by Laura Moore
She focused on the first because the second made her too happy. “Yeah, well, she’s working awfully hard to make you care, isn’t she?” She brought her hands together and turned slightly toward him. When she spoke she made her voice go gooey with admiration. “Oh, Ward, I’ve never seen anyone ride like that. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been able to grab Ziggy’s reins and slow him down.”
He shot her a glance that was a mix of irritation and amusement. “Knock it off.”
Her voice turned even more treacly. “Yes, Ward, I’ll do anything you say, Ward.”
“So, what would you have liked me to do, let Ziggy run off with her?”
“Yeah,” she admitted. Abandoning her cloying tone, she slumped back into the padded leather of the front seat. God, she hated being jealous, but she couldn’t seem to shake it or temper her dislike for Erica—not even when she could see qualities to admire in her. “And maybe she could have run into Sasquatch and he could have made her his mate, kind of like in King Kong.”
“I don’t think Sasquatch would have her. Too high maintenance.”
Tess didn’t think so, either, but she refused to abandon her funk. “Wouldn’t work anyway since she’d probably figure out a way to get you to rescue her from Sasquatch, too. Porca puttana,” she muttered under her breath.
“You know, you are incredibly sexy when you get all Italian fishwifey.”
She tossed her head. “Save the sweet talk for Erica. I have a headache.”
Suddenly Ward pulled off the road. As the wheels bounced over a rutted dirt drive, she looked around her in surprise, seeing nothing but the gnarled limbs of trees softened by fuzzy spots of bright green leaves beginning to unfurl. “Hey, where are we going?”
“A little nature appreciation.”
“Oh, please, after Bambi and friend made their appearance on the trail, I think I’ve appreciated all the nature I need to for today.”
He didn’t answer but merely grinned as he negotiated the ruts and potholes left by the spring rains. Ahead, Tess saw a clearing, a meadow filled with tall grass and delicate yellow wildflowers. Then beyond, nothing but sky.
She opened her mouth to repeat her question, but Ward had already turned onto the field, cut the ignition, and opened his door. Moving quickly, he circled around to her side. Pulling open her door, he held out his hand. She could hear the sound of the surf now, a slow rumbling roll followed by the thunderous crash of waves slamming the rocks. The meadow ended in a cliff overlooking the sea. Searching, her eyes met his, and a thrill shot through her at the intensity of his blue-green-gold-chipped gaze.
He took her hand. Wordlessly he led her around to the front of the Jeep and backed her against the hood and lifted her onto it. The warmth of the engine penetrated her cotton skirt. He moved closer, stepping between her legs, which of their own volition opened in a V of welcome.
“God, you’re beautiful.”
“As beautiful as Gina Lollobrigida?”
“Gina who?” He frowned. “Christ, Tess, you’re more beautiful than any movie star or celebrity. You’re you. Unique. And you drive me crazy with need.”
“Good answer.”
They stared at each other, the excitement building as surely as the heat flaring between their bodies. The sea air around them seemed charged. Heavy with moisture, it caressed. She stilled, waiting for his next move while her heart revved with wild joy.
Deliberately, he lowered his hands to the hood on either side of her hips. Leaning over her he brushed his mouth against hers, then caught her lower lip with his teeth, nipping lightly. The teasing bite had her mouth opening with a ragged moan of need that he fed with a sure thrust of his tongue that dove deep into her mouth. He kissed her with a hunger that was fierce, dark, and wonderful.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, aware that her hands were gripping his button-down shirt, clutching it like a lifeline.
“What I’ve been dreaming of doing for about thirty-six hours.”
“You’ve been dreaming of kissing me on the hood of your car for thirty-six hours?” she was amazed she could tease him while her body was on fire for him, every cell of her being seeming to cry out for his touch, his possession.
