Every Breath She Takes

by Norah Wilson

  He might have found control enough to savor the picture she made, but she wouldn’t be slowed. She was intent now on getting his buckle undone. Afraid he’d embarrass himself if she touched him with those butterfly fingers, he rolled away and shucked his jeans off himself, underwear and all. Before discarding the jeans, he extracted a condom from a pocket. Flopping back on the bed, he held it up for her to see.

  “Don’t hate me for bringing this. I really wasn’t presuming anything—”

  The look in her eyes—Lord, had they always been so blue?—stopped him. Her eyes didn’t despise him. Nor did the fingers that skimmed his forearm. She took the condom from him with a wolfish smile, and he felt something break loose inside him.

  “I sincerely hope it’s not the only one you brought.”

  He grinned. “No, darlin’, it’s got some friends.”

  She tore the packet open and knelt beside him. As she sheathed him, her touch was a curious combination of the sureness of a surgeon’s hands and the reverence of a lover’s. He groaned, half in arousal and half in self-mockery.

  “Good thing I brought spares. I think I’ll have to make it up to you next time. This is gonna be way too fast.”

  She laughed, a clear, joyous sound. “Race you, cowboy.”

  She did.

  He rolled her underneath him and entered her swiftly and without preamble, eliciting a muffled half-scream from her. He froze in confusion. Christ, had he hurt her? Then he felt her muscles begin to contract around him and understood.

  With a growl of his own, he withdrew and filled her again, exulting in her cries. Once, twice, three times, and each time she sobbed her pleasure. He wanted to go on stroking her forever, but she was flying apart. Then she locked her legs around him and he came apart too. Mindless, he pumped himself into her until his world shattered.

  Lauren came back to herself slowly, a piece at a time. In her arms, Cal still shuddered, and she marveled at how helpless he was. Somewhere in the region of her heart, a well of tenderness sprang, as sweet as it was unexpected. She stroked his heaving back as he regained control.

  “Sorry, I must be crushing you,” he said at last.

  “Mmm, but in the nicest possible way.”

  Reluctantly she let him pull away, but he didn’t go far. He rolled onto his back, insinuating one arm under her. Without conscious thought, she curled into him, her lips curving as his arm came up to smooth her back possessively.

  “I guess it was embarrassingly evident that I needed a good…crushing, huh?” she said.

  There was a pause, and his fingers stilled. “I’m not very good at reading between the lines, Lauren, so I’ll just ask. Are you saying it’s been a long time?”

  She thought briefly about Garrett. But only briefly. “A year, give or take a few weeks.”

  Another pause. “But I thought…I mean, you write erotica…”

  Whoops. She kept forgetting about that little lie and how it might have colored his perception of her.

  “Ian Fleming wrote James Bond. That doesn’t mean he ran around killing bad guys and seducing women.”

  “Good point,” he conceded. “Just for the record, it’s been a long time for me too, if you hadn’t already guessed from that performance.” He grimaced. “I should be thanking you for saving me some serious face.”

  She lifted her head and traced one finger along his smooth chin. He must have shaved tonight. For her.

  “Mmm, and what a nice face it is,” she said. He grazed the calloused tips of his fingers across her hip just then, causing her to suck in a breath, but she refused to be distracted. “Do you know, the first time I saw you, I wanted to touch your face.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I wanted to see if it felt as hard as it looked.” God, she couldn’t believe she was telling him this stuff.

  He treated her to that devilish, cocky grin. “See anything else you liked?”

  His hand had slid down to explore the indentation of her waist. Desire mushroomed again in her belly. And something else, something more tender.

  “Yes, I’ve seen plenty I like. I’ve seen your patience with kids when you’re teaching them to ride. I’ve seen your forbearance toward Marlena, in spite of the problems she poses. I see your loyalty to Jim, who anybody can see is too crippled up with arthritis to do the work he used to do. I see—”

  He rose on one elbow. “Yeah, yeah, and I open doors for ladies and help old folks across the street.” He tipped her head up and kissed her mouth hard, almost angrily.

