Only You

by Francis Ray

  Despite her annoyance with him, warmth curled through her. She didn’t want to fight, either.

  “I made the mistake of thinking you’re like other women. I won’t again.”

  “Now that we have that straight, I sort of missed you, too.” She let her body lean against his.

  “Sierra.” His head dipped, his mouth finding hers. Gathering her into his arms, he let the sweetness of her mouth, the exciting feeling of her against his body, soothe him. Lifting his head, he continued to hold her.

  A feeling of rightness washed over him. They didn’t have forever; he understood that. He planned on being greedy and taking all he could when he could.

  “I have an appointment in about ten minutes,” she said, sounding as disappointed as he felt.

  He straightened, then tunneled his hand through her hair, loving the rich texture and silky feel against his hand. “You can always cancel.”

  She rose on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “We both know I can’t.”

  He dropped his hands before he was tempted to drag her back into his arms and show her they could. “The second you finish, could you meet me at my place? I want to show you something.”

  Her beautiful eyes gleamed. “Is it something to do with this property or the one in Mexico?”

  He almost kissed her again. She enjoyed life so much. Made him wish … No, he’d run out of wishes years ago. “Meet me and find out.”

  THIRTEEN

  “It’s beautiful,” Sierra whispered as she stared at the orchid in a bright blue pot.

  Blade was glad she liked the flower and grateful that he had been in such a hurry to see Sierra that he had left it on the helicopter. He really would have felt like an ass with an orchid. “We placed hundreds in one area of the lagoon. The climate in the Maya peninsula is ideal. I thought you might like one.”

  Fingering the pinkish white velvet petal, she lifted her head. “There are two.”

  “The other one is for Jess. The horticulturist said they were easy to grow and I thought you two might like to compare notes,” Blade said, wondering why what had seemed like a great idea at the time now sounded dippy.

  “I can’t think of anything we’d like better.” She slipped her arms around his neck. “Thank you. You really were thinking about me.”

  “Like I said, you’re a hard woman to forget.” He kissed her quickly on the lips because he couldn’t resist, then glanced down at her slender feet. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her in the same pair of shoes, or outfit for that matter. “Did you bring a pair of jeans and boots?”

  “I grew up in Santa Fe,” she told him by way of answering.

  His lips twitched. “Then let me rephrase that. A pair that you don’t mind getting dirty and sweaty.”

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  “It’s not what you’re thinking. Do you trust me enough to wait and see?”

  “If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t be here.” Withdrawing her arms from around his neck, she went to the door. “What about you?”

  “Taken care of.” He glanced at his watch. “Ten minutes enough time?”

  “No, but I’ll manage.” The door closed behind her.

  Shaking his head, Blade went to his office. He’d barely settled behind his desk before Shane walked in. His face told Blade he wasn’t going to like what Shane was about to say. “What?”

  Shane handed him the gossip column from a San Francisco newspaper. “The last two sentences.”

  Blade read the indicated sentences: What has captured the attention of real estate mogul Blade Navarone and kept him in Dallas? Or should we ask who? He cursed softly. “Doesn’t she have anything better to do than speculate on the reason I’m still here?”

  “Need I point out that you’re sinfully rich, getting richer, and, although not as handsome as I am, you’ll do?”

  Used to what passed for Shane’s sense of humor, Blade said, “Will it raise enough interest to have reporters coming out of the woodwork?”

  “Too early to tell, but an offensive is better than a defensive.” He sat on the edge of the desk.

  Blade’s mouth tightened. “Are you suggesting I leave?”

  “Any other time you would he halfway to the chopper,” Shane pointed out.

  There was no sense beating around the bush. “I want to spend time with her.”

  “If you want to do it out of the media’s glaring eyes, you need to get back to Tucson for a few days. Then we can fly you back here under the radar.”

  Blade rose from the desk and went to stand on the terrace. “That won’t be much better. We still have to be careful.”

