Wandering Heart

by Hestand, Rita

  "He's not in his bed, no." If looks could kill his would have.

  She wasn't satisfied with that answer.

  "Look." He rubbed his eyes and held the door open for her to come in and waited until she did, then slammed the door behind her. He walked like a tiger ready to prance on his prey. And she had come into his den willingly. The closed door brought immediate intimacy to the room. A nightlight dimly bathed the bedroom in a golden glow.

  Any other time it might look rather cozy, rather inviting. She was very disturbed and she couldn't forget it. She had to ignore that beautiful bare chest she itched to run her hands over.

  It was obvious he had gotten out of bed to put his jeans on. She had waked him from a sleep, obviously a restless sleep by the look of the sheets.

  "For your information, we had a rather tedious evening, me and Josh." He waited until that information seemed to sink in before continuing. He shouldn't have closed the door because now she wasn't going to escape. "Tim was over here nearly half the night, helping us with a couple of sick piglets. Josh was frantic. But he was also patient and gentle. You should have seen him. You'd have been proud. Anyway," he cast her another frown, "when Josh asked if he could spend the night with Tim, I told him yes. Tim's mom practically begged me to let him come, so I agreed, since I didn't know where to locate you. I took the liberty of making the decision. Now, are there any more questions?"

  "Are the piglets okay?" she heard herself ask.

  "Sure," he mumbled. "The piglets are fine, now."

  He had backed her into a wall, and was mere inches from her. His fists were clenched. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes as they bore into her. "To tell the truth, I wasn't sure you would be home tonight."

  Angela swallowed hard. She deserved that and more. But it had been a miserable night, a miserable day, in fact. And by the look on Cooper's face, it wasn't getting any better

  Hot tears stung the back of her eyes, but she held them in check. She had made a fool of herself most of the day and she just couldn't bear another mistake. Perhaps she had been hasty, but she was a mother, and mothers sometimes were!

  When she said nothing, his arms shot out on each side of her, holding her prisoner against the wall. And suddenly, everything began to change. Everything. She realized she had barged into his room uninvited. She realized she was alone with Cooper, and that Josh was no longer the real issue.

  Electricity charged the air around them, making it crackle between them. His gaze encompassed her, resting on the soft line of her lips more than once. She knew he wanted to kiss her. She wished he would, but he didn't.

  The rain played a steady beating sound against the window. If it had been a horn, it would have played a slow New Orleans jazz song. The rain added to the steam inside the room, steam created by the two of them.

  She could have escaped had she wanted to but she felt frozen to the spot. No, that wasn't true either. She felt hot, and the pit of her stomach seemed to growl at her. A growl she didn't recognize at first. She shouldn't feel this way every time she came too close to Cooper Johnson, but she couldn't help it. And tonight she knew the reason for all those frustrating feelings aimed at Cooper.

  "I'm sorry," she managed after a long mind-boggling moment. His eyes boiled into hers. "I should have known you would take care of Josh. I'm sorry."

  He seemed to accept her apology as he moved away from her, turning his back to her. But the tension in the room multiplied with each silent second. The silence was unbearable. She knew she should leave.

  When she didn't, he called over his shoulder, "I guess asking you to trust me was a little much."

  Angela felt herself moving toward that stonewall of a back he presented. Her hands itched to touch the bronze of his skin. Was it as smooth as it looked? A hand extended to find out, but it didn't quite reach its mark. She wasn't that brave or brazen.

  "You're wrong," she answered quietly moments later.

  He half turned to look at her, the disbelief written on his face.

  "I do trust you. Surely you can see that. I mean I left Josh with you, didn't I? Left him? I practically begged you to watch him for me. You, a man! I've never asked anyone else to do that. Do you honestly think I would leave Josh with anyone I didn't trust? He likes you. You like him. And," she paused, taking a deep breath before she admitted, "if you want the truth I'll admit I was taking this whole miserable day out on you."

  Tension rocked the room. She could hear the second hand ticking away like an old eight-hour clock.

