by Karen Leabo
“Mmm, I have no intention of leaving.”
He kissed her forehead and brushed her damp hair from her face. “You’re incredible. So beautiful.”
Embarrassed by his praise, Victoria said nothing. But he continued, telling her just how terrific she was in terms that grew more and more explicit. Pretty soon she caught on to his game and joined in, praising his virility, his exquisite skill as a lover. And she wasn’t exaggerating one bit. Every sexual encounter she’d had up till then—and there hadn’t been that many—seemed bland and featureless compared to this soul-wrenching union with Roan.
He stirred inside her, and she started to object, afraid he was going to pull away. But the stirring turned into a small thrust, then another, and another.
“That’s impossible,” she whispered.
“Oh, yeah?”
There was no denying that he was fully aroused once again. Victoria closed her eyes and went with it, moving with him, pulling him more deeply into her. Incredible, she thought. Pretty soon she discovered it was possible, for him as well as her. He waited until she tipped over the edge of the universe, and then he joined her.
Victoria had never seen such stamina. By dawn she was exhausted, having made love, dozed, and made love until she’d lost count. Roan had just awakened her again by kissing her stomach and tickling the inside of her thigh.
She was tempted. But Nelva was an early riser, and Victoria would just as soon her mother didn’t see her exiting the guest cottage in her nightclothes as the sun came up.
Victoria ruffled Roan’s hair. “Come here, you, and kiss me properly.”
“Mmm, any way you say,” he said in a sleepy voice before obliging her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened herself to the kiss, acknowledging the syrupy warmth that spread through her body. Roan’s hand strayed to her breast, but she halted his gentle assault. “One would think you’re trying to get in a whole lifetime’s worth of sex in one night.”
“Maybe I am. Think of all the time we wasted, all those nights we spent in two motel rooms …” He kissed her neck and teased her ear with his tongue.
She wiggled and pushed him away. “Roan …”
He halted his attempted seduction and looked into her eyes, his face filled with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, except it’s getting late …”
He smiled back, reminding her of a mischievous little boy. “Oh. If that’s all …” He again fondled her breast, and this time she let him. His touch felt so familiar, as if they’d been lovers for years instead of hours.
But she couldn’t let him get too carried away. The sky was growing lighter with each passing minute. “Not that this isn’t lovely, Roan, but I really do have to go,” she said, dredging the words up despite the desire that bloomed inside her yet again. “I don’t want Mother to know.”
“Why not?” He teased her ear with his tongue. “You’re a big girl.”
“I’m still a little girl when it comes to my mother.” She tried to sit up. “Come on, the coach is about to turn into a pumpkin. It’s time for Cinderella to go back to her own castle.”
“Is this it, then?” he asked, his voice alarmingly flat and featureless. “Am I back to being a gentleman?”
Victoria smoothed his hair from his face. “You mean, should we go back to being friends and nothing more?” She giggled. “What are you, crazy? You think I’ll be able to walk away from the best night of my life and not look back? Don’t you have more faith in your seductive powers?” But she chose her next words carefully. “We still have the rest of the trip.” Not the rest of our lives.
A smile spread slowly across his face. “Sometimes you surprise the hell out of me, Vic. I was ready for you to turn all proper and insist we forget this ever happened.”
“I could never forget. No matter what else—” She cut herself off. “Want to drive into town today?”
He seemed taken aback by the abrupt change of subject. “Sure, I guess. What for?”
“I thought we might visit the drugstore.”
“Ohhh. Jeez, babe, I never even thought … you mean, you aren’t …”
She shook her head and shrugged helplessly. “I guess we should have discussed this earlier. If it’s any consolation, I have very regular cycles—”
He silenced her with a kiss. “I don’t think I want to hear this. Let’s not borrow trouble. We’ll go to the drugstore.”
She found it nearly impossible to pull herself out of the bed, but somehow she managed it. She left Roan stretched out on top of the covers, naked and uninhibited, grinning like a tomcat. And well he should.
She’d actually thought about protection earlier, but seeing no way to procure anything at that hour of the night, and unwilling to stop what she’d started, she’d pushed the thought from her mind. It was unlikely she would conceive at this stage of her cycle, but of course there was no guarantee. Oddly, the possibility of her carrying Roan’s child wasn’t nearly as upsetting as it should have been.
The next three days were the most idyllic Roan could remember. He and Victoria spent their days enjoying farm life and all its simple pleasures. They borrowed two horses from the neighbors and galloped through fallow fields, made homemade ice cream, fed the chickens, and collected eggs. He didn’t even mind when Nelva, declaring they should earn their keep, pressed them into service weeding her flower garden.
Thoughts of his sister’s death plagued him relatively infrequently now. When he did think about Kim, the pain seemed a little less intense, the guilt less oppressive. He even entertained the possibility that he might deserve forgiveness. Someday. Maybe it was the healing touch of the sun and fresh air and an absence of stress, or maybe it was the fact that Victoria had accepted him warts and all. Whatever the reason, he felt better than he had in a long, long time.
