by Judy Duarte
A response came to mind, a piece of advice. And like some of the other things that had leaked out of his black box of memories, he had no idea where it had come from or why it had meant something to him.
Still, he shared it with her. “Someone once told me that God didn’t put a dream in one’s heart without giving a person the ability to make that dream come true.”
“Do you believe that?” she asked.
Yes, he did. But he wasn’t sure why. He slowly nodded. “Yeah. I do believe it.”
A kindred feeling settled around them, as did awareness. And attraction.
Louanne must have felt it, too, because she tore her gaze away from his, pushed her chair back, got to her feet and began to pick up the dishes. “It’s getting late.”
Yeah. Too late to ignore what was going on between them. Rowan stood and took the plates from her hands, replacing them on the table. Then he cupped her jaw to draw her gaze back to his, back where he wanted it.
His thumb drew slow circles on her cheek, but she didn’t pull away. Didn’t blink an eye. She just stood there, caught up in the heat of the moment—or so it seemed. Maybe he was the one who was lost in a battle of hormones and pheromones and lust.
But when he opened his arms, she fell into his embrace and lifted her mouth to his.
Obviously, he wasn’t fighting the battle alone.
Chapter Eight
The kiss began slow and easy, like the first one they’d shared, but it quickly grew fast and reckless.
Rowan’s tongue sought every moist inch of Louanne’s warm, velvety mouth, as his hands slid along the slinky fabric of the dress he’d bought her. The texture heightened the sensitivity of his touch, as he caressed the slope of her back and the curve of her hips.
Passion flared, testosterone surged, and he couldn’t get enough of the willing woman in his arms.
It had been ages since he’d wanted a woman this badly—if he ever had.
He wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he did. And for some reason, he suspected that realization ought to scare the hell out of him, although he didn’t know why.
Maybe because his blood was pumping out of control, and the kiss seemed full of promises Rowan wasn’t sure either of them were ready to make. But that didn’t mean he wanted to slow things down or that he wanted the woman in his arms any less.
And there was no question about it. She wanted him, too. Badly. He could tell by the way she whimpered when his hands sought her breasts, when his fingers skimmed her hardened nipples. He could tell by the way her hands stroked his body, claiming him as he claimed her.
The breath-stealing kiss intensified, stoking a fire in his blood and a hunger in his soul.
Rowan cupped her derriere and pulled her flush against the blood-pounding ache only she could relieve. Instead of balking at the strength of his arousal, she nestled against him—providing both ecstasy and agony at the same time.
A coyote howled in the distance, reminding him where they were and where they ought to be—in the comfort and privacy of a candlelit bedroom.
Should he lead her into the house and let passion carry them both away? Or stay here for a while longer, letting the magical moment build under a canopy of stars?
Before he had a chance to make a decision, Louanne gently pushed against his chest, slowing the rush and cooling the heat.
“I’m sorry.” She ran a hand through the strands of her hair. “That was a crazy thing for us to do.”
He wanted to argue, but what was the use? With no memories to help him wage either a defense or an agreement, he was left with lust and hormones dictating his actions, as well as his fate.
Somehow, his conscience managed to break free.
What did he have to offer her—other than a night of lovemaking that promised to be hot and fulfilling?
It certainly would be enough for him, but as a single mother trying hard to keep a ranch in the red and to raise her son, she needed more than a man who didn’t know where he’d been or where he was going.
No wonder she had reservations about letting the magic play out.
Rowan wanted to be noble and understanding, yet his desire hadn’t abated. If anything, he wanted her more than when their lips had been locked and their hands had sought the mysteries that lay beyond their clothing.
But taking things to a deeper level was more than a physical craving. There was a lot more hanging in the balance than sexual fulfillment. As the devil and angel on his shoulder battled it out, his words, like his memories failed him when he needed them most.
He blew out a ragged breath and raked a hand through his hair. Damn the amnesia that kept him from being whole. And damn the pull this woman had on him.
He’d had sexual relationships before—many times, it seemed. But they’d never touched him on an emotional level, never stirred his conscience. At least, he didn’t think any of them had.
And right now, his emotions were running amok.
Maybe it was the amnesia causing everything to blur and tumble. That had to be it. Maybe he was on the verge of remembering things, and all the bottled up feelings were trying to bust free.
He had half a notion to kiss her again, to see if things would begin to make sense. But this was no time to play around. Louanne deserved a guy who could commit—a man with both feet on the ground and a solid game plan.
Fighting the urge to take her back into his arms, Rowan shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m the one who should be sorry for kissing you like that. Hell, I don’t even know who I am.”
Louanne understood exactly how he felt. Because, when they’d kissed, when she’d lost herself in his embrace, she’d completely forgotten who she was. And, more importantly, why she shouldn’t get involved with another man.
What if she made another mistake? Trusted another man who would threaten and hurt her?
More than two years ago, she’d fallen for Richard’s charm, then watched him evolve into a stalker and a sociopath. He’d tried to control every aspect of their relationship, every part of her—body, heart and mind.
Rowan, of course, seemed completely different than Richard.
But he, as well as his past, were a mystery.
