by Ryanne Corey
“Hundreds. And do you know what makes you different from all these people?”
Something in his warm-brandy eyes sent prickles sparkling along her spine. “No. What?”
“This.” His mouth dipped to hers before she could react, his lips dragging over hers with a gentle rocking pressure. His kiss was warm, silken, moist, soft…so many sensations she could hardly identify them all. A sparkling sweetness rippled to the depths of her body, stunning with its pure intensity. His breath swirled with hers, his tongue ever so lightly urging her lips to a willing openness. Maxie’s hands turned traitor, closing tightly over fistfuls of his shirt and holding on for dear life. She hadn’t been kissed in…oh, so very long. And never, ever like this. She felt his fingers in her hair, stroking the long dark strands, angling her head to deepen the kiss. Like a puppet, she answered to every pull of invisible strings, opening her lips, wanting this man who had been a stranger not two days before. She felt enclosed in a cocoon of luscious warmth, her breasts pressed against his chest, her body straining against the welcoming curve of his hips. His mouth left her lips to leisurely explore her chin, her neck, his tongue tracing a soft, slow circle in the hollow of her throat. A shudder ran through her, hard and deep. Her lips felt like a peach in the summer sun, ripe and swollen with heat and sugar. Connor slowly drew back his head to stare at her with heavy-lidded, passion-drugged eyes. He touched the curve of her shining bottom lip with one shaking finger, a line of fierce intensity etched between his brows.
“Boy meets girl,” he whispered. “And suddenly…the whole world is different. Maxie…”
“What?”
He looked blank for a second, then his eyes softened with self-deprecating humor. “I don’t know what I was going to say. Just…Maxie.”
This time his lips were curled with a smile when he came back to her, smiling when he pressed kisses on each side of her mouth, smiling when he brushed the hair back from her face and kissed her closed eyelids, one at a time. “You’re exquisite,” he said, cradling her face in his palms and staring at her with more intensity than any photographer had ever shown. “Your skin tastes like roses. And that mouth…that fallen angel mouth of yours has been driving me quietly out of my mind.”
“You’re never quiet,” Maxie gasped, her head dipping back weakly as he explored the baby-soft skin behind her ear with his lips. “Connor…”
His hands went exploring, slipping to the straining fullness of her breasts. Instantly the nipples hardened beneath his fingers, and it was all he could do to keep his touch gentle and undemanding. There was a fierceness building in his chest, a hungry fire pooling in his loins. He felt drugged, as if he were experimenting with an unknown substance that was terribly powerful. “What?”
“That’s all. Just…Connor.” She held on to his shoulders like a lifeline, willing her knees not to give out on her. “Just…you. I like saying your name. I like the way your eyes smile. The people I used to know…they never smiled with their eyes. You could never trust their smiles.”
There was an undercurrent of loneliness in those words, giving Connor a glimpse of the life she had led for too many years at too young an age. He knew the world of the rich and famous. He’d been born into it, more or less, fully educated and prepared by the sophisticated attitudes of his own parents. But a fourteen-year-old from Wyoming? Dear Lord, little Frances Maxine Calhoon never stood a chance. Eventually she’d managed to escape from that world, but not without her scars. Strange when you considered she had been the envy of nearly every young girl in America. What a terrible difference there was between perception and reality.
He closed his eyes, hating the knowledge that such a tender person had been so hurt.
“What’s wrong?” Maxie asked softly.
He pulled back slightly, wondering what sort of expression was on his face. He didn’t want to scare her. Hell, he didn’t want to scare himself, but the emotions he felt were very real. Every cell in his body was alive and aching for her. This was need on a new level, a level he had no experience with. Need to protect her, need to soothe and cheer and gratify her. No matter how close he held her, he didn’t think he would ever be close enough.
“Nothing’s wrong, beautiful girl.” He kissed her parted lips one last, lingering time. “Except I don’t know how to let you go.”
Maxie reached up a shaking hand to thread her fingers dreamily through his tumbled hair. “Then we’re going to get awfully cold once the sun goes down.”
