"Maggie … about last night…"
She held her breath, praying he wasn't about to tell her he was sorry that he had kissed her, that it was a huge mistake he now regretted. "Yes?"
Catching her other arm, he drew her to him. "Last night was … special." He gave her arms a squeeze. "You're special."
She stared, not trusting her ears.
Ducking his head, he set his jaw, as if he had more to say, but was having a hard time saying it.
"I never talk about my family," he said hesitantly. "I guess because the memories are just too painful. Especially those of my mother." He looked up at her. "You're the first person I've ever told about her. The first one I felt would understand what it was like. I just want you to know how much that meant to me, how much I appreciated you listening."
At the time, Maggie had thought she'd realized how difficult it was for him. Sharing his emotions, baring his soul … that kind of openness would be foreign to a man like Ace. But she understood now what a monumental step that had been for him. She also knew that in talking about his mother and his past, he'd made a giant step toward healing his heart. A heart she prayed would open wide enough to accept Laura.
Hoping to encourage him to continue that healing process, she took a step closer and opened her hands over his chest. "I'm here, Ace. Any time you need to talk, I'm willing to listen."
He nodded. "I appreciate that." He seemed to hesitate a moment, then arched a brow and looked up at her over it. "I was kind of hoping you'd be interested in doing more than just listening."
She tensed, unsure of his meaning.
His smile tentative, he drew her to his chest. "Last night was special for another reason. We'd be good together. I think we both saw the proof of that."
"Y-yes. I suppose we did."
He frowned, as if only now considering the complications. "This could get dicey."
She wet her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. "If we were to allow it to, yes, I suppose it could."
He backed up a step, holding her far enough away that he could see her face. "I'm not looking to get married again."
She gulped, but nodded. "Me, either."
"And I travel all the time, rarely home for more than a week or so before I take off on another assignment."
"My studies keep me busy."
A smile spread slowly across his face. "Sounds to me like we have us a match made in heaven."
Before she could agree or disagree, he dipped his head over hers. Whatever doubts she may have harbored melted at the touch of his lips. Sliding her arms around his neck, she gave herself up to him.
Not only did their expectations align perfectly, she discovered, their bodies did, as well. Lips, chests, hips, thighs. Her curves molded against his body as naturally as if she'd been designed solely for that purpose.
His kiss, tender at first, as if testing, exploring, became more urgent, demanding. He ran his hands down her sides, then up again, bringing her T-shirt up with them. The pressure of his thumbs against the swell of her breasts was a delicious pleasure that made her nipples knot, aching for his touch.
Without warning, he tore his mouth from hers and looked toward the back door.
"Damn," he swore. "They're here."
Dazed, she blinked up at him. "Who's here?"
He reached for his shirt. "My brothers. Remember? They're coming to round up cattle today."
Before she could fully absorb what he was telling her, he dropped a kiss on her mouth, then grinned and shot her a wink. "We'll finish this later."
The back door opened and Maggie whirled, quickly snatching her shirt into place; sure that the word guilty was emblazoned across her forehead.
"'Bout time you boys showed up," Ace said, as he tucked his shirttail into his jeans, seemingly unfazed by the fact that his brothers had nearly caught him necking with the nanny in the kitchen. He lifted a hand to point at the first man through the door.
"The ugly one there," he said to Maggie, "is Dr. Ryland Tanner, better known around here as Ry."
Giving Ace a go-to-hell look, Ry peeled off his stained cowboy boot and tapped it against his thigh, as he nodded a terse greeting to Maggie. "Pleased to meet you."
"And this one," Ace said, catching the second one to enter in a headlock before he had a chance to fully clear the threshold, "is Woodrow." With every muscle in his neck standing out in relief as he strained to maintain the hold on his brother, Ace gasped out, "Remember? I told you about him."
Wide-eyed, Maggie stared. "Y-yes. The one who wrote the book on stubbornness."
With a low growl, Woodrow bent at the waist, dragging Ace across his back, then came up with a bear-like roar, throwing his muscled arms wide.
