Dakota ordered a bacon cheeseburger, and Kathy chose a club sandwich. He drank coffee while she sipped iced tea.
"I really thought I would find an apartment today," she said.
"You know what the problem is?" he asked without giving her a chance to answer. "You should be living in a house and not an apartment. Someplace with a yard for Sugar and privacy for yourself." Someplace like the ranch, he thought. He had a fenced yard the pooch could play in and a big canopy bed just waiting for Kathy.
"You know, I think you're right," she responded, her eyes sparkling with sudden enthusiasm. "I should start looking at rental houses instead."
Dakota wondered if he was an idiot. Here he was hoping to keep her, yet he hadn't asked why she'd left in the first place. Lifting his coffee to hide a frown, he took a sip. And why hadn't he asked?
Because deep down he feared the answer. Kathy might have left for a very simple, very devastating reason. She might have fallen out of love with him. And if that was the case, there wasn't much he could do about it.
Or was there? If she had loved him once, couldn't she love him again? If they spent enough time together, would those feelings come back?
The waitress delivered their lunch, and as they sampled their food, the jukebox played a country ballad. The sound of silverware clanking and voices chattering could be heard above the music, but the song managed to soothe Dakota's soul just the same. Kathy had chosen to live in Royal. That in itself seemed like a good sign.
He searched her gaze. "Do you ever think about the first time we met?"
A small smile touched her lips. "Charity dinner at the Texas Cattleman's Club. You were in uniform."
"And you were in white silk." A dress as cool and sleek as the woman wearing it. He'd taken one long, luxurious look and decided he'd wanted her. As to how he intended to win her over, he hadn't been sure. "I didn't think you would be interested. You were so refined, so elegant. Your type rarely gave me the time of day."
"My type?"
"You know what I mean." He took another bite of his burger and swallowed. "Do you think it was fate, us meeting like we did?" He had been stationed at Aviano Air Base in northeastern Italy at the time, but was home on leave. And she had come to Royal to visit Aaron before she left for Italy to replace a consular who had taken ill.
"That we met in Royal, but both ended up at the same Italian village?" She glanced down at her sandwich, then back up. "The Italy part might have been fate, but Aaron suspected I wanted to meet you. I think that's why he invited me to the charity dinner."
Stunned, Dakota leaned against the table. "I don't understand. Did Aaron mention me? Tell you I was a decent guy or something?"
Kathy stirred her tea a little nervously. "Yes, but I saw your picture first. Aaron had some photographs from a friend's wedding, and you were the best man. So when I came across your picture, I think I said something like 'Wow. He's gorgeous. Who is he?'" She clanked her spoon against the glass. "Pretty shallow, I guess."
Shallow? It was the best damn thing he'd heard in years. "Why didn't you ever tell me this before?"
"In the beginning it would have been too embarrassing. And later on, it didn't seem important. We never talked about how we had met."
Something in her voice bothered him. Something that said they weren't as close as he liked to remember. Dakota reached for his coffee, pushing his worry aside. Why dwell on the past? Instead he would do his best to focus on the future.
* * *
The following afternoon Kathy paced her bedroom, wondering what to do with herself. She couldn't seem to concentrate on anything other than overwhelming guilt. She could barely face herself in the mirror, let alone face Dakota every day.
Was he waiting for her to approach him? Waiting to hear why she had walked away from their marriage? A week had passed since they'd returned from Asterland, but she had yet to say a word.
It wasn't fair. He had a right to know. The baby had belonged to him, too.
Kathy slipped on a denim blouse, then zipped her jeans. She knew Dakota was at the barn, spending some time with the horses.
Exiting the house through the back door, she ventured into the Texas air. She could have taken one of Dakota's trucks, but decided the walk would do her good. Once inside the courtyard, she stopped to take comfort in her surroundings. Greenery had a way of soothing her, and the yard was lush with potted blooms. Beyond the Spanish tiles and rustic patio furniture lay a thick carpet of grass. This was her favorite spot at the ranch, a place to sip coffee in the morning and watch the stars light up the sky at night.
