Chase the Clouds

by Lindsay McKenna

  “Well?” she asked.

  “Honey, you two look like champions out there.” Sam pulled the cowboy hat down over his forehead. “Matter of fact, you should have seen every rider on that course watching you at one time or another. They know they have some competition from you two.” He grinned and slipped his arm around her shoulders, giving her a hug. “You look good, Dany,” he whispered.

  Her confidence rose slightly beneath his compliment. She matched his stride, taking off the hard hat and tucking it beneath her arm. As if reading her thoughts, Sam glanced down at her.

  “Something’s bothering you.”

  She gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. “I had the misfortune of running into Jean over at the secretary’s office,” she explained timidly, worried at his reaction. Dany saw his gray eyes turn brittle and probing.

  “That’s why you were snapping when you mounted up Altair.”

  “Yes, I’m sorry.” They halted at the pickup, and she turned to him. “Oh, Sam, do you really think I have any business showing Altair?”

  He gripped her, giving her a small shake. “Every right,” he whispered fiercely. “Do you have any idea of how beautiful you and Altair look together as a team? My God, Dany, there wasn’t a rider or a trainer who wasn’t watching both of you out there earlier. You’re championship material.” His mouth pulled into an understanding smile. “Come on, let’s get over to the motel and get cleaned up. We deserve some rest before tomorrow morning.”

  She grimaced, climbing into the pickup. “Don’t remind me, although the dressage test will be the easiest of the three.”

  “You’ll make them all look easy,” he promised, throwing the truck into gear.

  Once at the motel, which was a few miles from the show grounds, Sam escorted her to a room which adjoined his own. As if sensing her need to be alone, he left telling her that if she needed anything, to knock on the inner door. In some respects, it was almost like being at home. Dany caught herself wistfully thinking of the ranch as “home,” sharply reminding herself that it was only temporary. Pulling off the boots, and stepping out of the breeches and blouse, she took a cooling shower. Wrapped in a towel, she lay down on the bed, falling asleep immediately.

  She awoke from the sound sleep near six o’clock that night. Refreshed, Dany slipped into a sleeveless summer dress of pale pink. Funny, she mused while tying the dainty white sash around her waist, I’ve never wanted to wear dresses before. Sam seemed so appreciative when she did appear in a dress or skirt that his silent admiration coaxed her into rediscovering her femininity.

  Knocking softly on the door, she waited patiently until Sam pulled it open. His face mirrored his reaction. “You look lovely,” was all he said, but it was enough.

  Dany couldn’t meet his burning, intense gaze. Each time she was near him, it was agony to stop herself from gliding effortlessly back into his arms. She wanted to rest against the solidness of his body and to be loved openly, without reserve. Memory of that afternoon in the canyon seared her thoughts daily. They had worked so hard in the last two weeks in preparation for Santa Barbara that a stolen kiss or a long embrace was all that had been shared between them.

  “With you looking that nice, I’d say we’ll have to go someplace special to eat. Hungry?”

  “Starved,” she admitted.

  Sam picked up his Western suit coat, catching her hand and leading her through his room. “Feel better now that you’ve slept?” he asked.

  “Much.”

  “How’s the confidence level holding?”

  “It’s fragile.”

  “Mmm, you look incredibly fragile, vulnerable and lovely,” he said, turning and gently brushing her cheek with a kiss. He halted at the door and pulled her against him, nuzzling her earlobe with delicious slowness.

  Dany moaned softly, falling against the hard oak of his body, hungry for the smell, feel and taste of him once again. He gave her confidence, solace and affection that she was starved for. Turning her head, she felt the molding of his mouth against her parting, yielding lips. It was a searching, hungry kiss, and Sam pulled away, studying her darkly.

  “God, how I’ve missed holding and touching you,” he breathed huskily, his breath moist and warm against her face. “Do you know how hard it was not to ask you to stay with me?”

  Dany swallowed. “Time, Sam. I needed the time alone,” she breathed softly.

  His eyes warmed and he smiled, fingers trailing down the length of her clean jawline. “And now, honey?” he asked lazily, already knowing her answer.

