“Are you okay? Do you need to go someplace?”
Her panicked expression took him by surprise, but it vanished quickly as if she caught herself. “Um…I just want to put the paint supplies away. The tent is small enough without trying to cram all the paint and brushes and canvases in there. And besides, the materials don’t smell great.”
This all made sense, but Owen could tell there was something more to it—like she didn’t want him to see what she painted. He could accept that—even understand it. Artists were temperamental that way. So rather than drag this out or question her, he reached into his pocket and took out the keys.
“Would you like me to go with you? It’s a bit of a walk, and it’s getting dark.”
Brooke shook her head even as she was already walking away quickly. “I won’t be long,” she called over her shoulder, and Owen was half expecting her to sprint away.
She didn’t.
She walked.
At a fast pace.
Rather than obsess on that, he moved around their campsite, taking out sandwiches and drinks and setting them up close to the fire. The temperature was going to cool once the sun went down, and though he couldn’t speak for Brooke, he knew he would enjoy eating by the fire and waiting for the stars to come out.
* * *
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” The clipped words matched her pace as she hurried to the Jeep. Honestly, she wouldn’t have minded Owen walking with her, but then he’d see what she was trying to hide.
Another painting of him.
What is wrong with me? she admonished herself. Twice in the past several weeks—and the only times she’d picked up a paintbrush—she’d ended up painting Owen. Today she painted him with the canyon as a backdrop as he looked through the telescope. She stopped, looked at the canvas, and sighed.
She’d captured him perfectly.
Again.
“Ugh…I have to stop doing this!” At the Jeep, she placed her supplies in the trunk, locked it, and quickly headed back toward the campsite. The sun was setting fast, and she wasn’t up for walking alone in the dark. As she walked by the public restroom, she stopped in to use it before going back to their site, and when she got there, she smiled at the scene before her.
Owen had a fire going and had spread a blanket over the nearby bench and set their dinner up on it. All in all it looked very romantic, and if she pushed her unease aside, she could allow herself to enjoy the moment and the effort Owen had put into it.
“It looks like dinner is served,” she said lightly as she walked over and sat down.
His smile was genuine, and Brooke was sorry she’d run off a few minutes before. Maybe he’d be flattered that she’d painted him… It was possible. The problem was that she was trying to wrap her own brain around why this man took her out of every comfort zone she had.
They ate in silence for a few minutes. It was just the two of them and the sounds of nature all around. The campground was relatively empty, and she wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse just yet.
“So are we going to see anything amazing in the sky tonight?” she asked.
“It’s too early in the month for the Lyrids or any shower, but we should be able to spot some of the constellations. It’s a perfect night for stargazing.”
She looked over at the tent. “Tom said this tent was made for that specifically—we’ll literally be sleeping under the stars. Do you think that’s true?”
“Technically, we sleep under the stars every night,” he began logically. “But with this particular tent, we’ll be able to see them as we’re lying down. It’s got a seamless mesh roof, so there isn’t anything to obstruct our view. Although…on a night like tonight, when there isn’t much activity, I’m not sure we’ll see anything impressive, but it’s still going to be a nice view.”
“What if it rains?”
He chuckled. “It’s not in the forecast, and it’s pretty rare to get rain in this part of the country. You know…the desert.”
She hung her head and laughed at herself. “Right. Forgot about that. Sorry.” And then she was embarrassed. At times like this she was extremely aware of the differences in their intellects. He was brilliant, a borderline genius, and she was just…Brooke. Nothing impressive about her at all. Average student. Average artist. Average woman.
“You’re wrong,” he murmured from beside her, his voice huskier than it had been a minute before.
Brooke looked up at him in confusion.
“There’s nothing average about you.”
Crap. Had she said that out loud? “I…I didn’t mean to say that. At least not out loud,” she admitted.
Taking her hand in his, he squeezed. “Why would you even think that about yourself?”
How could she even explain it? “For the most part, I’m okay with who I am. At least…now. I spent a lot of years struggling with it, but that was because my parents had groomed me to be someone I didn’t want to be. I’m finally at a point where I’m comfortable in my own skin, but there’s nothing…remarkable about me.”
“I disagree,” he said fiercely.
“It’s okay. I don’t think everyone has that…that certain something that makes them remarkable. You have a brilliant mind, Owen. That’s remarkable. People want to come and listen to you speak and just…glean something from your wisdom.” She shrugged. “I’m both intimidated by and in awe of that. And then I open my mouth and say something that is just completely…stupid.” She groaned. “And I want to just kick myself.”
“You didn’t say anything stupid…”
She made a face as she looked at him. “Seriously? I just asked about rain in the desert. You don’t think that’s stupid?”
He didn’t laugh or even crack a smile. “No, I don’t.”
“Owen…come on. You’re not going to insult me. I need you to be honest with me, just like you always are.”