Did that past involve violence?
For some reason—wishful thinking, maybe—it didn’t seem likely.
When she’d come to her senses in the midst of a star-spinning, knee-weakening kiss and changed her mind, Rowan had respected her decision. He hadn’t seemed particularly happy about it. But he’d stopped. Stepped away.
Richard wouldn’t have been that understanding. He would have grown angry. Demanding.
And she had the scars to prove it.
The black-and-blue marks he’d left on her body had faded with time. But not the bruise he’d left on her heart. And his accusations and threats still rang in her mind.
Oh, dear God. What if Richard showed up? He’d always flown into a rage when he suspected she was seeing someone else. What would happen if he actually found her romantically or sexually involved with another man—with Rowan?
The fear she’d wanted to leave behind at Cedar Glen eased back, but she forced it aside. Richard didn’t know where she was. She’d hidden her tracks well. And as long as she drew no attention to herself or her whereabouts, she and Noah were safe.
She looked in Rowan’s eyes, saw him waiting for a response. Her lips were still warm and tingling from his kiss, her pulse still surging, but she forced herself to be rational.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” she told him, before gathering the plates he’d taken from her earlier. “I made a mistake once, and I’m not ready to jump into another relationship right now.”
“I understand,” he said, although she doubted whether he had any idea how big a mistake her relationship with Richard had been.
Then he picked up the empty bottle of wine and, before snatching the pair of tarnished silver candlesticks that had belonged to her grandmother, he blew against the flick
ering flames.
Like the fiery kiss and the romantic ambiance they’d once shared, the candlelight faded to black.
For just one, brief, regret-filled moment, Louanne watched the curling wisps of smoke disappear into the night.
The Harley was more beat-up than anything. And with a little effort and a mechanical knowledge that seemed to spring from nowhere, Rowan managed to get the bike running the next afternoon.
There was, he supposed, no reason to remain on the ranch. But he had nowhere else to go at the moment. Nowhere he wanted to be. And until his memory returned, providing him options, it felt like this was a nice place to wait.
As he rolled the scraped and dented Fat Boy out of the barn and into the bright afternoon light, he spotted Louanne on her knees in the garden. From the playpen, Noah watched over his mother, as she plucked zucchini squash from a bushy vine.
They hadn’t spoken about the kiss they’d shared, about the desire that brewed just under the surface—not while Rowan helped with the dishes last night, and not this morning over breakfast.
The summer breeze blew a wisp of hair from the single braid she wore. Even in a pair of faded denim overalls, she was a sight to behold.
She paused for a moment, looking over the dark green squash she’d picked, then arched and stretched her back.
The woman worked hard. Too hard, it seemed. And other than Noah and pride in a hearty garden, she didn’t seem to find much pleasure in life. Just a little television in the evening and an occasional card game with Aggie and Pete.
What kind of life was that?
He glanced down at the Harley, wondering if she’d like to take a ride with him. Maybe become a carefree kid again and leave her worries behind—if only for a short while.
There was only one way to find out.
As Rowan approached the garden that lined the side of the house, Noah spotted him and let out a happy squeal.
Had anyone ever been delighted to see Rowan before? He didn’t know, but it felt damn good to know the little baby liked him.
Louanne looked up and shielded her eyes from the afternoon sun with a dirt-smudged hand. “Did you get the motorcycle running?”
Rowan nodded. “I was going to take it out on a test run. Would you like to ride along?”
Interest sparked a light in her eyes, then she glanced at her son, at the garden, at her hands. “I’d better pass.”
“Why?” he asked. “I’m sure Aggie can watch Noah. Besides, it will do you good to have some fun. Other than an evening playing cards, I can’t think of anything you’ve done for pleasure.”
For a moment, he considered the kiss they’d shared, the sexual pleasure it had promised. But he tossed the thought aside.
Louanne wasn’t ready for their relationship to take a turn like that. And neither was he—not until his memory returned. Of course, whenever he was close enough to touch her, his libido put up a hell of an argument.
She glanced toward the small clapboard house where Aggie and Pete lived. Then she bit her bottom lip and returned her gaze to his. “If Aggie can look after Noah, maybe I’ll join you for a ride.”
Rowan didn’t try to mask the smile that stole across his face or still the sense of excitement.
Ten minutes later, after Noah had been welcomed into Aggie’s loving arms and Louanne had gone inside, washed her hands and freshened up, she climbed on the back of the Harley. She placed her hands loosely upon his waist. “You’re not going to drive too fast, are you?”
He looked over his shoulder and grinned. “I’ll keep it under a hundred. Are you ready?”
She nodded, then gripped him tighter.
Rowan felt a surge of pride to have Louanne behind him, holding on. And it felt damn good to rev the engine, to accelerate and take off down the dirt drive.
Riding the Harley, he realized, had been something he’d done often. An escape he’d relished.
When they reached the county road, Rowan opened up the accelerator.
A thrill shot through Louanne, as the engine roared and the bike raced down the road, kicking up dust, racing the wind. And for the first time in what seemed like forever, her worries couldn’t seem to keep up.