  She was afraid to say it. His thumb circled the sensitive skin beneath her earlobe, creating a wild, tingling sensation throughout her whole body. He leaned down, capturing her parted lips in a breath-stealing kiss.

  “Say it,” he murmured against her lips, brushing them softly. “Say that you want to stay with me tonight, Dany.”

  Her body quivered beneath his taming fingers, and she sighed languorously, helpless to do anything but surrender. “Yes,” she whispered, “I—”

  Sam kissed her again, effectively hushing her. He raised his head, cupping her face between his large callused hands. “Yes is all I ever need to hear, honey. I need you like I’ve never needed another woman.” His gray eyes darkened with desire as he searched each nuance of her face. “I see the fear in your eyes, Dany. Fear from the past. I won’t ask anything more of you until you’re ready to give it. Tonight, let me love you like I’ve dreamed of loving you.”

  * * *

  Time eddied and swirled like a slow-moving stream for the rest of the evening. A quiet Chinese restaurant provided the needed tranquility and sense of isolation Dany had sought. She was constantly amazed by Sam’s insight into her unspoken requirements, falling more deeply in love with him with each thoughtful gesture he bestowed upon her. As they sat drinking their tea she reflected upon his ability to accurately assess her needs; there was a hidden sensitivity to Sam Reese. Most men with the power of corporations and millions of dollars behind them tended to be shrewd, cold and sometimes even ruthless toward others. She had watched Sam deal courteously with a waiter, the maitre d’ and the young man who had parked their vehicle. Yet, when Jean had taken her to dinner, which hadn’t been often, he walked with his chin thrust outward, a smugness surrounding him that managed to insult anyone who had to deal with him.

  She set her cup down, meeting Sam’s melting gray gaze. “You know,” she began quietly, “the more I’m around you, the more I wonder what I saw in Jean.”

  Sam cocked his head attentively, resting his jaw against his folded hands. “Oh? In what way?”

  “Little things.” She gave a shy smile, embarrassed. “You’re so…” She groped for the right words, unused to expressing her emotions or insights. “Why are you so kind to everyone? Jean would embarrass me with his swaggering attitude whenever we went out. You treat everyone as if they were your friend.”

  He shared a smile with her. “Martha beat it into me when I was real young to observe the Golden Rule.”

  Dany laughed with him. “I would think all the money and corporations you own would make you callous.”

  “In a lot of owners it does,” he conceded, toying with the small teacup. “I learned a long time ago to use brute force or power only when necessary. You get more bees with honey than vinegar, you know.”

  Mesmerized by the mellow huskiness in his voice, Dany felt her heart swelling with undeniable love for him. There was a natural agreement of emotions between them, a common ground where both could find solace and protection from the world. The thought of holding him when he felt the need to be cradled against her body sent a new, exhilarating rush throughout her body. She wasn’t the only one who needed to be held.

  On the way back, Dany persuaded him to make one more check on Altair. Pete met them at the stallion’s boxstall. He had arranged a small cot outside the stall door, since no Grand Prix jumper was ever left unattended. Sometimes because of the stress of traveling, time changes or weather
conditions, the international athletes would come down with colic. It took the watchful eye of a groom who knew the horse’s temperament to be able to spot the first telltale signs of colic, which could kill a horse if the complications were severe enough.

  Sam sent Pete on an errand to pick up a few more bales of straw from the main barn, leaving them in the darkness with Altair. Dany allowed the stallion to rest his head against her shoulder as she gently scratched his forelock. Sam remained at her side, his arm around her waist. The night was broken by the softened snort of horses, voices of other grooms further down the dimly lit corridor and the jingle of bits, bridles and saddles being lovingly cleaned one last time before the dawn of the grueling three-day test.

  Dany was content to be in the cradle of Sam’s arms with Altair nibbling playfully with her fingers, when suddenly the stallion lifted his massive head. Dany looked down the passageway, frowning. A lean figure seemed to melt out of the graying depths, materializing before them like a ghost. She gasped, her eyes widening.

  “Jean!”