  But something intangible held her to the spot. She knew he wouldn't want her now, but she was compelled to stay. He must understand her. After all, they had a working relationship, didn't they?

  His shoulders flexed, as if scoffing off the whole thing. "You better go to bed. It's late. This isn't the time for a discussion."

  "But . . ." she began, coming closer. "I'm trying to say I'm sorry. I can't just leave. I came in here accusing you of things. I wasn't thinking. I apologize. This whole day was all my fault. I admit it. Okay? I'm trying to explain things to you. I'm a mother; that says most of it. Can't you for once understand me? Mothers get a little crazy about their kids sometimes, especially when they aren't in control of the situation. And lately," she sighed heavily, "I haven't been in control of anything. Maybe that's what's wrong. You've been more in control of my son than I have."

  He glanced at her with renewed interest. Had she said something right for a change?

  "You've talked to his teachers; you've helped him with his school work. You've taught him, talked to him; you was his friend. I've been so busy; I haven't had time for him. I guess my head's been in the clouds."

  Did he hear her plea of guilty?

  "I should have been home with Josh myself. I needed someone else to blame for all this. Someone to listen, someone to..." she stopped, realizing what she was saying.

  He whirled around on her, a desperate look in his eyes, and something else. "I said you better get to bed. I'm in no mood for explanations. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

  Her hands fell helplessly to her sides. He was being stubborn. After all, they had a good working relationship. She wanted it to stay that way. It wasn't likely she would sell the farm now. She needed him, in more ways than one.

  There was a new element in the air, though. Something she wasn't sure about. Or was she? Was she purposely flirting with danger? What could she lose?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The rain came down harder, louder. Or was that her heartbeat?

  Cooper excited her. She had known that from the beginning. He ignited her senses, sent fire through her veins, and she wanted to know why. She quite suddenly wanted to know this man better. No, that wasn't exactly true either. She wanted to know Cooper a lot better.

  He shook his head. "Angel?" he began, backing her against the wall once more, stalking her deliberately this time. "You just don't get the message, do you?"

  She shook her head and swallowed hard.

  "Okay, if I have to spell it out for you, here it is-—I haven't had a woman in a long, l—on—g time. And, if you don't get the hell out of here pretty damn quick, you are going to be the first."

  When she didn't react his eyes narrowed on her. "What's wrong with you, coming in here dressed like that? Couldn't you at least put a few clothes on? I've warned you before."

  A very womanly reaction expounded through her entire body, making her aware of her state of dress, and her vulnerability to the virile man standing just in front of her. She knew from the look in his eyes she should leave, but she felt so rooted. She had to stay, wanted to stay.

  "It's a flannel gown, not silk," she replied in defense.

  He shook his head, as though to clear it. "On you it doesn't seem to matter. You'd look just as beautiful in rawhide."

  He wasn't aware he spoke those words aloud until her mouth flew open in total surprise.

  Beautiful! He thought she was beautiful?

  Cooper Johnson, without a
woman? It seemed absurd!

  Her mind seemed filled with him. So much so she didn't see his arrogant smile, nor the way he moved in on her, until they were mere inches from an embrace.

  "What happened tonight, Angel? Didn't the Congressman come through? You certainly left the house looking the part. Heck, I even helped. I can't believe I did something so stupid." His warm breath fanned her hot cheeks. "Wasn't that enough for him? And now you come in here dressed like that! Look," he seemed exasperated at himself more than her. "I'm no substitute, Angel, if that's why you're here. Do you honestly want me to pick up where he left off?"

  She gulped, her guilt turning to shame, her face crimson. Her heart was pounding so loud it might explode. She broke into a cold sweat. But she admitted, "I know. It was all so wrong. I left looking like a tramp," she hung her head, "and came home feeling like a nun!"

  That did it! His control was nearly gone. Then, quite suddenly, his expression softened on her just for a second, and her heart leapt as she raised her eyes to look at him. She desperately wanted someone to understand, to listen, and to care.