  Shane came to his feet as well. “Then speed up your plans to take her to Navarone Riviera Maya.”

  Blade wasn’t surprised. He’d shifted the Mayan carpenters off other projects to finish his beachfront home, finish the infiniti pool, had the orchids flown in early. “You think I’m crazy?”

  “I might have until last week,” he said thoughtfully.

  Surprise whirled Blade around. “You met a woman. Who is she? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  The corner of Shane’s mouth lifted. “I did.”

  A frown flittered across Blade’s brow, then cleared. “The woman from the Masters estate.”

  “Glad to see that Sierra hasn’t scrambled your brain cells.”

  “I’d be the one to worry about you if I didn’t know it would take more than a pretty face to move you,” Blade said. “When do I get a chance to meet her?”

  “You don’t,” Shane said, staring off in the distance. “Should I have the chopper ready tonight or early tomorrow morning?”

  The discussion was over. Since there had been times in the past fifteen years when Blade had been just as abrupt, he let it go. “In the morning. I’m leaving you here. I want Rio with her as well until I get back.”

  Shane’s mouth quirked. “They’ll probably clash.”

  “But she’ll be safe. No one is deadlier than Rio,”

  Sierra managed to be ready by the time Blade knocked. The sight of him when he picked her up and now, thirty minutes later, still made her heart beat faster. He wore sinfully tight jeans that lovingly clung to the muscles of his thighs and long legs. The white shirt made his skin appear more golden. His butt was Grade A.

  Watching him talk to the stable hand who had just emerged with two saddled horses for them to ride at the home of a friend outside of Dallas, Sierra tried to get her heart to slow down, remind herself to breathe. Blade was the most mouthwatering man she had ever seen.

  Sierra leaned against the side of the car and shook her head. Where had she come up with such a term?

  She was glad she had already called Luke to see how Catherine’s presentation had gone before he and Catherine boarded the plane. Sierra loved riding and went every chance she got, but all she could think about was Blade. Then one of those naughty thoughts popped into her head: Blade’s magnificent body naked and her riding him.

  Groaning, she turned toward the imposing white two-story mansion in the distance. A woman came out the front door and ran lightly down the steps. She continued across the manicured lawn. The split in the short red dress she wore revealed her long legs.

  She passed Sierra without as much as a glance. Clearly she had one person, more specifically one man, on her mind.

  “Blade,” she cried when she was less than five feet away.

  Blade only had enough time to turn before she threw herself into his arms, her mouth aiming for his.

  Sierra was moving the second the woman flung herself into Blade’s arms. She wasn’t aware of doing so.

  Blade leaned his head to one side; the kiss landed on his jaw. Firmly, he set the woman away from him, looking beyond her to see Sierra closing fast. She didn’t look happy. “Irene, Ben said you had plans,” Blade said.

  Brunette, slender, and beautiful, Irene walked her fingers up the wall of Blade’s chest. “Hearing you were coming changed them,” she said suggestively, trying
to wrap her free arm back around his neck.

  “You’ll have to change them back.” Completely releasing her, he moved to stand beside Sierra, curving his arm around her waist. He did it to show Sierra that Irene meant nothing to him. He didn’t want another fight. Sierra had fire in her eyes. “Sierra Grayson, Irene Truett. Her father, Ben, and I are friends and business associates.”

  Each woman sized the other up, from head to toe, in a way only women could, Blade thought. Not good.

  Sierra spoke first. “Hello.”

  “Hi,” Irene said, her voice filled with boredom until she smiled and spoke to Blade. “I’ll be in town all week before I fly back to New York. You know my number.”

  “No, I don’t,” he said, and watched the smile slide from her face.

  Her attention snapped back to Sierra. “So, Daddy said you work for Blade.”

  “Yes, at Navarone Place.”

  Irene’s mouth curled. “Yeah, I bet.”

  “Irene, that—” Blade began, but he was cut off by Sierra.