At night Roan waited on the front porch of the guest house for Victoria to come to him. Each time he feared she wouldn’t show, that she would change her mind and see the foolhardiness of carrying on with someone like him, a man who couldn’t offer her the things she so richly deserved—a permanent home, stability, peace of mind. But each night she came, and they made love until they were too exhausted to move. By their fourth night together, even Roan was willing to admit he’d reached the limits of his sexual prowess. They lay together, sweating and spent, but instead of drifting to sleep as they usually did, Victoria decided she wanted to talk. About them.
It was the moment Roan had been dreading, because he didn’t have any answers for her.
“You know, this whole thing has been like a dream,” she said. “I don’t want to wake up.”
“Me neither. But the storms are calling you, right?” She’d been unusually focused on her computer earlier that night, and Roan had guessed that something interesting was going on in the skies.
“The weather is heating up again. Amos won’t even give me a clue, but I think Missouri is a good bet for tomorrow. Of course, there’s no law that says we have to leave.…”
“We can’t stay with your mom indefinitely. She’s been more than hospitable, but she must be getting pretty sick of us by now. Besides, this is your one chance this year to chase storms, and I don’t want to keep you from it. We’ll still have nights on the road, right?”
“Yeah.…”
He was instantly alert. “You don’t sound too sure about that.”
“It’s just that when we leave here, I’m afraid the spell will be broken. I guess that sounds silly.”
“As a matter of fact, it does.” He leaned up on one elbow so he could see her clearly. “Victoria, I craved your body before we got here, and I’ll still be craving it when we leave. You’re not Cinderella, I’m definitely not Prince Charming, and I don’t believe in magic spells. I want you in my bed whenever, wherever we happen to be.”
“And when the trip’s over? That’s only a few more days. What happens then?”
He took a deep breath, trying to think of something brilliant and p
rofound to sum up his feelings about that. In the end, he settled for “I don’t know.”
“I don’t either. It would be nice if one of us knew.”
“Can’t we just see how things go?”
“You mean, maybe we’ll be tired of each other by then, and we will have worried for nothing?”
Not in a million years. He didn’t think he could ever tire of Victoria, in or out of bed. She challenged and stimulated him in a way no other woman had.
But there were practical reasons why a long-term relationship between them wouldn’t work. He had obligations, assignments to be completed. He couldn’t drag her around with him to war zones and Amazonian treks even if she were willing, which of course she wouldn’t be. She had a job, a career, and it usually didn’t take her out of Lubbock, Texas.
He had to admit that for the first time in his life, the concept of a committed relationship didn’t seem like a threat. But a tiny aberration in his thinking didn’t mean he’d suddenly been given the temperament to stay with one woman the rest of his life. Finding out if he could do it was an appealing proposition, but he had no intention of using Victoria as a test.
He should tell her now that what they had together, no matter how wonderful it felt at the moment, was fleeting. They should simply enjoy it while they could. He needed to learn to live with himself before he could expect someone else to. Admittedly, that goal didn’t seem so out of reach anymore. But he was a long way from it.
If he was honest with her up front, she would be prepared for the inevitable parting. And so would he.
But somehow he simply couldn’t summon the words he needed. Instead, he held her closer and kissed the end of her nose. “Let’s let the future take care of itself, huh? Why waste time worrying, I always say.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Victoria said.
No, he was dead wrong. He knew he would spend every waking moment of the next five days worrying, wondering how he would say good-bye to her … how he could ever walk away from her.
TEN
Victoria put on a brave face as she closed up the back of the van and said good-bye to her mother. Despite Roan’s reassurances, she was worried about how things would go between them once they left the farm. He seemed edgy, and she wondered if he was tired of storm chasing, and maybe a little tired of her. They’d been with each other constantly for over a week.
Now that he’d captured a tornado on film, would he grow bored and antsy to move on to his next adventure? Now that he’d coaxed her into bed and discovered her most intimate secrets, was he ready to move on to his next conquest? Would their time together be reduced to nothing but memories and weather videotapes?
She knew she was being paranoid. Roan had given her no indication that he was in any way bored with her, and he’d made it quite clear he intended their intimacy to continue as long as they remained together.
But they couldn’t remain together once her vacation was over. Perhaps that was what troubled her most of all. During her weakest moments she kept trying to envision a lasting relationship with Roan.
She was spinning impossible dreams, she reminded herself time and again. Despite their obvious sexual compatibility, she and Roan weren’t suited to each other. He’d grown up with a father in the military who’d dragged him all over the globe, while she’d been raised on a Nebraska farm. They were at polar opposites when it came to politics; they couldn’t agree on movies. He loved to read thrillers, and she thrived on serious biographies. He would never understand her quiet fascination with meteorology, any more than she could relate to his death-defying adventures.
He smoked, for heaven’s sake.
Didn’t all the experts say that the happiest couples came from similar backgrounds, harbored similar tastes, established similar goals?
Even if she could look past their differences, there was one thing she couldn’t overlook: Roan didn’t value his own life. One of these days he was going to get himself killed, and she refused to be around when he did.
Dammit, she was not going to let all these depressing thoughts ruin the short time they had left together. This was one storm-chasing trip she would remember the rest of her days. Why mar it by mourning what could never be?
