Montoya's Heart

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Montoya's Heart Page 16

by Bonnie Gardner


  Rance showed no effects from the accident he’d had just three weeks before. His bruises were gone, and his arms swung freely. He rolled down his sleeves and buttoned his cuffs as he came.

  A tingle of excitement surprised Maggie as Rance tipped his hat to Daisy, shook Joe’s hand, then directed his dark, smoldering eyes to her. Rance took her hand lightly into his and spoke. He must have said something, but Maggie didn’t register the words. She was too entranced with the music of his rich baritone voice to hear anything else.

  Suddenly it occurred to Maggie that the music had stopped. Rance looked at her, amusement in his dark eyes. Had he asked her a question? Heat colored her cheeks crimson.

  A rich, deep chuckle tickled Maggie’s ear as the color faded from her face. She looked up at Rance, panicky and embarrassed. Finally, she stammered, “I’m sorry....”

  “We’re almost ready,” Rance repeated.

  Rance had already said that once, Maggie realized, blushing again.

  “Tess called to say they were running late and to start without them,” Rance continued. He crooked his arm. “Shall we?”

  “Thank you,” Maggie said with relief. Relief that lasted only a few fleeting seconds. She had been able to escape Rance’s hypnotic eyes and melodious voice, only to fall under the spell of the heat radiating from his strong arm into her hand.

  He relinquished his hold on her moments later, when he showed Maggie to the shaded porch. Her eyes feasted on the colorful bounty in front of her. “It looks like I’ll have to diet all next week, too,” she commented shakily as Rance steered her to the side steps.

  “I have to put the chicken and peppers on plates, then we can eat.” Rance strode off to the grill.

  Lucy Carterette grinned as Maggie climbed the steps. “Whoever snags that man is going to be one very lucky lady.”

  Maggie laughed. Anything to cover her embarrassment. She’d been thinking the same thing... with one difference. The whoever who snagged him was going to be her.

  The tantalizing display of food astounded her in its variety. There were tacos and all the fixings for Jen. But there were spicy seasoned green beans, roasted corn, bowls of sauces ranging in colors from red to green, and a steaming pot of chili, as well. For dessert there were churros, a fried pastry, and several varieties of sliced, chilled melons. Maggie sighed as she tried not to think of her waistline.

  The heavy clatter of masculine feet on the steps heralded the approach of the menfolk. Rance carried a huge platter heaped high with steaming grilled chicken. He was followed by Bobby Carterette, who was carrying a tray of roasted green peppers. Old Bob and Joe brought up the rear.

  Rance set the brimming platter on the table and made room for Bobby’s. Then he turned to the assembled group and spread his arms expansively. “Mi casa es su casa. Mi comida es su comida. Eat!”

  Maggie’s children wasted no time in responding to Rance’s invitation, and scurried to the food-laden porch, she noted with an apologetic smile. Both kids showed no embarrassment when they began piling food onto paper plates. And Jen had worried that she wouldn’t like anything!

  Maggie held back until most of the others had loaded their plates and found places to sit on the porch. Then she let Rance guide her through a tour of the dishes he’d prepared.

  The breeze had changed, Maggie noticed later as she settled on a lawn chair. It wasn’t lazy now, and it brought with it the smell of rain.

  A sound from the drive called Maggie’s attention from the wind and her plate. She looked up to see Tess’s family Oldsmobile pull in behind her van. Tess’s crew hurried across the lawn and up to the porch as the first big drops of rain sprinkled the grass. Raindrops sizzled as they found the heated metal top of the grill.

  Happy that everyone had made it before the rain, Maggie glanced at Rance and grinned. He returned the smile with a thumbs-up, and motioned for her to eat, but Maggie could see the same smoldering hunger in his eyes that she felt. And it had nothing to do with the food.

  She bit into a succulent, tender chicken breast and chewed, trying to distract herself from increasingly erotic thoughts. From the shelter of the porch, comfortable and dry, with plenty of good food within arm’s reach, all seemed well. Thunder rumbled, seeming closer than before, and Maggie glanced apprehensively at the falling rain. Then a burst of laughter from a clutch of the gathered guests eased her mind.

