The Cowboy's Lesson in Love

by Marie Ferrarella

  A beat later the surprised expression melted into a smile as she responded, “That’s very nice of you.”

  He’d gotten caught in a trap inadvertently of his own making, Clint thought as he mumbled, “Yeah, sure.” Then, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say or any way to get out of this gracefully without looking like a complete idiot, he retorted, “You ready?”

  She glanced over to where her cousin was standing. Shania was talking to one of the searchers, a Navajo. Will had come from the reservation when the call had gone out to look for Tyler.

  Shania’s eyes met hers for a brief moment. They’d always had their own way of communicating and now was no different. Shania nodded at her with a smile, then went back to talking to the native tracker.

  “I’m ready,” Wynona said, returning her attention back to Clint.

  Resigned to playing the Boy Scout, Clint held the door open for her as she walked out of the diner. Wynona smiled at him.

  But once they were outside and the door closed behind them, Wynona turned toward the rancher and said, “You don’t really have to take me home.”

  Confusion creased his brow. “But you just said you wanted me to take you home.”

  “No,” Wynona contradicted, “I was just providing you with an excuse to leave the celebration the way you’ve been itching to do since before we ever walked into the diner.”

  Clint regarded this puzzle of a woman as they went down the steps. Was she saying she didn’t want him to take her home? No, that wasn’t it. She actually did think she’d provided him with an excuse.

  His car was still parked in front of the elementary school where he’d left it when he’d gone to invite her to dinner at the ranch. Taking hold of her elbow, he guided Wynona in that direction now.

  “I can make my own excuses,” he told her, then added firmly, “I said I was taking you home so I’m taking you home.”

  Wynona squared her shoulders. “I’m a big girl—” she began.

  He thought of the way she’d turned and kissed him just before he’d walked into the diner. A wave of warmth washed over him.

  “I’m well aware of that,” he assured her.

  His voice suddenly sounded silky, almost seductive, Wynona thought. And she could feel him looking at her, his eyes moving over every inch of her very slowly.

  It was all she could do not to react.

  Forcing herself to focus, Wynona tried again. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m very capable of walking myself home.”

  He had set ideas when it came to certain things. He was the man and as such, the protector in this scenario. “It’s dark.” He assumed that was enough to get his point across.

  “Very observant,” Wynona remarked, the corners of her mouth curving.

  He strove for patience. “What I’m saying,” he told her, enunciating each word, “is that I’d feel better if I got you home safe.”

  Her brow furrowed just a little as she looked at him. “Why?”

  Clint could feel the last of his patience flying out the window. “Damn it, woman, is everything up for debate with you?”

  “I’m just trying to understand you.” She wasn’t being flippant, just giving an honest answer.

  It wasn’t an answer that he wanted. She was trying to get close to him and he didn’t want that. The very idea scared him.

  “Well, don’t,” he snapped. “Not everything has to be dissected, least of all me.”

  She looked into his eyes. “What are you afraid of, Clint?”

  “That I’ll strangle you and they’ll convict me,” he retorted.

  Wynona laughed then. It was a light, silvery sound that undid every single nerve ending in his body, leaving him defenseless.

  They were right in front of the school now. He didn’t really have any recollection of what came over him. All he knew was that one moment he was walking next to her, the next minute he had her in his arms with his lips pressed against hers.

  For the first time in over two hours, he felt like he had come alive again.

  Which was all wrong, he silently argued, because he shouldn’t be feeling that way.

  Shouldn’t be doing this.

  Shouldn’t be wanting to do this. But yet, he couldn’t stop.

  So what he did was try to assure himself that this would never happen again. The only way he felt he could achieve that was to frighten her into keeping her distance. And that would have to involve kissing her so hard, so thoroughly, that the whole experience would wind up leaving an indelible mark on her soul and cause her to run from him. It would be the only way she could save herself.

  The only way that he could save himself.

  The only problem with his plan was that, within moments, he wound up falling into his own trap. Because he wound up kissing Wynona so completely that he was left gasping for air with his head spinning and his heart racing so hard, for a moment he was certain that it was going to burst right through his veins.

  * * *

  Wynona couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t get her bearings. Within seconds of his lips covering hers with such feeling, she found that she had lost all orientation. She had no idea where she was.

  All she knew was that she didn’t want this to stop.

  If the world would suddenly come to an end right at this very moment, this was exactly the way she would have wanted to die because this was truly the most wonderful thing she had ever experienced.

  There was no improving on perfection.

  When Clint finally drew back, looking, she thought, as overwhelmed and disoriented as she felt, neither one of them could speak.

  And then, as the silence stretched out, underscored by the pounding of her heart echoing in her ears, Wynona heard herself saying breathlessly, “I don’t live very far from here.” She had to concentrate on breathing. “Would you like to come over?”