  Her ex-husband stood there, hands languidly resting on his hips.

  “Giving your horse a last-minute pep talk?”

  Her heart hammered as she heard the steeliness in his softened voice. Simultaneously she felt Sam’s arm tighten, bringing her protectively against him. Jean hadn’t missed the symbolic and instinctive gesture, and a slow smile tugged at his thin-lipped mouth as he met Sam’s hooded gaze.

  “I’d think you would be over giving your horse a talk, Daguerre,” he returned coolly.

  She froze, aware of the brittle truce drawn between the two men who faced one another in the dimness of the passageway. There was no mistaking Sam’s warning in his baritone voice, and she saw Jean’s eyes flicker with a second of fear. It was such a fleeting reaction that Dany blinked, thinking she had been making it up in her active imagination.

  The Frenchman shrugged eloquently, regaining his flamboyant smile. “Monsieur Reese, I can assure you my horse is ready to win handily in every event. I let him sleep.”

  “Then I suggest you do the same thing.”

  Dany inhaled softly, her eyes widening. There was nothing compromising about Sam in any way. For the first time she was seeing the dangerous side of his personality. And Jean was fully aware of it, too.

  Jean lost his smile, considering the westerner for what seemed an eternity. His eyes flashed with anger, and he swung his gaze to Dany. “Just remember,” he breathed angrily, “you’ll be alone out there for the next three days. He won’t be there. It will be you and me. Remember that.”

  Sam gently disengaged his arm from Dany, giving her a push toward the truck. “Dany, I’ll see you in a few moments.”

  “But—”

  Sam turned his head. “Now,” he ordered.

  Dany looked at each of them, suddenly shaky with adrenaline. “No, I won’t have you fighting—”

  Jean laughed. “I only have one question for you, Danielle. Just one.”

  Sam glared over at him and then back at her as she stood poised like a startled gazelle ready for flight. “Daguerre, I’m warning you—”

  She was shaken by the ugly turn of events. Anger soared through her, clearing her confused, muddled thoughts. “What?” she challenged, her voice echoing oddly through the corridor.

  Jean pointed to Sam. “Are you allowing yourself to be used again? You’re developing a habit of falling in love with men who, shall we say, use your impressive talents with horses.”

  His scathing comment sliced into her heart; a knife twisting painfully in her chest. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she covered her mouth with her hands. She heard Sam mutter a curse as he stepped forward, gripping Jean by the collar, slamming him up against the boxstall.

  “You son-of-a—”

  “No!” Dany cried.

  Sam’s grip tightened on the Frenchman until the color drained from his face. Jean struggled, but was no match in size or bulk. Sam growled, “That’s the last filthy thing to come out of your mouth. You hear me?” His nostrils flared as he glared down at the rider. “No more insults, Daguerre, or you won’t be able to climb up on that horse of yours tomorrow morning. You got that?”

  Tears blurred her vision as she stood there watching the two men glare at one another. Finally, Jean gave the barest nod of his head, and Sam released his grip. “Now get out of here and stay away from Dany,” he snarled.

  He adjusted his shirt, hastily disappearing back into the shadows, his footfalls disappearing quickly, fading into the night. Sam turned, his gray eyes chips of glacial anger as he perused her. His expression changed swiftly as he saw her standing there in tears. “Dany?”

  She took a step away from him, her eyes large and stricken. Was it the truth? Had she fallen in love with Sam just like she had with Jean? Was she making the same mistake again? Oh, God! “No,” she cried softly, avoiding his outstretched hand.

  “Don’t listen to him!” Sam growled. He gripped her arm, halting her flight toward the door of the complex. “Dany, stand still, dammit!”

  She whirled around, throwing her hands out, meeting the wall of his chest. “No!” she sobbed, “leave me alone!” All she wanted to do was escape, to have time to think over Jean’s horrifying accusation. Was it only a game to Sam? Had he wooed and enticed her all this time just to ride Altair? Her heart shrank in agony against the possibility. But she had done it once, and could do it again. How many times had she heard of women getting a divorce and within a year “bouncing” into another similar situation?

