“I hope so.”
“It’s amazing how you took one look at this pond and poof.” She snapped her fingers. “A boyhood recollection reappeared. I wonder what else you can remember by experiencing something similar.”
“I wouldn’t mind remembering how it felt to lie down under the blue sky and kiss a beautiful woman.”
She caught his gaze, and her smile faded. “Is that something you’ve experienced before?”
“I don’t know. Come a little closer and help me find out.”
He’d just been testing her, teasing her. But when she smiled, he turned to his side, reached for her and...just let nature take its course.
Chapter Nine
Chloe had no business kissing Joe again, but as those amazing blue eyes reached deep inside of her, as his arms slipped around her and he drew her close, she couldn’t help leaning toward him and just...letting go.
She expected the kiss to start slowly—much like the first one had. But the moment their lips met, hers parted, and the kiss exploded with passion.
As their tongues touched, twisting and mating, their hands stroked, explored, caressed.
She knew she should pull back and stop things before they got out of hand, but it had been so long since she’d lost herself in a man’s arms, in his kiss.
Then again, her only experience had never been like this. Before she was blinded by a haze of lust and found herself making love outdoors, she drew her mouth from his. She meant to explain her reason for stopping, but she didn’t dare say a word until her breathing slowed to a normal rate and her heart stopped pounding.
“That was some kiss,” he said.
It certainly was.
“I don’t mean to be a tease,” she finally said, “but I don’t think we should jump into anything.”
He ran his knuckles along her cheek. “Because of my amnesia?”
That was one reason to be cautious. She hardly knew the man as it was. And while her heart—not to mention, her body—seemed to insist it didn’t matter, that she could easily fall for him anyway, she had to be reasonable.
“Don’t you think we should take things slow until your memory returns?” she said.
“Probably.”
She bit down on her bottom lip, pondering how much to share with him about the mistake she’d made, but there was a part of her that didn’t want him to think she was flighty or that she didn’t have any morals.
“I made a bad choice once, and I told myself I’d be more careful next time.”
“What happened?”
She really hadn’t told anyone before, other than Teresa, but it seemed as though Joe deserved an explanation. “I was lonely and got caught up in a relationship that wasn’t right for me.”
She’d met Mark Foster her first semester at the junior college in Wexler. She hadn’t had a chance to make any friends in town yet, and he’d been funny and charming. She’d been flattered by his interest in her, thinking that he actually cared for her.
He’d pursued her, coming on pretty strong, and she hadn’t been experienced in the ways of the world. She should have taken the time to think things through, to get to know his true character, but she hadn’t. He’d taken advantage of her naivety by taking her out to an expensive dinner in Wexler, pulling out all the romantic stops and plying her with enough champagne to make her head spin.
She’d never in a million years thought that she’d have sex in the back of a car—especially her first time. She’d cried afterward. And then she’d gotten sick. The whole thing was a disappointing and embarrassing experience she’d like to forget.
Apparently, Mark had more luck at forgetting than she had. He never called her again, while she couldn’t get that awful night out of her mind.
“So what did he do to you?” Joe asked. “Did he break your heart?”
No, it was her self-respect that had suffered the most, which was why Chloe had never shared the embarrassing details with anyone.
“My heart was a little bruised,” she said, “but not broken. Let’s just say that things didn’t work out the way I’d hoped.”
She’d learned a hard lesson that night, one that didn’t need repeating. From then on, she’d resolved not to drink on a date and not to have sex with someone she didn’t love—or barely knew.
And even though she felt as though she could fall for Joe, he had amnesia, and she didn’t know any more about him than he knew about himself.
* * *
After that heated kiss by the pond earlier that afternoon, Joe had been careful to respect Chloe’s wishes, even though it had taken every ounce of his resolve to put some distance between them once he’d come in for dinner.
He was bone tired after a hard day’s work, and the hot shower he’d taken upon entering the house had refreshed him only enough to eat the chicken and roasted potatoes Chloe had made for dinner. When his eyes began drifting closed at the table, his little Florence Nightingale returned and ordered him to bed.
Within minutes of his head hitting the pillow, he’d fallen into a deep sleep, and his dreams took him far away from horses and watering holes, from two laughing boys and an irate rancher.
As Dave’s father’s words grew dim, the vision’s backdrop shifted from a green and fertile Texas ranch to a dry and dusty urban war zone in Afghanistan, where bullets flew and mortar boomed...
Three or four Taliban insurgents carrying assault rifles and strategically hiding in an abandoned apartment building fired on Joe and his men. And they took cover behind an overturned minibus.
“Hold your positions,” Joe commanded.
His communications specialist had radioed for backup. He just needed to keep his troops in cover position a few more seconds until reinforcement arrived.
The metal tracks of the cavalry tank sounded, just a short distance away, providing a sense of relief. But the corporal beside him fidgeted with his rifle, clearly on edge from more than just the gunshots around them.
