by Ginna Gray
"If you don't quit throwing that confession up in my face I'll do more than that, you jerk!''
Travis laughed and wrapped both arms around her, trapping her hands between their bodies, and they rolled together back and forth across the king-size bed amid whoops and grunts and giggles and shouts. Soon they were both convulsed with laughter, but as they came to an exhausted stop, their eyes met and held, and the laughter faded away. In its place was a thick silence, pulsing with sensual awareness.
In an instant of panicked hindsight, Travis questioned the wisdom of allowing the teasing to turn into a wrestling match. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten Rebecca. To his relief, there was no sign of horror or fear in her eyes.
Lying perfectly still, her dark hair spread out around her head in glorious disarray, she stared up at him with wide, overly bright eyes. Her breasts heaved, and her breath hissed through her parted lips with each gasping pant. He felt the soft gusts against his collarbone, and his own chest swelled in rhythm against hers as he sucked deep draughts of air into his lungs.
Rebecca's tongue peeked out, and Travis's gaze dropped to watch the moist tip sweep over her lips. His body quickened. When he looked back into her eyes, they were slumberous and glazed with passion.
He smiled. "On second thought, maybe we can skip that nap," he murmured, and lowered his head.
Chapter Eleven
"I've got you now, you little devil!"
Travis lunged and made a grab for Rebecca. She cut loose with an ear-piercing squeal and dodged, and he bit the water face first, Rebecca whirled and splashed toward the beach as fast as she could run through the shallow waves.
Travis was after her in a flash, and her peeling laughter increased in pitch and volume, the musical sounds trailing behind her. She pelted across the sand but he caught her a step before she reached the blanket they'd spread on the beach.
"No fair! No fair! I'd already won!" she squealed. Hand in hand, they sank to their knees, laughing and gasping for breath.
"In a pi... pig's eye! You owe me a for... for... forfeit, woman." Dripping water, his chest heaving, Travis hooked his hand around the back of her neck and planted a salty kiss on her lips.
Rebecca did not resist but they were both too breathless to sustain the kiss long, and when it ended they collapsed, sprawling facedown onto the blanket. Boneless as a jellyfish, Rebecca lay in blissful exhaustion.
After a while, drifting somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, she became distantly aware of Travis rousing himself. At the sound of ice cubes rattling, she opened one eye a bit and saw him rummaging through the cooler, cursing under his breath.
A sharp rap on her behind popped Rebecca's eyes open wide. Travis sat back on his heels with his hands braced on his thighs, grinning down at her. "We're out of beer and soft drinks. I'm gonna run up to the house for some more. You want something?"
She smiled sleepily and nodded. "A ginger ale would be heaven."
"Be right back." He sprang to his feet and trotted away with what Rebecca thought to be amazing vigor, considering how sapped she felt.
Raising up on her elbows, she watched him go. Her gaze ran greedily over him, taking in the long, muscular legs, lightly dusted with golden hair, the narrow hips and tight buttocks covered by a tiny swath of blue spandex, the tapered waist above it. With each long lope and swing of his arms, muscles bunched and rippled across his back.
Rebecca felt a warm glow inside. He really was a beautifully made man, she mused, smiling dreamily. Everything about him was uncompromisingly masculine...except, perhaps, those luscious eyelashes, and they merely served as a sharp contrast to his potent maleness. The way he walked, the way he talked, those chiseled features, the devil-may-care gleam in his eyes, even his long lion's mane of blond hair, proclaimed him to be all man.
He fairly oozed sex appeal from every pore in his body. That devilish grin alone was enough to make a woman go weak in the knees. And a lusty look from those gray eyes, or a glimpse of that loose-limbed, hip-rolling saunter could turn any female's thoughts to cool sheets and hot skin and whispered words in the darkness.
Travis jogged up the steps of the deck and disappeared into the house. With a sigh, Rebecca rested her cheek on her crossed hands and closed her eyes again. Being with Travis this way was the perfect medicine for her right now. He was like an antidote to an insidious poison that had been slowly killing her.