  His voice lowered to a husky note, his face seemed closer. "Why didn't you go through with it? Isn't this what you planned all along, to seduce the Congressman into marriage?" Their gazes locked onto each other, hungrily. "Wasn't that the whole idea?"

  Her breast heaved, her eyes rounded. "I don't know. I suppose so. But, I couldn't go through with it. I mean it all seemed so contrived. By me—by him. Once I thought it through, it just wasn't right. I could feel it. You aren't supposed to plan things like that to happen. Are you? I mean, they're supposed to happen naturally, because you feel something for each other. I…I," a tear rolled down her cheek. Despite the guilt and shame she felt, another feeling was swamping her. "I suddenly realized I didn't love him. I don't think I ever really loved him. I just loved what he was, or what I thought he was. It's just at the time he seemed the perfect father figure. So steady, so dependable. The funny thing is, they don't even like each other. Josh and Greg. Never did. I swore I'd never marry him until Josh could come to accept it. But Josh wasn't coming around. Not by his own accord. And I'm not getting any younger. It's been ten years since I had a relationship with a man. Now, it all seems so futile. I guess that's why I kept taking a second look. I suddenly realized Greg's no father; he's a politician. Nothing was working out right. I had everything planned down to the letter. But, I couldn't bear to leave the farm any more than Josh could."

  That same muscle in his jaw flexed, and then slowly, ever so slowly, his hands spread over hers. His touch was so unexpectedly gentle, reassuring, it sent currents of awareness through her, and so pulsating it robbed her of all breath. She hadn't expected his compassion.

  Something warm and wonderful rushed through her veins like a liquid wildfire. This wasn't the right time, not the right moment, but…

  It was a simple action, the way his hands rubbed against hers. A very slow, erotic motion. The friction between them seemed to heat the entire room. She couldn't think any longer, she simply let herself feel.

  When his lips finally brushed like a feather across hers, and he raised his head to look into her face, his eyes glittered with a new knowledge. She was his to take or to play with at that moment, and he knew it. A heady knowledge that would make most men swallow her up, but he didn't.

  He waited, his eyes doing all the talking.

  She waited with bated breath. Her cheeks burned. Her heart pounded like horse hooves against concrete. Her body felt heavy with needs unspoken.

  Then finally the waiting was over. His lips claimed hers with a savage intensity. He meant to bruise and hurt and assuage his own ego, but when she gave in to him so eagerly, when her lips melted against his, when she responded with a wild abandon, the kiss began to change. He stole her breath, her heart, her being, and twisted it into the woman she never knew she was.

  In shock, he pulled away far enough to look into her eyes, obviously assuring himself he until had the same woman. But Angela didn't open her eyes, not at first, not until the shock wave of his kiss dissipated. She didn't want to miss a moment of sensations.

  Her pulse was erratic. Her breasts swelled against him as she moved toward him, blending into him, like hot molten lava rolling over hard rock. He groaned raggedly.

  Would he let her go, would he send her away in shame?

  "I should be telling you to go to bed, to get out, to leave," he murmured as his lips smothered his words into her hair. Their hands began to fold into each other.

  She felt his wild erratic heartbeat as he brushed light little kisses against the delicate curve of her jaw, over her nose, and down to her earlobe where he lingered.

  "D…do you want me to go?" she managed to ask as she threw her head back so his lips could trail down her neck. Don't stop, her mind pleaded.

  But he did. He pulled away again. This time he took her face into his hands, holding her very gently as though she were a fragile piece of china that might break. He shook slightly, with the needs of a man, as he stared into her starry eyes. His muscles flexed like steel.

  "I didn't plan this," he murmured, "any more than you did. But God knows how much I want you!" His voice was ragged and breathless as though it took all his power just to say the words. Then his eyes gleamed into hers. "You just came from one man, and I still want you. It doesn't seem to matter." His eyes searched hers intently. "And, unless I'm reading you wrong, you want me too!"

  "You're not reading me wrong," she barely cried out before his lips took hers. Her arms flew around his neck, pulling his head down, and urging him onward. His arms were at her waist, pulling her tighter. Like an early morning flower, she opened herself to the bright warmth of the sunshine of his loving, her mouth receiving his, their tongues waltzing, as though they'd known the song all along.

