by Lynda Trent
Ryan glared at her. “What the hell is it with you and money? Don’t you realize we may have to abandon your precious well for lack of funds?”
Large tears formed in Clare’s eyes and overflowed onto her cheeks. “I can’t. Don’t you know I would if I could?”
Gently, Ryan reached up and brushed the tears from her face. “I don’t understand,” he said in a softer voice. “Explain it to me.”
Clare was unprepared for the rush of emotion she felt, and she burst into tears. Instinctively, Ryan took her into his arms. He had no idea why she was sobbing so brokenheartedly, but he held her tenderly and stroked her until she calmed. He hadn’t touched her for weeks Clare had unaccountably become very distant and aloof toward him and he longed to hold her forever.
Without loosening his protective embrace, Ryan fished a handkerchief from his pocket and dried her eyes, then gave it to her. Clare dabbed at her nose and wondered how she could possibly explain her unprecedented outburst. “Ryan, I”
“Hush. I don’t understand what it is about money that makes you so… strange, but whatever it is, you don’t owe me an explanation. We’ll find another backer somehow.”
Overwhelmed with relief at this reprieve, Clare felt new tears forming.
“There’s one more possibility. A man named Maxwell Tucker. He’s a bit of a recluse, though, and won’t do business by phone. We’ll go see him tomorrow.”
Clare dried her eyes. “He lives here?”
“No, in Colorado. We’ll fly up in the morning.”
“Oh!” Clare looked up at him in astonishment.
“I’ve already made the reservations. We leave from Intercontinental at ten. We can leave your car in one of the rental lots and pick it up when we return. Now what’s wrong?”
“I’m embarrassed,” she confessed, feeling a blush spread over her face. “I didn’t bring any extra money.”
Ryan shrugged. “I’ll pay for it.”
“But you’re paying for the room!” she protested. “I can’t possibly let you buy my ticket, too!”
“There you go with the money phobia again!”
“I am not!”
“Yes, you are!”
“No, I’m not!”
Ryan grabbed her to him and silenced her with a kiss. “Yes, you are,” he whispered when he released her.
“I heard that!”
He kissed her again. This time it mellowed and became tender and she slipped her arms around his neck. All the hard-headed business woman and the eccentric millionaire melted away and he held only Clarevulnerable and passionate. Ryan felt his world become the circle of her arms.
Wordlessly, he pulled her to her feet and led her into the bedroom. Clare started to loosen her dress, but Ryan caught her hand. “Let me.”
Expertly, he freed the fastenings of her dress and let it drop to lie like a cloud of sunrise about her feet. One by one, her silken undergarments followed and he held her close. “Your hair has grown so long,” he said huskily as he knotted his fingers in it. “Soon it”ll reach your waist.”
“Is it too long?” she whispered.
“It’s perfect.”
The scratchy texture of his clothing made her bare flesh tingle, and Clare reached up on tiptoe to kiss his smoothly shaven jawline. Her fingers were not as adept as his, but she removed his clothes hastily. Now that she was here, with him, alone, she could hardly wait to feel his muscular body’s warmth against her own. All her reservations fled and she ran the tip of her tongue across the smooth skin of his broad chest.
Ryan’s arms were like ropes of iron about her, and his large hand traced fire along the swell of her breast. Clare moaned as he caressed the curve of her waist where it flowed into her hip. His other arm encircled her slender body and held her to him as close as a breath.
“You fascinate me,” he said with awe. “Every time we make love, I’m amazed at your perfection. I think I must have imagined how satiny your skin is, how small you feel in my arms, how lovely your eyes are. Yet, when I hold you like this, I find my memory hasn’t done you justice.”
“Ryan,” she murmured, “how can you be so wonderful? Nobody has ever treated me the way you do.”
“Nobody has ever loved you as much as I do,” he said softly.
Clare’s body tensed and she caught her breath at his words.
“I do love you, Clare, with all my heart. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long.” He held her tightly as if he could keep back the words she was trying to say.