His dazzling smile accepted the challenge. “I could keep you warm.”
“Oh, I’ll just bet you could,” she said softly. She kissed him lightly on his strong jaw, then quickly ducked beneath his suddenly empty arms. “We need to leave now, Mr. Garrett.”
He turned, the set of his lips suspiciously similar to a pout. “And why do we have to leave now?”
She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him, her violet eyes flirting outrageously as she continued walking slowly backwards to the car. “Because,” she purred softly, “I don’t want to.”
She took off running, leaving the former football quarterback in the dust.
Six
Maxie had spent eight long years pretending to be someone she wasn’t. She had posed just the way she was told, walked in a certain way, dressed as people expected her to dress. She had been an invention of others, clothed, painted and sprayed to suit whichever client she was working for, whichever product she was endorsing. No one admired the woman beneath the mask, because no one had been interested in getting to know the woman beneath the mask.
Then Connor Garrett had found his way to her.
Initially he had set out searching for Glitter Baby, but the woman he’d found was Maxie Calhoon—flaws, fertilizer and all. Lord knew there was no mysterious aura surrounding her these days. Still, unless she was much mistaken, Connor seemed to prefer the reality to the myth. She was still cautious, naturally, but it was getting harder to deny the curious lightness in her heart, the feeling of delicious anticipation.
She looked sideways at him as they drove back to the ranch, noting the bands of flushed color still on his cheekbones. His profile was quite perfect, almost as good as a full face shot. She played those words back in her mind and started to laugh. Definitely too many years spent in front of the cameras.
“Did I miss something?” Connor asked curiously.
“No.” Maxie smiled, shaking her head. “Sorry, I was just preoccupied with…something.”
He cleared his throat. “Why do you keep looking at me? You’re making me self-conscious.”
Maxie shrugged, deliberately turning her head toward the window to hide her smile. “So who made the rule that says women can’t look at men? You make a darn cute cowboy.”
“Oh hell, please don’t start that again.”
“Sorry.” Then, with a giggle, “Did you know you blush around the ears when you’re embarrassed? It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”
He bristled. “The hell you say.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Still laughing, Maxie tipped her head back on the seat. It had turned out, she decided, to be the most wonderful afternoon. Even now her body felt pleasantly heavy, unfamiliar and ripe with lingering desire. How strange it all felt, this burgeoning physical and spiritual connection with another human being. She’d spent so much time insulating herself against just that.
She wondered if she ought to ask him to stay for dinner. She didn’t want to seem too eager, yet neither was she ready to say goodbye. The soft, lingering euphoria surrounding her was still tickling her, playing with her senses. It was intoxicating, and if she had the antidote to this sweet poison, she would probably toss it out the window. It was far more interesting, she decided, to sit back, relax and wait for whatever happened next.
And what happened next turned out to be a surprise for both of them.
Still hot around the ears, Connor turned down the dirt road leading to her ranch house. He’d told himself all the w
ay home he wasn’t going to make a pest of himself and ask to come in. If he pushed too hard, she might be scared off. He’d made quite a bit of progress, and didn’t want to ruin things by being too demanding. It was so important he did this right. He’d never experienced this intense fascination with a woman. Everything Maxie said, everything she felt was important to him. She didn’t know how she looked to him today, sun-flushed and natural, her wonderful eyes sparkling with simple happiness. Oh, those eyes…they were a mirror for every thought she had.
“So what are you doing tonight?” he asked, trying and failing to sound casual. “Any plans?”
“Oh, you know, pretty much what I do every night. Chores and…stuff.” Do I ask him to stay for dinner?
“I had a good time today. I hate to see it end.” How obvious can I be?
“So did I,” Maxie said softly, meeting his bright, coaxing eyes. “I never said thank-you for the chocolate picnic, did I? You went to a lot of trouble for—” She stopped, brought up short by the beige Toyota parked in front of her house. “My mother,” she ended lamely.
