“Ah.”
“I didn’t think she would react so strongly tonight.” He grimaced. “Usually there’s a honeymoon period before she starts vetting my female companions.”
“Aren’t you kind of old to have your mommy picking out your lovers?”
He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead where a headache hammered. “You would think so, yes.”
Abby cocked her head and gave him a steady stare that made him want to fidget. “I’m sure we should get back inside,” she said. “I don’t want to be rude.”
“Why not? My family certainly hasn’t been kind to you this evening.”
“That’s not entirely true. Denise and Ernie and the baby were pleasant. Your dad’s a peach. And to be honest, your mother wasn’t technically rude to me. In fact, you’re the one who set this train wreck in motion.”
He curled a strand of her hair around his finger. “I’ll make it up to you, Abs, I swear. You look beautiful tonight by the way.” His throat tightened as his body hardened. Her scent, something light and floral, teased his nostrils. “Are you wearing anything under that spectacular dress? I’ve been wondering all evening.”
When she rested her cheek against his chest, his heart bumped against his rib cage. “That’s on a need-to-know basis.”
He held Abby close, linking both arms around her bare back, resting his chin on top of her head, feeling her slender body and feminine curves nestled against his flatter, harder frame. “I need to know,” he said huskily. “Really, I do.”
“Feel free to explore,” she whispered.
It was a dangerous game they played. But he was counting on his family’s guilt to give him a few moments of privacy.
Slowly, he gathered Abby’s skirt in two hands, pulling it upward until his fingers brushed her bare ass. Well, not entirely bare. She wore a tiny, lacy pair of panties that barely merited a mention.
His mouth went dry. He stroked her butt cheeks, feeling the smooth skin and taut flesh. As caresses went, it was mostly innocent. He didn’t trespass anywhere he shouldn’t. “That answers half the question,” he groaned, wondering why the hell he had started this adventure with his whole damn family close at hand.
Abby slid her arms around his neck and looked up at him with a tiny smile on her face, one that mocked his handling of the evening. “You could kiss me,” she said.
The last time they were together, he had been driven by hunger and adrenaline. Tonight, he was no less hungry, but he had more control. He kissed her deeply, holding her chin with two fingers and tracing the seam of her lips with his tongue, giving her passion wrapped in tenderness.
The kiss could have stayed that way, but Abby groaned and went up on her tiptoes to take what she wanted, reminding him that she was no shrinking violet waiting for him to direct her. She was passionate and needy and generous with her kisses.
His head swam. Though the hour was late, the humid air made his body damp and hot. He wanted to strip her naked and swim with her nude.
That image broke the last ounce of control he had over his baser impulses. “God, Abby.” He dragged her closer still and ravaged her mouth. Sliding one hand beneath the top of her dress, he found a bare breast. The soft skin and pert tip were a fascinating contrast.
He was rapidly reaching a point of no return. With a muttered curse, he released her and stepped back. “Did I ruin your lipstick?”
“I’m not wearing any.” She reached in her pocket and pulled out a clear lip gloss, using it to soothe lips that were puffy from his kisses.
Carter winnowed his fingers through her hair, tidying away the look of passion. “We have to go back in. They won’t leave until we do.”
“Okay.”
He couldn’t blame her for the lack of enthusiasm. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable tonight. It won’t happen again, I swear.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
As he started to open the door, she tugged on his arm. “One more thing. I haven’t talked to you since I interviewed Billy Holmes.”
His hackles went up. “What did he do?” Something in her voice made him wonder if there had been an incident.
“Not a thing. He was a perfect gentleman. But at the end of our meeting, I told him the rumor I had overheard...about the missing money.”
“Oh, geez, Abby. I told you not to poke around in that. Was he angry?”
“Actually, he said it was true.”
The smug look on her face didn’t even bother Carter. He was too stunned. “You can’t be serious.”
“The camera was off. He lowered his voice and said it was a family matter, and that it was being handled.”
Carter shook his head slowly. “I have a bad feeling about this. Who on the committee is handling the actual money part of the festival?”
“Asher, I think. But he’s rich. Why would he need to skim funds?”
“I don’t like you messing around in this, Abby. People get squirrelly when money is involved. You could be getting yourself into a dangerous situation.”
“Or,” she said, excitement lighting her face, “I could have found the focus for my documentary. An exposé. It doesn’t get better than that!”
He ground his jaw. “Promise me you will let this go.” He didn’t want to quarrel with her, but he was certain his fears were well-founded.
Abby frowned at him. “Why are you so angry?”
“I’m not angry,” he bit out. “I’m aggravated.” And it was true. His feelings about Abby and his family and the festival coalesced into a fiery ball of sexual frustration that churned in his gut.
Carter yanked her close, lifting her off her feet and kissing her again. He held her tightly, relieved when she wrapped her legs around his thighs. “You drive me nuts, Abby.” Didn’t she know how vulnerable she was?
