by Claire King
When she was finished, and every little tremor had subsided, he buried his face in her neck and followed her in.
“Dammit.”
Grace sighed at the expletive, ran a limp hand down his back. He’d been practically comatose on top of her for several minutes. Only the harsh sound of his breathing at her ear and the movement of his chest against hers gave any indication she hadn’t killed him. She opened her eyes. “What?”
“We didn’t get any dinner.” He bit down gently on her neck. “I know I’m crushing you. I’ll move in a minute.”
She ran her hand down his back again. “Take your time.”
He managed to get as far as his elbows, so he could peer into her face. “You all right?”
She pinched his tight rear end. “Don’t ask me stupid questions. You know perfectly well how I am.”
His smile bloomed slowly, lit up his face. “Yeah?”
She raised her brows. “Oh, what an egomaniac.”
He laughed, rolled with her until she was on top of him. They grinned stupidly into one another’s faces for a minute.
“I’ve never been ravished before,” she blurted.
He chuckled. “Me, either.”
“Well, I’m a brute.”
“You are. It’s a damned holy wonder you stayed a virgin this long.”
Grace’s face fell. He’d known. Oh, dammit, he’d known. She must have done something wrong, something…virginal. Well, she wouldn’t blush again. She’d face up to her mistakes like a woman.
“No one ever bothered to use your brilliant seduction techniques on me before,” she said, hiding nerves behind a stouthearted chuckle. “I’m apparently a sucker for a nasty snarl and a crabby attitude.”
He grunted. “You probably had the major moves put on you a hundred times and didn’t know it.” He leaned his head forward and kissed her sweaty neck. “Checking the guy’s cat for feline ataxia while he was trying to get you into bed, knowing you.”
She smiled, flattered in spite of herself. “Feline ataxia is a very serious problem.”
“You should have told me, Grace.”
“Why?” Shyness battled with contentment.
He smiled, ran his finger down her nose. “It’s the polite thing to do. And since you seem to have a thing for politeness—”
“I’m unfamiliar with the etiquette for this sort of thing. I’ll do better next time.”
He slid her next to him on the sheets, cuddling her, and yawned hugely. “There’s no next time,” he said, making her heart bump.
No next time? Grace stared at the wall next to her bed, then slowly let her eyes close.
Oh, God. A one-night stand. This was a one-night stand. How could she not have understood that? Of course there wouldn’t be a next time. This had been a fluke for him, a fling, a short little walk on the wild side with the freak. No reason to think it had been as amazing for him as it had been for her.
Daniel shifted in the bed, snuggling closer to her. “You do understand that, right?” he mumbled.
Grace swallowed, forcing saliva and tears back down her throat. “Of course I understand. I’m a grown-up.”
He nuzzled her hair. She felt his mouth curve against her damp scalp. “Can you imagine?”
“What?”
“Losing your virginity more than once.”
She blinked. “What are you talking about?”
He lifted his head. She had tears in her voice, he could hear them. “I’m saying there won’t be a next time because you can only have your first time once.” His eyes narrowed on her flushed face. “What are you talking about?”
She stared at him for a full ten seconds, memorizing the way he looked, just now. The way his sleepy green eyes traveled over her face, the way his mouth looked soft and bruised from kissing her, the way his nostrils flared slightly at the scent they’d rubbed up from each other. The relief that this wouldn’t be her last time with him was palpable. “The same thing,” she answered finally.
He watched her for a moment more, then dropped his head back onto her pillow and fit himself against her once more. He knew there was more, knew there was something behind that quavery voice, those shining eyes, but he didn’t press her. She scared him quite enough as it was, he thought ruefully. No sense asking for trouble.
They were quiet a long time, and Grace listened as Daniel’s breathing evened out. She could hear his heart beating under her ear, the strong thud of it slowing into a steady, powerful rhythm. When she was sure he was asleep, she whispered, “I’m glad I waited for you.”
