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Against the Rules

Page 22

by Linda Howard


  “You were jealous?” She still couldn’t make herself comprehend everything he was telling her, and she pinched herself surreptitiously; the small pain was real, and so was the man who lay beside her.

  The look he gave her spoke volumes. “Jealous isn’t the word for it. I was insane with it.”

  “You love me,” she whispered in wonder. “You really love me. If only you’d told me! I had no idea!”

  “Of course I love you! I need you, and I’ve never needed anyone before in my life. You were as wild and innocent as a foal, and I couldn’t keep my eyes away from you. You made me feel alive again, made me forget the nightmares that jerked me up in bed. When I made love to you, we fit together perfectly. Everything was right, all the moves and reactions. You nearly burned me alive every time I touched you. I had to be with you, had to see you and talk to you, and you had no idea how I felt?”

  He looked outraged, and Cathryn managed a small laugh as she snuggled closer to him. “It’s that stone face of yours,” she teased. “But I was so afraid of letting you know how I felt, afraid you didn’t feel the same way.”

  “I feel the same,” he said gruffly, then demanded, “Tell me again.” He slid his palm up her side and cupped a breast. “Let me hear it again.”

  “I love you.” She complied gladly, joyously with his demand. Saying the words aloud was a celebration, a benediction.

  “Will you tell me that when we’re making love?”

  “As often as you want,” she promised.

  “I want. Now.” His voice had roughened with desire and he pulled her to him, his mouth clinging to hers. The old familiar magic seared through her veins again and she melted against him, not noticing when he unbuttoned her shirt, only aware of the intense pleasure she felt when his hand touched her bare skin.

  A dying glimmer of caution prompted her words. “Rule...we shouldn’t. You need to rest.”

  “That’s not what I need,” he murmured in her ear. “Now, Cathryn. Now.”

  “The door is open,” she protested weakly.

  “Then close it and come back to me. Don’t make me chase you down.”

  He probably would, she thought, broken leg and all. She got up and closed the door, then came back to him. She couldn’t touch him enough, couldn’t satisfy her need to feel his hard, warm flesh beneath her fingers. She made love to him, lavishing him with her love, trailing kisses all over him and whispering “I love you” against his skin, imprinting him with the words. Now that she could say the words aloud, she found that she couldn’t say them enough, and she made a litany of them as she loved him, lingering so long in her caresses that suddenly he couldn’t take any more, lifting her bodily above him and fusing his flesh with hers in a quick, strong movement.

  She danced the dance of passion with him, attacking and retreating, but always pleasuring. She was aware of nothing but him, the hot desire in his dark eyes, and something else, the glow of love returned.

  “Don’t stop saying it,” he commanded, and she obeyed until the words wouldn’t come, until all she could do was gasp his name and writhe against him. His powerful hands on her hips took over the motion, driving her higher and higher, until with an almost silent wail she collapsed, shuddering, on his chest.

  In the quiet, sleepy aftermath he smoothed her tousled hair and held her tightly to him. “I’ll need to hire more hands,” he said drowsily.

  “Mmmm,” said Cathryn. “Why?”

  “To take up the slack. I can tell right now that I won’t be spending as much time on the range. I’ll have a major problem just getting out of bed in the mornings. Taking care of a woman like you will be time-consuming, and I intend to do my best.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” she toasted, lifting an imaginary glass.

  “We’ll get married next week,” he said, nuzzling his face into her hair.

  “Next week?” She made a startled move away from him. “But you’re still—”

  “I’ll be up by then,” he soothed. “Trust me. And ask Monica if she and Ricky will stay for the wedding. Always mend your fences, honey.”

  She smiled. “I know. I don’t want any bad feelings between us. And who knows? Lewis may keep Ricky here.”

  “Don’t put any money on it. They both have too many hurts bottled up inside. He may want her, but I don’t think he could live with her. Things don’t always work out the way you want them to.”

  Silence fell again, and she felt herself slipping into sleep. A thought nagged at the edges of her consciousness, and she muttered, “I’m sorry about the tack room.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” he comforted, his arms tightening about her.

  “You called me stupid.”

  “I apologize. I panicked at the thought of you going into a burning stable, fighting with those horses to get them out. What if something had happened to you? I’d have gone mad.”

  “You don’t blame me?” she whispered.

  “I love you,” he corrected. “I couldn’t stand it if you were hurt.”

  She felt as if her heart would burst with happiness. So that tantrum had been purely because he didn’t want her taking risks! She opened her eyes and looked up at him from where she lay with her head cradled on his powerful shoulder, and softly, as tenderly as a dream, she said, “I love you.”

  Rule’s arms tightened around her even more, and he murmured, “I love you.”

  A moment later his deep voice drifted into the silence. “Welcome home, honey.”

  And at last she was home, in Rule’s arms, where she belonged.

