
“When has it ever?”
She shot him a look but his smile was disarming, and it did treacherous things to her heart. He was very likable when he was in an approachable mood, she realized. Too likable. Ignoring his moratorium on bringing up Jace, she said, “Tremaine, I need some advice.”
“You want my advice?” He arched a disbelieving brow. “On what?”
“Jace.” She felt color creep up her neck as she considered what she was about to say. But it was as good a way as any to stop the foolish feelings rushing through her bloodstream — and it also addressed an issue that had been bothering her for months. “I have some questions about, well… about sex.”
“Sex?” His head jerked up in surprise.
“Don’t make this hard, Tremaine. I don’t have anyone to talk to.” She peered up at him, trying to discern his mood. He looked more taken aback than appalled. “I just don’t know that much about it.”
“Well, Lexie, that’s all to your benefit.”
“You don’t understand.” She bit her lip indecisively, wondering how far to take this conversation. Especially considering how Tremaine felt about Jace. Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, she thought, plunging in. “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do now that — Jace and I are almost engaged.”
Tremaine made a choked sound. “You don’t do anything.”
“But I get the feeling I’m doing something wrong.” She turned pleading emerald eyes on him. “It’s just not happening the way I think it should.”
“I’m afraid to even ask what that means.”
Lexie regarded him soberly, sure now that she’d embarked on a foolish quest. He wouldn’t understand. Whatever had possessed her to think he would?
“Have you seen Garrett today?” he asked carefully.
“No. He’s been busy in Rock Springs.” At Tremaine’s grim snort of disapproval, she grew hostile. “I can see there’s no talking to you where Jace is concerned!”
“Lexie,” he said with unexpected tenderness. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I won’t be. But…”
“But?” Tremaine coaxed, albeit unwillingly.
“I just don’t think he wants me enough,” she burst out. “He doesn’t want to — kiss me enough.”
There. She’d said it. Let him make of it what he would. Swallowing, she waited for the recriminations she expected to receive.
Tremaine was utterly silent. He gazed pensively across the night-shrouded pastureland toward the mountains. Gaining courage, Lexie added softly, “When he kisses me, I don’t know what to do. I want to kiss him back but I’m afraid to. I’m afraid he’ll think I’m too forward. And then when I don’t, I get the feeling I’ve disappointed him somehow.”
Tremaine’s jaw worked. “I doubt that you disappoint him, Lexie.”
“Oh, but I do. He pulls back. I can feel it.”
“Well, that’s probably good. You’re not married yet. You don’t need to rush things.”
&
nbsp; “But that’s not the way you are, is it?” Lexie asked, climbing onto her knees and dusting off her clothes.
Tremaine made a sound of disbelief. “I don’t think I’m the right person to talk to—”
“Please, Tremaine. I know this sounds so ridiculous, but I need to talk to someone. Don’t you see?”
“Your mother is probably—”
“No.” She cut him off firmly. “She’s not. I can’t talk to her about anything.”
Tremaine stared into Lexie’s smooth, innocent face and wondered how in the hell he got himself into these messes. He could scarcely bear to be around Lexie. In fact, he’d spent the summer away from her to put things in perspective. But seeing her again made reason fly off on wings of heated passion. Though his mind argued with him even now, he could still see her lying naked on the granite outcropping. A liquid wanting uncoiled inside him.
She’d picked a helluva time to hope he might change his mind about Jace Garrett.
Misunderstanding his lightning change of expression, Lexie thought his anger was directed at her. “Tremaine?” she asked uneasily.
“What?”
Something inside Lexie seemed to be forcing her on. She couldn’t help herself. “What do you feel when you kiss a woman?” she asked. “Don’t you want to keep on kissing her?”
“Oh, Lexie, stop it.” He jumped breathlessly to his feet and she scrambled up beside him.
“Well, don’t you?” she demanded, unwilling to give up.
“Yes, if it’s the right woman.”
“And if it isn’t it?”
“Sometimes even then,” he admitted with the bark of humorless laughter.
“Then why doesn’t Jace want to kiss me?”
“Guilty conscience?” Tremaine posed, unable to prevent himself.
Lexie frowned. “What do you mean?”
Tremaine sighed, regarding her through narrowed eyes. It was becoming difficult to maintain a poker face. Half of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity of Lexie asking him for advice on sex; the other half wanted to sweep her in his arms and show her what it was all about.
“What would make you want a woman?” Lexie asked suddenly.
“Lexie—”
She gingerly touched a hand to his arm. “Please, Tremaine. Tell me. I need to know. What would make you want a woman?”
He looked down at her fingers lying loosely on his hot flesh. “She would have to be — ah — someone I found attractive,” he answered with difficulty.
“Beautiful, you mean?”
“Attractive in some way.”
She glanced down thoughtfully, her lashes sweeping her cheek, then met his gaze again. Her eyes were full of an unfathomable need that made Tremaine’s chest constrict. “Then she wouldn’t have to be beautiful, as long as you liked the person she was inside.”
“That’s right.”
Darkness seemed to close around them. The top of Lexie’s head looked unnaturally dark, her skin glowed softly. Desire surged through Tremaine like an unwelcome curse. His pulse began to pound in that deep, age-old rhythm. He wondered how in God’s name she couldn’t sense what she was doing to him.
But she did sense it, a little. Instinctively. She turned her face up to his, her lips within inches of his. “Do you have a woman in your life right now?”
“No one special.” Almost against his will, his hand moved upward, cupping her chin. Her skin was marvelously smooth and his thumb moved over her flesh, starvingly, demandingly.
“Jenny McBride?”
Tremaine swept in a breath. “Who have you been talking to?”
“I’m not completely ignorant, Tremaine.”
“Then you’ll know Jenny and I are just friends.”
