by Carol Rose
"But it's convenient most of the time," she observed, glancing around the pasture with its rippling blanket of green.
"Pretty convenient. It's too short for anything more than small aircraft." He hesitated. "I hope to build a real strip in the area. Something that can take bigger birds."
"Sounds like a good idea." Nora couldn't help eyeing the small plane. Maybe she could wait and fly with him when he got that bigger plane.
"Isn't she a beauty?" Bret touched the plane with pride.
"Umm, yes." Nora nodded and tried to look like she knew something about the subject. "Gorgeous."
"And she flies like a dream."
''I'm sure," Nora said, hoping she didn't disgrace herself by becoming hysterical if he actually did fly the plane upside down.
"Get in," he said. ''I'm going to do a pre-flight check."
"By all means," she recommended, skirting the tail of the plane as she went around to the passenger side. At least, she thought it was the passenger side. Were planes like cars?
Someone had thoughtfully designed a step on the wing, which gave her a clue on how to get into the thing. After wiping her boots, Nora scrambled up and climbed in.
The small cockpit looked like serious business, and she had to quell a rising panic at the thought of trusting her life to a heap of aluminum foil and Bret's luck.
Nora gnawed on her bottom lip, knowing she couldn't abandon ship now without disgracing herself, although she was sorely tempted to bail. Fortunately, he climbed in before her anxieties got the better of her good intentions.
"Here, let me help you with the belt." He reached across her body, his closeness stirring a warmth in her. Within seconds, she was strapped in, her heart pounding too loudly in her chest. She tried to calm herself during Bret's preparations. He seemed completely relaxed, as if he were going to ride a bicycle.
Nora felt some of the tension seep from her. Somehow, she knew he wouldn't let her be hurt-physically, anyway.
In a few short moments, he flipped a switch and brought the airplane to life. The little craft shook with the spin of the propeller, the noise of the motor making Nora's ears ring.
She forced herself not to clutch the seat as the plane started forward, bouncing over the meadow. Each bounce seemed to take them higher until they lifted from the ground, airborne on a smooth stream of wind.
The earth fell away behind them as they climbed, and Nora peered out the window. A childlike feeling of wonder crept over her as she watched patch after patch of land drift beneath their wings.
The drone of the engine seemed more steady with just the slightest tremor every now and then. As her nervousness diminished, Nora felt herself relaxing into the movement of the small plane, allowing herself simply to be suspended. Overhead, the sun shone with a gentle springtime brightness.
The whole town lay beneath them, the structures and streets familiar and yet different than she'd ever seen them. From up here, it looked like a perfect town, peaceful and welcoming. The plane droned on like a huge bumblebee, carrying them away.
"Look down," Bret called to her over the noise. "The courthouse at Montague."
Glancing out the window, she spotted the ornate building, their overhead angle making it look like a wedding cake constructed of pink granite.
"I can see why you like it up here," she said, earning an encouraging smile from Bret.
"It's great, isn't it?" His face was a picture of confidence, so comfortable at the controls of the aircraft that he didn't appear to even think about it.
Maybe that was why he'd caught her heart unawares. That cocky self-possession of his drew her like a promise. Somehow he'd gotten around her defenses.
"Want to fly over to Lake Arrowhead?"
"Sounds good."
He tilted the wings, sending them arching to the left before settling the plane on its course. Time seemed suspended as they took an aerial tour of the northern boundary of Texas. Nora studied the instrument panel with its array of delicate gadgets. She found herself staring at Bret's hand resting on the throttle, her mind flooded with memories of their night together. She recalled the touch of his hand on her body.
She wanted to feel all those things with him again. Wanted to be held in his arms again. There was such intoxication in his kisses, such treacherous promises of ecstasy. Even though she knew she didn't have his love, each touch felt like heaven.
Stupid, stupid urges.