  “If I cared what you thought of me, you might be able to insult me. I don’t. I’ve never understood why girls and women don’t realize how small it makes them appear when they’re being petty,” Sierra continued over the other woman’s outraged gasp, “Blade is his own man. I’m not standing in your way.”

  Going to the stable hand, Sierra grabbed the first reins she came to and swung up in one fluid motion. The stallion sidestepped, snorted. “Good-bye, Irene. It’s been … . interesting.”

  “Sierra, that horse can be unpredictable,” Blade said, reaching out for the bridle. “I asked that he be returned for another horse.”

  Sierra wheeled the horse out of the way. She didn’t need two guesses on who had chosen the mount. “Thank you, Irene. I can handle man or beast.” With that she tugged on the reins. The stallion reared, his feet pawing in the air.

  “Sierra!” Blade yelled.

  The stallion’s hoofs hit the ground. Sierra patted the animal’s strong neck. “Let’s go for a run. Coming, Blade?” His name had no more than left her mouth before she took off, low in the saddle, letting the stallion run full out.

  “She’s riding him,” Irene whispered, surprise and awe in her voice.

  Blade faced her, his expression hard. “Be glad she can or else you, your father, and I would have a discussion that you wouldn’t like.” Dismissing her, he gathered the reins of the other horse, swung into the saddle, and chased after the woman who had made life interesting again.

  Hearing the pounding hoofs behind her, Sierra let the stallion run all out for a few minutes longer; then she slowed. She glanced over at Blade when he pulled alongside of her. “What took you so long?”

  “You’re riding the faster horse,” he said mildly. “You almost gave me a heart attack when he reared.”

  Surprise drew her brows together. She hadn’t considered that Blade might think she couldn’t control the horse. “You knew I could ride.”

  “There’s a difference between riding and handling a stallion,” he told her.

  “Comes with the genes.” She slowed as they crossed a small creek. “We were all riding by the time we were five.”

  He nodded. “My father had me on a horse before I could walk. After he died, Mama had to sell the livestock; then she was gone.” He shrugged as if throwing off a giant weight. “There wasn’t an opportunity in the orphanage to ride or learn about my heritage.”

  Sierra knew he wouldn’t want her sympathy. “How did you?”

  “Indian powwows. I used to sneak to every one I could,” he told her.

  Sierra stopped her horse. “My mother took us to several in Oklahoma. She was on several committees with the Creek tribe, and helped other tribes as well. The powwows were so moving and colorful.”

  “Yes,” he said quietly. Those were the only times he felt he belonged, until Mary came into his life. It hadn’t mattered to her that he was struggling financially, that some people judged him on the color of his skin and not his craftsmanship. Mary loved him unconditionally … and paid for it.

  “Blade?”

  Shaking off the past, he lifted his head. Sierra, her eyes no longer shining with happiness, stared at him. “Sorry. Did you say something?”

  “Race you back.”

  Blade took off after her. He could let the past overshadow the present as it had for the past fifteen years, or do as Mary would have wanted. Live.

  A short while later Sierra jumped from the stallion’s back in triumph. Not because she had won the race, but because Blade’s eyes were no longer shadowed as he dismounted. “The loser has to buy ice cream.”

  “I might have known the prize would involve food.” Taking both of the horses’ reins, he handed them to the attendant. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, sir.”

  “What would you have asked for if you had won?” Sierra rounded the car to the passenger’s side.

  His hot gaze seared her. “A long, greedy kiss.”

  Her body heated; her heart fluttered. “Well, Blade Navarone,” she said, sliding inside the car because her legs had turned to jelly. “If you buy me a double dip, you just might get lucky.”

  He got inside the car in record time and started the engine. “Buckle up, Sierra Grayson. Let’s see how fast we can find that ice cream.”

  Thanks to the car’s excellent navigation system, Blade pulled up in front of an ice-cream store in less than six minutes. Opening her door, he helped her out, not stepping back as she stood, enjoying the brush of her body against his.

