by Beverly Rae
“Chloe.”
“Uh-huh?”
“You’re special, too. And I don’t think any less of you. In fact—” he paused as her startled eyes met his, “—I think more of you after…you know.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
The way she looked at him, so vulnerable, so open, so desirable, left him unable to answer. He fisted his hands to keep from grabbing her and taking her. But now was not the time. When at last he’d found his voice, he asked, “Your painting?”
She glanced at her easel and canvas, and he could sense her hesitation. “Uh, yeah, my painting. I’d better get to it.”
“That is why we’re here.”
Chloe studied him a moment longer, and he was afraid she would mention what she’d seen at the stream again. Should he confess what he was to her? Could he stand to see the fear in her eyes? He waited, unsure what he would do.
At last, however, she turned and began setting up her palette and brushes. She was soon lost in her art, unaware when he moved to sit on another rock closer to the edge of the pond where he could watch her face.
Chloe peeked at Conan, the mountain of a man who sat on a nearby rock, content to let her paint. Almost as though by silent agreement, they remained quiet, lost in the world of the forest. She ached to include his image in the painting. But would he let her? Or would he react as he’d done at the camp? Unwilling to break their easy camaraderie, she discarded the idea and returned to painting the landscape.
She sensed him move off the rock. Trying not to get noticed, she watched him soundlessly step to the edge of the water. Holding the brush poised in the air, she waited, mesmerized.
Conan knelt beside the water and spoke to a small brown animal entangled in the scrub brush. Shivering in fear, the rabbit stared at him with unblinking round eyes. Conan’s tone grew even softer.
Oh, my God. He’s cooing at it. And it’s listening.
Chloe held her breath, amazed at the tenderness of the giant man as he comforted the frightened animal. He reached out, and holding the rabbit’s leg as gently as one would hold a baby, he snapped the vine that held it captive with his other hand. The rabbit jerked once, then surprisingly quieted again. Conan touched the back of the rabbit and it hopped a couple of feet away, and as though thanking the man, turned to blink at Conan.
“Go on, little one.”
The rabbit twitched its nose, then sped away, disappearing into the underbrush. Conan stood, turning back to where he’d sat.
Chloe offered him a soft smile. He frowned, diverting his gaze from hers. “Wow. You’re amazing.” He’s not a brute of a man. Underneath all the bluster is a kind and gentle soul.
He settled back on the rock, but this time he looked toward the pond and not at her. “Naw. He was caught up, that’s all.”
She couldn’t explain the sensation, but a different kind of warmth, one having nothing to do with desire, spread through her.
“I’ve never seen anything like it. You kept it calm so you could help. How did you do that? It’s like you’re a bunny whisperer.” She chuckled, but part of her wondered if what she’d said could be true.
He almost pivoted toward her, then instead straightened his back as though determined not to let her see how she’d touched him. “I have a way with animals.”
And with me. “More than just a way. It’s like it understood you and knew you didn’t want to hurt it.”
He shrugged. “Animals sense those things.”
Yes, they do. They know you’re a good man and not just what you seem like on the outside. They see inside, where it really counts, and they know you’re a caring man. She ached to tell him what she’d thought and more, but didn’t, afraid that he wouldn’t want to hear. Still, she couldn’t keep all her thoughts to herself.
“You have gentle hands.” She flushed, suddenly aware that she wasn’t talking about the rabbit any longer. He grumbled, but it was too low for her to understand.
She paused, unsure if she’d already said too much. After several minutes of silence, she returned to her work. Her concentration, however, wouldn’t stay on the painting.
“What’s your life like, Conan?”
“What do you mean?”
He pivoted toward her and caught her unprepared for his hard perusal. He seemed wary of her. But why?
Flustered, she regrouped, then continued. “Where do you live? Do you have brothers and sisters there? A big family?”
His confused expression brought a lump to her throat. Why did her questions bother him? “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be nosy.” She laughed, unable to deny the truth. “Actually, that’s a lie. I do want to be nosy. But it’s only because I think you’re very interesting. I mean, you’re this great big guy who’s as strong as a bear, but you can be so sweet and loving, too.”
She flushed, surprised by how much she’d revealed. But what she’d said was true.
“As strong as a bear, huh?”
Did he almost smile? “Stronger. Tell me. I want to know.”
“There’s not much to tell. I grew up in the Rocky Mountains, and yes, I have both a brother and a sister. My parents are gone, killed by…” He clenched his jaw, then turned away from her. “We didn’t come here to talk.”
Had she gone too far? Asked too many questions? She tried to stop, but couldn’t keep what she had inside from breaking free. “I can’t help it. I think…” She ducked her head, thankful that he was staring at the water and not at her. “I think you’re very special. And not just because of the rabbit.”
She sensed him turn toward her, but she couldn’t raise her head. What if he thought she was hinting at a relationship? What if he thought she wanted more from him than sex? She lifted her brush to the canvas, forcing her stiff arm to work, when the most incredulous thought struck her. What if she did want more?
She bit her lip, fighting back the tears threatening to fall. Knock it off. He’s not interested in more than sex. Stop fantasizing. Stiffening her back, she concentrated on her work.
