“Jessica,” Matt breathed.
He grasped the edge of her T-shirt, untucking it from her skirt, then splayed his fingers against her back, warming her skin.
She sat up and returned the favor, running her hands from his rib cage over his torso, across his well-muscled chest and shoulders.
He closed his eyes. “Jessica...” He was breathing harder now, she noticed with feminine satisfaction. Lowering her head, she let her hair brush across his skin as she kissed her way down his torso.
“Jessica!” It was more of a gasp than a breath.
Grabbing her shoulders, Matt held her away from him, then undressed her, making the simple T-shirt and denim skirt seem like exotic clothing.
“Ah, the blue,” he said when he saw her underwear.
“What do you mean, ‘Ah, the blue’?”
He grinned. “I saw your underwear hanging on the clothesline. Every morning, I’ve been trying to guess which set you’re wearing. I like the white ones. There didn’t seem to be much to them. But the blue looked like it would be easier to take off.”
“Well, here’s your chance to find out.”
Matt had already reached around her back. A second later he’d tossed her bra aside. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, and just gazed at her.
While he was distracted, Jessica unbuckled his jeans.
Funny thing. After that point, there was a lot less looking and a lot more action.
The first thing she did was to press her naked body fully against his, reveling in the feel of masculine strength.
“I’ve missed this,” she whispered. “There hasn’t been anyone since...”
“We’ll go slow,” Matt assured her.
Jessica raised her head. “Not too slow, I hope.”
Matt gave her fiercely tender look. “Jessica, I...” He swallowed and she suspected he’d been going to say something else. “I want this to be good for you.”
She touched his face. “It already is.”
Matt made love to her with complete intensity, as though she were the only woman in the world. He was tender, playful, sensuous and, to her delighted surprise, passionately vocal.
With his mouth and hands, he lavished attention on every inch of her, reawakening a long-slumbering desire.
With his caring touch, he revived pieces of Jessica’s heart that she’d thought were dead forever. It was a joyful lovemaking for her and she wanted to share some of that joy with him.
Wrapping her leg around him, she surprised him by rolling him over on his back, then looking at him the way he’d looked at her.
“You’re beautiful,” she said.
“I’m glad.”
It was such a sweet response that she rewarded him with a trail of kisses that left him gasping.
One second she was in control, and the next her back was against the pillows.
“Jessica...”
“Where did you learn that maneuver? Roping calves?”
He didn’t smile. “Jessica.” His voice was rough with longing.
She understood. He needed her. Now. Wrapping her arms around him, she drew him to her.
“I—”
“Hush. I want it, too.”
Even so, she gasped when he entered her all at once.
He gazed down at her. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she reassured him. “It’s just been such a long time.”
He lay with her, allowing her to get used to his body before beginning a slow rocking that quickly built in intensity until it carried them both into a world of pleasure that healed their bruised hearts.
* * *
MATT LOOKED DOWN at a sleeping Jessica and made himself a promise: he’d be thankful for whatever time she had to give him. And he’d no longer try to stop himself from falling in love with her.
It was too late, anyway, he acknowledged, and brushed a lock of hair off her cheek. It had been too late probably from the moment she’d dragged Sam out from under his arm the first time they met.
He was going to have to leave her bed soon. Neither of them wanted to make explanations to Sam, or Lita, for that matter.
He kissed her temple. She stirred, and to his surprise, opened her eyes.
“Hi,” she said softly.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She gave him a sleepy smile. “I’m glad you did.” She ran her hands over his chest and kissed his shoulder.
Something as simple as that caused his banked desire to flame with new life. Matt leaned over her, gently cupping her breast, savoring the intimacy. It would be hell when she left, but he intended to make it heaven until then.
* * *
JESSICA AWOKE EARLY the next morning feeling more alive than she had in years.
She could never go back to being the sort of person she’d been before she’d met Matt. She’d been alive, but she’d hadn’t really been living. Sam had been everything to her, and that was an awful lot of responsibility for a boy.
No matter what happened, or didn’t happen, between her and Matt, she wouldn’t make the mistake of depending solely on Sam for fulfillment again.
She already had the coffee made and Lita’s rolls baking when a sleepy Sam hobbled into the kitchen.
“I’m sore,” he announced. “My bu—”
“Too much information,” Jessica said, trying to hide her smile.
“Matt said I’d be sore and, man, is he right.” Sam yawned. “I need to go feed the animals. That’s my job now. Matt says I’m a real help.” He rubbed his eyes then looked at Jessica. “Can’t we stay longer? Please?”
Was she a horrible mother if she used that as an excuse to have extra time with Matt?
As if her thoughts had summoned him, he appeared in the doorway. It had only been hours since she’d fallen asleep in his arms, completely sated, yet if Sam weren’t here, she’d be heading for the bedroom right now.
“I’m trying to get Mom to let us stay longer. You don’t mind, do you, Matt?” Sam pleaded.
Matt looked at Jessica. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”
How could she leave when she’d just found him?