“Don’t, Ryan. Please.”
He grew still. “You don’t love me, then? Is that it?”
She buried her face against his chest. “No, that’s not it. I don’t know. I’m all confused!” She felt herself trembling at his words of love, but she could not echo them. All too clearly, she could hear Regina’s voice describing the details of her most recent date with Ryan. She had implied that he was about to propose. Clare steeled herself. “I’m not ready to make any commitments.”
“I don’t recall having asked you to,” Ryan said in a carefully controlled voice. “I merely said that I love you.”
So that was it, Clare thought. The proposal would go to Regina; the proposition to herself. Angrily, she tried to pull away.
Ryan held her easily. “What goes on in that beautiful head of yours?” he demanded, his hands clamped onto her arms. “Why do you try to run from me every time I show you that I care for you? Well, you’re going to have to get used to the idea, Clare Marshall! Because I do love you and I intend to tell you… and show you… at every opportunity!”
“Let me go!” Clare snapped.
Instead, Ryan crushed her to him. He knotted his fingers in her hair and tilted her head until her lips were offered to his. Kissing her deeply, passionately, he felt her struggles growing weaker and weaker. At last, she put her arms around him and eagerly returned his kisses. With a chuckle, he lifted her in his arms as easily as if she were a child.
“Put me down,” she murmured in token resistance.
“Gladly.” He lowered her to the bed and lay half-covering her, his arms supporting his weight. Again he cupped her face in his large hand and kissed her, long and persuasively, until he felt her surrender.
Tracing his fingers along her cheek and down the slender column of her neck where her pulse raced wildly, he wondered about her. Was his love so unwelcome? Why, then, did she melt so easily in his embrace? He pulled back and looked for the answer in her eyes.
Clare’s eyes were misty and tender, as dark as wood smoke in her passionate mood. He could swear they mirrored his love; every inch of her lovely body seemed to be crying for him. Could it be only physical passion that so rocked her? He doubted it; though from the first time he’d held her, their bodies had been marvelously in tune.
“Why are you so afraid of love?” he whispered tenderly. “Have you been hurt so very badly?”
Unable to speak, Clare nodded, and her luminous eyes filled with tears.
Ryan felt an almost overwhelming impulse to destroy Elliot, who had so badly scarred his darling’s soul. Instead, Ryan said, “Clare, let me love you. Don’t be afraid of me. I promise that I won’t hurt you.”
She studied his earnest face and found only truth and love there.
“I don’t ask you to say you love me,” he continued. “But let me love you. Let me show you what it can be like between a man and a woman.”
“I’m afraid,” she whispered so softly that he had to strain to hear the words. “So afraid.”
Damm him! Ryan thought. What did the bastard do to her? Not trusting his voice, he rolled to one side and cradled her head on his shoulder. Gently, he smoothed her long hair and kissed her protectively.
“Trust me, Clare,” he said at last. “Just don’t shut me out.”
She shook her head. “I can’t shut you out. I can’t even be objective when you’re near. I’m afraid to let myself love you, but I can’t seem to stop. Please, Ryan, be patient with me. I am trying.”
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“That’s all I ask, love,” he said huskily. This time when he kissed her, it was as if something new had been added. A depth had opened up between them and he felt his love filling it. She had, in effect, said she loved him!
As tenderly as if she were made of spun glass, Ryan tilted her chin for his kiss. The love he felt made him all but groan, and he longed to engulf her and protect her, all at the same time.
Clare felt his warm lips open beneath hers and she met the caressing tip of his tongue with her own, as tingles of delight raced along her spine. Everywhere her body touched his she felt more alive than ever before, and she moved against him eagerly.
How easy it would be to love him, she thought, not realizing that she already did. And how fortunate a woman would be who had the whole love of a man such as this.
She ran her fingers through his thick hair and planted small kisses around his ear and down the curve of his jaw. His skin was a dark gold from exposure to the sun and had a clean, natural smell like fresh air and sunshine. His eyes were the color of a woodland pond with autumn leaves below the surface, and she saw a love there that she could not doubt. If only it were all for her!