In Travis's undemanding company she could relax and be herself, without worrying about every word she said, or that something she did would set off a violent reaction. The plain truth was, she felt safe and at ease around Travis. Which, considering their past relationship, was really weird, but there it was.
Travis was always cheerful and amusing, his lighthearted affection in no way threatening or suffocating. In the ten days since Evan's attack he had spoiled her shamelessly, showering her with attention and tenderness and pampering her as though she were made of fragile glass. He went out of his way to entertain her and make her laugh. It was his way, Rebecca knew, of taking her mind off the pain and ugliness of the past, particularly that last clash with Evan. In his laconic, laid-back fashion, Travis was a thoughtful, very sweet man.
He was also a wonderful lover.
The thought made Rebecca's nipples tighten and started a fire low in her belly. She blushed just thinking about all the times and ways and places they had made love.
Travis was a sensual man and he made love with an uninhibited ardor that made her tremble. In the last ten days he'd taught her things she had never even imagined, aroused feelings and responses she hadn't known existed, or dreamed that she was capable of experiencing. She had never been so thoroughly loved, nor felt so thoroughly satisfied. If she were a cat she would purr.
Of course, all the old feelings she'd once had for Travis had returned, she admitted with a fatalistic sigh. She supposed it had been inevitable. At times she wondered if they had ever really left her, or if she had just buried them deep-one less hopeless dream for which to yearn.
It was still a hopeless dream. This was just an interlude. She knew that. It was going to hurt when the affair ended, but she couldn't regret that she'd let it happen. She loved Travis, and she was going to enjoy every moment of this time with him. At least when they parted she would have a wonderful memory. That was more than she'd had before.
Something icy touched the small of Rebecca's back, and she screamed. "Travis! You beast! That's cold!" she screeched, and scrambled to a sitting position in time to see him plop down on the blanket beside her.
"Here, catch." Grinning unrepentantly, he tossed her a frosty can of ginger ale, then tipped his head back and took a pull from a long-neck bottle of beer.
Tiny chunks of ice slithered down the outside of the can and melted on Rebecca's fingers, but she barely noticed. She stared, fascinated, at the rhythmic movements of Travis's throat. From there her gaze slid across his shoulder and zeroed in on the tuft of hair under his raised arm, and she felt a flutter in her stomach.
Lowering the bottle, Travis made an appreciative sound, leaned back on one palm and draped his other hand over his raised knee, the neck of the bottle hooked loosely between his thumb and forefinger. "Man, this is the life," he commented, gazing out at the blue waters of the Gulf. "Nothing but sun and sea and sand and plenty of time to enjoy it."
"Yes." Rebecca popped the tab on the ginger ale can, and took a sip. "I've gotten spoiled in the last few weeks. I'm going to miss the sybaritic life when I leave here."
For just an instant, the hand holding the beer bottle halted in midair before continuing on to his mouth. When he'd taken another healthy swig, Travis resumed his casual pose. "When do you think that might be?"
The question took Rebecca by surprise. For the past ten days, by silent, mutual consent, they had avoided any mention of the future—perhaps, she thought sadly, because they both knew they would not have one together. They had spent their time reveling in the physical pleasure they shared and tal
king of casual, inconsequential things while skirting serious issues. It was as though, by ignoring the future, they could hold it at bay.
"I, uh... I had originally intended to hide out here until late August. But now that Evan knows I'm here, I suppose I could leave at any time."
Holding her breath, she watched him out of the corner of her eye and waited for his reaction.
Travis stared out at the water, his mouth pursed. Finally he shrugged. "I think you should stay. It'll give Evan more time to cool off. Besides, you ought to take advantage of the chance to relax and recuperate before rejoining the rat race."
Rebecca almost sagged with relief. The last thing she wanted was to leave. Keeping her expression carefully neutral, she nodded. "You're right. I think I will."