  Was she asking what he thought she was asking—or was he just hoping that she was?

  No, damn it, Clint silently argued, he didn’t want this to happen, didn’t want to sink into that quicksand again, feeling as if he had lost his very soul. His life was simple now. It was straightforward. He knew exactly what to expect from each day. No surprises. Feelings only complicated that.

  And yet you’re feeling really alive for the first time in years, a small voice in his head whispered.

  His mouth felt almost dry as he finally answered her question. “I shouldn’t.”

  Wynona shook her head. “That’s not what I asked,” she told him quietly. Her eyes on his as she repeated her question. “Do you want to come over?”

  All he had to do was say no then turn on his heel and walk away—after he brought her home. That was what he’d said he was going to do and he wasn’t, as she had pointed out with great emphasis, a man who didn’t honor his word.

  But once he brought Wynona up to her door, he knew that he would go inside if she invited him. If she asked him to, he thought.

  If.

  The single word vibrated in his mind, almost mocking him.

  “It’s not that difficult a question,” Wynona told him, her voice soft, almost seductive, as she waited for him to say something. “Do you want to?” she asked Clint for a third time.

  It felt as if time had suddenly stood still.

  He tried; he really tried to say the word. Tried to say no to her and with that at least temporarily put an end to his anguish.

  After all, turning her down was the honorable thing to do. The right thing to do.

  But as Clint looked down into her upturned face, Wynona’s brilliant blue eyes all but mesmerizing him, he heard himself say the word that would, in all likelihood, wind up sealing his doom.

  He said the word so quietly it was almost too quiet to be heard.

  But she heard it anyway.

  “Yes.
”

  Chapter Fifteen

  He really didn’t remember the short drive to Wynona’s house.

  It felt like one moment he was opening the passenger door for her, waiting until she had seated herself and buckled up, the next moment he was pulling up his vehicle, bringing it to a stop before the modest house where she and her cousin currently lived. Everything in between had been just a big blur.

  Clint made his way around the rear of his truck on legs that felt as if they were on loan from someone else. Coming to her side of the truck he put his hand on the passenger door handle.

  Independent to a fault, Wynona had always felt that she was perfectly capable of getting out of the truck by herself. She nearly started to tell him as much.

  But she sensed that all these steps were somehow important to Clint so she restrained her natural inclination to just climb out unaided and waited for him to open the door.

  When he did, she was careful to take the hand he offered her before she stepped out. Her heart was beating wildly. Her eyes never left his face.

  “We’re here,” he told her in a voice she couldn’t quite fathom.

  “We are,” she agreed as if to rubber-stamp his words. She turned from him and unlocked her front door.

  The sound of the lock clicking open seemed somehow magnified in the stillness.

  She pushed the door open, then walked into the small, welcoming house.

  Clint wasn’t following her.

  He wasn’t debating the wisdom of coming into her house; he already knew that came under the heading of a foolish move even though he knew he was going to make it. What Clint was doing was attempting to reconcile himself with the consequences that he was certain were waiting for him once what he was about to do came to its logical conclusion.

  Crossing the threshold, Wynona quickly moved about the living room, turning on lights, trying to make the house seem less intimate.

  Once the room was sufficiently illuminated, she turned around to see if Clint had come in yet.

  He hadn’t.

  Facing him, Wynona said nothing. She just stood there and waited in silence.

  “It’s warmer once you come in and close the door,” she coaxed.

  “Yeah,” he agreed belatedly. Then taking in one more long breath, he walked into the house and closed the door behind him with his back.

  Okay, Wynona thought. Part one is over. “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked.

  For a second, Clint’s mind went completely blank. Regaining the use of his tongue, he heard himself asking, “What do you have?”

  Wynona moved toward the refrigerator. “Well, let’s see.” Opening the door she began to move things around to see what was available inside. “Looks like we have orange juice, beer, red wine and soda,” she enumerated. “I can put up a pot of coffee if you like,” she offered, straightening up and turning to look in his direction. “What’s your pleasure?”

  Only then did she realize that Clint had crossed the room over to her. He was now all but toe to toe with her, looking down into her face.

  “You.” The response was automatic without any deliberation or thought from him.

  Trying to remember to breathe, Wynona released the refrigerator door, pushing it shut.

  “Then I guess you’re in luck,” she answered. “I just happen to have some of that on hand.”

  Before she could berate herself for giving voice to a totally mindless answer, Clint had caught her up in his arms and brought his mouth down on hers.

  The heat, the combustion between them, was instant, firing her up and setting Wynona off like a flare shooting up into the darkened night sky.

  She kissed him back as hard, and with as much feeling, as he had kissed her. This part of her life had been untapped for a very long time but there was no working her way up to passion. It was right there, waiting to be set off. One spark and it was engulfing her.

  Desire took over.