Tomorrow, she'd be good, she told herself. Tomorrow she'd worry about her betrayed heart. Today, she just wanted this golden time with him--no doubts intruding. One more opportunity to do what she wanted, no matter the consequences. Nothing was certain between them except her eventual grief, but she found herself aching for the part she was sure of. He wanted her. For now, for this moment, that was enough.
They glided low over Lake Arrowhead, watching the glitter of the sun off its surface, broken only by a flicker of light that might have been a fish leaping up out of the water.
As they turned back to the ranch, Nora leaned her head against the seat, lost in a sense of abandon. The whole afternoon left her feeling both peaceful and exhilarated, alive and vibrant. A fine hum of tension seemed to flow through her veins, a flutter of excitement and anticipation.
She'd entrusted herself to Bret and only good had come of it, this time. He flew the plane like a consummate professional.
There weren't any good answers to handling the scandal. There was no way to take back her love for him, but she could lose herself in being with him, just for a while.
Bret glanced over at Nora. She lay back against the seat, her body soft and relaxed, like a woman awaiting her lover. He felt his pulse rev at the thought, a fierce, possessive response that still puzzled him. From the moment she'd turned to him that night at the cabin, he could only think of her as his own.
He leveled off the Piper as they approached his makeshift airfield, and pulled back on the throttle. The plane drifted toward the earth, dropping down with a smoothness that never failed to gratify him. They skimmed over the ground, lower and lower until the landing gear just grazed the grassy surface, settling down with hardly a bump.
Even as he taxied down the runaway he couldn't help but congratulate himself on the difference in Nora's mood at takeoff and at landing. Gone was her white-knuckled grip on the seat and her expression of terrified, silent prayer. She sat quietly, watching him, the expression on her face making it difficult for him to concentrate.
He still couldn't figure what happened to her the other day. She'd seemed fine when he'd dropped her off at her mother's house after their incredible lovemaking. Even her insistence on going home that night had seemed reluctant.
It was maddening that he couldn't understand what was going on in her mind. For once, he was clueless as to a woman's feelings for him. And when had he began giving so much thought to what was between them?
All he knew was that he wanted her, right now, always. And while her eyes told him that she wanted him, too, he found himself frustrated still by the thought of the Turner property.
What the heck was he going to do when she found out he'd bid on it, too? He hadn't thought she'd carry her riding school this far. And who knew whether anything would come of it still? There were a lot of hurdles to becoming a landowner, particularly when you had no credit record and a hostile business environment. Things might still work out smoothly; when Nora gave up the riding school idea, there'd be no barrier to their relationship. He just had to hang in there till it all played out.
Bringing the plane to a halt, Bret glanced at Nora. "I hope landing didn't shake you up," he said.
"Not at all," she said, smiling.
Pleased with her answer and enjoying the warmth of her smile, Bret got out and began securing the plane. Shoving the chocks into place, he reflected again how grateful he was that they had the wide open spaces to themselves. In the city, a clear day like today meant crowded skies and traffic on the runway.
Glancing over his s
houlder, Bret saw Nora standing beneath an unusually large oak at the fence line. The warm spring afternoon hung over the meadow like a voiceless dream that heated the blood and roused every instinct.
He finished up the tail tie-down and closed the plane, fighting the urge to hurry. The quiet in the meadow was broken only by the buzz of insects and the occasional call of a bird. Even with the ranch so far from town, cars and tractors could be heard at the house. Out here, a complete isolation wrapped them together.
Bret walked over to where Nora stood, his whole body vibrating with hunger for her touch, her kiss.
"So ... was it good for you?" he asked when she turned to face him. The humor in his question hid a real need to hear more of her reaction to flying with him.
"I liked it," she said slowly, her eyes focusing on his face, "A lot. I can see why you do it. It's like being set free, without even the earth to hold you."
Something warm and resonant loosened inside him. "Tell my father that. He's convinced I have a death wish."
Nora smiled, her expression empathetic. "Somehow I never pictured you having an overprotective parent."
