by Lisa Jackson
She reached for his reins, but Dallas caught up with her and gently grabbed her wrist. “I’ve been accused of being blunt,” he admitted. “Too blunt.”
“Well, at least you don’t leave me guessing.” She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened, and slowly he tugged, forcing her to face him.
“It’s just that I want you,” he said. “I want you so much, I can’t think of anything else. I ache for you at night, embarrass myself during the day when I start to think of you. I’ve tried to fight it—hell, I had myself convinced that I didn’t want, didn’t need, a woman. And I was right. I don’t need just any woman, Chandra. I need you.”
Her heart turned over, and she felt the pads of his fingers, warm and smooth against the inside of her forearm. Her heart nearly stopped as she dropped the reins and stared into eyes the color of a mountain sky.
“You want me, too.” He placed the flat of his free hand over her heart, his fingertips skimming her bare skin, his palm resting over the neckline of her blouse, seeming to press against her breast.
Her heartbeat quickened, and her breath, unsteady to begin with, came in quick bursts through her lips.
“W-wanting isn’t enough,” she said.
“It was enough on the rafting trip.” He kissed the side of her neck then, and her throat constricted. Somewhere she heard a dog barking and the jingle of a bridle, but those sounds were in the distance, and now she heard only the rapid tattoo of her heart and the rasp of air through her lungs.
Dallas pulled her blouse down over one shoulder and placed his lips against her skin. An endless ache started at the apex of her legs and moved slowly upward.
The fingers surrounding her wrist pulled gently, insistently, forcing her to follow him to the ground, and she didn’t resist, fell willingly against him, their arms and legs entwining, his body wedged between hers and the bent grass.
He moved his mouth over hers, fiercely, possessively, until it seemed that the fever in his blood had ignited all her senses. She felt the pressure of his tongue, the urgency in his hands, the hot, throbbing desire that blossomed inside her.
He pulled her blouse from the waistband of her skirt and slowly ran his hands over her ribs, moving upward, brushing the lace of her bra. She moaned into his mouth as his thumb skimmed against her already taut nipple.
“Dallas,” she whispered as he unbuttoned her blouse and the cool mountain air caressed her skin. He shoved the blouse aside, and then with her above him, craned his neck so that his lips touched her bra and the lace-encased nipple. She writhed, and he pulled her downward, one hand splayed against the bare skin of her back, the other tangled in her hair. He kissed and teased her through the lace, his tongue wet and wonderful in delicious ministrations that caused her to convulse.
“Please, please, please…” she moaned, and he groaned against her flesh, unhooking the bra and letting her breasts fall free, unbound, above him. He took one eagerly into his waiting mouth, suckling hungrily, his tongue and teeth pulling and tugging, creating a whirlpool of warmth deep within her body.
She found the buttons of his shirt and quickly dispensed with them, pushing the white fabric over corded shoulders that flexed, strong and sinewy against her fingers. She arched against him as the shirt was discarded, and her breasts felt the rough hairs of his chest when he lifted his head to stare up at her eyes.
“Chandra,” he whispered, his voice rough and pleading, his hands smoothing her back, exploring the cleft of her spine. “You’re so gorgeous,” he whispered, moving his gaze from her eyes and past her parted lips to her breasts, white and firm, floating above him, enticing him to delirious heights of sexuality.
Never had he felt so free, so anxious, so aroused. His lust was like a living, breathing creature he couldn’t control.
With his hand, he sculpted her, teasing the hard nipples and kneading the warm flesh of her breast. Shockwave after delicious shockwave spread through him, and she responded by throwing her head back, her luxurious mane of golden hair falling over her shoulders and back. He didn’t stop. Couldn’t. He fastened his mouth over her nipple again and slowly slid his hand beneath the waistband of her skirt, skimming her abdomen and reaching lower still.
Sweat broke out on her body, and though he relieved her of her skirt and panties, a dewy sheen covered her body as he continued to touch her, kiss her, caress her.