Beside her, awake, aroused again already, Daniel let his eyes close. He felt the strangest lump come into his throat. “I’m glad you did, too,” he murmured and felt her startle. He tucked her closer to him and did his best to ignore the stirring he experienced when she slung one of those showgirl legs over his. Too soon for her, he thought, though his body was, miraculously, ready again. She snuggled her cheek into the hollow of his shoulder.
“I thought you were asleep,” she admitted shyly.
“I know you did.” And he felt such a tenderness for her, knowing she’d only have admitted her feelings when she didn’t think he’d hear. He ran his hand down her hair. It felt like satin through his rough fingers. “Are you sleepy? Or more hungry? We could still have dinner.”
“Are you hungry?”
He was starving, but couldn’t bring himself to say so. She might move, put her clothes back on. He didn’t want that. “I’m okay.”
She yawned, the day, the anticipation, the man beside her, all catching up with her. “Then more sleepy, I think.”
He smiled, kissed her soft hair. “Go to sleep, Grace.” He watched the shadows the waning spring moon cast on the ceiling of her bedroom. Go to sleep, he thought.
I’ll just lie here and wonder what the hell I’m supposed to do with you now.
The sound of her pager woke her. She could hear it in the other room, where she’d left it on her kitchen counter, buzzing at her.
Stupid thing. She squeezed her eyes shut. She hated modern technology.
“Don’t get that,” a voice rumbled next to her ear.
Good heavens, she was in bed with a man. She giggled. Would wonders never cease?
“It’s probably Spandell with another case of milk fever,” she mumbled.
“Spandell couldn’t get milk fever,” Daniel muttered, turning his big body in the bed to spoon her. He was determined to not wake up. If he woke up, he’d have to let go. He wrapped his arm around her waist, scooted her closer. “Spandell’s a man.”
That was funny. Grace giggled again. Everything was funny.
“I really should get that.”
He pressed against her naked bottom. The arousal he’d gone to sleep with was hammering at him again.
“I’ll give you a thousand dollars to not get out of this bed.”
She wriggled around to face him, making him hiss in air through his teeth. She gave him a quick kiss before she scooted out from under his heavy arm. “That smacks of prostitution.”
“Two thousand dollars,” he mumbled into his pillow as she padded, naked, into the kitchen.
It was her answering service. She called to get her message, hung up, immediately made another call.
Daniel was sitting up in the bed when she returned to the bedroom. He’d been listening to her side of the conversation, and had spent enough time working for Dr. Niebaur, and, later, as a veterinary resident, to know what was happening.
“Whose mare?” he asked.
“Nick Hollowell’s.”
“How long has she been in labor?”
“He doesn’t know. He checked her about ten minutes ago. Sounds like she’s prolapsing.” Grace pulled up her panties, left the bra where it lay. “You can stay here until morning if you like.”
He gave her a look. “Right.”
She yanked jeans out of the dresser, practically jumped into them. “I’m sorry about this.”
“Don’t be
stupid.” He walked, naked, into the bathroom. She could hear him in there, and again struggled not to blush. So what if he didn’t close the door? She wasn’t a schoolgirl, to be giggling and blushing every other minute. Get hold of yourself, Gracie.
She threw on a sweatshirt. “I’ll—” What? See you around? Call you later? What was the protocol when you slept with a man for the first time?
He came out of the bathroom, still naked, and Grace tried not to stare. “You’ll…?” he prompted. He yanked on his shorts, pulled his jeans on over them.
“I’ll see you.”
“Yes, you will. I’m going with you.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t argue with me,” he warned.
She took in a deep breath. “I wasn’t going to.”
“Because you’re not going out in the middle of the night to foal a prolapsing mare by yourself.”
She grabbed her jacket and her bag as he followed her out to the kitchen. “All right.”
“Where the hell are my buttons?”
Her eyes went wide. “I don’t know.”