“You want honest?” he asked, his voice gruff. He released her hand and cupped her cheek. “I love that you’re not sitting here trying to come up with the kind of conversation that you think I want to have. I love listening to you talk about your art and your painting. And as for your comment about the rain, I think it’s an honest concern considering we’re going to sleep in a tent with a mesh roof. There’s nothing stupid about it. And there is nothing average about you.”
“Owen—”
He didn’t stop there.
“I look at you, and I see an amazing woman—you’re smart and witty. You make everyone around you feel at ease. You have an amazing laugh, and when you smile, it makes me want to smile.” His thumb stroked her cheek as he spoke. “You move with the grace of a dancer, and no matter where we are or what we’re doing, you embrace the moment. You’re passionate and kind and giving.”
Then he moved closer. Close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek.
“And you’re someone I feel very honored to know. And someone I want to know better.” He swallowed hard. “And I want you very much.”
Brooke let out a shaky breath. “I want you too. So much it scares me.”
“I told you…you never have to be scared of me, Brooke. Ever.”
“I can’t help it,” she whispered. “You’re…you’re so much more than I expected.”
He rested his forehead against hers and brushed her lips with his. “And you’re everything.”
And then she was lost. Everything in her life seemed to lead her to this moment with this man. It was foolish to deny the attraction or the need for him that was close to consuming her. And she couldn’t think of a more perfect time and place for them than right here and right now.
With a steadying breath, Brooke stood and held out her hand to him. Wordlessly, he took it. It wasn’t smooth or graceful. In fact, it was a little bit awkward. But once they were inside the tent with the door zipped shut,
it all changed. She raked a hand up into his thick hair and pulled him down on the padded floor with her. With his weight deliciously on top of her, her arms went around him, and all she could think was… Perfect.
This was them.
This was their moment.
Under a sky full of stars.
Chapter 7
Owen wasn’t prone to fantasies.
He was a realist through and through.
But this? The feel of Brooke wrapped around him was exactly what he’d fantasized about.
Only better.
Every touch of her hand, every sigh of her breath served to arouse him. He kissed her like a man who was starved and she was the feast. He touched her like a man who had been deprived of contact for too long. And he held her close—because she was the lifeline he needed to give him everything he’d ever wanted.
Knowing he had a tendency to stay too long in his head and overanalyze everything, he chose to focus on what he was feeling.
Warm, smooth skin.
Soft, wet mouth.
Yeah, that served to ratchet his arousal up a notch—or ten. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself, so he moved on to focus on what he was hearing.
Soft sighs.
His name in a breathless whisper.
And the sound of nature after dark.
If anyone had ever asked him where the perfect place was to make love to a woman, he would have thought the correct response would be in a soft bed surrounded by candlelight. And he would have been wrong. Because this…this tent with the mesh roof in the middle of Red Rock Canyon was the perfect place for him to make love to this woman.
Brooke.
As if reading his thoughts, she opened her eyes and looked up at him, a slow smile blossoming on her face. Her every emotion was right there in her eyes, and what he saw there humbled him. The trust, the desire.
“Owen?” she whispered.
“Yes?”
Her smile grew as she arched her back and pressed more firmly against him. “I want to feel you…touch you—”
Rearing back, he tugged off his shirt and grinned when she took advantage of the space between them and did the same. And then she pulled him closer and they were finally skin to skin.
Perfect.
* * *
“If you look over to your right, the constellation of Virgo, or Virgo the Maiden, can be seen.”
“Are you sure? I don’t see it.”
Owen tucked her in close beside him. “Look just past the tip of my finger, and you can make it out. Or we can get the telescope and set it up—”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to move from this spot.” Then she snuggled even closer.
He was more than ready to say that he was wrong—that there wasn’t anything in the sky for them to see—and make love to her again, but he didn’t. This was something that felt right—looking up at the sky and talking about what they were seeing as their skin cooled and their heart rates returned to normal.
“Did you know Virgo is the second-largest constellation in the sky? Or that it looks a little bit like a sun lounger?”
“A sun lounger?” she repeated with a giggle. “Really?”
“Can you see it?” he asked softly, tracing the pattern in the sky.
“I think I see it. Is it near that bright star?” Pointing up at the sky, Brooke rested her hand on his and lowered them until they were both resting on his chest.
“Yes, it’s by that bright star. Actually, Virgo can be easily located through its brightest star Spica—which is the fifteenth-brightest star in the night sky.” Realistically, he could give a thirty-minute lecture on Virgo but didn’t think it was the greatest postcoital conversation, so rather than keeping his focus on it, he opted to move on.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Nope. The temperature is perfect.”
“Are you hungry? We never finished our dinner.”
He could feel her smile against his shoulder. “I wouldn’t say no to some chocolate, but I can wait.”
“I have a bottle of water over here if you’d—”
“Owen?”
“Hmm?”