  Wynona couldn’t just focus on any one area or on any one thing. Every part of her was responding. Every part of her was vibrating with excitement.

  His lips roamed all over her face, her neck, branding every inch of skin as he came in contact with it.

  Moving lower.

  And just when she thought that there was no turning back, no stopping this runaway train that was barreling down the track, going full steam ahead, Clint pulled back, stunning her.

  Wynona pressed her lips together to suppress the moan, the protest that had risen to her lips. Regaining her breath was a challenge as confusion ran rampant through her brain.

  He couldn’t be stopping now—could he?

  “What’s wrong?” she asked Clint, doing what she could to steady her breathing so that she wouldn’t sound as if she was gasping for air.

  “Your cousin,” he responded, the two words just hanging in the air between them.

  It was enough.

  She understood.

  It stunned her that he was that aware, that thoughtful of her at a time that was so fraught with emotion. In essence, he was thinking of the effect this would have on her reputation.

  He was putting it—and thus her—ahead of his own needs.

  “She won’t be home for a few hours,” Wynona assured him, praying that the momentary pause in the midst of all this wouldn’t cause him to change his mind and make him go home.

  Clint leaned in and kissed her again, but not with as much frenzied passion as he’d exhibited just a moment ago. She felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.

  Had he had a change of heart? Was he leaving after all?

  * * *

  If he had an ounce of sense in his head, Clint would leave rather than allow this hollow longing within him to drive him this way.

  But there wasn’t enough sense and there was far too much hollow longing driving him onward—no, begging him to go onward.

  “Where’s your bedroom?” he asked Wynona in a raspy voice.

  He wasn’t leaving!

  She almost cheered out loud as she took hold of his hand. Turning around, she led the way from the kitchen toward the two rooms that were beyond it.

  Hers was the one on the right side.

  The moment they were inside the room, closing the door on the rest of the world, Clint pulled her back into his arms again.

  Kissed her again as if his very life depended on the action.

  Clint had her up against the wall, kissing her with every shred of passion that had been totally unleashed within him.

  She could feel his heart racing as his chest pressed up against hers.

  This time there would be no turning back, no hesitation. She could feel it.

  Her head was swimming as the depth of his kisses grew, engulfing her. Stealing away the very air out of her lungs.

  She didn’t care.

  All she cared about was that Clint was here, with her. He was making everything within her sizzle with the force of a hundred suns.

  Wynona struggled to make this taciturn man feel every single thing that she was feeling. She needed to make him feel what she was feeling.

  Someone had ripped this man’s heart out without a second thought, paralyzing all of his emotions. She was determined to bring him back among the living. And just as determined not to make him regret the fact that he could feel again.

  Their lips sealed together, they tumbled onto her bed, caught up in absorbing every sensation, every nuance, that was being stirred and brought back to life.

  She felt his hands on her body, caressing her, possessing her and pulling aside the cloth barriers that were in his way.

  She felt her clothes being removed from her body, being cast aside. As warm breath covered her body, it instantly prompted her to follow suit, undressing Clint with movements that were more jagged than fluid.

&
nbsp; Even so, she still managed to do the job.

  And then they were both nude.

  Their bodies tangling together as if there was no question that this was what had been intended all along since the very beginning of time.

  * * *

  The voice of reason that Clint had cultivated over the years until it was almost all he was aware of had begun to fade from the first moment their lips had met. The voice was almost totally submerged now, melted in the bubbling waters of desire.

  In a last-ditch attempt, he tried to summon it, to resurrect it. But it was completely out of reach, almost totally gone.

  He didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to think. He just wanted this all-encompassing, addictive feeling shooting through his body to be allowed free rein until that was all there was within him.

  The sensation was too overwhelming for him to release from his grip. It had been far too long since he had felt like an actual human being instead of just an empty shell.

  Wynona twisted and turned beneath him, surrendering to Clint even as she held him captive. She moaned as his hot mouth skimmed along the length of her, leaving her almost completely mindless, a throbbing mass of hungry desire.

  With her last shred of strength, she struggled to do the same to him. To make him feel the way she did.

  Her pulse racing, she felt that she had succeeded, at least in part.

  For a man who had withdrawn from the land of the living for so many years, he was unbelievably incredible, Wynona thought, making every single inch of her sing even as she longed for the final fulfilling moment, for the explosion that promised to rock her entire world.

  Instinctively, she knew that it wasn’t an empty promise. The only reason a part of her was still striving to hang back was because she wanted this feeling to go on for as long as possible.

  But her self-control was splintering. Within moments she no longer had the strength to hold him—and herself—at bay.

  She needed to feel that enormous final rush seizing her in its powerful grip.

  Wynona arched her back, her body moving temptingly beneath his. With her eyes silently on his expression, she parted her legs, her invitation clear.