She opened the gate leading to the rest of the property. The land was flat, wide open and picturesque in a vast, Texas kind of way. As she walked, her boots kicked up dust. The soil wasn't fertile, but it reflected the sun in warm, golden shades.
The breezeway barn stood strong and solid, a building alive with the scents and sounds of the horses Dakota loved. He had an incredible facility, designed with the recreational cowboy in mind – an indoor and outdoor arena, fenced pastures, wash racks, a hot walker, an enormous tack room, hay storage and RV buildings. He didn't want for anything, she thought, except maybe the truth from his wife.
Kathy didn't need to enter the barn. Dakota stood beside a hitching post, saddling a big, black gelding. She couldn't help but admire her husband, the breadth of his shoulders, taper of his waist, those long legs covered in time-worn denim. And his rear, she thought, that taut masculine rear.
She walked toward him, and he turned and smiled, making her guilty heart flutter. He still affected her, still had a way of making her limbs watery and her breath catch.
"Hi," she said. "Are you going for a ride?" It was a dumb question with an obvious answer, but she couldn't think of anything else to say.
"Sure am. Do you want to join me? It's a great day to hit the trail. Not nearly as hot as yesterday."
Kathy brushed a stray hair from her eye. He sounded so relaxed, so friendly. And she was a nervous wreck, at least on the inside. Maybe on the outside, too. She couldn't seem to keep her hands still. She batted away another hair, a useless effort in the wind.
"Okay," she answered, thinking she would probably return to the ranch wobbly-legged and sore. "But I haven't been on a horse in a while. I'm a little out of practice." And anxiety-ridden. Could she really talk about the miscarriage today? Talk about their lost baby on this warm, breezy Texas day?
"Then you should ride Serenity," he said, suggesting Kathy's favorite mount. "She'll be good to you."
Serenity had been named well. The mare, a leopard Appaloosa, nuzzled Kathy in a gentle welcome. "She hasn't forgotten me."
Dakota placed Kathy's saddle on a nearby stand. "You're not easy to forget, sweetheart."
And neither was he, she thought, sending him a shaky smile. Not a day had passed without him entering her mind.
They mounted their horses in silence. The main trail led to a dozen smaller paths, the next as boundless as the last. The vegetation was sparse and the ground level for as far as the eye could see, but the land was rich with history. Wars, cattle drives, the building of railroads, the discovery of oil. Every rock, every cactus, every speck of dirt told a story.
They rode for nearly two hours, with Kathy taking in familiar sights, scenery she enjoyed. In the distance, windmills turned, pumping water from the earth.
"Do you want to stop?" Dakota asked as they came upon one of the few shade trees on the trail.
Kathy nodded, anxiety setting in once again. If she intended to tell him, then it should be now, while they were away from the ranch – away from the memories that lingered in the halls of the house they once shared.
She slid from her saddle, and Dakota took Serenity's reins. He hobbled the horses, returning with a blanket under his arm. Dakota never traveled on horseback without a blanket. It was, Kathy decided, the Indian in him, the nomad running through his veins. The Comanche were a wandering tribe, a people who had once roamed West Texas, then lat
er fought to keep the Lone Star plains as their home. Another piece of history, she thought, another lost battle.
They sat beneath the oak and sipped bottled water.
"I'm going out of town tonight," he said.
Kathy's heart made a fast, nervous leap. "Another assignment already?"
He shook his head. "No. Business in Lubbock."
"Oh." She released an audible breath. Business in Lubbock meant the shopping centers Dakota owned. Commercial property was the major source of his income. The Texas Cattleman's Club missions had nothing to do with money. "How long will you be gone?"
"A few days."
Apparently that was all the information he intended to share. But Kathy knew Dakota didn't enjoy the corporate world. It wasn't dangerous enough, she supposed.
He removed his Stetson and handed it to her. "You'd better wear my hat on the way back or you'll end up with a sunburn."