Connor shook his head, wondering what he’d missed. “Your mother? You think I went to a lot of trouble for your mother?”
“No, I just meant…” Maxie gulped, pointing at the cheerfully smiling woman waving from the front porch. In her neon-orange sweater, she stood out like a flagman on the highway. “That’s my mother.”
In Connor’s worst nightmares, he had not anticipated meeting Maxie’s mother while his body was still tense with passion and the only thought in his head was getting Maxie back in his arms. “How nice,” he said. “There she is, standing on the porch.”
“There she is,” Maxie repeated, glancing in the rearview mirror. Her swollen lips looked thoroughly kissed, her eyes heavy-lidded and her cheeks blazed like poppies. “Well…would you like to come inside and meet her?”
It was the invitation he had hoped for, but not precisely the circumstances he’d anticipated. “I was hoping you’d ask.”
Natalie was so pleased, she could hardly contain herself.
She was seeing a side to her daughter that absolutely delighted her. She’d wondered how long it would take for Maxie to heal from her scars, how long it would be before her isolation became more lonely than comforting. She wanted nothing more than for her daughter to lead a normal life, particularly since she would always feel responsible for allowing Maxie to undertake a modeling career at such a young age in the first place.
“So, the two of you had a picnic,” Natalie said to Connor. She was sitting in the recliner while Connor had taken the sofa. Obviously he wasn’t relaxed. His hands were folded prayerlike in his lap and his posture was painfully erect. She wondered impishly if he realized he had grass stains on his knees and a leaf tangled in his hair. “I can’t tell you how delighted I am. I’ve always thought Maxie should get out more. And with this Indian summer weather, you had a nice, warm day for your outing.”
“Very warm.” Connor glanced longingly at the front door. Maxie had changed her clothes and gone outside to see to the cows nearly thirty minutes earlier. How long did it take to see to the cows? “Your daughter is wonderful company, Mrs. Calhoon.”
“Call me Natalie. Maxie told me how she met you, Connor. Your tenacity is impressive. No one has been able to track her down for more than two years.”
“I want you to know something,” Connor said quietly. “I met her initially because I wanted to interview Glitter Baby. But the woman I’ve come to know, the woman I spent time with today is Maxie Calhoon. She is a remarkable woman.”
Natalie smiled faintly. “I’ve always known that. And believe me, Maxie wouldn’t be spending time with you if she felt your interest in her was anything but genuine. She learned quite a bit living out there among the wolves.”
“You seem quite happy her career is over.”
“Happier than I can tell you. Maxie’s father was not an easy man to live with. I was afraid Maxie would never know what self-esteem was unless she was allowed to leave. Needless to say, that turned out to be a terrible mistake on my part.” A shadow crossed her features. “She nearly didn’t survive. When she finally came home, she was a fragile wisp of a thing. It took her forever just to learn to eat and sleep again. I blame myself for that.”
“You must be very proud of her now,” Connor said gently. “She seems to love this life she’s made for herself.”
Natalie nodded, brightening. “She does. I’ve never seen her so happy. I would hate to see anything mar that.”
They understood one another. Connor told her as much with his faint smile. “That makes two of us, Natalie. I would never allow anyone or anything to hurt your daughter.”
Natalie was quiet for a long moment. Then, choosing her words carefully, said, “I’m sure you wouldn’t hurt her intentionally. What you may not realize about my daughter is that she’s still quite nave, quite vulnerable. Maxie never went to a high-school prom, never went off to college, never even had a serious boyfriend. She missed all that. When other girls were shopping for a prom dress, Maxie was working the Paris fashion shows. She never went to the mall with her friends, never had a teenage crush, never went to high-school football games. All those experiences—and the emotional maturity that comes with them—Maxie missed out on. Photographs of her show the most polished celebrity you can imagine. The reality is quite the opposite.”
Natalie watched him digest her insights with great interest. Usually she was a good judge of character, and Connor Garrett struck her as being a sincere and caring man. Still, one couldn’t be too careful. Her daughter was a very special human being, and it was obvious Connor had found a way beneath her defenses.