With her fingertip, she drew patterns in the condensation on the ginger ale can. "Is that what you're doing here? Escaping the rat race?"
Travis looked surprised. "Me? Naw. Well... yes and no. I took a leave of absence to do some thinking and try to figure out what I want."
"I thought you decided that years ago when you joined the FBI."
"Yeah, so did I. But lately... I don't know, I've been feeling antsy." He took another swallow of beer, then stared at the remains as he swirled them in the brown bottle. "When David recruited me into the Bureau I was young and wild and feeling my oats and doing undercover work seemed exciting. Lately, though, it has lost some of its glamour." He gave a snorting laugh. "Somehow, when you're twenty-four, risking your life is a helluva lot more fun than when you're thirty-one."
Rebecca's gaze went to the puckered scar on his right thigh. She wondered if he realized he was massaging it with his thumb. A part of her wanted to ask how he'd gotten it, but she was afraid to find out.
"So anyway, I came here to think things over and try to decide if I want to stay with the Bureau or take David up on his job offer."
"David offered you a job?" . "I didn't tell you that?"
Rebecca shook her head. No, they'd been too busy taking each day as it came and living for the moment.
"Now that David is married he wants to cut back on the amount of traveling he does. Where security is concerned, he has carte blanche at Telecom International. He's moving into a more executive position, and he wants me to take over most of his current duties, especially the globe-hopping."
"I see. It sounds like a golden opportunity."
"It is. The pay is great and the work is interesting. I'd get to travel all over the world." He shot her a crooked grin. "Without putting my neck on the line. The trouble is, I'm just not sure if s the job for me."
That he would even consider leaving the FBI surprised Rebecca. He was ideally suited to the work.
Travis had always been restless and hungry to taste life, to experience the world outside their sleepy east Texas town. She had not been at all surprised when, on getting his law degree, he had become an agent. For all his indolent air, he thrived on excitement and challenge—things he would never find in Crockett... or in the ordinary, comfortable existence for which she longed.
For several minutes, they discussed the pros and cons of the job with Telecom. If Travis decided to take a job in the private sector, Rebecca doubted he'd find one to which he was better suited. Traveling the globe, dealing with security problems at the worldwide electronics firm's many plants, was definitely a job for a footloose single man. Which was precisely why David was looking for someone to take it over. Newly married, he naturally wanted to spend more time with his wife.
The discussion saddened Rebecca, though she hid her feelings behind a carefully neutral expression. Whether he stayed with the Bureau or took David up on his offer would not change a thing between them. However, the very fact that Travis was considering the position underscored for her just how impermanent their relationship was.
"So what are you saying? That I should take the job?" Travis looked at her expectantly, his whole body tense, as though her answer were of vital importance to his future.
"I'm merely saying that you're well qualified and certainly suited to the job. The decision to take it or not is up to you."
He turned his head sharply and stared out over the water. Rebecca had the strange feeling that her answer had disappointed him for some reason.
"So... what are your plans when you leave here?" he asked after a while.
"I'm going back to Crockett.''
Travis's head whipped around. "You're kidding."
"Not at all. While I was waiting for the divorce I contacted the school board about a teaching position. Don't look so surprised, Travis. I did major in education, you know. Unfortunately, all the permanent positions were taken, but they said I could substitute teach and wait for an opening. Finances will be tight, but I think I can get by with part-time work for a while, since I plan to live in my father's house."
"Get by? You mean you have to work?"
"Of course. I have to earn a living. What did you think?"
"I assumed that you'd gotten a hefty settlement out of the divorce. After all, in Texas you're entitled to half of everything."
Lowering her gaze, Rebecca picked up a handful of sand and let it trickle through her fingers. "I didn't ask for anything," she said in a subdued voice. "All I wanted was my freedom." The trickle of sand stopped, and she picked up another handful. "All my life I've been dependent on someone else for my happiness and well-being. It's time I took charge of my own life." She gave him a bright, brave smile and ignored the aching knot in her chest. "I'm looking forward to it, actually."