“I guess we could stay another week.” She looked at Matt as she spoke.
Matt’s eyes darkened and Jessica caught her breath.
“Aw right!” Sam slapped Matt’s hands and scampered out the door, his soreness forgotten.
She glanced back at Matt, wondering what he’d say to her.
He said nothing. In two strides, he was across the kitchen and had her in his arms, where he kissed her thoroughly and completely.
“Hold that thought until tonight,” he said when he released her.
Jessica grinned. “What if I need to be reminded during the day?”
“Matt, hurry up!” they heard Sam call.
Matt gave her a wry smile. “Guess I’ll have to send you a memo.”
* * *
KNOWING SHE WAS BEING cowardly, Jessica had sent Rachel an Email about their delayed return. She would have phoned if Rachel had acknowledged any of her other messages. From remarks some of the Fremont staff she’d talked to had made, Jessica knew Rachel had read them.
She was just being stubborn.
It was the only thing marring the perfect days that followed. It wasn’t often that a person had an absolutely perfect day, not to mention perfect night, and Jessica was treated to a string of them.
She abandoned her laptop and joined Matt and Sam outdoors, even riding around the newly repaired paddock on Black Star. Jessica took her turn at chores, too, ruining her nails, but who cared?
Across the ravine, they repaired the circus animals’ fence, then got to help give Scheherazade a bath using Murphy’s Oil Soap.
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After those perfect days, Jessica was even beginning to think that she could spend the rest of her life here.
These weeks had changed her. She wasn’t the willful girl who’d married Sam’s father, and she was no longer the overly staid young matron she’d become as his widow. She was finally a mixture of the two and she owed it all to Matt.
Matt. As a lover, he made her toes curl. Each night they spent together, they made love as though they had endless nights to do so. Neither mentioned what would happen at the end of the week.
And when he was with her son, Jessica caught herself watching them with a lump in her throat. Sam clearly adored Matt and she knew it wasn’t completely one-sided. There were times when she watched them from inside the house, times she saw Matt drape an arm around her son, tousle his hair or start a water fight at the spigot that left them both soaked and laughing.
She didn’t want to take Sam away from all that and, frankly, she wasn’t ready to leave, either. She’d actually decided to stay on longer, when a visitor arrived at the ranch.
Rachel.
* * *
MATT COULD FORGET everything when he was in Jessica’s arms, except the fact that she was leaving.
That was something he refused to think about, concentrating instead on making every moment they had alone together count. Doing so had put him behind, which was why he found himself at the computer on a hot, sunny afternoon, instead of outside with Sam and Jessica.
The mere thought of her caused an ache. He loved her and he wanted to tell her so. Last night, in an effort to keep from blurting out the words, he’d bitten his tongue so hard it had drawn blood.
She didn’t love him, he knew. She couldn’t. What did he have to offer her?
Everyone and everything in his life needed him, except Jessica. She was strong, independent—and there was always the money. The fact that she treated it so casually told him that she’d grown up with it and had never been caught with an empty wallet and too many days left in the month.
But Sam needed him, Matt knew. Sam needed a father. Matt would be honored to fill the role. He understood the boy and what would be good for him, because, to his surprise, Sam reminded him a lot of himself. Being with Sam was almost like getting a chance to put things right in his own life.
If he tried, he might be able to convince Jessica to stay for Sam’s sake, but would Matt want her on those terms?
He turned the chair around until he could see out the ranch office window. Sam was riding Black Star and Jessica was sitting under the pecan tree watching him. Beside her lay Sheba, who was perkier than she’d been in a while. Jessica even tolerated that crazy monkey. At least with Jessica and her pennies around, Caesar wasn’t bugging Matt so much.
As he watched, Jessica turned and looked back over her shoulder, then stood. From inside, Matt couldn’t see down the road, but someone was obviously coming. Lita was already here, even though she’d discreetly avoided arriving in the early mornings—not that she’d find anything, since Matt always left Jessica’s bed.
Just once he’d like to sleep all night in her arms, but he’d promised himself he wasn’t going to wish for what he couldn’t have.
A ritzy black car pulled into the ranch yard. Not from around here, Matt noticed at once. No one around here could afford to drive fancy cars like that.
Jessica stood there, stone-faced. Briefly Matt wondered why she hadn’t come inside to tell him they had a visitor, then the car door opened and an older dark-haired woman emerged.
She had on a jacket and pants the same color as the stones in his house, and right away Matt could see she was Jessica’s type of classy.
He saw her give his place the once-over, then point to Sam in the paddock. Jessica cupped her hands to her mouth, then waved when she’d caught Sam’s attention.
This, then, must be Sam’s grandmother, the Fremont matriarch herself.
Jessica hadn’t said much about her while she’d been here, and Matt elected to let them have their reunion in private.
Neither of the women was smiling.
Sam, bless him, remembered everything he’d been taught about dismounting, then climbed over the fence—he was an old hand at it now—and came running.
He flung himself at his grandmother in a way that made Matt’s stomach feel hollow.