  “Honey,” he begged roughly, capturing her within his arms and holding her against his body, “it isn’t true.” He brushed her hair in a kiss, sighing raggedly. “Believe me, Dany, believe…”

  “I don’t know what to believe,” she sobbed helplessly, burying her face in her hands.

  “Come on,” he urged, “we’ve got some sorting out and talking to do.”

  It was useless to try and fight him, and she gave in, blinded by her tears, being led like a sobbing child to the truck. By the time they had reached the motel, the tears had ceased. She sat woodenly in a chair within his room as he closed the door. One small lamp chased away the darkness, and his face was shadowed and unreadable as he tossed the cowboy hat and his suit coat to an empty chair. Pulling up another one, he sat opposite her, his face serious and at the same time, probing.

  “Let’s start from the beginning, Dany,” he urged.

  “Which one?” she wanted to know, her voice thick and hoarse.

  “The one with me. It’s the only one that counts now,” he countered patiently. “Sure, I wanted you to train and ride Altair. But I would never use your trust or—” His voice softened and there was an unsureness evident in his gray gaze. He stared at her hard for a long moment and finally released a sigh. “This is a hell of a way and time to tell you that I love you,” he growled. “I damn near admitted it the day we made love up in the canyon, Dany. But I thought I’d scare you off. I didn’t think you were ready for the kind of commitment that I felt toward you.” He captured her hands, squeezing them gently. “I wanted to give you the time to work through the anger and hurt of your first marriage, Dany. I was willing to keep our relationship free of any serious commitment until you wanted to take another step.”

  She stared at him, lips parting, stunned. “You—love me?”

  He managed a sour grin. “I suppose it didn’t cross your mind that a man from the West might fall in love with a woman from the East?”

  Dany gave a shaky laugh. “You really do?” She was like a breathless child in that instant, and Sam groaned softly, getting to his feet, pulling her within the circle of his arms.

  “More than life itself, Dany,” he whispered roughly, capturing her body solidly against his own, his mouth finding her wet, salty lips.

  Time stood on the threshold of eternity in that exquisite moment. A small cry echoed in her throat as she allowed him to deepen the kiss, his tongue finding each sensitive point within her
mouth, a molten fire spreading wildly throughout her responding body. He captured her hips against him, and she was aware of his maleness. Entwining her fingers around his thickly corded neck, Dany returned the passion fully, wanting to drown herself completely within him in every possible way.

  Dragging his mouth from her bruised lips, he whispered hoarsely, “We belong to each other, Dany. I want to love you so much. These past two weeks have been hell on both of us. Come to bed with me.”

  She was breathless from his branding kiss, eyes wide and lustrous with invitation. “I didn’t know…Oh, Sam, I love you, too. So much that I—”

  He bent down, smothering her lips in a soul-searching kiss. “Shh, honey, just show me. That’s all I’ll ever need.…”

  If time had halted on the edge of eternity, then infinity was composed of a cocoon of unequaled, shared love. He led her to the bed and with painstaking slowness, unbuttoned her pale pink dress. She was hypnotized by the tender flame in his gray eyes as he hungrily devoured her upturned face. Slipping his fingers inside the dress, his work-roughened fingers sent thrilling shocks through her body as he slipped it over her shoulders.

  Leaning down, he placed light, teasing kisses from her shoulder to her collarbone to the cleavage of her breasts. Dany drew in a tiny gasp as she felt the bra slipping away from her flesh, being replaced by Sam’s tormenting hands. Pushing her gently back against the pillows, he lay down beside her, running his hand across the expanse of her body. Her hair was like a blue black sheet framing her head and shoulders, and Sam smiled, running his fingers through the silken strands.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against her ear, nibbling at the lobe. Her breathing became shallow and fast as he continued to taunt and tease her until she was arching against him. She waited in a warm, molten haze as he unbuttoned his shirt and undressed fully. Each muscle led cleanly into another, and she stared at him in silent admiration. Welcoming him back to her open arms, Dany sighed softly, closing her eyes, vibrantly aware of his lean maleness.