She fought to regain her regular breathing, and when she no longer thought he stared at her, she let out a sigh.
Keep your mind on your work.
She checked the composition of the painting and was satisfied that she was going in the right direction.
That’s it. Just keep your mind on your work.
“You, too.”
She slipped, skimming her brush over an area already filled with a different color. But for once, a mistake didn’t matter. She noticed her arm shaking as she faced him. “W-what did you say?”
“I said, I think you’re special, too.” His scowl conflicted with what he said. Was it so difficult for him to speak those words?
Chloe’s pulse thundered in her ears, making her wonder if she’d heard him correctly. “You do?” Again she bit her lip, but this time, she did so to keep the smile from her face. Bracing herself, she struggled against the joy urging her to run into his arms.
He was next to her before she could take another breath. “You heard me.”
She couldn’t suppress her grin any longer. Leaning against him, she saw the confirmation of his words lighting his eyes. “When did that happen?”
“Dunno.”
“Well, I dunno either.” Figures. Just when she had him opening up, he reverted to one-word answers. “So what do we do now?”
His mouth drew closer to hers and she held her breath, waiting for him to kiss her. Looking at his lips, she parted hers and waited. Please, oh please. Kiss me.
She was lucky he held onto her when he pulled away or she might have fallen over. Shaken, she searched for an answer in his stoic expression. Finding none, she lowered her gaze to the wet line of paint marring his shirt.
“Oops. I think my brush slipped. I can try to get the paint out if you want.”
“Chloe?”
“Yeah?”
“Get back to your painting.”
No. Her refusal stayed in her mind, never say
ing it out loud. “Are you sure?”
Didn’t he want her as much as she wanted him?
“Yeah.” His intensity tore into her.
She quivered with delight. He does want me.
“Work now.” His eyes flashed with unconcealed heat. “Play later.”
Two hours later, she was still working. But Conan didn’t care. He’d settled back, content to watch the emotions mixing with the ever-present concentration she gave her work. Neither one of them had spoken since they’d admitted their feelings and he couldn’t imagine disturbing her. Had, in fact, enjoyed the easy silence between them. The sun had worked its way across the sky, and although the area was partly shaded, the heat of the day filtered into him, making the cool water next to her all the more enticing.
Chloe wiped her neck with a rag, then lowered her brush and sent Conan a soft smile, a contented smile. “Would you like to take a peek? I mean, it’s not finished, but it’ll give you an idea.” She tilted her head and arched an eyebrow in a playful manner. “But you have to promise not to try and take it from me.”
He liked her spunk and her humor. Still, when she turned the painting around for him to see, he had to resist the urge to ask to keep it. She’d captured the idyllic scene around them better than he could have imagined. The blue of the water was perfect, and somehow she’d managed to take the soft haze of the waterfall’s spray and place it on the blank canvas. She’d even included the path of moss-covered rocks that led from the water’s edge inward to the small patch of exposed land in the center of the blue pool. The green of the surrounding forest wasn’t complete, but he could tell that once her work was finished, the painting would be even more amazing.
“Exquisite.”
A pleased expression brightened her face, and the corners of her mouth tipped higher. “Wow. Coming from anyone, but especially from an art connoisseur like you, that means a lot.”
“I’m not joking, Chloe. It’s incredible.”
Her blush was intoxicating. She tucked her head and answered in a tone too soft for human ears to hear. But he heard her.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Standing and stretching, he nodded toward the water. “Follow me.” He didn’t bother removing his shoes, but stepped on the first rock in the stone path serving as a bridge to the center island. Taking the rocks two at a time, he jumped the final yard onto the grassy island, turned and motioned for her to do the same.
“Are you kidding?” Chloe touched the first rock with her shoe, then pulled back. “I’ll fall off.”
“No you won’t. Come on. You need to see the view from the middle of the pond.” He took the path again, stopping halfway to balance between two rocks. “See? It’s easy.”
“For you, maybe.”
He could see how much she wanted to join him. “Chloe, trust me. I’ll help you.”
She bit her lip and placed her foot on the first rock. “You promise?”
“I promise. Now come on.”
“I will if you stop ordering me around. You’re making this harder than I already think it is.”
The nervousness in her tone almost hid the humor behind her words. “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t mean I plan on stopping, though.”
He grinned at her surprise and waved her to him. “Ready whenever you are.”
“Okay, here I come.” She was on the second rock before she knew it and snagging his hand in three more quick steps on top of the rocks.
“See?” He held one arm out to steady himself while keeping hold of her hand. “Let’s take the rest of them one at a time.” Setting up a system of him stepping back and taking her hand again to help her to the next rock, they moved one at a time toward the island until he reached the final two stones. Jumping backward he landed on solid ground, then reached out for her.
Chloe, however, stayed on the next-to-last rock, her arms stretched outward and wobbling like a trapeze artist on a high-wire. “Oh-oh-oh, I’m going to faaaall.”
Conan reached for her the second her foot slid off the wet rock. But he’d gone off balance trying to get to her. His hand gripped hers, but she was already plunging sideways—and taking him along with her.