  “You’re crowding me,” she said, her voice husky.

  “Later I plan to do a lot more.” He caught her hand and started for the ice-cream shop.

  The roar of several motors had them both looking around. Across the street several go-carts raced around a track.

  “I haven’t raced one in years.”

  “I suppose you’d like to go.”

  “We could go for double or nothing,” she suggested playfully.

  “You’re on.” He helped her back in the car. There was no way he was losing this time.

  Blade recalled those nine words multiple times as Sierra drove ruthlessly, fearlessly, challenging him and every other driver on the track. She’d been truthful when she said she didn’t like to lose.

  Neither did he. He took a sharp turn, catching a glimpse of Sierra out of the corner of his eye. They were tied one race each.

  Speeding for the finish line, he tried to tell himself it wasn’t just a macho thing, either, but he wasn’t quite able to make himself believe. So he wanted her to think he could move mountains. So he wanted to kiss her until she trembled in his arms. He was human and greedy where she was concerned.

  Her cart edged closer to him. His hands clamped around the wheel as he took the final curve with only a minimal decrease in speed. His eyes flickered to the left to make sure she was still with him. Taking his eyes completely off the track to ensure she was all right cost him the last race.

  He’d clipped a bumper and lost precious seconds. His only consolation was that she had glanced around to check on him. He’d waved her on. Another driver had been closing fast on her, but she’d won.

  This time it was just the two of them in the lead, going all out and hell-bent for victory. Ten feet. Nine. Eight. They crossed the finish line in a dead heat and coasted to a stop.

  Out of the cart, Sierra jerked her helmet off, shaking her hair so that the thick black strands cascaded wantonly down her slim back. She’d tried to plait her hair, but it had worked itself loose. She looked like a beautiful wicked angel. “Want to go for a tiebreaker?” She hooked her arm around her helmet.

  He knew exactly what he wanted and he always took what he wanted. She was in his arms, his mouth on hers before she took her next breath. He reveled in the taste of her, her slender body aligned with him, her softness to his hardness.

  Everything about her pleased him.

  When he felt his tenuous contr
ol slipping he lifted his head. Her lips were moist and trembling, her eyes dazed with passion. Whistles bombarded them. Most of the other drivers were young men.

  Sierra’s breath fluttered over her lips. “You took your prize before you won.”

  “That was just a warm-up.” He picked up the helmets they’d dropped on the ground. “It’s almost six. Are you hungry?”

  She smiled as they went to turn in the helmets. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

  “There’s a restaurant next to the ice-cream store. How about ordering to go while you’re eating your ice cream? Unless eating sweets spoils your appetite.”

  “Nothing spoils my appetite.”

  “Mine, either,” he said with a wealth of meaning and full of promise.

  They took Mexican food to the great room and sat in front of the fifty-inch plasma TV, which they paid little attention to. Instead she told him about the interviews with the newspapers, her new marketing idea, while all the time thinking about the long, hot kiss. If the one at the racetrack had been a warm-up, she could hardly wait.

  “You aren’t eating.” He looked down at her plate of fajitas.

  “Not as good as I’m used to,” she said by way of explanation.

  “Possibly.” He took her tray and set it beside his on the antique coffee table in front of them. “Or you could have something else on your mind.”

  “Possibly.” Her gaze went to his mouth.

  He scooted closer. “The same thing that’s on my mind.” One arm went around her waist, the other around her neck. “Why don’t we put each other out of our misery?”

  She sighed as his lips, fleeting and soft, brushed over hers, warming, teasing. His tongue stroked the seam of her mouth. She sighed in satisfaction and opened to him, felt herself being leaned backward.

  His hard body came down on hers. His weight felt so right, so incredibly good. Protest was the furthest thing from her mind. She freed his hair from the clip, ran her fingers through the thickness, pressed closer to him.