Well, he knew it had to end sometime. He just hadn’t figured on it being today.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“GRAMMA, DID YOU SEE ME ride the horse?”
“Yes, I did.”
Sam apparently didn’t notice the tinge of disapproval in Rachel’s voice, but Jessica did. She’d expected it, but she’d hoped that Rachel would spare Sam from her anger.
“I can even saddle him myself.”
“Indeed.”
“He rides very well, Rachel,” Jessica said.
“And he’s tired of it, is he?”
“Oh, no, Gramma! I love it here.”
As Rachel gazed down at Sam, Jessica looked at him through her eyes. He was dusty and his new boots were filthy. His hair needed to be cut and his shirt was torn. She thought he looked like a little boy who was having a great summer, but she knew Rachel would think differently.
“You do appear to have been very casual here, Sam.” Rachel looked around the ranch complex. The new shed stood out, making the other buildings look even shabbier than they usually did.
Caesar chose that inopportune moment to scurry up to Rachel.
She clutched her throat. “What’s that!”
“Caesar’s a monkey, Gramma. He knows tricks. Watch. Mom, do you have any money?”
“I don’t have any more with me right now.”
“That’s okay.” Sam twirled around and hopped from foot to foot, then held out his hand. “Coin.”
To Jessica’s surprise, Caesar took off. If she’d only known that nifty little trick a couple of weeks ago.
“Are you going to stay here, too, Gramma?”
What an excellent question, Jessica thought.
Rachel’s face softened. “No, dear. I wanted to see you and speak with your mother.”
“Here comes Caesar. Watch.”
Chattering, Caesar came scurrying back, ran up to Sam and put a coin in his outstretched hand.
Sam put it in his mouth and bit it.
“Sam!” Jessica and Rachel said at the same time.
“It’s part of the game,” he told them, and put the coin into his pocket.
“Jessica,” Rachel said, her voice strident. “Could we go inside?”
Here it comes, Jessica thought as she ushered Rachel toward the door. “Sam, you need to take care of Black Star.”
“I know, Mom,” he said, and ran off toward the paddock.
Lita, bless her heart, must have seen Rachel’s arrival from the kitchen. A plate of gingersnaps was waiting on the coffee table in the den, and within moments of them sitting down, she appeared with tea in probably the only two cups of the heavy white china that were neither cracked nor chipped.
“Thank you, Lita,” Jessica said. “Lita is our cook and housekeeper. This is Mrs. Fremont, Sam’s grandmother.”
For a moment, Jessica thought Lita was going to curtsy. As it was, she bobbed her head and disappeared into the kitchen.
“I’m glad to see there are some civilizing aspects to this place,” Rachel said.
Okay, so she wanted to take off the gloves. “I’m surprised to see you, since you never responded to my daily E-mails.”
“You mean your little gloating messages? Certainly not.”
Gloating? Gloating? Jessica was prevented from saying something she’d surely regret when Matt stepped into the den.
He looked so solid and strong and wonderful that Jessica just smiled at him for
a moment.
It was undoubtedly the worst thing she could have done if she’d hoped to hide her feelings. When Rachel’s breath hissed between her teeth, Jessica knew her mother-in-law had guessed why Jessica and Sam were still at Winter Ranch.
Well, so what? Jessica thought recklessly. “Rachel, this is Matt Winston. He owns the ranch.” And my heart.
“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Fremont.”
“Mr. Winston,” Rachel acknowledged icily.
Matt didn’t let her intimidate him. “I see Lita has taken care of offering you refreshment. You’re welcome to stay for supper if you like.”
“Thank you, but I believe my business here will be concluded before then.”
Matt’s cordial expression didn’t change. “Jessica, I’ll go keep an eye on Sam.” He strode toward the door and took his hat off the peg. “Ma’am,” he said to Rachel. He caught Jessica’s gaze just before he went out the door. She was learning to read his looks and that was one of encouragement.
She had a feeling she’d need it.
Rachel wasted no time with small talk. “Have—you—lost—your—mind?”
“No,” Jessica answered, and dunked a gingersnap into her tea.
Rachel reached into her purse, put on her glasses and removed some folded papers. They were copies of bank transactions. Jessica’s bank transactions, as it transpired.
“Fourteen thousand dollars as a donation to Lost Springs, I suppose I can live with, although the spectacle you made of yourself at the auction is still the hot topic of conversation. I can’t enter a room without talk ceasing and people staring at me.”
Once, Jessica would have cringed. Not anymore. “Oh, Rachel, it’s probably because we’ve been so philanthropic lately. First you send those children to camp, then I buy a man at a bachelor auction. They’re wondering whom we’ll give money to next.”
“Matthew Winston, apparently.” Rachel shifted the papers. “You’ve bought building supplies, appliances, food...and what appears to be five thousand dollars in outright cash.”
She made it all sound sordid. “How is it that you have access to my checking account?”
“It was your joint account with Samuel. His father and I always had signing privileges. After all, it’s Fremont money,” Rachel said pointedly.
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