"Thanks." Kathy placed the hat beside her. She had the fair, sensitive skin common to most natural redheads, even though she lacked the freckles and fiery temper often associated with scarlet hair. But Dakota used to say that her passion was red, that her appetite in bed was the color of fire.
She felt her cheeks warm. "I'm probably pink already."
"A little." He tapped her nose in an affectionate gesture, and her nipples pebbled.
"This is nice," he said.
She blinked. "Nice?"
"The weather. The horses. You and me. It reminds me of our days in Italy."
It had been wondrous – falling in love with a pilot, holding his hand and stealing kisses in tiny cafés. Aviano Air Base was thirty minutes from the beach and thirty minutes from the mountains. A more romantic location didn't exist.
He reclined on the blanket. "Lie down with me."
Kathy caught her breath. She couldn't resist – not his crooked smile, his Texas drawl, the long fluid line of his body.
She lowered herself to the blanket. Being next to him was more than nice.
"I think we're turning out to be pretty good friends," he said. "Don't you?"
She nodded, knowing she couldn't bear to spoil this moment, this warm, tender feeling. She couldn't tell him why she had left. At least not today.
* * *
Kathy answered the phone at 10:00 p.m., surprised by the masculine voice on the other end of the line. Dakota rarely called when he was away on business.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Nothing, really." She glanced at her bed. Sugar was curled up on a pillow. "I was thinking I might make some hot chocolate. Maybe read for a while."
"Are you in the kitchen?"
"No. My room."
"And you're alone?"
Kathy gripped the phone. "Sugar's here."
Dakota sounded strange, not quite himself. She looked around nervously. Was he worried the house was bugged? He could be involved in another mission, something he hadn't told her about. Or someone from his past might have surfaced. Dakota had probably made plenty of enemies over the years.
"Are you on the cordless phone?" he asked.
Was he really in Lubbock? "Yes."
"Good. I want you to go to my room."
"Okay." Heart pounding, she walked down the hall, then entered the master bedroom. He hadn't made the bed before he'd left, but other than that, the room was tidy. Nothing looked disturbed, nothing out of place. "I'm here."
Dakota's voice softened. "Go to the closet and pick out one of my shirts."
Kathy frowned. His instructions were getting stranger by the minute, but he appeared to have a distinct purpose in mind, something he needed her to do. Meet him somewhere? Bring him a shirt? It made no sense.
She stepped into the walk-in closet. Neat, organized, very Dakota. Casual wear at one end, dress clothes at the other. She tried to ignore the empty rack that used to be hers. He hadn't filled the space. It remained vacant.
"What kind of shirt?" she asked.
"It doesn't matter. You choose."
She reached for denim, soft and well-worn – a long-sleeved shirt with pearl-front snaps. She liked how he looked in blue, it made his eyes appear darker, his skin more golden.
"Do you have one?"
"Yes."
"Put it on the bed."
If they were being bugged, she thought, someone was listening to an odd conversation. But maybe that was the idea. She removed the shirt from the hanger and did as he asked.
"Done."
"Good girl. Now tell me what you're wearing."
Kathy froze. She looked around, caught sight of the canopy bed – the tousled covers, his denim shirt. There were no electronic bugs, no old enemies lurking. She wasn't in any danger. And there was only one reason why she couldn't hang up on him.
His voice. The husky, sensual sound of his voice. She adjusted the phone. "I can't believe you're doing this to me."
"I'm lonely, Kathy. I miss you."
She closed her eyes. She missed him, too.
"Are you wearing a dress?" he asked.
She shook her head, then realized he couldn't see her. "No." He wanted to see her, she thought. He wanted to picture her in his mind. She opened her eyes. "A blouse and a skirt."
"Nylons?"
"No. My legs are bare."
She heard him swallow. "Take your blouse off."
Kathy sat on the edge of the bed. Could she do this? Could she play this forbidden game? She touched his shirt. Dakota's scent lingered in the room, the woodsy note of his cologne drifting through the air.
"Kathy?"
"I'm taking it off," she said, reaching for the top button on her blouse.
"Is it green? Emerald, like your eyes?"