  “What was that about?” she asked when he let her breathe again.

  “You’d pretty much reached the end of my redeeming qualities, so I thought I’d save you from floundering.”

  Lauren wanted to protest that she hadn’t even begun, but the shadows in his eyes told her to let it go. Instead she gave him what he’d been fishing for, the physical stuff.

  “Okay, I confess. It was your back.”

  “My back?”

  With the flat of her hand, she pushed him back down. She wriggled up to a sitting position, then moved to straddle him, her own fluidity surprising her. His eyes blazed with carnal approval.

  “Yeah, your back,” she said as his hands came up to smooth the outside of her thighs. “There’s this thing you do when you’re riding sometimes. Your back is slightly bent and your shoulders are really loose. You look…I don’t know…weightless, I guess, like you’ve become part of the horse.”

  “Cutter’s slump,” he rasped. His hard hands grazed a path along her hips, then closed on her waist. “We use it when we’re working cattle. And stragglers on trail rides too, it seems.”

  “Cutter’s slump—that’s a good description.” She drew a finger down his chest to his abdomen, delighting in the way his muscles bunched under her. “There’s just something about the angle of your shoulder blades, the way your neck slopes into your shoulder…”

  She leaned forward, bracing herself against his chest, to touch her mouth to that very confluence of sinew. The salt taste of him bloomed on her tongue, sharp and exciting, so she worked her way along the cord of his neck with open mouth. Then he tangled his fingers in her hair and lifted her mouth to his.

  His kiss was fierce, devouring. Beneath her, his heart thundered, and she felt the urgent press of his arousal against her buttocks. Instinctively she rotated her hips and gasped as his penis nudged her most intimate flesh. Desire spiraled out of control. She would have reared back then to accommodate him, but he locked his hands on her and held her firm.

  “Condom!” he managed in a strangled voice.

  Condom! Of course. How could she have forgotten? “Where?”

  “Jeans. Front pocket,” he gritted.

  She dove for his jeans, retrieving a packet. “Got it.”

  He took it from her. “Better let me do it this time.”

  As he dealt with the task, Lauren thought again about her lie that first day, wishing she’d picked some other genre to claim as her own. Like cozy mystery. With knitting and cats and Angela Lansbury and afternoon tea. Something that wouldn’t have fed into any unrealistic, supersexed illusions he might be harboring.

  Illusions that might be the sole reason he wanted her.

  The thought dampened her humor, and her ardor, a little. She was tall, with good legs, but otherwise unremarkable. Boyish, even. Her waist didn’t dip enough, her hips didn’t swell enough, and her breasts didn’t jut enough. And Cal was definitely the kind of guy who went for all that dipping, swelling, jutting stuff. Even if she hadn’t met Marlena in the flesh, she’d have known that much.

  “Come back to me, baby.”

  His words silenced the neurotic voice in her head. That, and the powerful erection he sported. Whatever his reason, there could be no denying he wanted her now.

  And now was all that mattered, wasn’t it? All they had.

  He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Now, where were we?”

  That dispelled her wistful mood instantly. Laughi
ng, she dived onto him. He caught her, grunting as he absorbed her weight.

  “Laugh at me, will you?” His hands skimmed her sides teasingly. “You realize I’ll have to make you pay for that?”

  “Mmmm.” She lifted her hands to his and guided them over her breasts. “And pay, and pay, and pay…”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Cal caught himself whistling as he wielded the paintbrush. Grinning, he slapped varnish on the last two-inch slat in the cedar tub surround he’d constructed to house the new hot tub. Finished, he stepped back to admire his handiwork.

  He’d resisted the idea of an outdoor whirlpool—this was Alberta. Two months of summer and ten months of hard sledding. But he had to keep up with the trends, and hot tubs were in demand. Besides, he was developing an appreciation for them.

