by Karen Anders
There was no room for tenderness or control. There was only room for exigency and a fever of need that coalesced into a driving hunger that consumed them, pushed them, drew them to the very edge of a poignant abyss; then Sam clutched her and drove into her one final time. The blackness exploded into splintering shards of silver. The paralyzing release took them both under.
Sam held her tightly in his arms. His body shuddered against hers, and Jenna clung to him, so shaken, so emotionally exposed that she felt stripped inside. It took a long time for all that emotional turmoil to settle, and the first things she was aware of were how close she was to crying and how securely he was holding her. She released some of what she was feeling by releasing the air in her lungs, then she cupped the back of his head and hugged him hard.
Sam inhaled unevenly, then turned his head and kissed her on the curve of her neck. Jenna could feel his heart hammering against hers. “Are you all right?” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.
She nodded, burying her face against his neck. She waited for the pressure to ease in her chest. “Are you?”
Drawing one arm from under her, he braced his weight on it and looked down at her. With the dark stubble shadowing his strong jaw, his heavy-lidded eyes and his tousled hair, he looked dark and dangerous and very male. He gave her a slow smile, a trace of amusement in his eyes. “I’m fine.”
Jenna knew he was trying to lighten the mood, and it touched her deeply. She slid her hand up his neck and kissed him back, trying to be as emotionally honest as she could be under the circumstances. Holding her still, Sam eased away, then sighed and raised his head, his eyes dark and somber as he gazed down at her. Jenna tried to ease the contraction in her throat, then spoke, her voice unsteady. “I’m glad I came here, Sam.”
He shifted his gaze as he drew his thumb across her mouth, and she saw the muscles in his jaw bunch. He met her eyes and the directness in his made her throat contract even more. “So am I,” he answered. “So am I.” He leaned down and kissed her again, then carefully withdrew from her. Using his arm as leverage, he lifted himself off her, then stretched out on his back and reached for her.
Jenna lay with her head on his shoulder and her knee tucked between his, the weight of his arm across her back holding her securely against him. She stared into the gray gloom, her hand splayed against his chest, listening to the counterpoint of his heartbeat and the rain on the roof, savoring the shared silence. Sam sighed and covered her hand with his, and Jenna shifted her head a fraction of an inch. “What are you thinking about?”
He sighed again and shook his head. “Wondering if I could have done anything to save her or if I’m just torturing myself.”
He rubbed his thumb across her palm and then shook his head again. “Probably just torturing myself.”
Jenna couldn’t possibly understand what he was feeling. “What did the vet say?”
“That there wasn’t anything I could have done differently. It was just one of those things. The foal was too big. It tore something inside her and we couldn’t stop the bleeding.”
“I’m so sorry, Sam.”
He smoothed his hand across the swell of her hips, his expression sober. “I know you are and I appreciate it. It’s getting late and you have a concert tonight. I’m sure you need to practice.”
“I wish I could lie here with you.”
A sensual gleam appeared in his gaze. He ran one finger back and forth across her bottom lip, his touch erotic and sensitizing. “I wish you could, too.”
She stared at him and gave him a slow smile. “I know most of the music I’m going to play later.”
He laughed and dragged her on top of him. He looked at her, pure male mischief sparkling in his eyes. “Is that so?” He shifted beneath her, then drew her head down and licked her bottom lip, murmuring, “Shoot, what can we do to take up the boring slack?”
Laughing at his naughtiness, Jenna replied, “I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can think of something.”
Later, she found that she did have time to practice and did so up until they had to head to the Tannenbaum theater. The concert went off without a hitch, but Jenna was surprised to see so many of the Savannah natives peppering the audience. They clapped loud and long and she gave two encores. When she returned to her dressing room, she was shocked to find it full of flowers from so many townspeople.
The reception she found staid and, eventually she coaxed Sam to take her back to the honky-tonk. When they entered in their finery, everyone hooted and hollered, and teased them.
Jenna had the time of her life.
It wasn’t until she was back in her bedroom that the first tentacle of panic uncurled in her belly. Panic and guilt. She didn’t know how it could work between them. She didn’t know how to climb over the mountain of self-doubt. And she didn’t know how she would survive when she walked out of his life.
It was then that she decided to search the desk, even as the feelings tormented her. She was leaving tomorrow. She had to leave tomorrow. She couldn’t stay here.
She rushed out of her room and headed straight for Sam’s office. Once there, she began to systematically go through the desk, but there was no diary. No jewelry. She clutched at her throat. He must have found them. He must have them.
She’d been a fool.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
She turned at the sound of Sam’s voice.
“I want my grandmother’s diary.”
13
“WHAT DIARY?” Sam said, the confusion very clear on his face.
She held his gaze, searching his eyes. “Like you said, you bought this desk at auction. It should never have left my gran’s house.” Jenna was starting to get a bad feeling about this, her stomach churned.
Sam was clearly astonished. “This was your grandmother’s desk?”
Jenna nervously moistened her lips. “The diary has to be in here. The other two desks were empty.”