“I can’t take this no more,” the corporal said, tears streaming down his face. “If she doesn’t want me, then what do I have left?”
“Hold tight, buddy. The armored tanks are almost—”
Before Joe could finish his order, the young marine was up and running, revealing their hiding position and exposing the other members of their patrol squad.
“Fall back, Dave. Fall back!” Joe screamed. But the hotheaded corporal didn’t listen. Instead, he charged toward the snipers, spraying bullets at no target in particular.
Dave only had so many rounds, and when he emptied his rifle, he’d be a sitting duck. As the squad commander, Joe was responsible for all of his men, even those who were hell-bent on disobeying direct orders and compromising the safety of fellow marines.
“I’m going after Corporal Cummings,” Joe told the man beside him. “Cover me, but don’t move until the armored vehicles set up a blockade. On three...”
Joe ran out to Dave, grabbed the crazed man by his pack and pulled his body back toward the safety of the minibus. But his friend swung his rifle around, clocking Joe in the face, allowing the snipers above them to get a free shot.
Dave, weighted down by his full gear and a rage of helplessness, fell onto Joe just as the first lumbering Humvee pulled in front of them. But not before Joe’s knee exploded.
“Dammit,” Joe yelled. “I told you to fall back, Dave.”
A tap on his shoulder, followed by a gentle hand tugging at him, drew him out of the gunfire, the dust and the heat.
“Joe, wake up. You’re having another nightmare.”
At the sound of Chloe’s voice, he almost lurched out of bed, determined to dive over her body and protect her from enemy fire. But her calming strokes along his biceps told him that she was real, not just a figment of his nocturnal imagina
tion.
“Here,” she said, “have some water.”
He sat up, letting the sheet drop to his waist, and took a deep drink from the glass she offered him.
“Sorry for being such a...” What? A head case? A nut job? He shook his head and sighed. “I’m sorry for waking you up. Again.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, her words coming out softly, soothing him.
Just having Chloe near helped. His racing pulse slowed, but his pounding heart wasn’t so quick to respond.
“You went through a traumatic ordeal,” she said, “and it’s only natural that you’d dream about it.”
Was she talking about the accident that had robbed him of his memory? Or the battle he’d just relived in his sleep?
He let out a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair before taking another gulp of water.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” she asked as her fingers continued their soothing caress along his upper arm.
She was wearing a thin cotton nightgown, the hem barely reaching her thighs when she sat beside him on the bed. She meant to comfort him, no doubt, but his decelerating heartbeat leaped back into action, quickening its tempo.
He’d tried so hard to be a gentleman earlier tonight. To keep his distance so he wouldn’t be tempted to pull her into his arms for another heated kiss like the one they’d shared on that picnic blanket.
In the dim light filtering in from the hallway, he could see her expression and realized it was one of concern, not lust. So he didn’t dare meet her eyes. Not when his thoughts had shifted from the war zone to the bedroom.
He lowered his gaze to her chest, where the clinging cotton gown she wore couldn’t hide her rounded breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and as her arm moved up and down so she could rub his biceps, he could see the outline of her dusky nipples with each movement.
“Another dream?” she asked.
“It was the same as before, only more detailed. I think it was a memory of the battle I read about in Danielson’s report.”
Her hand shifted from his side to his back, and with each stroke of her fingers along his spine, his arousal grew. If he couldn’t get his hormones under control, he’d have to get her off his bed and out the door before he did something they’d both regret later.
Amnesia or not, he was still a man. And if she kept touching his bare skin like that...
“I’m okay now,” he said. “Go on back to bed. You need your rest, too.”
“You’re still shivering. I’m not going to leave until your body settles down.”
Oh, yeah? If she kept stroking him like that, taunting him, his body would never calm down. He wasn’t shivering because of his nightmare. Just looking at her tousled hair and sleepy eyes had riled him up.
Unable to take it anymore, he grabbed her hand, his fingers circling her wrist.
Her mouth opened slightly in surprise, but she didn’t try to pull away.
“Listen, Chloe. If you don’t get back to your room right this second, I’m going to do a lot more than kiss you.”
The pulse in her wrist quickened, and her eyes dropped to the sheet barely covering his lap. His arousal had to be obvious.
She raised her gaze to his, but she didn’t make a move to leave.
He continued to hold her wrist, his thumb tracing slow circles on her skin. Their gazes met and locked. He lifted his free hand and cupped her jaw. Yet she didn’t seem to be the least bit worried about what might happen if she continued to stay with him.
He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers—gently, just in case she came to her senses and decided to pull away.
Instead, she opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to explore her warm depths. She pressed in, her own tongue matching his with equal fervor. He pulled her closer, her breasts splayed against his bare torso.