"Stubborn, hell," he growled, flicking Ace off his back as if he were nothing more than a pesky fly. He hooked a thumb in Ace's direction. "He's the stubborn one. Me? I'm just cantankerous."
Rendered speechless by the display of strength she'd just witnessed, Maggie gulped. "I—it's nice to meet you, Woodrow."
He scooped a handful of biscuits from the tray on the island and popped one into his mouth. "Same here," he said around a mouthful, as he strode past her.
Winded, Ace smoothed his hair back into place, then gestured to the man who stood just inside the door, his back braced against the wall. "The shy, quiet one over there in the corner? That's Whit."
Realizing that the attention was directed his way, Whit whipped off his cowboy hat and snapped to attention, his cheeks reddening. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am."
Maggie smiled—warmly this time—enchanted by Whit's shy manners. "The pleasure's mine," she assured him.
Ace glanced over as Rory closed the back door behind him. "And this one," he said, with a careless wave, "you already know."
Relieved to see a familiar face—and a friendly one, at that—in the roomful of strangers, Maggie extended her hand. "Hey, Rory. It's good to see you again."
Rory let out a whoop and, ignoring the offered hand, scooped her up and off her feet.
"Not nearly as good as it is to see you," he cried, all but squeezing the breath out of her in a rib-cracking hug. Planting her on her feet again, he dropped a kiss full on her mouth, then lifted his head and sniffed the air. "Is that sausage I smell?"
Maggie pressed a hand against her forehead, her head spinning dizzily. "Yes. And biscuits and gravy, too, if you're hungry."
Rory scrubbed his hands together, then pushed his arms out, as if to hold his brothers back. "Stand aside, boys, or be trampled. I'm fixin' to do me some serious grazin'."
He hadn't taken a full step toward the table, when Ace clamped a hand around his arm.
"Not now you're not," he growled. "We're headin' out."
Maggie looked at Ace, surprised by the anger in his voice.
Rory jerked free. "Who put the burr under your saddle?"
Snatching his cowboy hat from the rack by the door, Ace rammed it over his head. "Nobody. Now get your butt movin'. All of you. We've got work to do."
"But Ace," Maggie cried. "What about breakfast?"
Ace snatched open the door. "They came to work, not to eat," he muttered.
Woodrow, Ry and Whit dutifully followed Ace out the door. Rory headed for the island and the platters of food Maggie had left there.
"Who the hell does he think he is?" he grumbled, as he stuffed sausages into a stack of split biscuits. "Tellin' me what I can and can't do like I was still a snotty-nosed kid." He dumped the biscuits onto a napkin and brought the ends of the cloth up, tied them in a knot. "Well, we'll see whose butt is still movin' at the end of the day," he said smugly. Palming the napkin, he turned for the door, but skidded to a stop when he saw Maggie's stricken face.
"Now don't you go worrying that pretty little head of yours," he told her in that slow drawl of his. "I'm not plannin' on killin' him." He crossed to the door, opened it, then glanced back. "But I can't make any promises as to what that horse he's riding has in mind for him." Grinning, he shot her a wink
and stepped outside, then shouted, "Hey, wait up! Y'all aren't leaving without me!" and slammed the door behind him.
With a shake of her head, Maggie crossed to the window, watching as Rory jogged toward the barn, where the others were already mounting their horses. As she did, she wondered if Rory's shout of "Y'all aren't leaving without me!" was one pulled straight from his childhood. She could imagine him, the youngest, always having to run to catch up with his older and bigger brothers.
And she could imagine, too, Ace ordering the others to wait while their little brother ran to catch up.
So what was with Ace's anger? she asked herself, still puzzled by it. Why had he been so rude to Rory, even refusing him the time to grab a bite to eat?
Unable to come up with a reasonable explanation, she focused her gaze on the brothers, as they prepared to ride out. Though they all shared a few physical traits in common, each was unique unto himself. Woodrow was definitely the largest, both in breadth and height. Remembering his claim of being cantankerous, she shuddered, doubting anyone would argue the point with him. He was cantankerous and scary to boot.