“You came here because of this desk, not for the hospital charity?” Now he sounded hurt. His eyes filled with disappointment and shock. “You lied to me?”
“Yes. Sam, it’s extremely important that you give the diary to me. They hold scandalous information and I can’t let that get out. I promised my gran. I also request that you return the jewelry to me.”
His chin lifted and his eyes blazed. “I don’t have your grandmother’s diary or any jewelry. You came here for nothing.”
Jenna felt battered by his words, his emotions, his power. She felt exposed and vulnerable and very guilty. She struggled to stand her ground, to keep her head up, to pull words free of the whirling emotions his facing her had unleashed. It wasn’t until this very moment that she realized that she’d done this on purpose. She knew Sam couldn’t have taken the diary. She knew it, yet she’d wanted to destroy his feelings for her. It was for the best. He should dislike her. It would be easier for him.
He turned and walked out of the room, and it wasn’t until Jenna heard the front door slam that she snapped out of her lethargy. “Sam,” she called, her voice now very small.
She rushed out of his office into the hall to the front door. She saw his retreating back in the downpour. Heedless of the rain, she bolted off the porch after him.
Sam felt as if his heart had been torn out of his chest. She was here on a pretense of helping them with the charity, of gaining the real ranch experience. It was all over some diary and jewelry she thought he’d stolen from her.
How could she think that of him? How could she accuse him of that? If he’d found something in that old desk, he would have done everything in his power to give it back to its owner. The pain raked at him, her distrust more wounding than the fact that she was here under false pretenses. She should have known that. She should have known him.
“Sam!”
He stopped and turned as Jenna raced against the powerful wind and rain. She barreled into him and caught him off guard and they tumbled down the embankmen
t, landing in the hollow of the hill, shielded from the house and the barns.
She was on top of him, their legs entwined, her wet hair across his face.
Jenna looked down at him, her eyes bruised and haunted and the wrenching vulnerability on her face made his chest burn. All she was wearing was the yellow nightgown with thin straps. The color of the material made her skin glow. The silk garment was soaked and he could clearly see her dusky nipples through the transparent material, as well as the rest of her glorious body. She was so beautiful his body leaped in reaction, and she was so unsure of herself that his throat ached. His gaze moved down her slender torso, curving narrow at the waist, her hips round and firm, and her long legs smooth and tanned.
He knew then that if he had to do without her, his life would be one big empty joke. His eyes traveled back up, centering on her breasts and the exposed nipples. They hardened under his gaze. He reached out, curled his fingers around the strap and pulled her roughly into his arms. “Sam,” she pleaded. “Sam.”
Her eyes traveled over him in a hungry, desperate slide and he felt himself respond to the need on her face.
“Sam,” she whispered, and he had to strain to hear her over the pounding rain. Then her voice strengthened and her chest heaved with the power of her trapped emotions. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”
Something hard and painful eased inside him, relief rushing through him like a soothing caress. “I know,” he said.
“There were three desks. My rotten uncle sold them. I was afraid that you wouldn’t understand and you’d keep the diary. I know now that you couldn’t possibly do that. You’d never do that.”
“No. I’d never do that.” The pain eased in his chest with her heartfelt admission.
His head rose off the ground. “Sam,” she begged.
He looked up at her. “Jenna, I love you.” His mouth closed over her nipple and she arched wantonly into the heat of him. She moaned his name again; the sound of it reverberated against the hills enclosing them, throwing his name back at them like an aching echo of wrenching need.
He sucked hard and she cried out and he felt satisfaction turn from an ember into a full, raging conflagration of hunger.
His hands moved up her arms, the pounding rain making her skin feel erotic and smooth to his touch. He reached for one strap and pulled it off her shoulder, then the other. He exposed her breasts to his eyes, his hand cupping the plump globes. His hands looked huge against the smallness of her exquisite body. The sight was so arousing that he hardened with painful desire. He growled low in his throat and pushed her onto her back, the gown caught between them, her upper body totally exposed to his hungry gaze. He took each nipple in turn. He moved with wild abandon against her, unable to stop the frenzy of powerful need that drove him.
Jenna reached down and freed him. His erection bracketed between her hand and the silk. Every time he moved his hips in an uncontrollable thrust, he encountered the erotic slide of the silk against his hardness.
Never in his life had he felt so out of control. The taste of her was like ambrosia, intoxicating until he felt as if the very life of her was in his blood, pumping through his heart and pulsing in every cell of his body. He couldn’t get enough of her, felt as if he’d waited his whole life to have her like this.
His mouth moved up her body to her succulent lips and he took the wet, satiny skin with a harsh demand, bordering on brutality. Jenna was not passive, and returned his kiss with just as much force, just as much demand. She knew what she wanted and Sam almost howled out loud because it was him.
She wanted him.
The nagging concerns, the terrible revelations, the betrayal faded into the world beyond the hill. There was nothing but them, nothing but the driving need that wouldn’t let them rest until it was met.
His hands roamed her body in feverish activity and where it met silk, he pushed the material away from her only to encounter silkier skin beneath.