She found herself helping him with his jeans, and he kicked them off, then lay under her, wanting to delve into her and never stop. When he firmly grasped one buttock, she pressed herself hard against him.
“Make love to me, Chandra,” he whispered into her hair. “For now and forever, make love to me.”
She closed her eyes and swallowed as he ran one finger down the hollow of her breasts, down past her navel and farther still, until she bucked above him, and he reacted, capturing her lips in his and rolling her over in one quick motion. As he stared down into her eyes, he parted her legs with his knees and hesitated, seeing the trust in her gaze, knowing that she was envisioning a future together.
“Oh, Chandra,” he whispered. “I want you….” And in that moment, he knew that life would never be the same. He’d planned all this, to the very seduction. A man of medicine, he never lost his cool, but with this woman, he could very well lose his equilibrium forever. Trying to stay rational, he reached in the grass for his jeans, dug into the pocket for a condom in his wallet. Muttering in frustration, he held up the packet for her to inspect, as if in so doing, they could stop this madness before it went any further.
But it was too late; the bridge had been crossed. A shadow of doubt crossed her eyes for just one second. “Don’t stop,” she said, as if certain he would deny her. Quickly, he readied himself. She trembled as he brushed the hair from her eyes, and in that moment when their gazes crossed a chasm of doubt, he entered her, in one swift thrust of warmth and need. A hard, primal sound escaped his throat, and he moved, slowly at first, feeling all of her, still aware of her fingertips featherlight against his shoulders, her mouth yielding softly to his.
He couldn’t stop and wouldn’t. His tempo increased, and through fleeting thoughts of satisfying her, he lost control, plunged deep and hard, whispering her name as a litany until he could hold back no longer and he erupted with a roar.
Chandra convulsed beneath him, arching her hips and receiving him with all the ferocity of his own passion. She dug her fingers deep into his shoulders and cried out, and his name echoed through the hills.
“Dallas, oh, Dallas,” she said, her throat working, tears filling the corners of her eyes.
Breathing raggedly, afterglow converging upon him, he saw the silent tracks of her tears. Pain shot through him as he realized he’d pushed himself upon her, forced her through seduction and gentle ministrations to have sex with him. Self-loathing swallowed him. “Oh, God, I’m sorry,” he said, his throat rough. He pushed her bangs from her forehead, and self-contempt edged his features. What the hell had he been thinking? “I didn’t mean to hurt you—”
“No!” She gasped, drawing in deep breaths. “You didn’t. Really. It’s…it…” She dashed her tears aside with the back of her hand. “It was wonderful. It’s just…well, it’s been so long.”
“For me, too,” he admitted, relieved that she wasn’t feeling any remorse. He took her into his arms and kissed her crown. “I’m afraid I lost control.”
Softly she sighed, and her skin flushed a beautiful pink. “You weren’t the only one.”
“You’re not mad at me for planning this?”
“I could’ve stopped it.” When he was about to protest, she shook her long blond mane. “Really, I could have. If I’d wanted to. But I didn’t.”
“No regrets?” he asked, kissing a stray tear that slid from her eye.
“None.”
Sam loped over to them. Wet from a romp in the creek, he shook himself so hard that his license and collar rattled. Chandra screeched, and Dallas, laughing, picked her up and carried her towar
d the pool of spring water.
“You wouldn’t,” she cried, eyeing the frigid water.
“Something’s got to cool us off.”
“Dallas, no—”
But he waded into the clear depths and sucking in his breath, plunged them both into the icy pond. Shrieking and laughing, Chandra sputtered upward for air, only to find his smiling face next to hers. “You’re horrid!” she cried, but laughed when he tickled her.
“Wicked. I’m wicked. Not horrid.”
“Worse than that, I think,” she said breathlessly as she struggled for the shore. He caught up with her and wrapping arms around her waist, pulled her tight against him. Wet, cold lips pressed anxiously against hers.
“You can’t get away from me,” he stated.
“Is that a challenge?” She lifted an eyebrow and eyed the shore, judging how far she would have to run should she want to prove him wrong.