He was tempted to tear the thin fabric so he could feel all of her warm fragrant skin against his. He needed the intimacy, the closeness of another person.
No, not just any person. He needed Chloe.
He drew back slightly, trying to read her expression, to gauge her thoughts.
Her eyes, glazed with passion, searched his face, too, as if trying to assess what he might be thinking, feeling.
“Are you sure?” he whispered, loud enough to appease his conscience, yet soft enough for her to realize she had the power to slow things down or bring them to a complete halt.
She reached for the back of his neck, drew his mouth to hers and whispered against his lips, “I’m sure.”
They kissed again, long and deep. As his hands slid along the bare curve of her back and down the slope of her hips, a surge of desire shot clean through him. He lifted the hem of her nightgown and removed the barrier before laying her down beside him.
He paused a moment to drink in the angelic sight of pretty Chloe, lying on his bed. Her throat flushed, her lips plump from their kisses.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
A slow smile stretched across her lips. “So are you.”
He didn’t know about that. He was beat up from a hard day’s work and scarred from battle—and who knew what else. But her words pleased him.
Her nails skimmed across his chest, sending a shimmy of heat through his blood, and he kissed her again until they were both drowning in need.
She pulled her lips from his, yet she continued to hold him. “I want to feel you inside me, Joe.”
Words he’d been hoping—maybe longing—to hear.
As she opened for him, he entered her. She raised her hips to meet him, and their bodies became one, taking and giving.
As they both reached a peak, he released with her, and their climax set off a sexual explosion that left him seeing stars.
The night stood still, and nothing mattered but the two of them and what they’d just experienced in each other’s arms. That is, until reality settled over him.
He had nothing to offer her. At least, not until his memory returned. So he hoped she wouldn’t consider this another mistake she’d made, or him to be another bad choice.
While he was tempted to tell her that she was safe with him, another more pressing, more daunting reality slammed into him.
He’d been so caught up in desire that he’d neglected to even consider using any means of protection.
Did he dare mention that to her? Had the thought even crossed her mind?
He stroked the length of her arm, then took her hand in his. “As nice as that was, as much as I enjoyed it, we got a little carried away. We didn’t use any protection.”
“I know,” she said a bit breathlessly. “I just realized that.”
He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “I’m not an irresponsible lover. It’s just that...”
“I know,” she said again. Then she smiled. “I don’t think we have to worry about pregnancy. It’s not the right time of the month. But we’ll need to plan ahead next time.”
Thank goodness. He was relieved that she wasn’t too worried. And glad that she’d said “next time.”
He blew out the breath he’d been holding, then drew her close, wrapping his arms around her.
Still, his momentary relief and gladness couldn’t block out the regret that began to settle over him.
His body was in the most relaxed state of bliss it had been in as long as he could...well, at least since he woke up in that hospital bed. But his mind was still reeling. And the dream Chloe’s presence had chased away thirty minutes ago came back to haunt him once again.
In that nocturnal window to the past, Dave had been talking about a woman right before he’d made a suicidal run straight into enemy fire. A woman Joe suspected was Chloe.
If she doesn’t want me, then what do I have left?
H
ad Dave really said that? Or was Joe’s spotty recollection once again playing tricks on him?
What exactly had been between Chloe and Dave? She said they were only family friends, but what if Dave had believed they were more than that?
The woman dozing softly beside him felt perfect in his arms. But nothing else felt right. Not even his name. Who in the hell was Joe Wilcox? And what was he doing on the Cummings ranch, living Dave’s life?
Joe was staying in the man’s house, sleeping in his bed, riding his horse. Had he just slept with Dave’s lover, the blonde who’d driven him to risk death over life without her?
If so, Joe had no right to any of it.
* * *
As Chloe stretched her arms over her head, she listened to the sound of running water coming from the bathroom down the hall.
She should be mortified that she’d woken up naked in Joe’s bed, but thinking about the way he’d brought her body to life last night, she felt nothing but contentment.
Still, she couldn’t just lay here and bask in the memory. She should get up and get dressed before Tomas arrived for work.
Instead, she pulled the sheet tighter around her and snuggled deeper into the mattress.
Why didn’t she feel any remorse for her behavior last night? For enjoying their lovemaking so much that she was hoping Joe would get out of the shower and come back to bed?
When she’d hurried into his room to waken him from his nightmare, he’d given her several opportunities to leave. Yet, despite what her mind had told her, she hadn’t been able to get her traitorous body to follow suit.
She had no job and, once the attorney started probate on the ranch, she would have no home. In short, she had absolutely no future. On top of that, she had no idea who Joe really was or where he’d be going once he regained his memory.
So then why was she smiling and frolicking with a stranger in bed as though she had nothing to lose?
The sound of an approaching pickup—the foreman, no doubt—reminded her that there was work to be done today. And that she still had a reputation to uphold, even if her stay on the Rocking C was only temporary.
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