He wanted her in his bed. Now. Naked and needy. He wanted that more than anything in the whole world.
Abby patted his cheek and kissed his forehead. “We have to go inside. Remember? Your family?”
“Hell.” She was right. “Tell me you brought an overnight bag.”
“That wasn’t part of the invitation.”
“Abby...” He was at the end of whatever stores of patience he had accumulated.
She slid down his body and stepped away, gathering her sweater and smoothing her hair again. “I did,” she said quietly. “But I’m not sure why.”
“Don’t lie to me, Abs. Or to yourself. We may not be a match made in heaven, but between the sheets we’re dynamite.”
He took her by the hand and dragged her inside. They found his family gathered in the room where Abby had interviewed Carter earlier that week.
The four adults were seated around a card table playing a game. Denise and Ernie had apparently decided to linger, given the drama that had transpired. The baby snoozed on a pallet on the floor.
Denise was the first to notice them. “There you are,” she said, smiling. “Would you like us to deal you in?”
Carter managed not to cringe, though he could think of nothing more dreadful. “No, thanks,” he said, his tone mild. “You guys finish your game. Abby and I will hang out. Or maybe have more dessert.”
Cynthia Crane stood and approached them with a contrite expression on her face. “I’m sorry you overheard our conversation, dear.”
Abby didn’t smile. “But you’re not sorry you questioned my presence here tonight.”
Wow. Carter wanted to high-five somebody. Abby Carmichael had just put his mother in her place.
The older woman narrowed her eyes. “I love my son. It’s normal for a mother to want the best for her children. That said, Carter is free to invite whomever he likes to his home. I’m glad I met you, Abby. You are a very interesting woman.”
There was a collective exhale in the room w
hen Cynthia returned to the game and left Carter and Abby to entertain themselves.
Half an hour later, the house was finally quiet. Carter shot Abby a wry glance. “Now you see why we built the guest cottage.”
“I do,” Abby said. But her laugh sounded forced.
“You okay?” He lifted her chin with a finger, looking deep into those dark brown eyes surrounded by thick inky lashes.
Abby stepped away, breaking the small contact. “I’m fine, Carter. Really. But I think I’ll head back to town. Your family wants to spend time with you. It feels weird to be sneaking around.”
“We’re not sneaking,” he protested. “We’re two grown adults. I want you to stay the night.” Her reluctance dented his mood.
She flipped her hair over her shoulder, unwittingly drawing his attention to the spot where her throat met her collarbone, a spot he would like to nibble. Soon.
“They’ll be coming over for breakfast, right?”
“Not if I tell Denise to keep them away.”
“Oh, Carter. This is complicated. I don’t want to get in the way of you enjoying your family. You told me they don’t visit all that often.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the door frame. “If you don’t want to stay, just say so.”
“I do want to stay.” She played with her earring, pacing the confines of his living room. “But I don’t want them to know I stayed.”
“Well, that’s easy. I’ll set an alarm for seven. You can be on your way, and I’ll pretend I slept alone. Although it’s really nobody’s damn business.”
Humor lit her face. “As weird as this evening was, I do like your family.”
He ducked and looked over his shoulder.
She frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Waiting for the lightning to strike. That’s usually what I do when somebody tells a whopper. You can’t honestly say you like my mother.”
She scrunched up her face. “Maybe like is the wrong word. But she brought you into this world, so she can’t be all bad.”
His shoulders loosened, and he crossed the room to take her hands in his. “I’ve been wanting to get you out of this dress for hours. Swim first? Or straight to the main event?”
* * *
Abby realized that the window for changing her mind was over. Actually, as soon as she admitted she had an overnight case in her car, the course of the evening was set. Carter wanted her here, and she wanted to be here. In the end, nothing else mattered.
She snuggled up to his chest, sliding her arms around his waist. “We can swim later. Isn’t there a full moon tonight? For now, I’m more than happy to see your bedroom again.”
Abby realized a couple of things in the next hour. First, Carter was far less serious than the face he showed to the world. Beneath that mantle of responsibility was a man who liked to play.
And second, he knew way too much about how to pleasure a woman. The man made an art form out of removing her dress. He did it so slowly and with so much sensual heat, she was ready to dissolve into a puddle of lust by the time he had stripped her down to her panties.
They took a quick shower together, one that involved lots of soap and teasing. Then they dried off and returned to the bedroom.
Abby was less self-conscious now, more willing to let her gaze linger on Carter’s aroused sex. He was a stud. No question. A very masculine man with the body of someone who did physical labor. If she were a sculptor, she would carve him, every sinew and muscle.
He scooped her up in his arms and nuzzled his nose against hers. “You cold?”
Her heart beat faster. “Not at all. Make love to me, Carter.”
His face flushed with heat. “Whatever the lady wants.”
For a split second, she wished she had used a different phrase. There was no love between them. How could there be? She didn’t believe in love at first sight, and besides, these feelings she had were physical, not emotional. Carter made her body sing.