  Maybe it would be all right. With all the people who were gathered here, maybe the ghost of Luther Hightower would stay put.

  And, at least, the lights hadn’t gone out.

  Chapter 12

  This storm wasn’t as bad as the one that had jammed the creek and flooded the bridge, Rance thought. But it had been enough to send everyone running inside in a flurry of activity, grabbing bowls and platters as the wind whipped the driving rain under the shelter of the porch roof.

  Just when they thought the worst of the storm was over and that they had gotten away without losing the lights, the electrical power had gone to parts unknown. The thunder and lightning had moved on by that time, but the rain still fell steadily. Rance had rummaged around until he found candles and used some of his ever-present matches to light them.

  When the meal was over and everyone sat, full and satisfied, he’d gone upstairs for his guitar. It hadn’t taken much to sweet-talk the reluctant group into joining him in song. One song had led to another, and soon they had sung every song Rance knew and some he didn’t. He had even tried to teach them several songs in Spanish.

  Flexing his cramping fingers, Rance decided that there had been enough singing. He hadn’t played in ages, and the hard calluses that had once protected the tips of his fingers were all but gone. His fingertips only tingled now, but they had screamed in pain as they pressed down on the metal strings during the last couple of songs. He lifted the guitar strap over his head and ducked under it, then placed the instrument carefully in its case.

  “Don’t stop now,” Jennifer begged with a dreamy voice.

  “Yeah. Play something by Sheryl Crow,” chimed in Little Tom.

  Tess made a face and shook her head slowly at her older son. “I don’t think she’s in Rance’s repertoire, son. Besides, he’s been playing for quite a while now, and he’s probably worn out.”

  “Rance, you are a man of many surprises. First a gourmet meal, then entertainment. It’s too bad I didn’t see you first,” Lucy said, nudging her dozing husband.

  Bobby Carterette woke with a start to the sound of laughter, having missed the joke that had been at his expense. “What’s so funny?” He stifled a yawn.

  His question only provoked another round of chuckles. Lucy patted her husband on the knee and told him she would explain later.

  “Mighty fine meal, son,” Joe Popwell told Rance as he hoisted himself out of the rocker he’d wedged himself into. “We enjoyed it, but I reckon me and Daisy’ll head on home now. It looks like the rain’s about quit.”

  Maggie’s and Tess’s children had formed a huddle and were whispering softly among themselves. Teeny, Tess’s twelve-year-old daughter, emerged from the knot of kids and acted as spokesperson for the group.

  “Can Buddy and Jen sleep over at our house tonight? They haven’t seen the latest Batman movie yet, and Tommy rented the video this morning.” Several eager faces looked expectantly at their parents. “And you don’t know when the electricity will come back on way out here in the country.” Teeny’s added logic clinched it.

  “I’m for it,” Maggie replied readily. “What about you, sis? You’re the one who’ll get all the noise and appetites.”

  Tess chuckled and looked at her husband. “I guess we can stand it just once. Besides, Rance stuffed ’em pretty full. Maybe they’ll go right to bed after the movie.”

  Little Tom and Buddy snorted.

  “Is that okay with you, old man?” She patted her husband affectionately on the knee.

  “I think we’ll survive,” Tom drawled, feigning a frown. “The rec room is on the o
ther end of the house, and I have earplugs somewhere.”

  “It’s settled, then. Buddy, you and Jen can stop by your place on the way out for a change of clothes and toothbrushes.” Tess clapped her hands together in a businesslike manner and hustled the kids out the door.

  Lucy nudged her sleepy husband and father-in-law toward the door, too. The evening is definitely looking better, Rance thought. In a couple of minutes, his guests would be gone, and he would have Maggie all to himself.

  Maggie looked even prettier than usual tonight. Rance hadn’t thought it possible for her to be even more beautiful than she already was, but the backless yellow sundress she wore brought out the best in her. It hugged her curvy body just the way he hoped he would tonight, and her curly red hair tumbled around her creamy white shoulders in wild abandon, begging him to play in their tangled strands.