“Don’t even think about it!”
That was it. With the flat of her hand, she sprayed water in his face, then, laughing, she stumbled up the creek bank, only to be caught midstride and pulled back into the water. “As I said,” he repeated, “you’ll never get away from me!” He gathered her against him, sliding her intimately against him, pressing kisses against her nape and neck.
“So who’s running?” she asked, and kissed him back. She wondered if she loved him and decided it didn’t matter. She cared about him, felt a special fondness toward him, and the passion between them was enough to satisfy her. She thought fleetingly of the future, but dismissed it. Today, for the first time in her life, she’d live for the moment.
Eventually the cold water was too much to bear and they returned to the meadow, where, after dressing, they finished the wine and ate sourdough bread, cheese, grapes and strawberries. The sun sank lower on the horizon, and shadows played across the dry grass.
Chandra lay on the blanket, picking a few wildflowers and twirling the stems between her fingers. “You said you didn’t want to get involved,” she ventured, glancing over her shoulder. Stretched out on the other side of the blanket, Dallas seemed content to stare at her.
“I didn’t. Probably still don’t. But I am.”
“What happened? I mean—that made you so afraid?”
“Afraid?” He rolled onto his back and stared at the sky, still blue as the sun sank lower in the west. “I’ve never thought of it as being afraid. Cautious, maybe. Smart, for sure, but afraid?”
She arched an eyebrow. “That’s the way I see it.”
Scowling, he sighed. “I don’t believe in reliving the past. No point to it.”
“Except when it affects the future.”
Dallas stood and dusted off his pants. He walked to the edge of the creek, where he bent down, picked up a smooth, flat stone and sent it skimming over the water to plop near the far bank as rippling circles disturbed the surface.
Chandra followed him to the shore, and, with a twinkle in her eye, picked up a flat river rock and skipped it over the water just as easily as he had. “What is it with you?” he asked, his features pulled into a look of puzzlement. “Studying to become a doctor, guiding white-water trips, backpacking and skipping stones?” He raked his gaze down her body. “For a woman with so many obvious feminine attributes, you sure like to perform like a man.”
“Compete,” she corrected. “I like to compete with men.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “I guess I’m the son my father never had. He taught me how to throw from my shoulder instead of my wrist, how to rock climb, and he gave me the confidence that I could do anything I wanted to, regardless of my sex.”
Dallas eyed her. “You were lucky.”
“I think so. My sisters were both glad that I was the chosen one and they didn’t have to do any of the tomboy stuff. I think they missed out. But we weren’t talking about me,” she reminded him.
He feigned a smile. “You remembered.”
“What happened to you?”
“It was simple, really,” he said in an offhand manner that seemed meant to belie the pain. “My folks split up when I was still in boarding school. My dad was career military, very rigid, a physician, and my mother got tired of moving around. I can’t say as I blame her, Harrison O’Rourke would’ve been hell to live with. He’s…clinical, I guess you’d say. Didn’t believe in showing his emotions, not to me or Mom. It’s amazing she stayed with him as long as she did.”
Dallas reached down and skipped another stone, and Chandra’s chest grew tight. Talking about his past was difficult for him; she could see the reluctance in his eyes, the harsh lines near his mouth. “Anyway, she remarried. Happily, I think. And ended up pregnant right away. Joanna was born a year later, and only sixteen months after that the twins came along. You met Brian.” Chandra nodded. “He has a twin sister named Brenda—she’s, uh, much more rational than he.
“So, Mom had her hands full, and I was old enough to be on my own, anyway. I finished high school and was accepted at UCLA in premed.”
To gain your father’s approval, she thought, her heart twisting for a boy who felt unwanted.
“I met the girl of my dreams before I graduated,” he said, his voice turning sarcastic. “Jennifer Smythe.”
A painful jab cut into her heart, though why it mattered, Chandra couldn’t fathom. “Why was she the girl of your dreams?”
He snorted. “She was perfect—or at least, I thought so. Beautiful, smart, clever, witty and a graduate student in law. Even though she was a few years older than I was, I thought the right thing to do was get married, so we did.”