He didn’t give her time for second-guessing. Soon, he worshipped her, kissing from earlobes and eyelids to the throbbing spot at her center, making her squirm. She was close to coming already. She’d been aching for him since that moment when she had slipped out of this bed like a thief in the night.
“Now...” she begged.
He left her for mere seconds to take care of protection and came back to shift her thighs apart and thrust deep. The noise he made was half groan, half curse.
She understood what he didn’t say. This was beyond words. He filled her completely, his hard sex claiming everything she offered willingly. Their joining was something more than the two of them slaking a sexual thirst. Rather, it was the kind of chemical reaction that fizzed and sparked and boiled over.
Because it was hot and urgent and not to be denied, Abby was swept up in a wave of sheer bliss. How insanely wonderful could a moment be? How perfect...
Carter surrounded her, aroused her and, paradoxically, protected her.
When her orgasm yanked her up and threw her into the abyss, she felt limp with joy, sated with pleasure.
In the aftermath, he pulled her against his side. She stretched one leg across his thighs and pillowed her cheek on his chest.
Abby wasn’t asleep, and she wasn’t 100 percent awake. She floated, wallowing in the seductive feeling of invincibility.
Carter played with her hair, his breath warm on the top of her head. “I can’t feel my legs,” he complained.
She pinched his upper thigh, hard enough to bruise. “I can.”
“Brat.”
“Bossy, arrogant rancher.”
His raspy chuckle made her feel happy and warm. In Carter’s embrace, she felt like herself. With the few other men she had let into her life on a sexual basis, she had always held something back, wary of being judged.
In this bed, with this man, her world was complete.
And that was scary as hell.
Finally, she lifted up on one elbow and smiled at him. “I’m not sleepy. Can we take a glass of wine out by the pool and enjoy the moonlight?”
His gaze was hooded, his hair mussed. “Of course, beautiful. But don’t get dressed. We might take a dip. There’s no one around to peek.”
He gave her a robe out of his closet, a hotel-style garment that was soft and plush and smelled faintly of Carter’s aftershave. For himself, he grabbed a towel and tucked it around his waist.
In the kitchen, he didn’t bother with the overhead light as he gathered glasses and a corkscrew. Abby was glad. These minutes felt precious and private. She wanted to preserve this bubble of intimacy, to savor every moment of it.
Outside, the moon shone down serenely, illuminating the pool and chasing away shadows. They settled onto cushioned lounge chairs. Carter opened the wine and poured. When he clinked his glass against hers, he smiled. “To new friends. And beautiful cinematographers. I’m glad you stayed.”
Abby wanted to say something nice in return, but her throat was tight, and her thoughts were all jumbled. Instead, she sipped her wine and wiggled her toes, feeling the peace of the summer night wash over her.
Beside her, Carter resembled a large, lazy jungle cat. His body was completely relaxed. So much so that it took her by surprise when he spoke.
“I want to see you again, Abby.”
He laid it out there. No games.
“Your family is here all week, right?”
“Yes,” he said. “But they don’t bite.”
“I’m not your girlfriend, Carter. It would be different if I were. You need to spend quality time with them. Besides, I have several more interviews lined up this week. I’ll be busy.”
Turning toward her, he pinned her with his blue gaze. “The weekend, then?”
“I’m flying out to LA on Friday. My father is going to help me begin to piece tog
ether my story. He’s great at editing.”
“When will you be back?” he asked.
“Midweek probably,” she replied. “I’m bringing some camping gear then. Since there isn’t any public lodging on Appaloosa Island, I have to find a way to spend the night and get those magical early morning shots. Camping is the best solution. If I can get permission.”
“And after that?”
“I’ll probably go home to New York, regroup and come back to Royal right before the festival starts.”
“I see.” He paused. “It sounds like you consider New York home, and not California. Is that true?”
“Yes. My mother wanted my school years to be uninterrupted. But summers and holidays were a roll of the dice.” Abby raised the wineglass to her lips and took a sip. “Neither she nor my father meant to make me feel bad, but there was always an unspoken tug-of-war. I think that’s when travel started to appeal to me. I could go where I wanted, when I wanted, without having to answer to anyone.”
“Makes sense.”
“I haven’t told you much about my parents,” she said quietly. “They still care about each other, even after all these years apart.”
“Why did they split in the first place?” he asked curiously.
“Because their lives were too different. Once they got past the wild rush of falling in love and having me, the reality of day-to-day life didn’t work.” She shrugged. “My mom couldn’t conceive of leaving New York. But my dad dreamed of becoming a filmmaker and needed the flexibility to go where the opportunities arose. Having a wife and a little baby held him back. Ultimately, my mother set him free to be who he was meant to be. And she found happiness and fulfillment on her own.”
“Is this the part where I’m supposed to see the parallels? If so, I’m not convinced.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I don’t give a damn about the future right now. But I want to be with you, Abby.”
The lump in her throat grew painfully. “I want to be with you, too.”
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