She didn’t know how long they’d ridden, how long she’d clung to Rowan, leaving her cares behind. Not long enough, she suspected. But when they reached the fork in the road that led to Cottonwood Creek, she raised her arm and pointed out the route she wanted him to take.
He nodded, then drove to the lake that fed the meandering stream Louanne and Lula had always hiked along. He must have been impressed with the tranquil spot, too, because he eased the Harley to a halt near a field of wildflowers and cut the engine.
A lonely whippoorwill called in the trees, where dappled sunlight spotted the ground. Louanne climbed from the bike, and Rowan followed her lead. She paused along the shady shoreline, enjoying the natural beauty, the warmth of the sun, the earthy scent, the twitter of birds in the trees.
A sense of expectation settled around her as Rowan took her hand in his. She ought to pull away, but she threaded her fingers through his instead, wanting this moment to last.
Whether it was the lingering endorphins from the exhilarating ride that had momentarily freed her soul, the natural beauty of the Texas countryside, the attractive man who set her heart on end or a powerful combination of all three, she couldn’t be sure.
But either way, when Rowan turned and caught her eye, desire flared and her common sense bit the dust. As though having a mind of its own, her hand wrapped around his neck, and she pulled his mouth to hers.
Their hands and lips seemed to know exactly where they’d left off, and the kiss grew hungry, but controlled—as though they were lovers who had all the time in the world to explore, to caress, to pleasure each other over and over again.
The kiss was magical, as well as arousing. And Louanne lost herself in Rowan’s embrace, in his musky scent, in his tantalizing taste.
Had she ever wanted to throw caution to the wind before? Let her passion rule her mind and her heart? Make love in the grass with a devilishly good-looking man who had the eyes of an angel and an arousing touch that drove her wild?
But all good things came to an end, or at least they did in Louanne’s life.
This time, Rowan was the one to break the connection. He caught her jaw in his hand, circled a thumb on her cheek, snagged her attention with a sky-blue gaze that was clouded with heat and desire.
There was nothing Rowan wanted more than to lay Louanne down in a field of grass and make love to her in the light of day. He knew where the kiss had been heading, where their thoughts had drifted. Where their shared desire would lead. And he remembered what she’d said last night.
Had she changed her mind? Was she now willing to complicate their relationship? Risk taking things to a deeper, more committed level?
It wasn’t just her own life she had to think about. She was a mother. And every decision she made would affect the life of her child.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, giving her an out, yet hoping she wouldn’t take it.
“I’m sure about wanting to make love with you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone before.” Her eyes sought his, conveying a silent reluctance, as she bit down on her bottom lip. “But it still isn’t right. And I’m afraid it might never be.”
Rowan nodded, then drew away. His arms hung loosely at his sides. Empty. But what else was new? His mind had been empty for days.
“Thank you for understanding.”
He supposed that called for a “you’re welcome,” but the words wouldn’t form. He didn’t feel particularly gracious, so he didn’t deserve her thanks. Instead, he smiled wryly. “My memory is still out of my reach, but I have a feeling being noble and understanding isn’t in my nature.”
“Maybe not, but you have no idea how much I appreciate the fact that you’re honoring my reluctance.” She brushed a light kiss upon his cheek. “Are you ready to go?”
No, he
wasn’t. He wanted to stay out here in the Texas countryside, making love until the sun set. But he nodded in acquiescence.
Then she turned toward the parked motorcycle, putting an end to their wild escape from reality.
A baby cried, filling the darkened bedroom and jerking Rowan from a sound sleep.
Noah.
Was something wrong? Where was Louanne? Hadn’t she heard the little guy?
Rowan threw off the covers, climbed from bed and slipped into a pair of pants. Then he followed the cries to the living room, where Louanne, her hair tousled from sleep, held the fussing baby in her arms, rocking back and forth on the sofa.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, feeling helpless.
“His tooth is bothering him.” Louanne continued her movements. “I’m sorry we woke you.”
“Don’t be.” He raked a hand through his hair and studied the pretty mother in a worn cotton gown, finding himself even more drawn to her, more attracted. And interestingly enough, seeing her maternal side only seemed to deepen her appeal.
How did she know what was bothering Noah? The kid couldn’t talk. Maybe his stomach hurt. Or he’d had a bad dream.
“What makes you think that he has a toothache?” Rowan asked.
Louanne smiled as though she’d gotten the punch line of a joke and he hadn’t. “That’s not it. He’s teething. And I can tell it hurts because the gums are red and puffy on the bottom left side.”
That made sense. He realized there was a lot he didn’t know about babies. What kind of a dad would he make, if he couldn’t figure out what end of a baby was up?
But then again, maybe Noah’s own father wouldn’t have been any better at this stuff than Rowan was.
The baby nestled against his mother’s breast, his cries easing some. At times like this, Louanne must miss not having a man around to share the parental load.
“Do you ever wish Noah’s dad was around to help out?” Rowan asked.
The motherly expression froze, and she lifted her gaze from the baby boy in her arms. “No. I don’t. He’s not a nice man. And he wouldn’t have made a good husband or a father.”