He caught the chagrin in her voice and smiled at her. “I was in a hurry, too.”
“Not after a while, you weren’t.”
He shook his head, a little embarrassed himself now. “I’m polite that way.”
“I like polite.”
“I know. You liked polite twice, actually.”
“Oh, God. Let’s just go.”
He laughed. “You started it.”
“Yes, I know. I’m sorry.”
He shut the door behind them. “Not me. It shows another whole new side to your personality. The trampy side.” He jogged behind her to the truck. “Grace, I won’t get in your way,” he said as he got in behind the wheel.
“I know.”
“It could be anything.”
“I know.”
“You could need my help.”
She turned her head, smiled out the passenger-side window.
“I know.”
She’d wanted him to come with her. And there he’d been.
They worked together over the mare until nearly dawn. They got the foal born; it was wobbly, weak, but alive. While the mare’s owner wiped the shivery little thing down with towels and kept it warm, Grace gave the mare a shot of Pitocin and sewed up the prolapse. Daniel never left her, using his superior strength when it was needed, to hold the mare, to pull the foal, to hold the prolapse in while Grace took neat stitches.
When it was over, and she’d given her instructions to Hollowell, Daniel kept his hand at the small of her back while she trudged, exhausted, back to her truck. She wasn’t sure she would have made it otherwise.
“I’ll be back at noon,” she told Hollowell through the open passenger window. “Call me if you need me before then. And let that baby suck as much as she can. It’ll help contract the mare’s uterus.”
“Thanks, Doc,” the man said. He slapped the side of the truck. “I wasn’t sure about a woman vet, but you done a good job.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“You’re big and strong, I’ll give you that.”
“Thanks,” she said again, wanting to give Daniel, who was snuffling with suppressed laughter beside her, a sharp jab.
Hollowell stuck his hand through the open window. “Dan, thanks for the help.”
Daniel nodded, gave Grace’s client a quick, manly handshake. “You bet, Nick.”
“You ain’t forgot much, have ya?”
Daniel made a sound with his teeth and his cheek. “Hard to say.”
“Well, you come on back at noon with the Doc, here. I’ll have the wife fix you up some calf fries we saved from fall branding.”
“Sounds good. See you, Nick.”
“Yeah, see ya. Don’t forget about them fries.”
“Nope.” Daniel waved as he eased Grace’s truck down the dirt lane.
She had her head on the seatback, and her eyes were closed. “I’m not eating that.”
Daniel smiled. The adrenaline was still pumping through him and he wanted nothing more than to pull over onto the side of this dark country road and exorcise some of it with the woman falling asleep beside him. “Do you even know what they are, city girl?”
“Yes, and I’m not eating calf testicles. I don’t care if he thinks I’m a sissy.”
“It’s a traditional food.”
She snorted. “Like blood pudding? Haggis? Tripe? Yech.” She made a face with her eyes still closed. “I don’t eat disgusting stuff.”
“For a woman who regularly does things to animals that would make most people faint dead away, you sure have a delicate stomach.”
“Hmm. Hey!” She sat up. “Can we stop at the clinic on the way back to my house? I want to get the Hollowell file. I think I know why that mare prolapsed tonight.”
“Fine, but then we’re stopping for breakfast. I’m half starved to death.”
“Your arteries will clog if you keep eating at that café.”
“Well, you can’t feed me. You don’t have anything in your refrigerator.”
“I have cottage cheese. A bagel, I think. I have half an orange.”
“I’ll risk my arteries, thanks.” He smacked his lips. “Besides, there’s a woman at the Early Bird who bakes blueberry muffins like you wouldn’t believe.” He kept his eyes on the road. “Not that I don’t pretty much worship that body of yours, Doc, but I could really go for a woman who bakes.”
“Very funny.” Grace closed her eyes again. “I liked you better when you were humorless,” she said.