“We’re aiming for southeastern Missouri, right?” Roan said, breaking into her thoughts.
She pushed the unpleasant ruminations aside. “Yes. Ozark country. Not the best terrain for visibility, but we’ll have to live with it.”
“We’ll make better time if we head for Kansas City, then catch 69 South.”
Since they had a lot of miles to cover, Victoria agreed to his plan. He’d proven to be a good navigator, as Amos had guessed. She wondered if Amos had any idea just how good his nephew was at a number of skills, like …
“Are you going to tell Amos about what’s happened between us?” she asked suddenly.
Roan stared at her as if she’d just sprouted horns. “What, are you crazy? If there’s one thing in this world that scares me, it’s the thought of Uncle Amos with a shotgun aimed at my heart. I plan on dying in a much more exotic way.”
“Don’t talk like that,” she said sharply.
“What? Talk like what?”
“Don’t talk so casually about dying.”
“It’s a joke, Vic.”
“I don’t like it when you make light of death, especially yours.” To her horror, a rush of tears filled her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks. She pulled over to the side of the road and threw the van in park, then fumbled in her purse for a tissue. What was wrong with her?
Ah, hell, she knew what was wrong. She had fallen in love with Roan Cullen.
“Vic?” he said gently, running one finger up and down her sleeve. “Want to tell me what this is about?”
“I don’t like to think about people I care for, dying.”
“No one does,” he said gently. “But everyone has to die sooner or later. And I guess everyone is at least a little bit fearful of that last day on earth. Maybe joking about it is my way of pretending I’m not afraid.”
“Are you afraid?”
The seconds ticked by in silence, stretching out until it seemed as if time stood still. Indecision played about his handsome features. At last he answered. “Sometimes. Other times I think about the fact that at least it would end the speculation.”
And the pain, she wanted to add, although she knew he was already thinking the same thing. “I don’t even care to speculate,” she said instead.
Suddenly he smiled. “How did we ever get into such a morbid conversation? Look, I’m sorry if I upset you. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I’ll watch what I say.”
Victoria sighed. He just didn’t get it. She wasn’t worried about her feelings, she was worried about his attitude. She wanted him to value his own life as she valued hers. Maybe in some crazy way she’d believed that she’d given him hope for the future, and that’s why his cavalier words about dying had cut her so.
Silly. Did she think he might fall in love with her and magically transform? Did she dare hope she might give him something to live for?
That was exactly what she’d been hoping for, futilely, it seemed.
“I’m okay now,” she said, wiping away the last of her tears. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I must be tired … or something.” She reached for the ignition key, but he grasped her hand and stopped her.
“Vic, look at me.”
She couldn’t. She was too afraid he would read the truth in her eyes. He tilted her chin up until she had no choice but to meet his gaze. She did so defiantly.
“I’m not planning to clock out anytime soon, okay? Not when I’ve got nights with you to look forward to. When I’m with you, in bed, I feel safer than anywhere else on earth.”
His reassurance was hardly comforting. Sure, she’d given him a reason to live—for the rest of the week. But a man who challenged death on a regular basis would soon grow bored with feeling “safe” in her arms. And after s
he was gone from his life…?
Since there appeared to be no hope that he could understand her concerns, she pulled up a smile. She felt anything but safe when they made love. She felt open and fragile and far too vulnerable. But she wouldn’t tell him any of that.
“I’m just being weird, okay? Let’s forget it. Oh, and I agree about Amos. I don’t plan to tell him a thing, so you don’t have to worry about ducking those shotgun blasts.”
They drove hard for several more hours, but the day proved to be a wash.
“I say we hang it up early and buy a bucket of chicken for dinner,” she suggested. “This is great country for a picnic.”
They were on the northern edge of the Ozark Mountains. The gently rolling hills were awash with wildflowers and the temperature was mild. The puffy white clouds, although not good storm-producers, were pretty as they floated gently past like aimlessly grazing sheep in a field of blue. Victoria was glad that there were no tornadoes that evening. She wanted nothing more than to while away lazy hours with Roan, making daisy chains … making love.
Her gaze locked with his, and she knew he’d caught her with her lascivious thoughts. What was worse, she knew he was thinking along the same lines as she, and he wasn’t a bit ashamed. She felt her face growing hot with embarrassment as well as desire.
“Chicken sounds good,” he said mildly, but his wicked smile told her something else.
A few minutes later they found a roadside diner, which by some miracle featured fried chicken to go. With two box dinners filling the van with a delectable smell, Victoria drove out of town the same way they’d come. She remembered seeing a dirt road that meandered off the highway into a thicket of pine trees—perfect for their picnic.
The road was as she remembered it, a twisting, bumpy dirt path that challenged the van’s suspension. She silently apologized to Amos for abusing the Chasemobile.
At last she found the perfect spot, a flat area blanketed in pine needles, overlooking a gurgling creek. The afternoon sun filtered through the trees, covering the area in an ever-changing kaleidoscope of dappled sunlight. She pulled an old blanket from the back of the van and spread it out while Roan fished a couple of not-quite-cold canned drinks from the cooler they’d packed that morning.