With a moan of near-pain, she clasped him to her. Beneath his skin she could feel the ripple of his iron muscles. The hardness of his ribs blended into the swelling muscles of his back, and she felt the leashed strength beneath her fingertips. He was like a stallion she had once seen; all silken coat and sinewy muscles, perfectly proportioned and giving the impression of incredible strength held in check. Although she had had little experience with men, she knew Ryan was a thoroughbred.
Coaxingly, he stroked her back and side and ran his hand along her hip and thigh, massaging her warm, pliant skin.
Then he moved his hand up to cup the softness of her breast. Between his thumb and forefinger, he rolled her taut, rosy nipple. Clare pressed her body against him. His fingers and then his lips urged her to greater surrender, and she felt as if she’d burst from the teasing motion of his tongue across her tender nipple.
Easing her legs apart, Ryan touched the softness of her most intimate parts. Clare moaned in pleasure. Suddenly, she found herself exploding into the heights of ecstasy, and she lifted her body, seeking his.
Ryan stroked her until her delight began to slacken, then he entered her, pulling her hips to meet his in pleasure. At once Clare felt herself quicken again, and she moved with him in a golden cloud of love. Never had she felt so much a part of him. It was as if his mind and hers had merged as had their bodies. Together they shared the ecstasy that before each had known only in themselves. When Ryan reached the peak of his passion, Clare felt as if she were of him; and he knew her pleasure when she reached hers.
Satisfied and deeply content, Clare curled in the warm circle of Ryan’s arms, one of her legs looped across his. Half awake and half asleep, she stroked his chest, now and then kissing the warm skin nearest her lips. As sleep claimed her, she heard him say, “I love you, Clare, with all my heart.”
Clare awoke with a feeling of wholeness and snuggled closer to the warm body beside her. A sweet smile of remembrance tilted the corners of her lips, and she slipped her arm over his chest. Feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath gave her a sense of peace, and she sighed happily. When she opened her eyes, she found Ryan watching her.
“What were you dreaming?” he asked. “You looked so happy.”
“I wasn’t asleep. I was thinking about you.”
He grinned. “That’s even better.” After a short pause, he said, “I love you, Clare.”
A small frown puckered her forehead.
Smoothing away the lines, he added, “I’m not asking you to say you love me. Not until you’re ready. So dont’ look so distressed.”
“How can you be so patient?” she asked. “I don’t deserve it.”
He silenced her with a kiss. “Don’t you ever say that again. You’re talking about the woman I love.” He patted her on her bare bottom. “And I don’t take that from anyone. Now get up and let’s go eat breakfast. Our plane leaves in two hours.”
Clare rolled out of bed and put on wine-red slacks and a white blouse with a froth of ruffles down the front. She pulled her hair back into a smooth chignon and watched Ryan dress. He was whistling softly and looked as contented as anyone she had ever seen. Could he be in love with both her and Regina? What was this fascination men seemed to have toward the blonde woman? Clare wondered sickly if she’d have to share her lover with the same woman who had shared her husband. Feeling almost incestuous, Clare went in the bathroom and brushed her teeth.
Chapter Twenty
The Braniff jet landed smoothly at Denver’s Stapleton Airport, and they had no trouble getting a rental car. At that time of the day, traffic was light as Ryan drove toward Boulder.
Clare’s parents had never had enough money for a vacation, and during her short marriage, Elliot had never taken her anywhere, although he’d insinuated that Regina had often accompanied him. Consequently, Clare was spellbound at her first sight of the Rocky Mountains.
“Look, Ryan!” she exclaimed as they left Denver behind and the mountains loomed before them. “There’s snow on the tops of them!”
He smiled but was studying her curiously. One would think she’d never seen mountains before. Yet how could that be, when almost everyone with any money at all went to the mountains at least every other year?
“They look so craggy and awesome!” she marveled. “I never dreamed they’d really look blue-purple in the distance!”.