Daniel drove through town and pulled in beside the back door of the clinic. Grace started to jump out. “Can I have the keys? I’ll just be a second.”
He handed her the keys, then got out and followed her to the door. She looked quizzically at him.
“I’ll just be a second,” she repeated.
“Uh-huh. I’m going to let you go into this building alone in the middle of the night.”
“It’s almost six. It’ll be light in twenty minutes.”
He just raised his brows at her. “Aggravating,” she muttered, then stuck her key in the lock, thrilled to death with this man.
The door opened before she could turn the key.
“Huh,” she said, frowning. “I could have sworn I locked this last night.”
He shouldered her aside. “Go sit in the truck.”
“Right,” she said, and crept in behind him.
Daniel went straight for her meds cabinet. The lock was undisturbed. People broke into vet clinics all the time; in many cases, drugs for animals were not discernably different than those for humans, and brought decent cash on the black market.
“The lab’s still locked, and the kennels and the office are fine,” Grace said as she came up behind him.
“I thought you said you were going to sit in the truck?”
“You need a refresher course in sarcasm.” She looked around. “Nothing’s disturbed here.”
They returned to the back door and Grace jiggled the handle. “It’s still locked. I must just not have pulled the door closed tightly enough.”
“Huh.”
“Stop grunting. It’s nothing. Let’s go.”
“I thought you wanted Hollowell’s file.”
She waved it in front of him. “I got it. Mrs. Handleman may not want to touch my computer, but she keeps very good files. So—” She didn’t want to ask, was unsure of the procedure. “Breakfast first. Then you probably need to get back to the ranch?”
He pulled the door closed, and checked it. It didn’t seem sticky or badly hung. “No.”
“No?” Her heart jumped into her throat. “Not at all?”
He shoved at the door. Nothing gave. He decided he’d buy new locks for it anyway. As the landlord, of course. “Frank’s feeding the heifers this morning.”
“Oh. So, that’s…good.”
He finally noticed her. Her hands were clasped over her file, bending it. “Do you want
me to go home, Grace?”
She shrugged, shook her head. “You can do what you want.”
“Because I don’t particularly want to.”
“Oh, well, whatever,” she said nonchalantly, but one corner of her mouth kicked up.
He saw it. “Don’t make me go home, Grace,” he whispered at her ear, teasing her.
She pretended to consider, while her fingers tingled and her heart raced. “I need my sleep,” she said.
“You can sleep. I won’t touch you.”
She gave him a look that made him laugh.
“Just get in the truck, Doc, before I unlock that door and see how much weight your desk can hold.”
“My desk?”
He laughed again. “Your desk.”
She stared at him. “You know, I’m growing oddly fond of that imagination of yours.”
“Doc, honey, you ain’t seen nothing.”
Chapter 8
They undressed just as the weak Idaho spring sun managed to send enough light into Grace’s small bedroom to gild her pale skin and shoot glimmers of gold into her brown eyes. Daniel watched her intently as she turned away from him to slide into her bed, bashful even after all they’d shared. She hadn’t let him undress her, hadn’t tried to rip his shirt off him again. More’s the pity, he thought.
She was unsure, he could see it. So he battled back the animal that clawed at him, made him want to seize her and take her and send them both screaming into the new day. He’d be gentle, remember it was all so new to her, keep every touch and caress careful and sweet. She was so vulnerable, he thought, standing naked and fully aroused beside her bed, regarding her soberly as she tried to hold his gaze. All that long, cool babe of a body was just packaging for an uncertain, nearly innocent woman. He’d do his best to remember that.
He climbed in after her, fitting himself against her. She shifted her legs to accommodate his thoroughly indiscreet reaction to her and he almost jumped out of his skin as he felt her body against his most sensitive skin. He felt Grace shudder slightly.
“Are you cold?”
She shook her head.
“Tired?” He threaded his hands through her hair. She’d been up with Hollowell’s mare all night. Maybe she just wanted sleep.