Travis clenched his teeth so hard his jaws ached. Well, McCall, now you know. It's pretty damned clear that she has her life all mapped out... and that there's no place in it for you. Satisfied?
He ground his teeth harder. He wished to hell he'd never-brought the subject up.
He could feel Rebecca watching him. To cover his feelings, he picked up her bottle of sunscreen. "You'd better have another coat of this stuff before you start to broil. Lie down and I'll rub it on your back."
Rebecca sighed but obeyed, stretching out on her stomach and resting her cheek on her crossed arms. After unhooking her bikini top, he squeezed a squiggly line of the lotion along her spine from the shoulders to the tiny scrap of yellow knit-cupping her bottom. She flinched at the coldness, but when his hands began a slow massage she moaned with pleasure.
"You know, I'm surprised that you would return to Crockett," he commented, keeping his voice casual. "You've lived in Dallas for six years. Won't you be bored?"
"Hardly. I learned in those six years that I prefer smalltown living. I missed the slow pace and the friendliness and the old-fashioned values. I need... Mmm, that feels good," she purred when he worked his thumbs across her shoulders.
Chuckling, he placed a kiss on the back of her neck and whispered in her ear, "So you're a regular small-town girl, are you?"
"Uh hmm," she answered dreamily, "Besides, Crockett is my hometown. There are people there I've known all my life. Like Erin and Elise's parents. Dorothy and Joe Blaine are the closest I've ever come to having a real family."
Travis made an understanding sound and smoothed lotion over her waist and lower back, gritting his teeth when he felt the raised pebble scars against his palms. In the past ten days he'd become familiar with every inch of Rebecca's body, and in doing so had discovered more evidence of her ex-husband's brutality. The sight never failed to rouse him to a white-hot rage. The crafty bastard had been careful to inflict the damage where it wouldn't show.
Quelling his murderous feelings, Travis moved his hands down her body in slow, sensuous circles. Whenever he thought about how she had suffered his instinct was to comfort and caress her, to flood her senses with so much pleasure that the harrowing memories would be wiped away.
"It was either return to Crockett or move to Santa Fe to be near Erin and Elise," Rebecca continued in a drowsy mumble.
"So why didn't you choose Santa Fe?" He kneaded the upper curves of her hips, his thumb
s pressing deep into the dimples on either side of her spine.
Travis felt a tremor quake through her and smiled. He scooted backward, squirted a large glob of lotion into his palm and began massaging it onto her thighs.
"No.. .even.. .even Santa Fe is too big and bustling. Mrnm. Oh, yes, that's nice," she groaned. "The...the area is pretty, in its own way.. .but I.. .prefer the forests and lakes and rolling... hills of east Texas to... arid desert."
Slowly, Travis worked his way down, rubbing the oily white stuff into the backs of her knees, the firm, sweetly curved calves, circling her delicate ankles with his hands. By the time he reached the soles of her feet, she was trembling and he could barely draw breath. "Oh, Travis!" she gasped, when his broad palms smoothed back up her legs in one slow sweet sweep.
"Why don't we just get rid of this," he suggested in a rumbling voice, and hooked his fingers under the top edge of the yellow bikini bottom.
Obediently, Rebecca lifted her hips, and Travis smiled. That she allowed him to remove the garment in broad daylight on the beach was an indication of just how much she had loosened up in the past ten days. And of how much she trusted him. „^;
Evan Hall had not only been a vicious bastard but a fool as well. The man had evidently made no effort to tap the deep well of sensuality beneath his wife's ladylike surface.
Until he and Rebecca had become lovers, she had never showered with a man, or gone skinny-dipping in the moonlight, or sunbathed in the nude. Nor, until now, had she made love on the beach in broad daylight.
"Mmm," she groaned, as he worked lotion over her buttocks. Taking his time, he smoothed his hands over the firm flesh, kneading and stroking in a sensuous rhythm. When done, he kissed each pale rounded mound, then grasped her hips and slowly rolled her over.