“And there’s no other woman in Portland?”
Tremaine could have listed half a dozen females whom he saw on an irregular basis. But there was no special woman. “No.”
Lexie regarded him with wide, innocent eyes. Only when his thumb slid down her throat to probe at the hollow of her neck, did she ask unsteadily, “Tremaine?”
“What?” Slowly, he bent his head.
“What are you doing?” she asked, drawing back.
“What does it feel like?” he whispered.
Surprised, Lexie made a sound of disbelief. “You’re not going to…”
“Kiss you?” His mouth twisted as she jerked her startled gaze to his. “I believe I am.”
Lexie reared back as far as her body would allow but his fingers plunged into the wild tangle of her blond mane, holding her captive. He pulled her inexorably forward, his dark head descending toward her trembling lips.
She tried to squirm from his grasp. She’d asked for this; she knew it. But he was terrifying her! She opened her mouth to scream just as his lips covered hers, muffling her cry. Her hands fought to push him away, but he held her tight, his mouth claiming hers in a hard, surrendering kiss.
Immobilized, Lexie was momentarily stunned to acquiescence. In that second her senses came alive, awakened by the sweet demanding pressure of his lips pressed to hers. Tremaine seized the opportunity to gather her closer, his mouth moving over hers with inflaming expertise, stroking, touching, finding new ways to fit against her.
There was a roaring in her ears. Her heart pounded like a wild thing. She clung to his arms, feeling the universe tip and sway. Tremaine seemed to expect this sensation because he held on tightly, dragging his hand up and down her spine, fitting his thighs close to hers.
It was as if the floodgates had open. She felt a mad desire that had nothing to do with sanity. The nameless yearnings and frustrations she’d felt all summer were culminated here. Now. With Tremaine.
Tremaine!
Realization washed over her in a frigid, dousing wave, just as she recognized the probing hardness between his legs for what it was. She dragged her mouth from his. “Tremaine,” she gasped, frightened, pushing her hand against the immovable wall of his chest. His heartbeat was strong, fast, and terrifying.
He drew a breath, his mouth twisting. “Does that answer your question?”
“Yes!”
He released her so slowly that it was an agony she wasn’t sure how to handle. She stumbled on her feet, breathing hard.
“If Jace is holding back,” he said with grim humor, “there’s a reason. And it has nothing to do with you. Believe me.”
Lexie covered her swollen mouth with shaking fingers. She’d been kissed by an expert, she realized. And, God help her, she’d liked it! “Tremaine…”
He was already stalking toward Fortune, but now he stopped mid-stride and cocked his head in her direction, his expression unfathomable.
“Why did you kiss me like — like that?” she blurted out.
“Because,” he answered with stark honesty, “I wanted to.” With that he swung onto Fortune’s back, twisted the magnificent stallion around, and waited patiently while Lexie scrambled onto Tantrum.
A thousand questions raced through her mind as she quietly followed Tremaine back to the house. Several times her mouth formed a query, then her gaze would fasten on his rigid back and the words would wither and die before they were uttered. Tremaine had retreated behind his shell of harsh indifference again, and he was no longer her amiable friend.
Amiable friend? Hah! She knew better.
At the stables she watched as he rubbed down Fortune and for the first time in memory, she neglected her own mount. “Tremaine…” she whispered.
“What?” he bit out ominously, his shoulder muscles working fast and hard as he groomed Fortune’s legs.
Licking her lips, Lexie asked, “Were you just teaching me a lesson? For being so naïve?”
“Believe what you want, Lexie,” he said on a short laugh. “Maybe we should just forget what happened at the hot springs.”
Lexie sighed in relief, yet the emerging woman in her already knew it was futile. “Can we really do that?” she asked softly, beseechingly.
Tremaine stopped his furiou
s horse grooming and rocked back on his heels, sending Lexie a strange half-smile. “No, Sundown, I don’t think we can. But don’t worry. I’m leaving tomorrow and you’re heading to school soon. Pretty soon you won’t even think about it.”
Lexie wandered back to Tantrum and began to rotely brush his coat… Won’t even think about it… Her brow furrowed with anxiety. An uneasy restlessness stirred in her breast. She wanted to believe him but a deep part of her soul wouldn’t listen. That part burned bright and hot, vividly remembering the touch of his lips, the aching wonder of being in his arms.
How, how can I ever truly forget? she asked herself as Tremaine, without a glance back, strode from the stables.
She had a feeling she’d just made a crucial mistake.
¤ ¤ ¤
Tremaine swiped at the road dust gathered on his face as he tied Fortune to the rail in front of Jenny McBride’s rooming house. He hadn’t seen Jenny since last spring and he felt he owed her a visit. She was, after all, a friend. And right now he was badly in need of one.
He glanced to where Lexie’s trunk was tied to the back of the buggy. It too was covered with dust. Tremaine grimaced as he recalled his restless night and vowed to himself that he would forget Lexie if it took three solid weeks in the comfort of another woman.
As soon as he stepped across the threshold, he smelled Jenny’s ubiquitous jasmine scent. There was no one about, however; the downstairs had a quiet, empty feeling.
Upstairs was another story. He could hear the muffled noises of what sounded like two voices raised in anger. With the memory of Jace Garrett fresh in his mind from his last visit, Tremaine strode to the upper landing. But it was women’s voices he heard, he realized, and he was about to head back down when Jenny burst from one of the rooms, murder in her eyes.
“Tremaine!” she cried, stopping short.
“Well, hullo, Jenny, I was just—”
His words died in his throat when Betsy Talbot stepped into the hallway, swelled up like an overripe watermelon. Seeing him, she flushed but she didn’t hide her condition. Instead, she straightened her shoulders while Tremaine felt shock rip through him.