So she hadn’t seen mountains before! Ryan took her hand and kissed her fingers one by one as he drove. She was a puzzle he couldn’t solve. In so many ways, it was as if Clare had just begun her lifeso many things that he took for granted, she saw as new experiences.
“Would you like to drive up one?” he asked.
“Can we? I mean, they look so… steep.” She heard her words and blushed. “You must think I’m acting like a fool. It’s just that I’ve never been here before.”
“No, love. Never a fool. The Rockies are always awesome the first time you see them. I’m still impressed by them, and I come here often.”
Their motel had a view of the foothills, and Clare stood on the small balcony gazing at them. They looked like brown rocks piled in random heaps by some Titan child. Over the jagged crests, fleecy white clouds passed in the windy blue sky. She understood now why the mountains were named Rocky.
“We’re going to have dinner on top of that one,” Ryan said as he came out beside her. “I called Mr. Tucker and then I made reservations at the restaurant there.”
“Do you think he’ll invest in the well?’ Clare asked, looking at the mountain.
“I hope so. He’s the last lead I have.”
Without answering, Clare shivered and went back inside. She unpacked the dress she planned to wear that night and rummaged through the suitcase until she found both shoes.
“It’s a good thing I don’t pack efficiently,” she commented. “I put this dress in as a backup for the art show. Otherwise, I’d have to wear jeans or my artist costume.”
He smiled. “You look great no matter what you’re wearing. Tucker will be charmed.”
“I hope he’s charmed enough to invest.” She wriggled out of her sweater. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“I’ll wash your back,” Ryan volunteered. “We can conserve water that way.” He grinned when she looked surprised.
Clare had never showered with a man before, and she felt unaccountably shy. But as Ryan soaped her body, she felt herself learning to love it.
Mist from the water made a cap of jewels in his hair, and his skin was as slick as satin. Clare ran her hands over him, leaving a foamy coat of lather. Always before she had bathed for cleanliness, but now she was discovering new dimensions.
“I never knew this could be so much fun,” she said over the noise of the water.
Water clung to her long eyelashes and trickled down her
creamy skin. Her rosy lips were slightly parted, and Ryan could see her snowy teeth. The spray had dampened her hair, and it was curling over her shoulder and onto her breast. He brushed the tendril aside and ran his soapy hand over her slippery skin. At once her nipples firmed and she involuntarily swayed toward him.
“Your hair is getting wet,” he said reluctantly. “Do you want to pull it back or something?”
“No. I have my hair dryer.”
“That’s what I like about you,” he said. “You don’t get upset over your hair getting messed up or not having your makeup in perfect order. You’re just not fussy. Maybe that’s why you always look so beautiful.”
“I look beautiful because my hair is messy and my makeup is smeared? You certainly have a flair for words.”
“You know what I mean. Some women’s hair looks like a helmet and you can’t see their skin under all the cream and powder. You look… accessible.”
“Thanks?” Clave said. “I think.”
“What I’m trying to say is that I like you just the way you areuncontrived and natural.”
“I like you just the way you are, too,” she teased. “Naked.”
He laughed. Pulling her to him, he kissed her tenderly. The water pounding on them was exciting, and Clare felt her pulse begin to race. She ran her hands over the expanse of his back, feeling the new texture of his wet skin. All thoughts of oil were far from her mind and she was aware only of Ryan. His hand caressed her breast and slid down over her hips, pulling her closer to his firm, male hardness. Clare gave a sigh of pleasure and moved sensuously against him.
“Is it possible to make love in a shower?” Clare murmured against the curve of his neck. “And do we have time?”
“Yes and yes.”
He sat down and pulled her onto his lap, facing him. As she lowered herself over him and felt him slide into her, she cried out. The rain of water stung her skin and stimulated her further as she moved, bringing them both to a quick, ecstatic climax.
Ryan shuddered as the fire burst in his loins and he held her close. “You’re marvelous,” he said in her car. “And so damn fine to make love with.”