  Rance felt certain that tonight he would finally learn the real secret of Maggie’s lips. The one other kiss so long ago hardly counted. And he still wasn’t certain he hadn’t dreamed it. No, those feelings had been too real, too heartfelt.

  A sudden thought stuck him and sent him reeling. What if she wanted to go home, too?

  “I guess I’m drafted to help with kitchen duty,” Maggie murmured as she watched the Carterettes back out and head down the drive. “I’ve never done dishes by candlelight.”

  Doing the dishes was the last thing Ranee had on his mind, but they had to be done, and they had given Maggie a reason to stay.

  “We may just have to scrape and stack them for now. The new water heater goes out with the lights, so we won’t have hot water.” He laughed as he assessed the heap of dirty serving dishes. It would have been worse if they hadn’t used paper plates. “This may be the only time I’ll regret spending the money on the electric water heater.”

  He let out a deep breath and looked at the dishes again. “I think they’ll hold till morning.” But he didn’t know if he would. He listened to the awkward silence in the room.

  “Or the lights come back on, whichever comes first,” Maggie quipped, filling in the echoing quiet. She stooped to pick up a dirty paper plate from the floor, where one of the kids must have left it.

  The soft light from the candles gave Maggie’s complexion a golden glow the sun could never begin to compete with. Her coppery hair glistened in the warm candlelight. Rance paused, drinking in her beauty.

  “Candlelight becomes you,” he finally whispered, huskily.

  Maggie looked up, a question in her eyes. A pleased smile formed on her peach-colored lips. “Thank you,” she murmured softly. She turned quickly back to the table and the dirty dishes.

  “That can wait,” Rance whispered. He took the plate she’d been scraping and capture her delicate white hands in his and raised them to his lips. He heard Maggie’s sharp intake of breath and registered the surprise in her eyes. He almost stopped what he was doing, but then Maggie smiled.

  Her shy smile issued an invitation that Rance gladly accepted. He kissed her soft hand, then cupped her chin in his palm. How delicate and pale Maggie’s skin appeared in contrast to his own dark hand. Rance struggled to keep his emotions in check and his touch light against her porcelain skin. He fought to keep his caresses tender, lest he hurt her. Or frighten her away.

  Maggie’s lips parted slightly, and Rance caressed the full lower lip with his thumb. Her tongue flicked out to wet her mouth, sending tremors of excitement coursing through him.

  Rance tilted Maggie’s captured chin up toward him, and he leaned forward and touched her lips with his own hungry mouth. He felt her tremble, but she didn’t pull away.

  Her lips, soft and yielding, tasted slightly sweet, like the melon she’d eaten earlier. Rance thought he would be content with just one kiss, but that one taste only whetted his appetite for more. His ardor built and his hunger increased. He had to explore the depths of her passion and share his own.

  Maggie’s lips parted, inviting him in, and he plundered the mysterious depths. A groan escaped from deep within him, or had Maggie moaned? How had he survived so long without her sweet lips?

  His hand left Maggie’s soft face and tunneled through her mass of flaming hair. His fingers plowed through curling waves and didn’t resist as tendrils of silken fire wound themselves around his seeking fingers. Maggie’s hands found the buttons of his shirt, released some, and explored his fevered chest with cool, sure fingers.

  How long could this go on before he went totally insane? How long could it go on before he would have to have her?

  She undid the rest of his buttons and pushed the shirt roughly, urgently, off his shoulders. He released his hold on her only long enough to shrug off the distracting garment, then gathered her back into his arms.

  Her hands tangled through the hair on his chest, teased at his nipples until they knotted and tingled with desire. Then she took one beaded nub into her mouth and laved it with her tongue.

  Rance moaned with pleasure as she repeated the process with the other one, and then her hands moved on, leaving his skin flaming and sensitive wherever her cool fingers touched. He felt her hands on his back, tracing the muscles, sending shivers down his spine with each new touch.

  He reached for the clasp at the back of her neck that held the yellow dress closed. He had to explore her the way she had him. He paused, hoping that she wouldn’t push him away.

  Maggie stiffened suddenly in his arms. “What is it? Why did you stop?” she murmured, her warm breath heating his fevered flesh yet more.