But Ry wasn't exactly Captain Sunshine, she thought, shifting her gaze to study him, though she suspected his surliness was due to impatience. She'd clued into his level of impatience immediately, noticing the tense way he held his mouth and the nervous way he tapped his hat against his thigh. And he was unhappy—or, at the very least, dissatisfied. How she knew that, she wasn't sure. Maybe it was the constant frown he wore. But what she didn't know was what made him unhappy.
A movement had her shifting her gaze away from Ry. Her heart softened a bit, as she saw Whit leading his horse off to the side, still a part of the group, yet slightly removed from the immediate circle of brothers. Was it his status as step-brother that placed him on the perimeter? she wondered. If so, were his brothers the ones who relegated him to the position of outsider or was it Whit, himself, who placed him there?
The dynamics were definitely interesting to consider, Maggie decided, as she watched the brothers turn their horses for the pasture.
She chuckled as she watched Rory swing himself up into the saddle and take out after the others, but grew thoughtful again, as she remembered Ace's rude treatment of him. Ace had greeted the others with a smile and a little good-natured roughhousing. But not so with Rory. The minute Rory had stepped through the back door, Ace had lit into him. And, as far as Maggie had been able to determine, Rory had done nothing to deserve his anger.
Had something happened between the two years before? she wondered. Something they'd never resolved and carried with them into adulthood?
Or could Ace possibly be jealous?
Intrigued by that possibility, she focused on Ace, in the lead. He rode with his hips slightly lifted and the balls of his feet planted firmly in the stirrups, distributing his weight evenly over the horse's back. Though a shirt covered his back now, she could well imagine him without it, her hands splayed over the pads of muscle, as they had been only short minutes before.
We'd be good together…
Shivering, she pressed her fingers against the glass, as if to reach out to him. Touch him.
Yes, they'd be good together, she thought. She didn't have a doubt about that.
But at what price?
She wouldn't allow a man to control her life again, no matter how tempting she found that man. And she would never jeopardize Laura's security and happiness for her own personal gain.
A match made in heaven? she asked herself, remembering Ace's words.
Or one destined for heartbreak?
* * *
Seven
« ^ »
Maggie had no idea what time to expect Ace and his brothers to return from rounding up the cattle. Rather than twiddle her thumbs, waiting—or wringing her hands and pacing, which was what she was afraid she might do—she filled her day doing the week's laundry and housework, mundane chores that unfortunately gave her way too much time to think of Ace and his last words to her.
We'll finish this later.
Since, prior to him making the comment, they'd been locked in a kiss, she had to believe that by this he'd meant the kiss. What haunted her was how he intended to finish it. The possibilities were endless, and each one she considered left her shivering in anticipation.
But as the clock slowly clicked away the minutes and hours, doubt crept in, her emotions running the gamut from breathless excitement to gut-wrenching fear.
Did she really want to get involved in a physical relationship with a man? she asked herself, as she rocked Laura to sleep for the night. After ending her disastrous marriage, she'd sworn off men, promising herself she'd never become dependent on another one for as long as she lived. But she was older now, she told herself. Wiser. She was aware of the pitfalls of dependency and knew that the amount of control she allowed a man to have over her life was up to her to establish … or withhold altogether.
But what about Laura? she worried next. How would Maggie's involvement with Ace affect the baby's future? Though she studied the possibilities from all conceivable angles, she couldn't think of a single way a relationship between the two could harm the baby.
With her concerns resolved for the moment, she continued to rock slowly back and forth, Laura having fallen asleep in her arms long ago. Without the lamp on, shadows draped the nursery. Worried that it would be dark soon, Maggie glanced out the window, but couldn't see anything six feet beyond the glass.
Hearing footsteps coming down the hall, she pressed a foot against the floor, stilling the rocker, and glanced toward the door, listening.
Oh, God, she thought, her panic returning. It had to be Ace.
Then he was there. In the doorway. His shoulders filling the space. Due to the lack of illumination, she couldn't see his face. Only his shape.