“I’ve been dreaming of kissing you on a car, in a saddle, in a bathtub, against a barn, you name the place, and you and I have been there—and doing a whole lot more than just kiss. I’ve missed you, Tess. If you shut up, I’ll be happy to show you how much.” His hands had slipped beneath her skirt to travel slowly up her thighs. The touch of his work-roughened palms made her simultaneously melty and twitchy, which sounded weird but felt spectacular, like nothing else in the world.
She wrapped a hand about his wrist, halting his progress. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?”
“Most definitely.” His other hand, the one free to roam, flirted with the elastic of her panties, dancing along the inside of her thigh. She fought the urge to squirm, to pant, to give him anything he wanted.
“Here—where anyone can come across us?”
“Not a lot of folks out here.” The tip of his finger brushed her curls, and her damp flesh strained, desperate for contact.
“I don’t want you to think I’m easy.” Which was funny since she was ready to do just about anything to have his hands caressing her, to have his mouth devouring her, to have his solid weight pressing down on her, and his rock hard heat filling her.
His mouth moved to her ear and, tracing the curve of it, hit a couple thousand erogenous zones in one slow lick. “You, easy? If only.” He laughed. His breath, a warm cloud against her damp skin, set another frothy wave of pleasure rolling through her. “Had you been remotely easy I would have figured out how to have my satisfyingly wicked way with you about fifteen minutes after you drove up in that sputtering wreck.”
His touch was driving her straight toward bliss. Hearing his words, happiness flooded her. “So you already liked me back then?”
“There were parts of you I liked immediately. I’d be happy to give a guided tour right now, showing you each and every one. But first let me set your mind at ease. You made it quite clear that you were not easy. I can only tell you how very grateful I am that you’ve relented even a bit. Now, darling, would you mind slipping off those panties?”
She declined with a slow shake of her head, electing instead to lean back with her elbows propped on the hood. Then she smiled. “Why don’t you do it instead?” She paused and added in a whisper, “With your teeth.”
Darkness had settled over the ranch by the time they returned. Ward parked by his house and together he and Tess walked along the path to her cabin. He held her hand. Their progress was leisurely. He often slowed their pace even further, bringing her to a stop so he could kiss her lingeringly.
After their passionate interlude by the cliff, the raw hunger that had driven him had mellowed to a slow savoring. But each kiss, each taste of Tess’s sweetness, was like a distillation of what they’d shared. It reminded him of the strength of her legs wrapped around his pumping hips as he thrust deep inside her in a rhythm as elemental as the ocean just beyond the cliffs, of her hands clutching him close, urging him on while her inner muscles clenched his straining cock. His heart had pounded at the beauty of her expression, at the sight of her dark eyes bright with joy and desire and passion.
The memory of her touching him, too, was equally vivid. She really had driven him crazy, cupping his balls and stroking his shaft as her mouth wreaked its own hot mayhem, licking and nibbling him until he was ready to explode from the need to plunge into the wet warmth of her body.
Even at its rawest and raunchiest, making love with Tess was like poetry. Fucking poetry.
With an inward grin, he decided not to share this observation. Tess might not recognize it for the sincere compliment it was.
Damn, this woman made him happy.
His happiness had become crystalline when Tess came in his arms, crying his name in a shattered voice. A
s she trembled from the aftershocks of her orgasm, only his soft kisses, easy murmurs, and gentle petting could restore her. At that moment, he’d felt not only happy, but also essential.
This time when he raised their clasped hands to press a kiss against the delicate ridge of her knuckles, he saw a flash of white in the deepening gloom. She was smiling—as happy as he was.
“You sure you won’t come to dinner tonight?” he asked, kissing her hand again before lowering it.
She shook her head. “No. I know Carrie and Brian would be okay with it—they’re so easygoing. But for you to have to explain my presence to Erica at a dinner that’s social rather than wedding-related, well, that would just be awkward. I think I’ll turn in early. It’s been an action-packed day.”
“That it has.”
He could kiss her until she changed her mind about dinner. As tempting as the plan was, he abandoned it. She was right about how Erica would behave, and he wanted to protect her from Erica’s antagonism—an antagonism that would be that much more pointed if Ward forgot himself, as well he might following the kind of afternoon he and Tess had shared.