  He gathered her closer, much closer, pressing her into him, making her aware of his full arousal. If she was going to run, now was the time.

  There was a gentle hesitancy in his movements, giving her space. She could walk away if she wanted. She knew that as her eyes flew open, locking onto him. For one long moment everything stood until.

  But then, when she didn't move, when she didn't leave, he pulled her back into the warmth of his arms with a ragged groan, claiming her.

  "Oh God," he muttered as his lips began to plunder the soft curve of her neck. And, when she whimpered, he smiled against her skin and went lower, to one creamy shoulder, pushing away the gown, leaving a moist trail of currents racing up and down her arm, until the gown would go no further. He grumbled.

  He fell to his knees, gathering her against him. Holding her hips tightly, he pressed his head to the warmth of her flat belly. Then he looked up at her. "I don't care why you're here, I'm just glad you are."

  He shuddered hard, like a man too long without a woman, and she began to tremble. Not from fear, but anticipation. There was no fear of this man.

  She smiled and held his head to her. "I don't think I was really worried about Josh. I think I wanted someone to hold me."

  "Someone? Anyone?" He stopped cold, and waited for her answer.

  "No," she closed her eyes throwing caution to the wind. "Not anyone . . . you!"

  He stood up, a strange look in his eyes, as his fingers began to unbutton the tiny buttons of her gown. His eyes never left hers. Then ever so slowly he began pulling the gown upward, over her head and onto the floor in a wisp.

  His eyes were on hers at first, begging permission to feast on the rest of her. The air felt cool against her skin; she shivered, and his hands came to warm her. First, against her back, then down, and around her hips, slowly, seductively, as he pulled her fully against him and he slowly stood against her.

  A finger tipped her chin so he could kiss her lightly before he permitted himself the pleasure of looking at her.

  His breathless gasp shocked her as his eyes roamed lazily over the small fullness of her breasts. She saw the quick rise and fall of his chest as h
e fell back to gaze at her again and his lips wandered languorously over first one small mound then the other, caressing the tips of her breasts until they hardened and grew against him.

  When she threw back her head again it seemed to draw his attention even further down.

  He buried his head against the firmness of her belly as he brought her hips toward him. "You're so perfect," he murmured.

  When he glanced up at her, her eyes were closed. She was lost, transcended in time. Ever so slowly he tugged at her briefs, pulling at the soft, satin material, as his lips burned the silky flesh below. As the briefs slid slowly to the floor, and his lips went lower until, she moaned, urging him on in his conquest.

  Then suddenly, shaking, he stopped, his lips smothering every womanly part of her, and he whispered gently, "I'm no substitute for a Congressman, Angel. My hands are callused and rough. And I'm not much of a gentleman for doing this. But I'm gonna love you like you've never been loved."

  He left nothing undone. His lips were everywhere in a heated rush to please her. She moaned raggedly.

  "No one ever . . ." she began, only to be cut off by the exquisite ecstasy of his kisses. As his tongue flicked gently against the velvet softness of her, she screamed out, "I've read about it, dreamed about it, but never . . ."

  The pleasure was so overpowering, so unexpected, she couldn't get the words out.

  Suddenly she was undressing him, kissing him back, and exploring unknown territory. His clothes seemed to melt off him. And then their bodies joined in a white-hot fusion that threatened to explode the room apart. She was no longer the only one reacting. She felt his desires, felt the heat of him, and something more, much more. Something from deep within this man that held her, cried out for her and her alone.

  Angela trembled at the new found power she held over this gentle man, this gentle, caring man.

  "Are you cold, Angel?" he barely managed.

  She giggled softly, shaking her head. "Not as long as you hold me."

  He carried her to the bed, laid her ever so gently on top of the covers, and stared down at her in awe. There was an appreciation in his eyes she had never witnessed from a man before, not even Raif. He might not love her, but this was no casual flirtation. There was a bond, an unbreakable bond.