"There's lots you don't know about me," he growled, reaching out to draw her into his arms.
She came to him without resisting, her head thrown back to look into his face. Bret held her there, the soft brush of her hair teasing his arm.
"I want you so bad, I hurt," he murmured.
He felt the tremor go through her, a longing that surfaced in her eyes.
She hesitated only a second, her voice almost a whisper. "Shall we go to the cabin?"
Her willing acquiescence made the blood jump in his veins. Bending, Bret kissed her, the play of their mouths and tongues stoking the fire in him. She felt small and soft in his arms, need and longing all wrapped in the sweetest, most fragrant package he'd ever held.
******
Chapter Eight
He drew her down to the ground, the thick grass beneath the tree cushioning them. Every kiss pulled them closer to the flame. Bret sampled her mouth over and over, his hands urgent on her body. Everything about her enflamed him, the sweet curve of her bottom in his hands, the catch of her breath when he nibbled beneath her ear. He felt her hands on him, urgent and restless.
The softness of her mouth beneath his was hungry and giving. He pulled her closer, seeking contact even through their clothing. She moaned when he cupped her breast in his palm. Bret unbuttoned her shirt swiftly, pulling back the fabric to find one nipple with his mouth. He stroked her, reveling in the fed of her skin against his.
He felt her writhing beneath him, her head thrown back, her legs intertwined with his as he rocked against her. Moving to suckle her other breast, Bret tried to slow the pace. He fondled her, his free hand sliding down to the apex of her thighs. Even through her jeans, he could feel the heat of her body. Slowly, he cupped her, his own excitement rising with her every moan.
Never in his life had the blood pounded so hard in his veins. He couldn't analyze it, didn't even want to think about it. Some things didn't need evaluation.
Later, he'd worry about the future, about her reaction to his offer on the land. Now, he wanted her more than anything, needed the moments in her arms like a drug.
"Bret," she gasped, "someone ... might see." The fog in his mind cleared enough to reassure her.
"There's no one here." His voice sounded unnatural and rough to his own ears. "The ranch hands are in the east pasture."
His hands unerringly loosened her belt and the button at the waist of her jeans. He pulled her shirt free and his hand met the smooth glide of her stomach.
"You're sure there's ... no one around?"
"Yes." He couldn't think, couldn't lose himself in her fast enough. Still, he struggled to stay in control. Nora murmured and moved eagerly against him, her lips reaching for his, her hands tearing at his clothes. He held still as she tugged the shirt from his back, enjoying the silken glide of her fingers.
Her lips traced a warm path along his collarbone, each kiss a declaration. Every movement-the press of her bare breasts against his chest, the stroke of her hands on his belly-told of a woman on fire. She kissed him with an open hunger, an unashamed sensuality that made him wild.
Kneeling, Bret drew her up with him. He skimmed her jeans down her slim hips. Poised on her knees beside him, her open shirt hung from her shoulders, her front-hook bra dangling like a miniature vest. He became more aroused as he looked at her. Her breasts were bared to his gaze, the nipples erect, the soft hair between her thighs luring him closer.
Snatching up his shirt, he threw it on the ground behind her and gently urged her back so he could wrest her boots from her feet. In seconds, her jeans landed in the grass, her slender legs apart in the most erotic pose he'd ever seen.
He shucked his own boots and jeans in record time. Kneeling in front of her, Bret bent to kiss her breast, then moved down to the delicious softness of her stomach. With one hand, he cradled the small of her back as he sought the soft, moist treasure between her thighs. He traced the softness, the damp flesh there an invitation. Her thighs were warm and firm against him.
He felt her shudder, the action sending a ripple through his own body as if they were connected. The faint trembling in his muscles signaled the slipping away of his control.
He'd never felt so joined with a woman, never needed anyone the way he needed Nora now. Her skin glowed in the light. Hunger and yearning thudded in his stomach like a fist, sucking the air out of his lungs.