He wouldn’t be able to see her face lit by the table’s candles and resist reaching out and tucking a silken bang behind her ear: a casual touch, but one that would scream possession to any who witnessed it. He didn’t want to deal with Erica anymore this weekend.
He squeezed her hand as he came to a halt. “They’ll be gone tomorrow.” The comment was as much for him as for Tess. He loved Brian and Carrie but he wanted them gone so he could have Tess to himself. Angling his head he covered her mouth and kissed her slowly, thoroughly. When he drew back, they were both breathing a little raggedly. “How’s the headache?” he asked, skimming the side of her face with his free hand.
She gave a little smile. “What headache?”
His own smile spread. “I’m that good, huh?”
“Maybe it’s that I’m that good.”
“That you are, Tess Casari.”
She rose onto her tiptoes and kissed him. “Glad you’ve been paying attention.”
“Very close attention,” he said, slipping an arm around her back and drawing her close. He lowered his head to kiss her until they both forgot the need to breathe.
A voice in the dark stopped him. “Ward, is that you?” Erica said. “So you’re back. We were beginning to wonder. Brian and Carrie sent me out to find you.”
Ward doubted that very much. He stepped back, but kept a hold of Tess’s hand. Erica had interrupted a private moment. After her idiotic behavior this weekend—she couldn’t really believe there was a snowball’s chance in hell that he and she would ever get back together—he was damned if he was going to pretend Tess wasn’t important to him. Maybe now she would recognize the futility of her campaign.
He was still steamed at the stunt she’d pulled, demanding Jim switch horses for her when he wasn’t around to put the kibosh on her riding Ziggy. His anger was directed at himself as much as at her. He should have insisted she ride Nate, who had been out more than Ziggy the previous week and so would have been less likely to spook. Being far lazier than Ziggy, Nate certainly wouldn’t have taken off down the trail at a gallop. Or continued for nearly as long.
Ward could only thank God no one had gotten hurt because he’d let Erica have her way.
Tess spoke. “I should go, Ward. I need to call my parents before it’s too late for them.”
“Okay.” Reluctantly he released her hand.
He could feel Erica’s sharp gaze penetrating the gloom. He knew that his shirt was still untucked and Tess’s hair looked like a family of squirrels had taken up residence in it. Her skirt was a little worse for wear, too, he thought with a smile. Busy as he’d been dragging off her panties with his teeth and then kissing his way back up her naked legs, he hadn’t bothered to remove her skirt (probably for the best, as they’d been making love out in the open). It had as many wrinkles as a crumpled piece of paper.
Were only half the evidence of what he and Tess had been up to this afternoon visible, Erica might well ask herself why she’d never emerged so rumpled and disheveled following a bout of sex with him. Good question, and one Ward would have been more than happy to answer. It was because she’d never inspired anything close to the white-hot passion Tess ignited in him with a single sultry look.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Tess said. “Phil will be here at eight-thirty to meet with Carrie about the guest list.”
“Right.” He didn’t want her to go. “You’ve got dinner?”
“Jeff boxed up some leftovers from the wedding menu. Best doggie bag ever,” she told him cheerfully. “Bye, Erica.”
The evening air was nowhere near as chilly as Erica’s voice. “Goodbye.”
He listened to her footsteps recede down the path and thought of how much he’d enjoy eating leftovers with Tess in her cabin. But he couldn’t ditch Brian and Carrie on their last night.
“Are you going to the guest lodge?” Erica asked.
He hadn’t forgotten Erica was standing there, watching him watch Tess. He’d merely hoped that if he ignored her she’d go away. “No, I have to change.”
“Do you mind if I come to your house? There’s something I’d like to say. It’s important.”
His parents hadn’t raised him to be rude or openly insulting to women. And he needed to remember that at one point he’d thought Erica should be his wife. He should be nice to her out of gratitude for disabusing him of that foolish plan.