Their gazes met, then Connor looked down at his clasped hands. “Are you asking if my intentions are honorable?”
Natalie laughed, a husky, delicious sound that reminded Connor forcibly of Maxie. “No, no. I just wanted to tell you be careful with her. She’s unlike anyone you’ve ever met, Connor. When Maxie finally gives her heart, it will be for the first and last time in her life.”
He smiled, liking Natalie’s direct attitude. “You’re very much like your daughter, do you realize that? No smoke screens, no pretenses. I admire that. I don’t know many people in this world who practice unvarnished honesty.”
“It’s a lost art,” Natalie acknowledged, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “It can also annoy other people tremendously, which is why I would advise not telling Maxie about our little talk.”
Connor grinned, imagining what Maxie would do had she been eavesdropping on their conversation. “I value my life, Natalie. It’s not much, but it’s mine own. I can safely promise you I won’t tell Maxie a thing.”
“Lovely. That’s the kind of unvarnished honesty I like.”
They were still laughing when Maxie walked in the door. “And here I worried the two of you might be feeling uncomfortable,” she said, looking curiously from her mother to Connor and back again. “Being strangers and all. Mother, what have you done?”
“Nothing,” Natalie said indignantly. “Surely you don’t think me incapable of carrying on a polite conversation?”
“How rude,” Connor put in mildly. “Your mother has been very gracious.”
“What were you laughing at?” Maxie persisted.
“I told a knock-knock joke,” Natalie explained. She stood up, giving her daughter a brief hug. “Darling, I have to run. It’s been lovely seeing you.”
“But you haven’t seen me,” Maxie said, bewildered. “At least stay for dinner—”
“I really can’t, sweetie. Next time.” She gave Connor a bright smile over her shoulder. “Goodbye. It was lovely meeting you. And thank you for laughing at all my jokes.”
“No,” Connor said quietly. He stood up, offering Natalie his hand. “Thank you.”
Maxie closed the door behind her mother, then turned and gave Connor a look that said she wasn’t fooled a bit. “I know my mother,” she announced. “She does no
t tell knock-knock jokes.”
Connor shrugged. “Oh, but she does. She should do standup comedy. Her delivery is excellent. How were the cows?”
“Very well, thank you for asking.” Maxie gave him a sugar-sweet smile as she pulled off her rubber boots. “I love a good joke, Connor. Tell me.”
He looked at her blankly. “Tell you…?”
“My mother’s joke. I’ll refresh your memory. Knock-knock…”
“My lamentable memory,” he sighed. “Forgive me, I’m just a poor, dumb football player…at least I was. Have I ever told you how fetching you look in overalls?”
Maxie immediately assumed a sultry expression, planted her hands on her hips and “walked the walk.” Six steps forward, half turn, pause, six steps back. “The latest in prestained overalls,” she intoned haughtily. “A must for the style-conscious milkmaid.”
Connor’s smile was slow, sexy and a little wicked around the edges. Even when she was parodying herself, she raised the temperature in the room by twenty degrees. “Only you could make a pair of overalls appealing, Frances Maxine. C’mere.”
She shook her head, laughing. “I smell like a Holstein. If you’ll give me a minute to shower, I’ll fix you something for dinner. What do you feel like?”
He caught her eyes and held them. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
“I don’t know what the world is like where you come from, mister, but around here we treat milkmaids with respect.” Maxie giggled, giving him a wide berth as she walked towards the bedroom. “Give me ten minutes to clean up. And then, cowboy, I’ve got a real treat for you. Just how much do you know about old-fashioned western hospitality?”
Connor looked hopeful. “I’ve heard rumors.”
Maxie wiggled her eyebrows at him, her smile luminous. “They’re all true. Just you wait and see.”
“That’s not how you spell lingerie.”
“Of course it is,” Connor replied.
“You left an i out, between the r and the e.”