"Is she asleep?"
His voice, husky and deep, washed over her, a soothing balm to her burning nerves.
"Yes," she whispered. "Did y'all find all the cattle?"
"Most of 'em, I hope. We herded 'em all up to the north pasture where there's plenty of grass and water." He seemed to hesitate a moment, then asked. "Is she ready to put down?"
Maggie nodded, then rose and carried the baby to the crib to lay her down. Her sleep disturbed, Laura whimpered. Maggie leaned over the side of the crib, murmuring softly to her, patting her, until the infant had settled again.
She sensed Ace's presence beside her and glanced up. Their gazes met, her hesitation melting beneath the blue heat of his. Without a word, he took her hand and tugged her with him out into the hallway. Spinning her around, he crushed his mouth over hers and, with his body pressed against hers, backed her against the wall.
She tasted the need in him, the heat, saw it in his eyes, when, at last, he lifted his head to look down at her.
Smiling ruefully, he cupped a hand at her face and rubbed a thumb across the moisture he'd left on her lips. "I've been thinking about that all day. Kissing you. Nearly drove me crazy."
Mesmerized by the huskiness in his voice, the soft smile that curved his lips, she whispered, "Me, too."
He lifted both hands to her face, his expression turning earnest. "I want to make love with you, Maggie. I spent a hell of a lot of time thinking about that, too."
She closed her eyes, trembling, as he slid his hands down her arms and laced his fingers through hers.
"I thought about touching you," he whispered, brushing his lips across hers. "Kissing you, holding you." He dipped his nose into the curve of her neck and inhaled deeply. "Your scent haunted me," he murmured. "Roses." He opened his mouth and stroked his tongue over her flesh. "But you taste like sin."
Weakened by the seductive pull of his words, her body on fire from his touch, Maggie could barely stand. "Ace…"
Leaning into her, he slipped a knee between her legs. "Tell me that you want to make love with me, too."
The pressure of his thigh at the juncture of her legs sent need rushing through her
. Her mouth dry, her flesh afire, she could manage only a broken, "Y-yes."
Hearing the answer he wanted, he dropped his hands to her buttocks and brought her hips up hard against his. She felt the hardened length of his erection against her groin, nearly wept, as he found her mouth with his again. He kissed her passionately, thrusting his tongue deeply into her mouth.
He lifted her higher still, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung, as he carried her to his room. At the side of his bed, he stopped and loosened his hold on her, letting her body slide slowly down the length of his. When her feet touched the floor, she had to lock her knees to remain upright.
With a hand behind her neck, he drew back to rest his forehead against her. "Damn," he moaned in frustration. "I need a shower. I smell like the wrong end of a cow."
She started to step away, but he tightened his grip on her, holding her in place.
"Take one with me." He dropped his mouth to hers and caught the hem of her T-shirt, drew it up. "You scrub my back, and I'll scrub yours."
She felt his teasing smile against her lips and couldn't help smiling, too. Fisting her hands in his shirt, she tugged it from the waist of his jeans and walked backwards as he urged her toward the adjoining bath.
He didn't bother with a light, but headed straight for the shower door. With his mouth still locked on hers, he reached around her to twist on the tap, then wrapped his arms around her and gave the kiss his full attention. Steam quickly filled the room, pearling on her already hot skin. He tore his mouth from hers and stepped back, ripping his shirt open.
Dragging in a ragged breath, Maggie stared at his bare chest. Unable to resist a moment longer, she splayed her hands over the muscled expanse, then smoothed them up, catching his shirt and dragging it over his shoulders. Tossing it aside, she carefully pulled off the tape she had bound him with earlier—with his chest bare now, she stepped into him, reaching for his belt as she pressed her lips over his heart.
Their movements became urgent, frantic, and soon they both were naked, their clothes scattered across the tiled floor. Holding up a finger, indicating for her to wait a second, Ace turned to pull open a drawer on the vanity. When he turned back, he held up a condom package for her to see.
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