He fell with her, the coolness of the water sending shudders through his body. Coming up sputtering, he pushed the hair out of his face and glared at her. “Why the hell didn’t you wait for me to take your hand?”
Chloe tossed the hair out of her eyes, then shoved him. “Why didn’t you catch me? You promised you wouldn’t let me fall in.”
“How was I to know you couldn’t stand on one rock for two seconds? I had my hand out. All you had to do was take it.”
She glowered at him, her chest heaving with her anger until, at last, she stopped and looked around her. “Why didn’t you tell me the water was this shallow? I’m standing up.”
“So? You’re still wet.”
“I don’t know. If I was going to get wet, maybe I should’ve just waded across.” Her sudden burst of laughter echoed around the small clearing.
What the hell? Dumbfounded, he watched her cover her mouth in a useless effort to control her mirth.
“Why the hell are you laughing?” What had he done that she found so humorous this time?
Chloe covered her mouth, trying to stifle some of her snickers. “If you could’ve seen your face…”
“You mean before or after you fell in with your mouth hanging open?” He could give as good as he got. “I’m surprised you didn’t catch a fish.”
At least her riotous guffaws subsided into giggles. “Oh, really? A fish? At least I didn’t look like a fish with your big old mouth flapping like a trout hooking onto a—”
He muffled her words with his mouth. She gave a soft whimper and pressed the palms of her hands against his chest. But he wouldn’t let her go. Not when he ached for her so much he could barely stand.
The taste of her rocked him, transforming the simple lust searing through his body into something more, something meaningful that filled him with joy. Chloe’s kiss sent shockwaves through him, churning the heat smoldering inside into a roaring flame. He groaned, realization hitting him harder than a landslide. She was the one for him. Unable to think while his lips touched hers, he pulled back and studied her.
The cool water dripped from her hair, making it cling in a frame around her. Her brown eyes were round with wonder, with droplets glistening on the tips of her lashes. Her pink, full lips parted as though waiting for another kiss. Her wet T-shirt formed around her breasts, outlining her peaked nipples to perfection. His gaze met hers, silently asking the question he prayed he wouldn’t have to say out loud.
She swallowed, then pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the island. Conan did the same, throwing his shirt on top of hers. Her breasts, buoyed by the water, glistened with moisture he longed to lick off her. Lifting her, he brought his head down to accept the taut buds as she wrapped her legs around him.
He flicked his tongue over her nipple, catching a drop of water. She made an enticing sound that changed from a whimper to a moan. Gripping her round, firm bottom, he held her against him, delighting in the way her slick, wet body met his.
She peppered his shoulders with kisses, murmuring soft words of encouragement, telling him she was ready. But he didn’t need to hear the words. The way she held him, rubbed against him, spoke of her eagerness.
A soft breeze drifted over them, making Chloe shiver. Conan hugged her to him. “Let’s get you warmed up.” Pushing through the water, he stalked onto the island, keeping her body close. Rivulets ran down her back, sliding over her skin and through his fingers. The droplets on her skin sparkled under the filtered light, and for a moment, he paused to take in the dewy brilliance of her skin.
“Conan.”
His name was all he needed to hear. Sliding her to her feet, he rushed to tug their wet garments from their quickly drying bodies. At last they were free of their clothes and she stepped away from him. He inhaled, charmed by her beauty
. She was like a mystical creature, a water nymph welcoming him to her secret island. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, then she lifted her gaze to his. Her chest rose and fell in quickened breaths, and when she opened her arms for him, he couldn’t believe his luck in finding her.
He slid his arms around her waist and took her with him to the grass. Lying by her side, he skimmed his hand along her body, reveling in every curve and valley. Her eyes shone with desire, turning the lust he felt into a power all its own. “You’re beautiful.”
She blinked, the corners of her mouth tipping up. “I bet you say the same thing to all the girls you dunk in the water.”
He shook his head, playing along with her joke. “Nope. Just the ones who almost drown me.”
Chloe cast her gaze down, then brought it back to him. “So you’ve brought others here?” She bit her lip, her nerves showing.
Conan shook his head, knowing she was no longer toying with him. “I’ve never brought anyone here. This isn’t my home, remember?”
He shuddered, loving the way she ran her palm along his arm, then down his chest. “Do you like living in the Rocky Mountains, Conan?”
He didn’t want to think of the mountains he’d left behind right now. Not when he could think of her. “Yeah.” Conan wanted to bite her lip the same way she’d just done.
“Is your home as beautiful as it is here?”
Her timid look spoke of a need for more than a simple answer. “No. It never could be.”
“Really?” Her big doe eyes locked on to him. “Why not?”
He paused, but the flowery words of love he sought wouldn’t come. Instead, he spoke from his heart, giving her the only answer he could. “Because you’re not there.”
Her pleased expression was his reward. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and instead pulled his mouth to hers. He leaned into the kiss yet only grazed her lips with his. Holding his desire in check, he promised himself that this time wouldn’t be like before. He touched a strand of her hair and brought it to his nose, savoring the fragrance. Her scent was as fresh as the morning air, and he closed his eyes to imagine letting her hair stream over his chest.