  For about the millionth time today, he pictured Lauren in it, steaming water caressing her small breasts…

  “Ooh, hot tub. Is it operational yet?”

  Marlena. “Sorry to disappoint you. Need a visit from the electrician first.” He put his brush on the newspaper and capped the can of stain. “But by this time Friday, you could be just as pruny and sunburned as you like.”

  “You know I never go out without sunscreen,” she murmured.

  Cal felt her eyes on him as he gathered up his materials and glanced up. “Was there something I could do for you, Marlena?”

  She squinted at him. “There’s something different about you…”

  “Yeah, I’m deeper in debt. You have any idea how much these units cost?” Not waiting for a reply, he strode to the shed.

  “That’s it!” she exclaimed. “That’s your sex walk.”

  He stopped. “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t even try it, Taggart. I know that walk, like everything’s been lubricated. We were married, remember?”

  Something in her tone made him look closer. She looked, he realized, as though she might splinter into a hundred pieces.

  “I do remember,” he said gently.

  “It’s that black-haired one, isn’t it? That Townsend woman.”

  “Marlena, I don’t think we should be talking about this…”

  “No, it’s okay. It’s good. Good that you’ve found someone. I’m happy for you, Callum.”

  “It’s not like that.” He stepped into the shed. If he thought he’d discouraged her from continuing the conversation, he was mistaken. She entered the shed right behind him.

  “I’d say it’s exactly like that. I’ve seen how you look at her, you know.”

  He didn’t argue, just set about cleaning his brush.

  “You know what’s funny?”

  Geez, why did women want to talk about this stuff? “What?”

  “After all this time, it feels like I’ve just lost you.”

  “Marlena…”

  “Oh, I know, I lost you long ago, after the things I did. But through it all, you never took up with other women.”

  Aw, hell, she’d sprung a leak. Cal pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to her. As always, he was helpless in the face of tears. “Don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.”

  “I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t make a lick of sense, especially after my own conduct, but it feels like you’ve been unfaithful.” She blew her nose and took a deep breath. “Crazy, eh? Not that she’s the first, I’m sure. It’s just my being here, seeing you…”

  “I understand how you feel.” He did. Sort of.

  She wadded the handkerchief up into a ball. “You’re moving on.”

  “I guess.” Cal wished he could find the words to help her, despite the hell she’d put him through—was still putting him through by being here. He’d loved her once, or thought he had. “We all have our demons, Marlena. Lord knows you had it rough growing up. We had that in common. It was the thing that bound us.”

  Marlena dabbed at her eyes, which were now thankfully dry. “Yeah, but you didn’t make a mess of your life like I did.”

  That was arguable. “You can stop running, you know. Rest up. We could get some help to get you off the chemicals…”

  “Stop running?” Marlena laughed. “Oh, Cal, you know I can’t stop. If I stand still, it all catches up with me.” She touched her hair as if to assure herself it was unmussed. When she spoke again, she sounded much more like herself. “Which is why I’m going to saddle up and drag Brady out for a ride.”

  A scraping noise from outside caught Cal’s attention. Then he saw the Stuart boys fly by the open door. Just kids chasing a barn cat. He stuck the paintbrush in a bottle of solvent.

  “Sunset ride’s just a few hours away.”

  “I can’t wait that long. I’m crawling inside my own skin, Cal. I need to ride now.” Marlena folded her arms across her chest, her fingernails raking her forearms.

  She really was in a bad way, and he’d helped put her there by withdrawing her cache of drugs. “Sure, go ahead. You know these trails as well as anyone, and Brady’s a good horseman. But do me a favor, would you?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Take it easy on Brady. If you’re intent on messing around with him, then limit yourself to him. And for chrissakes, stay away from Harvey McLeod.”

  Marlena huffed out an exasperated sigh. “Like I have a choice. I’m hardly likely to run into Harvey McLeod or anyone else, since I can’t leave the property. I might as well be under house arrest, for God’s sake.”