“I can spare a few minutes.”
He entered the house and flipped on the interior lights by the front door and gestured for Erica to precede him. As she stepped inside the living room, she glanced about, surveying it.
“It’s just as I remember. You haven’t changed it. I’m glad,” she said.
He remained silent. He could care less what she thought of his décor.
He dropped his keys in a shallow red and black ceramic bowl that a local potter his mother admired had made. The discordant jangle of the metal rang in the space left by his silence.
Erica turned toward him. She’d already dressed for dinner in a dark blue dress that hugged her slender frame. Her gaze flicked over him, and the fine lines around her eyes deepened as she saw the evidence of the afternoon’s activities. He remembered Tess grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and tugging him down to cover her, and he bit back a smile.
“Ward, I wanted to apologize again for insisting I ride Ziggy. It was foolish of me. I think I overestimated my skills. And I’m so sorry about Ziggy coming up lame. But he seemed better after the ice was applied. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”
He nodded. It was pointless telling her that the numbness from the ice was probably what had made Ziggy’s leg feel better. Tomorrow morning would be the real test. As for her claim that she’d already apologized for her idiotic behavior, he didn’t recall her actually saying anything remotely contrite—there had just been a lot of noise coming from her mouth. At least she was making the attempt now.
She’d been standing before him with her hands clasped, a pose that reminded him of a schoolgirl sent before the teacher. At his nod she smiled in relief and stepped forward, her hand outstretched.
“Thank you for being so understanding,” she said, touching his arm lightly. “I know that if you hadn’t been so quick to react, things might have gone very badly.”
Now she was back to repeating the ridiculous comments she’d made earlier about his quick reflexes and valor. The only reason he’d been the first to go after her was that, unlike Reid, Ward had actually witnessed the events unfold like a row of dominoes knocking one another over, ending with Ziggy bolting, Canada-bound.
He shifted his stance slightly so that her hand no longer had contact with his arm. “I accept your apology. If that’s all, Erica—”
“Actually, I do have something else I wanted to say. It’s about us. This weekend has made me realize that my foolishness extends to more than switching h
orses. I made a terrible mistake when I broke off our engagement, Ward. I’m so sorry that I threw away what we had. I’m even sorrier that I hurt you.”
Oh, shit. He’d be lying if he said there hadn’t been a period following Erica’s walking out on him when he had imagined scenarios in which she would come back, her blue eyes swimming in tears of remorse, to ask his forgiveness and admit to a change of heart.
The reality wasn’t nearly as sweet as the imagining. Because the possibility of their ever reuniting was a chimera—he recognized it as such even if Erica wasn’t willing to admit the reality. He’d learned too much about her and, more important, too much about himself to believe it would ever work. He wanted a woman he could trust, heart and soul.
“Erica, you’re getting caught up in the emotion of Carrie and Brian’s wedding plans. It’s too late—”
“I’m not, and it’s not too late. I know it isn’t. Especially now that I’ve had a chance to see things more clearly. I was stupid to take what we had for granted, not to recognize how special it was, how wonderful you are. But I’m going to make it up to you.”
“What about that guy you were with?”
“What? Oh, Landon? He wasn’t right for me.”
So it hadn’t worked out between Erica and her high-tech mogul, Ward thought. That would explain why she was suddenly impressed with his supposed virtues.
“Listen, Erica, this idea of yours, that somehow we can get back together, is frankly delusional. It won’t work. We can’t go back, and even if you’re no longer in a relationship, I am.”
“You mean with Tess? But Ward, what you and I had—it was real, not some office fling. Tess, well …” She gave the smallest of dismissive shrugs. “She’s not right for you.”
He could have replied that if what Erica and he had together was so real, why, then, had she walked away from the engagement? He could have added, too, that for him, being with Tess actually felt a damned sight more “real” than what he’d “shared” with Erica, which was kind of interesting since Tess went out of her way to insist that she had no interest in a serious relationship with him.