He knelt before her, struggling to draw in his breath, a clog of emotion blocking his throat.
The sharp spring smell of new grass filled the air. Bret leaned toward her, stroking the full curve of her breast, loving the soft moan that escaped her as her head fell back.
She slid a hand over his shoulder, smoothing down over his chest to pause at his heart. Her knees widened ever so slightly as her hand dropped lower. Bret flinched as she found her goal. Exquisite shafts of sensation followed every movement of her hand. He steeled himself to hold still against the pleasure, to let the raging sensations ripple over him.
Her touch whispered over his heated arousal, light but not hesitant. She seemed to love the shape of him, the palm of her hand smoothing every sensitive inch.
Bret felt his teeth clench, heard a swishing of blood in his veins, and knew he had to draw back. He gripped her hand, stilling her movement as he bent his mouth to hers.
This time, he didn't fumble with the condom. Every movement was swift and sure, driven by passionate, consuming need. Kneeling before her, he entered her welcoming dampness. With every push there was a pull, a rocking, driving union that put his body in shock and displaced his mind. He felt locked with her, in her, blindly, completely given over to her. Every thrust felt like a further connection, a fusing of hearts and bodies. Setting her arms back over her head, he bent to kiss her breasts.
She tasted of heaven and earth and everything in between. Bret felt the sudden trembling of her body, heard her gasping breath as her body spasmed around his. She called out his name as if searching for a lost lover.
The rushing of his breath caught in his chest as he buried himself in her, driving toward the highest, brightest moment. In a spinning, racing tumble, he felt every part of himself splintering into ecstasy.
He might have called out her name as well. All he knew was the touch of her around him as he shuddered. Burying his head in Nora's neck, he drew in the sweet smell of her and for the first time in his life, fought back a sudden moistness in his eyes.
Nothing had ever prepared him for loving Nora.
He rolled onto his side, drawing her with him, locking her in his arms, unable to speak. For once, he could find no words.
Suddenly, everything was up for grabs and he knew he would fight whatever battles were required to keep her in his life.
"Dammit, Jim I know she offered less for the land than I did. How much less?"
"Quite a bit," Jim said heavily, hi
s face clouded.
"I could withdraw my bid," Bret said, his words coming slowly as he slouched in the chair across from his friend's desk.
“You’ve been after that property for years,” Jim reminded him. "It's the best place for your airstrip. That Beechcraft Barron you've been looking at won't land in a cow pasture."
"I know." Bret's hand clenched. The downside to knowing how to finagle things in life was that you ended up wanting it all.
"Nora will get over losing the property. There are other places she can set up that riding school of hers."
"She has her heart set on this land," Bret said grimly.
"Maybe you could just talk to her," his friend suggested. "Tell her that you've had your eye on that plot since way before she came back to town. That having the airstrip right there-"
''I'm not in that good with her." Bret interrupted with an irony he knew Jim couldn't appreciate. Nora's hunger for him was as immediate and intense as his was for her, but she'd never given the least hint that she'd give up her dreams for him. And something inside him didn't want to ask her to.
Jim Snorted. “You haven't met a woman you can't charm.”
"My reputation is way overblown."
His friend laughed. "Excuse me? I remember the crowds of women around you when you were rodeoing. And you're a local hero after winning the Association race ten years in a row."
"There's only so much mileage you can get out of that."
"Get real," Jim protested. "You never have to buy your own beer. Every cowboy within twenty miles around dreams of breaking your streak."
Bret shook his head. "Maybe so, but that doesn't have anything to do with Nora."
"Of course it does. Women like winners."
If only things were so simple. Bret stared out the window behind Jim's desk, not really seeing the streaming rain. "Things with Nora- Well, I just don't want to blow this."
Surprise broke over Jim's face. "So you're just going to withdraw your offer? That doesn't seem reasonable from a business standpoint. Mrs. Turner might not even consider Nora's offer." He broke off, looking flustered. "It is low."