  * * * * *

  If you’re looking for romance, sensuality and heart, don’t miss these great titles by NEW YORK TIMES bestselling author

  LINDA HOWARD

  Mackenzie’s Legacy

  Mackenzie’s Heroes

  “Linda Howard writes with power, stunning sensuality and a storytelling ability unmatched in the romance drama. Every book is a treasure for the reader to savor again and again.”

  —New York Times bestselling author IRIS JOHANSEN

  “You can’t just read one Linda Howard!”

  —New York Times bestselling author CATHERINE COULTER

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  Read on for an exciting excerpt of Susan Mallery’s #1 New York Times bestseller, THRILL ME!

  Maya Farlow learned the hard way to depend only on herself, so when she fell too deeply for the bad-boy charms of Del Mitchell, she did the only thing she could—she ran. Stunned, Del left Fool’s Gold to make his name and fortune in extreme sports. Now, ten years later, Maya’s been hired to promote her hometown’s new slogan, The Destination for Romance, but the campaign’s celebrity spokesman is none other than Del, the man she left but never forgot…

  MAYA HAD HOPED that hanging out with her friend would be enough to chase all the Del from her mind. But she’d been wrong. The night had been an uncomfortable experience of being awake more than asleep. And when she finally did doze, it was only to dream of Del. Not current, sexy, stubbly Del, but the twenty-year-old who had stolen her heart.

  She woke exhausted and with memory hangover. Funny how, until she’d seen him, she’d been able to forget him. But now that he was back, she was trapped in a past-present rip in the space-time continuum.

  Or she was simply dealing with some unfinished business, she thought as she stepped into the shower. Because as much as she might like to think the universe revolved around her, truth was, it didn’t.

  Thirty minutes later she was reasonably presentable. She knew the only thing that would make her day livable was lots and lots of coffee. So she left her tiny rental house, pausing to
give her newly planted flowers a quick watering before heading to Brew-haha.

  Fool’s Gold had grown in the ten years she’d been away. Giving walking tours of the city as a part-time job in high school meant she was familiar with the history and layout. She had a feeling the schedule of festivals she’d once memorized still existed in her brain. Probably stored next to all the words to Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone.”

  The thought made her smile and, humming the song, she walked into Brew-haha.

  The coffee place had been decorated simply, with bright colors and lots of places to sit. There was a long counter up front, a display of tempting, high-calorie pastries and a tall, broad-shouldered man at the front of a six-person line.

  Maya froze, half in, half out of the store. Now what? She was going to have to face Del at some point. Thanks to Mayor Marsha, they would be working together. But she hadn’t thought she would have to deal with him precoffee.

  The downside to an otherwise perfectly lovely town, she thought, sucking up her doubts and joining the line.

  As Del finished placing his order, whatever he’d said had the cashier laughing. He moved over to wait for his order and immediately started talking to the barista.

  Had he always been so friendly, Maya wondered, watching him, while trying to appear as if she wasn’t paying attention at all. A trick that had her still-slightly sleepy self struggling to keep up.

  The line moved forward. Several other customers stopped to talk to Del, greeting him and then pausing to chat. No doubt catching up, she thought. Del had grown up here. He would know a lot of people.

  A few words of the conversations drifted to her. She caught bits about his skysurfing and the business he’d sold. Because when Del had left town, he’d not only gotten involved in a new and highly risky sport, he’d designed a board, founded a company, and then sold it for a lot of money. Which was impressive. And the tiniest bit annoying.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t want him to have done great. But maybe he didn’t have to be so good-looking at the same time as being so successful. Was a disfiguring scar too much to ask for? Something to level the playing field?

  But no. With his three days’ worth of beard and easy smile, he was still movie-star handsome. She would know. She’d seen plenty of him on video and he was impressive. The camera loved him and that meant the audience did, too.

  She reached the front of the line and placed her order for the largest latte they had. She thought about ordering an extra shot of espresso, then acknowledged she would be most likely returning later. Better to spread out the caffeine.

  She stepped to the side to wait for her drink. Del was still talking with a couple of people. She expected him to finish his conversation and leave. Instead he headed for her.

  “Morning,” she said as he approached. Her lingering sleepiness faded as odd tingles began in her toes and raced up to the top of her head. Horror replaced trepidation.

  No, no, no! There couldn’t be tingles or awareness or any of that. Uh-uh. No way. Not her. She refused to be attracted to Delany Mitchell. Not after ten years and thousands of miles. The miles being metaphorical for her and literal for him. They were done. They’d moved on. Okay, technically she’d dumped him in a cruel and immature way, but regardless of her failings, it was so over as to be a relationship fossil.

  Exhaustion, she told herself desperately. The tingles were the result of exhaustion. And maybe hunger. She would probably faint next and then everything would be fine.

  “Morning,” he said as he stopped in front of her. “You ratted me out to my mother.”

  The words were so at odds with what she’d been thinking that she had trouble understanding their meaning. When the mental smoke cleared, she was able to breathe again.

  “You mean I told her you were in town?”

  “Yeah. You could have given me fifteen minutes to get in touch with her.”

  She smiled. “You never said it was a secret. I stopped by to see a friend and told her you were back. She was surprised.”