Her hands roamed over the hard muscles of his back, through the strands of his hair, and kneaded his powerful shoulders. Where she touched, there was tingling fire that caused him to close his eyes. Having her hands on him threatened what precious little control he had left.
His hands slid down the curve of her bottom, raising her leg, lifting her and pressing her into the part of him that ached for her the most. The harsh cry that came from her made him wild with need. He pressed her back, her legs and arms wrapped around him. The softness, the wetness of her felt delicious against him. Woman, warm, his, and his mind reeled with the fact that it was Jenna who clung to him with such abandon.
He’d never loved anyone more, never craved anyone more, couldn’t ever see himself with anyone but Jenna.
The sounds of their lovemaking mingled with the heavy sound of the rain. He clasped her tighter to him and with a bucking thrust, entered her deeply. Jenna arched into him, her nails digging into his back. She cried his name in a pleasure-soaked voice. The fire of his need for her savaged him and he moved against her mindlessly, the force driving him.
She matched him in that savage moment of unleashed passion. A passion buried deep, denied after so many years, broke free and left them both shaking with the intensity of their feelings.
His body seemed beyond him. There was only the driving need to claim her, make her unequivocally his. His breathing was thready as he pulled her harder against him and she was close to the edge. He endeavored to push her over and, when she froze, an amazed look came over her face. Sam watched her slide into and relish the explosion of pleasure that swamped her and her senses.
It was the final push to his highly aroused body. He followed her into the blast, and he knew it struck at him just as sharply.
“Jenna.” His voice was rough, hoarse, full of his need for her. At the sound of her name, she clutched him tight and held on to him. In the aftermath of the climax, he felt her whole body shaking. When he raised his face, she was sobbing quietly, tears streaming down her face.
“I love you, Jenna.”
“No. Don’t say that. Don’t.”
“I have to. I want you to stay here. We can work it out. I know it.”
“I’m sorry about everything,” she said. She shook her head and buried her face in his neck and cried even harder. “Oh, Sam,” she said in a broken voice. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I wanted to protect you. I’d have to choose and I can’t. I love my music too much. I can’t give it up, not even for you. Tell me you understand, Sam. You need a woman who will be a true rancher’s wife and stand by you. You have to know that.”
“I understand how you feel about your music. I’m not asking you to change your whole life to stay here,” he said, his own voice thick, because he did understand. He understood too well. “I’m only asking for a balance, Jenna. I’m not asking you to choose.”
She raised her head, her stricken eyes causing painful damage to his heart. “I can’t,” she cried, her voice so unsteady, he could barely hear her. “It wouldn’t work. There is no balance for me. There’s only my music. It’s what my father asked my mother to do, and she couldn’t do it. Find yourself a woman who wants what you want, Sam. I’m not the right woman for you.”
“Dammit, Jenna,” Sam protested. “So that’s it. You’re leaving and there’s nothing I can say to make you stay.”
“Nothing.” She took a shaky breath, as if bracing herself. Then she continued, her voice only slightly stronger. “I have to leave tomorrow like I promised my agent. I have a tour to finish. I guess the diary must be lost.”
Clenching and unclenching his jaw, he reached down deep for control. He realized that he truly didn’t blame her. He drew her tight against his body. The rain pounded against his skin as he held Jenna, a cold, hollow feeling unfolding inside of him. This was only the eye of the storm. The other half was coming and it would be more vicious and uncompromising than what had preceded it.
Even though they’d come to an understanding, she was slipping away from him and he wondered how
he could survive losing Jenna.
THE PLANE TOOK OFF into the morning sky. Tooter, of all people, had driven her to the airport and Jenna couldn’t face him. His silence had been like a lash against her heart.
When he dropped her at the terminal, all he said was, “Have a safe trip.” Then he was gone. With a heavy heart, she had made her way to the ticket counter and then, when they called for boarding, she’d gotten on the plane.
When the seat belt sign went off, Jenna reached down and took the red diary out of her briefcase. She flipped to the page where she’d left off.
Afterward I lay in his arms, spent, satisfied and determined to see this man again. I couldn’t imagine being without him, but the reality was that I had to go back to New York and he would stay in Oahu.
As the day approached for me to leave, I got more distraught and couldn’t bear it. When he came to see me, I told him that I loved him. He was so very sweet as he took my hand and told me that he loved me, too. It was the most wonderful, glorious moment of my life. I laughed and fell into his arms.
We spent the day together. His love intensified the passion, made it fuller and richer and achingly sweet. It was all that I wanted, dreamed of.
I learned a valuable lesson from that navy officer. I learned that love was missing from the encounters. That’s why they were so empty for me. Before I left, he gifted me with a locket—a simple gold locket.
We wrote to each other every day and the moment he got out of the navy, we were wed.
His name is Daniel Chandler and I love him with every fiber of my being. My quest has ended and so has my diary.
The navy officer had been her grandfather and the locket that Jenna now wore around her throat had been the very one her grandfather had given her grandmother. Tears streamed down Jenna’s cheeks as she closed the book that had taught her so much. She touched the locket and pried open the edges. Inside was an inscription. Thanks for Taking A Risk on Me. All My Love, Daniel.