  Typical Marlena. She’d ignored the part about Brady and instead bitched bitterly about the limitations he’d put on her mobility. He could only hope she’d respect his request.

  “House arrest?” He arched an eyebrow. “You’ve got four thousand acres to roam without leaving Taggart land. That’s a pretty big house.”

  “A pretty boring one too,” she returned.

  “It’s for your own protection, so suck it up.”

  He gestured for her to precede him, and they stepped out into the sunshine together, right into Lauren’s path.

  “Lauren!” he said.

  “Hi.”

  His pulse leapt like a jackrabbit as their gazes met. She’d been hard to resist before he knew how she tasted, what her skin smelled like, how sweetly she fit under him. Now, when he looked at her, his senses sizzled. For a second, an answering heat deepened the blue of her eyes, then her gaze slid away.

  “Marlena, did I just hear you say you’re going riding?” she said.

  “Yeah, me and Brady.”

  “Where are you headed?”

  Marlena was clearly surprised by the question. “I don’t know. Open horizons, I guess. Why you askin’?”

  “I’m feeling pretty restless myself. Mind if I tag along?”

  Marlena shot Cal a look, but he was too surprised to react.

  She turned back to Lauren and shrugged. “Sure, if you want. But pick a fast mount, not that nag you usually ride. I’ve got some steam to blow off.” Marlena cast Cal another speculative look, but he kept his face blank. Then she turned back to Lauren. “I’m going to find Brady. Meet us at the stables in ten if you’re coming, otherwise we leave without you.”

  Marlena strode off. Cal grabbed Lauren’s arm before she could follow suit.

  “Don’t go. I’ve got an hour before I have to start tacking up horses.” He relaxed his grip to caress the sensitive skin at the crook of her elbow. “Maybe we could put it to good use?”

  Lauren suppressed a groan at the leap of need. It wasn’t fair that he could call up so much desire in her with that tiny stroke of a thumb. And it wasn’t fair that she couldn’t stay here and luxuriate in it. Their time would be so short…

  “I’m sorry, Cal, I can’t.”

  “Of course you can.” He pulled her around to face him, toe to toe. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. About us.”

  She trembled. “Me too.”

  “I want to peel your clothes off real slow, in the full light of day. And every inch I uncover, I want to taste.” He leaned his forehead on hers, as shaky as
she was.

  “Oh God, that sounds good.” She sagged against him, inhaling the clean scent of aftershave and man, knowing suddenly that she’d remember the smell of him as long as she lived. Then she remembered Marlena and jerked away. “But it’ll have to wait. Come see me after supper.”

  With that, she spun and hurried off toward the stables before she—or he—could change her mind.

  She passed a miserable afternoon. True to her promise, Marlena rode hard. It was all Lauren could do to keep up, even with the faster mount, a blue roan gelding named Prince.

  Then they began to encounter streams crisscrossing the grassland, and the pace slowed, giving Lauren more time to think. She’d overheard the tail end of Cal and Marlena’s conversation as she’d stood outside the shed, eavesdropping guiltily. Cal had asked Marlena to take it easy on Brady. Was there any particular reason he’d made that request? Was it just because Brady was young and potentially more likely to confuse lust with love than an older man might? Or was there some other reason? Was there something about young Brady that made him…fragile? Did he have a history of mental health issues?

  The thought sent a chill through her.

  As did the realization that she was having a hard time getting a bead on Brady. From the start, she’d had a pronounced physiological reaction to seeing him with Marlena, but she’d attributed that completely to the way he’d been introduced to her the morning that the four of them had headed off into the bush. The shock of seeing Marlena for the first time and realizing that she was Cal’s ex-wife, and then immediately realizing Brady was Marlena’s lover and thinking about all the potential for jealousy…Since then, though, every interaction she’d had with Brady had persuaded her that he was a harmless, nice boy. And yet some hangover from the emotion of that first day continued to color her reaction to him. Or at least that’s what she’d assumed her disquiet stemmed from.