  “That’s one way to put it. She gave me an earful.”

  The barista handed Maya her latte. Maya took it and started for the door. “If you’re expecting me to feel guilty about that, it’s so not happening. How could you not bother telling your mother you were coming home? I’m not the bad guy here.”

  Del fell into step with her. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  “Is that what we’re calling it these days?”

  He held open the door for Brew-haha. When they got to the sidewalk, he pointed to the left and she walked along with him. Because, well—why not?

  “You’re saying I should have let her know I was home for the rest of the summer?”

  “Speaking as your mom’s friend, yes, you should have told her you were coming. Or that you’d arrived. And if you didn’t want me to tell her, you should have said something. If she scolded you, it’s your own fault. I accept absolutely no guilt or blame on the topic.”

  He surprised her by laughing. “You always did have attitude.”

  Back then it had been bravado. She liked to think she now had a little experience or even substance to back it up.

  They reached the lake. Del turned toward the path that led to the rental cabins on the far side. Maya went with him. The day was sunny and promised to be plenty warm. August was often the hottest part of summer in Fool’s Gold. Up in the mountains fall came early, but not in the town itself.

  Along the shores of Lake Ciara, just south of the Golden Bear Inn, was a cluster of summer cabins. They ranged from small studios to large three-bedroom structures. Each cabin had a big porch with plenty of room for sitting out and watching the lake. There was a play area for the kids, a communal fire pit and easy walking access to Fool’s Gold.

  Del led the way to one of the smaller cabins. There was plenty of seating on a surprisingly large porch.

  “Not a suite at Ronan’s Lodge?” she asked, taking the chair he offered.

  He settled next to her. “I spend enough time in hotels when I travel. This is better.”

  “But there’s no room service.”

  He glanced at her, one brow raised. “You think I can’t cook?”

  It had been ten years, she thought. “I guess I don’t know that much about you.” Anymore. She didn’t say the last word, but she thought it. Because there had been a time when she’d known everything about Del. Not just his hopes and dreams, but how he laughed and kissed and tasted.

  First love was usually intense. For her it had been that and more. With Del, for the first time in her life she’d allowed herself to hope she might not have to go it alone. That maybe, just maybe she could believe that someone else would be there for her. To look out for her. To give a damn.

  “To start with, I can cook,” he said, drawing her back to the present. “There was a last-minute cancelation so I got the cabin.”

  A couple of little boys played down by the water. Their mother watched from a blanket on the grass. Their shrieks and laughter carried over to them.

  “It’s going to be noisy,” she said.

  “That’s okay. I like being around kids. They don’t know who I am, and if they do, they don’t care.”

  Some people would care, she thought, wondering how difficult his version of fame had become.

  He’d made a name for himself on the extreme sports circuit. Crazy downhill snowboarding stunts had morphed into skysurfing. He’d become the face of a growing sport with the press clamoring to know why anyone would jump out of a plane with a board attached to their feet and deliberately spin and turn the whole way down.

  After a few years of being a media darling, he’d made yet another change, designing a better board, and then starting the company that built them. That move had made him more mainstream—at least for the business crowd—and he’d become a popular guest on business shows. When he’d sold the company—walking away with cash and no announcing what he would do—he’d become the stuff of leg
ends. A daredevil willing to take life on his own terms.

  She’d wanted that once. Not the danger, but the being famous part. It would have been one of the perks of being in front of the camera instead of behind it. For her it hadn’t been about money or getting a reservation at a popular restaurant. It had been about belonging. That if others cared about her, she must have value. Be worthy, in some small way.

  Time and maturity had helped her see the fallacy of that argument, but the hollowness of needing it had never completely gone away. With that dream over, she would have to find another way to make peace with her past.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m getting way too philosophical for this early in the morning.” She sipped her coffee. “So you’re back for the rest of summer and you’re going to be helping me with the promo videos. I appreciate that.”

  He gave her a look that implied he wasn’t buying that.

  “I do,” she repeated. “You’ll be a great host.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  He studied her. “I’m back because my dad’s turning sixty and I haven’t seen my family in a while. What are you doing here?”

  A direct question. She decided on a direct answer. “I was tired of what I was doing. I’d made my third and what will be my final attempt at a network job.” She drew in a breath. “The truth is I don’t translate well on camera. On paper, I should be exactly right. I’m attractive enough and intelligent enough and warm enough, and yet it simply doesn’t work. Going back to producing hard news was an option, but I couldn’t get excited about it. I was visiting my stepbrothers and while I was here, Mayor Marsha approached me about the job. I said yes.”

  The offer had been unexpected, but she hadn’t taken long to accept. Getting out of LA had been appealing and being close to family had felt right. She never considered that Del would be coming back.

  She glanced at him from under her lashes. Would that have made a difference? She told herself it wouldn’t have. He was only home for a few weeks. She could manage to hold it together for that long. Besides, the tingling was probably a onetime thing. A knee-jerk reaction to an unexpected visit from her past.

 

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