“Stop talking.”
He smiled, kissed the top of her head, and listened to the sounds of the night that surrounded them. It was peaceful. Tranquil. And…too damn quiet. The quiet had never bothered Owen before, but right now it was making him uncomfortable. He wanted to talk to her or listen to her talk.
Or sigh.
Or purr his name as he kissed every inch of her again.
But he was afraid to do that. He wasn’t sure if there was a required wait time between the act of making love and then making love again. Maybe it was too soon. Or maybe she might not want to because she was tired or—God forbid—she didn’t enjoy it the first time.
Well, damn. That was a depressing thought. And how was he supposed to know for sure? It couldn’t possibly be polite to just come right out and ask if she enjoyed it—or if he had performed all right.
Even though it was what he was dying to do.
Previous experience hadn’t prepared him for such a scenario. One time and then…done. He’d never had the desire to catch his breath and dive back in for another round. And Owen knew if Brooke gave even the slightest of hints that she was interested, he’d be more than willing to go again.
And again and again.
With a quiet sigh, he focused on the sky again and saw a shooting star. It wasn’t overly bright, but his eye was trained to see them. It was already fading, so he didn’t mention it to Brooke, but he did notice that there were several bright stars in the sky tonight, not just Spica. It would probably be best for him to cool his libido by discussing the facts he knew about all of the stars and what made some brighter than others, what their names were and…
Wait. Did Brooke just shift? Were those her lips on his shoulder? He went still—almost to the point of not breathing—and waited. A slow grin tugged at his lips. She was kissing his shoulder…and one slim leg was rubbing against his until they were tangled together. One of her hands was roaming over his chest—so warm and smooth—and he held in a groan of pleasure.
The hell with that, he thought. Why withhold it? He wanted her. Wanted her to know how much he wanted her. And the last time, she had taken the initiative, leading him to the tent and pulling him down to the bedding. This time…well, this time he wanted—needed—to be the one to take the initiative.
In the blink of an eye, he rolled her over and had her pinned beneath him. She gasped and then let out a laugh of pure joy—the light from the moon was bright enough that he could see her smile and the gleam of pleasure in her eyes.
“I’ve been mentally talking to myself about the stars in the sky,” he murmured.
“Is that what you wanted to talk about?” she asked sweetly.
Owen shook his head. “No. It’s not.”
“What did you want to talk about?”
Rather than answer, he dipped his head, nipped at the swell of her breast, and smiled when she gasped again. He soothed the spot with his tongue and breathed in the scent of her. She said his name, and he remembered she’d asked him a question.
“I want to talk about how you taste,” he murmured against her skin, surprising himself with this kind of sexy talk. She purred at his admission. Encouraged, he tried again. “And how soft you are…all over.” Another purr, and her hips began to move beneath him.
Fascinating.
“But most of all, I want to talk about how much I crave you again,” he growled and then Brooke fisted his hair in her hands and pulled him down for a kiss that was just this side of brutal.
Which was fine.
He was done talking anyway.
* * *
It wasn’t easy, but Brooke ma
naged to keep her painting hidden from Owen, and when they got back to the hotel the next morning, she made arrangements to ship it home. Then they returned to the hotel room to pack up.
“It’s still kind of early,” she said as she put the last of her things in her suitcase. “Did you have anything planned for the day? Did you need to look over anything else with Tom?”
Owen was standing by the window and looking out at the scenery. He shook his head. “I think the helicopter tour and camping last night gave me sufficient data on what to expect.”
He didn’t turn to look at her as he spoke, and his voice was slightly stilted. It was very unlike him, and yet it was how he’d sounded all morning. Quiet. Detached. And it made her heart sink. Was he regretting making love with her? Was he uncomfortable with the turn in their relationship and how he was stuck spending the day with her and traveling with her tonight? And now that she thought about it, he hadn’t touched her or even tried to since they woke up. She’d imagined they’d come back to the room and shower together and maybe make love in the bed. But once she’d returned from shipping the canvas, she’d found Owen had already showered and dressed.
Oh God, she thought. How in the world could she possibly get herself out of this?
Swallowing the panic, she zipped her bag closed and forced a smile onto her face. If he needed time alone, she’d let him have it. “I’m going to check my bag downstairs at bell services and go tour the Bellagio. That was one of the hotels I was really curious about.” She turned quickly to grab her bag.
She never heard him approach.
“Wait… What… Are you upset with me?” he asked, his brows drawn together. His hand had gently grasped her arm, and his appearance right in front of her took her by surprise.
Brooke shook her head. “No!” She paused and forced herself to calm down. “Of course not. You just seemed like…” She shrugged. “You seemed like you wanted to be alone, so I was giving you a bit of a break from me. We’ve been together for two days straight.” Then she chuckled. “More than that actually. I just figured I’d go out and play tourist so you could have some time to yourself.”
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