Chandra studied his profile—so severe with the onslaught of memories.
“The marriage was mistake number one. She passed the bar exam and within a few weeks, was hired at a firm where she’d worked during the summers. It was a respectable firm, and the partners were interested in young women to balance the plethora of old men. She supported me while I finished school. Mistake number two. She always felt I owed her something.”
Dallas frowned darkly and shook his head. “This is really pretty boring stuff—”
“Not at all,” Chandra interjected, surprised that he was letting her see so deeply into his private life.
He shot her a look saying more eloquently than words that he didn’t believe her, but he continued, though reluctantly. “What I didn’t know was that Jennifer didn’t want a kid. Period. Now, she never told me this, but she was the only child of rich parents and couldn’t see tying herself down to an infant. She thought that between her career and mine, we had it made.” Sam galloped up, and Dallas reached down to scratch his ears. The old dog whined appreciatively, and Dallas had to smile.
“Eventually, I graduated and was hired at a hospital in Orange County. Even though we had a few bills, I thought this was the time to start a family, but Jennifer wasn’t interested. I should’ve let it lie, I suppose, but I wanted kids. Badly.” He cast Chandra a rueful grin. “In fact, I was obsessed. A bad trait of mine. I figured my folks didn’t do the family bit right, so I was going to be the perfect father. As if I knew the first thing about raising kids!”
His eyes darkened, and any trace of humor disappeared from his features. He shook his head, as if in disbelief at his own naïveté.
Chandra felt a whisper of dread as he continued.
“The kicker was that Jennifer did get pregnant, right about the time we were buying our first house. She never told me, of course, and had the pregnancy terminated. I only found out because of a mutual friend who knew the doctor who performed the abortion.”
Chandra swallowed hard against the outrage that burned her throat. No wonder he was so bitter. A shadow, dark and pained, crossed his eyes, and the skin around his mouth grew taut.
“That was the last straw. I stormed over to her office, and I didn’t care who heard the argument. I was furious that she wouldn’t at least have talked to me, have worked things out before she took such drastic measures. But Jennifer wasn’t the
least bit reticent, and she told me then that she would never have children. It was her body, it had nothing to do with me, and as she saw it, I shouldn’t get all worked up over it. Besides, she pointed out, I was doing well at the hospital, and I put in long hours. I didn’t need the responsibility of children to make demands on my time—not to mention hers. What did upset her was that I embarrassed her by coming into the law firm in a rage.”
Chandra placed a hand on his arm, but he didn’t seem to notice. “So that’s it. I couldn’t deal with her from that point on. I tried to tell myself that losing the baby was for the best, that being married to a doctor was difficult for any woman, that maybe Jennifer would change her mind and there would be other children. But I was kidding myself. I never forgot.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and rotated his neck, stretching his shoulder muscles. For a second, Chandra thought he’d finished, but his next words came out in a rush of disgust.
“You’d have to meet Jennifer to understand this, but she assumed everything was A-OK. She was delighted with our new lifestyle. We had money and social status and interesting careers. She was moving up in the law firm at an incredible pace. Her only real worry was that my position as an emergency-room physician wasn’t all that glamorous. She thought I had the brains and skill to become a specialist, a notch up in her estimation. I fought her on that one. I like what I do and couldn’t see giving it up.”
He rolled his eyes to the sky, now streaked with gold and pink, as if he couldn’t believe he’d been so foolish. His shoulders, which had been rigid, began to slump.
“Things got worse, of course. Living in L.A. was a grind. Jennifer and I barely saw each other. When I was offered a position at Riverbend, here in Ranger, I thought maybe we had a chance to start over. But I was wrong. Even though I said I’d set her up in her own practice here, Jennifer wouldn’t hear of the move. It was obvious at that point that her job was more important than our marriage and she wasn’t about to move to ‘some podunk little town in the mountains.’ She would be bored stiff in a small town in Colorado, without the nightlife and the glitz.