* * *
When Mac was home they still rode often but always he turned Sam’s serious questions into a joke. Sam sensed his masculine magnetism would attract many women. The thought terrified her. Many people probably now knew as much about him as she did, and she hated that.
On the last day of one holiday they rode far into the hills bordering his parent’s property. They dismounted by a boulder majestically overlooking a vast plain. They sat with their backs pressed against its hot surface. When he passed her the water flask she couldn’t resist telling him, “You’ve changed so much I don’t know you anymore. In fact, I don’t think you care about me at all.”
“That’s not true.” He caressed her arm, making the hairs stand on end. “I probably care more for you now than I ever did.”
“Huh! If that’s so, why do you laugh at me and ignore my attempts to be mature? Why haven’t you kissed me?” She bit her lip and felt the heat burning her cheeks.
His expression puzzled her. “You want me to kiss you? Is that all that’s bothering you?”
“All?” Sam scowled. At that moment she felt like punching him hard. “It might not seem a big deal to you. The man who’s no doubt kissed thousands of women. But to me, who has never had a proper kiss, it’s a disaster. The girls at school talk about their experiences all the time and I have to lie and pretend.”
He chuckled and she grew angrier. This was no laughing matter. “It’s a relief to know you haven’t been playing around while I’ve been away.”
“Don’t you laugh at me.” Rising swiftly she turned her back on him. With the toe of her boot she kicked at the dust. She didn’t hear him move and jumped when he placed a hand on her arm.
“Come on then, kiss me.” He extended his arms. Tentatively, she moved into his embrace, blinking up at him. But when his lips met hers it was more like the kiss you would give a sister. Angrier than ever, she pushed him away.
“I thought you were supposed to open your mouth,” she cried. “That wasn’t a proper kiss.”
For a moment he seemed to be confused—or just plain stunned. A small tremor ran down his jaw and with his shoulders outlined against the blue sky he seemed massive.
As if coming to a sudden decision he stepped close to her again and lowered his head. This time his mouth was slightly parted and she breathed his name on a sigh as he kissed her tenderly. Then, every cell in her body jumped as his tongue ran across her lower lip.
“Mac,” she whispered, pressing her small breasts onto his chest. His breathing seemed shallow and her skin vibrated with strange new sensations. When he lifted his head, she trembled as she told him in awe, “I feel all sort of tingly. Is it always like that?”
So suddenly she almost toppled, he withdrew and turned his back on her. His hands made a mess of his hair and he seemed to be having trouble breathing. She laid a hand on his arm and he jumped as if she’d burned him.
“What? What is it?”
His bronzed face was like a mask, his lips that had felt so soft on hers now a grim straight line. His eyes had darkened, his face tightened. The top of her head barely came level with his shoulders and for a moment as he placed a shaking hand on the top of her head she felt small and vulnerable, like a fawn caught in the ferocious stare of a tiger.
“I’ll tell you what it is. It’s wrong, Sam! You’re little more than a child and I should have more sense than to play games with you.”
“Games?” A flock of birds flew up at her shrill tone. Glaring at him, she shouted, “I’m not a child. You treat me like one, but I’m not.” Unwanted tears flowed down her cheeks, and angrily she brushed them away. “You kiss Clare Norris, but won’t teach me how to do it. I’ve been waiting for you, but so help me, I’ll find someone else if you won’t teach me.”
She stayed long enough to see that her words stunned him, then she ran to Pixie and startled the pony by yanking on the reins as she freed them. Vaulting onto the pony’s back she slapped the reins on the mare’s neck, kicked her hard and set off at a gallop, not slowing until she reached the home paddock.
Mac caught up with her at the last gate and as he bent to unfasten it he gave her a slight smile, saying, “Forgive me?” When she refused to answer he went on, “I’m going back to that concrete jungle tomorrow and I’ll not survive if we part as enemies.” Leaning over, he brushed her cheek with his fingers.
Sam’s lips quivered. “Ugh! Why can’t I stay mad at you, Mackenzie Boswell?”
“Because you love me,” he said softly.
That just about summed it up.
“Don’t be too sure of that,” she said demurely as she trotted Pixie ahead.
“I want you to promise me you’ll not go experimenting with all the local Romeos while I’m away.” That demand confused her more than ever.
“Why not, please tell me? If you can go out with all those city women and let Clare throw herself all over you, then I don’t see why I shouldn’t do the same.” She nearly choked on the lie. Her heart belonged to Mac, and always would.
Lonely Pride Page 8