  Relief flooded through him. “I thought...” He shook his head and looked down into her questioning green eyes. “I don’t know what I thought. I want you to be sure...” He left the thought unfinished. This time, it had to be her idea, if they were going to complete what they’d already begun.

  “I’m sure, Rance,” she whispered, her voice breathy and shallow with need. “Make love to me, Rance. Love me now.”

  Ignoring the twinge of pain from his healing ribs, Rance swept her into his arms. Pausing only to fling open the heavy wooden door, he carried her into the bedroom. He laid her gently on the queen-size bed they’d shared once before and lowered himself to the mattress beside her.

  The room was dark. No softening candlelight here. Only the occasional flicker of lightning from the dying storm. Maggie breathed a silent prayer for that. She’d never before entered a man’s bedroom with this purpose in mind. Not a man she wasn’t married to. Perhaps it was better that she not be able to see. Only to feel.

  She heard the rustle of the bed linens as Rance turned down the spread. Then he cradled her in his arms and moved her to rest on the crisp, cool sheets. Maggie lay there, wondering what to do, until the pop of his jeans’ snap startled her, and she drew in a quick, shallow breath. Gentle fingers touched her lips.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning the fires of desire that burned deep inside her.

  She heard the rasp of his zipper as it went down, then the soft slithering of his jeans as they slid down his long, muscled legs. She reached to touch him as he kicked out of his shoes and made quick work of removing the rest of his clothing. Maggie had never realized how arousing it was to lie in the dark and listen to the sound of a man removing his clothes. Warmth spread through her, leaving her aching and moist and ready.

  Maggie held her breath as Rance turned to her and released the catch at the back of her dress. The fabric fell free, leaving her breasts exposed to the warm night air. She shivered, not from cold, but from excitement, and she heard him gasp. Or had he grimaced with pain? She had to help him; it hadn’t been that long since he was injured, so she quickly undid the closure at the waist of her dress and pulled the concealing fabric down and off her legs.

  She felt more than saw Rance’s heated gaze as he took in her naked body, exposed briefly in the strobing lightning flash. She forced herself to lie still as his trembling hand gently traced a path down her waiting body from her flushed cheek to the spot at the juncture of her th
ighs. She waited as he studied her, wanting to turn away from his gaze, but not wanting to miss a moment of it.

  Then he reached for her face, sending the scent of his spicy aftershave wafting toward her. His lips found hers while his hands caressed her, bringing her aching body yet more alive than it already was. “I thought this would never happen,” he murmured, more a moan than words.

  “I’ve waited for this, too,” Maggie whispered back, her voice thready and weak under his skillful ministrations.

  “I don’t think I can hold back much longer,” he muttered. His urgent throbbing against her thigh underscored his need.

  “Then don’t.”

  Rance crushed her into his arms, and Maggie felt herself rise above everything that made her life seem real.

  Bare flesh against flesh. Skin to skin. How long had it been? Maggie closed her eyes as Rance lowered his lips to her neck, then moved lower. He traced gentle circles around each breast with his tongue, teasing each hardened nipple with his teeth. He suckled until he had his fill, then returned his attention to her mouth.

  Rance’s kisses tasted sweet and hot. Partly from the seasoned food he’d had earlier, partly from him. Maggie savored the spicy flavor, running her tongue lightly over his lips. Rance moaned and pulled her tighter to him, crushing her with his body.

  She was so aware of his hardness throbbing against her arching body, and she responded with a sweet aching within her very core. Rance’s exploring fingers found the spot and sent her writhing with pleasure. Maggie pushed him away. She wouldn’t settle for anything less than his complete possession this time.

  “I want to feel you deep inside me,” Maggie barely managed to gasp. Her heart pounded, matching the rhythm of Rance’s, so close to hers.

  He rolled to cover her, nudging her legs apart with his knee. Maggie felt the hot pressure of his shaft at the opening to her inner self. He pushed, and she let him in.

  Tremors of pure sensation washed through her as he filled her, pushing, demanding, sending her rocking and arching against him. She clutched at his back, drawing him closer, urging him deeper, until they’d climbed to the heights of passion. Then, with a shuddering moan, she felt his release, and they tumbled over the edge.

 

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