"Yes." But even if it wasn't, she would have told him what he wanted to hear. She wanted to fuel his imagination, make him warm and aroused. She glanced at her hand and realized she still wore her wedding ring. "Where are you, Dakota?"
"In a hotel room."
She pictured him lying on a bed, his chest bare, his back braced against a wooden headboard. His room-service dinner would be untouched, except for a bottle of imported beer. She could almost taste the alcohol on his lips, taste the intoxicating flavor.
"Are you wearing jeans?"
"Yes."
She let the blouse fall from her shoulders. "Are they unzipped?"
His voice turned rough. "As far down as they'll go."
Suddenly the image in her mind intensified. The contrast of his skin against crisp, white sheets. The broad expanse of his chest, the narrow line of his hips. His sex, full and erect, pressing against his jeans.
Kathy couldn't stop the heat between her legs, the silky moisture. "I'm in my bra and panties." She had dropped her skirt to the floor, where it pooled at her feet.
Dakota groaned, and she knew he had lifted his hips. "Tell me what you look like," he said. "Every detail."
She walked to the mirror, the phone cradled against her ear. She looked aroused, her cheeks flushed, her lips slightly parted. "My hair is pinned up, but it's starting to fall." Just the way he liked it, she thought, tangled and messy. And the color of her bra, she told him, was called autumn gold. She had ordered it from a catalog, along with matching panties. The bra was seamless and sheer, the panties decorated with a hint of lace.
"I can hear the wind," she said, turning toward the window. She could almost feel it blowing through her hair, cooling her face. With her head tipped back and her eyes closed, she unhooked her bra, then slipped off her panties.
"Are you naked?" he asked, his voice a husky whisper above the wind.
"Yes." For him, she thought Naked for him.
"Put my shirt on, Kathy. Put it on and climb under the covers. I want you in my bed."
The shirt could have been his hands. It caressed her, brushed her nipples, slid between her thighs – rough yet gentle.
And the bed. She pressed her face to the pillow and imagined him there. His scent. The weight of his erection. His mouth covering hers.
&nbs
p; Kathy brought the phone to her lips and smiled. Tonight they would make love in their minds. Warm, wet, languorous love. A beautiful, erotic fantasy.
* * *
Kathy answered the door, and found herself face-to-face with Violet Tenewa, Dakota's Comanche mother.
"Kathy!" the other woman exclaimed. "Honey, I had no idea you were back."
"I'm not. I mean, I am, but...." How could she explain her presence at the ranch to her mother-in-law? "I'm just a temporary houseguest. Dakota invited me to stay until I find another place to live."
Violet's smile fell. "Oh."
Kathy stepped away from the door, praying this wasn't going to be an awkward reunion. She adored Dakota's mother. Violet was a striking, independent woman. Even at sixty-two, she looked as exotic as her name. Her silver-streaked hair fell in a straight, black curtain, complementing a golden complexion and deep-set eyes.
"Would you like to come in?" Kathy asked. "Dakota isn't here, but I'd love to visit with you."
"Thank you. I'd love to visit with you, too."
Kathy made a pot of coffee and warmed the pastries she had baked the day before. Coffee in hand, they sat in the living room, the aroma of cinnamon wafting between them.
"Where is Dakota?" Violet asked.
"He had some business in Lubbock. He's been gone a few days."
Violet reached for a cinnamon roll. "Have you heard from him?"
"Yes, he called." And seduced me over the phone, she thought, her skin suddenly warm. "He should be home later this afternoon."
Neither spoke after that Small talk didn't seem appropriate. Kathy had walked out on Violet's son – a subject that certainly outweighed the weather.
"I'm sorry," Kathy said finally, struggling to find a simple way to explain the burden in her heart. "I never meant to hurt Dakota. When I left, I kept hoping that he would come to me. That he—" She paused, her eyes beginning to mist. "That he would tell me that I was more important than his work." She swallowed past the emotion and met the other woman's gaze. "I suppose that sounds foolish, especially to someone as independent as you. Your life with Jack was so unconventional."
TYCOON WARRIOR Page 10