Harlequin Kimani Romance January 2018 Box Set

by Reese Ryan

  “That’s it. Just breathe. Slow and steady.”

  His brain shot on a hundred cylinders, but he processed her comforting tone. After several minutes he was back to normal—or as normal as he could be after something like that. Drained, plus somewhat embarrassed, Roth lowered himself to a seated position, propped his arms on his bent knees and lowered his head. Tressa moved behind him and kneaded his tight shoulders. Nothing had ever felt better.

  “Bad dream?” she said in a near whisper, her words delicate.

  “Nightmare.” He scolded himself a second later. The door had just been opened to her questioning. And just as expected, she walked through.

  “About?”

  She continued to manipulate his tired muscles.

  “Come here.” Roth secured Tressa’s naked body in his arms with one swift motion. His eyes combed over her ample breasts, and he fought the desire to dip low and suck one of her dark nipples into his mouth. His hunger stirred, but he tamed the beast.

  A moment later his eyes slowly climbed to meet her gaze. He stared down into her sympathetic eyes. “Would you be upset if I said I didn’t want to talk about it right now?” The unwanted memories that occasionally haunted his dreams weren’t easily discussed.

  Tressa fingered the cross around his neck. “Of course not.” Her eyes slid to the pendant. “This is beautiful.”

  “It was a gift from a very special woman.” He witnessed the flicker of confusion and/or concern on her face and flashed a half smile. “My ninth grade math teacher.” He admired the piece. “I was actually pretty smart in school. Some would even say gifted. But I rarely applied myself, because no one ever influenced me to do so.” Her expression turned serious. “Until Mrs. Sanders.” Roth laughed. “She pulled me into her classroom one day, literally by my ear. She sat me down and said she saw something in me, something good. And that since I wanted to act like a wild mustang, she’d stay on my behind until I was tamed.”

  Tressa burst out laughing, then covered her mouth.

  “Go ’head. Laugh at my pain.”

  “Sorry,” she said through her fingers. “Continue, please.”

  “The next day Mrs. Sanders gave me this necklace. She said it was a reminder. A reminder that she and God would always be in my corner.”

  “Wow.” Tressa blinked back the tears the powerful words summoned.

  Roth brushed a stray hair from her brow. “Thank you, Tressa.”

  “For what?”

  He captured the hand she’d used to place his over her heart and kissed the inside of her wrist, then her palm. “For sharing your energy with me.”

  “It was the least I could do. You gave me a lot of your energy earlier.” Her beautiful mouth curled into a delicate smile.

  “Some moments from my past…” He paused. “I carry a lot of them with me, Tressa. It gets heavy sometimes.”

  “You carry the load well. You’re one of the strongest men I’ve ever met, Roth Lexington. You may have gone through hell, but you managed to come out on the right side. Your past haunts you, but…I ain’t ’fraid of no ghost.”

  Roth barked a laugh. “Beautiful, funny and sexy as hell.” And one hell of a woman, because, in so many words, she’d told him she had his back.

  “Yeah, you lucked out, sir. I’m the whole package. If I had a collar, I’d pop it.”

  Roth dragged an index finger down the center of her chest. “If you had a collar, that would mean you were wearing a shirt. I much prefer you butt naked and screaming my name.”

  “You up for showing me how much?”

  “If you’re up for taking it.”

  Tressa sat forward and hurried her mouth to his. He tried his damnedest to consume her whole. Roth avoided labeling what was happening between them. This powerful, intense, amazing chemistry that held him prisoner to her. Whatever it was, he prayed it never ended.

  * * *

  After experiencing the warmth of Roth’s arms all night, Tressa didn’t need to crack her eyes to know she was in bed alone. The chill confirmed it. Reaching for the sky, she stretched her tired muscles. She and Roth had made love in front of the fireplace several times, found their way to the bed and made love several more times.

  Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she sat there for a moment, recalling her night with him. A wide smile curled her lips. The smile dimmed when she thought about the panic attack he’d had. By the look on his face, he’d been embarrassed. He never had to be ashamed in front of her. Especially over anything in his past. The light and the dark moments, she’d embrace them all.

  After a trip to the restroom, Tressa slid on one of Roth’s shirts, tossing her nose up at the grandma gown he’d purchased for her at the general store and headed downstairs.

  Roth was out on the deck, wearing nothing but a pair of pajama pants and a thin long-sleeved shirt. Was this the same man who’d nearly turned into a Popsicle when they’d played in the snow?

  Strapping into her winter apparel—a toboggan, gloves, coat—and her boots, she joined Roth. The snow continued to fall in a steady shower, but not as heavy as the day before, suggesting it was nearing an end. The fact saddened her.

  “Roth, where is your coat? You’re going to catch pneumonia out here.”

  Roth bunched her coat in his hands and pulled her to him. Against her lips, he said, “I don’t get sick,” then kissed her senseless. Pulling away, he said, “Good morning.”

  It took a second or two for her brain to reboot after that spine-twisting kiss. “Good morning.”

  Tressa initially contributed the target warmth heating her cheeks to her body’s reaction to Roth, but then she noticed the black box affixed overhead. “What is that?”

  Roth followed her stare. “An infrared heater.”

  “Huh.” Why hadn’t she noticed it before? Her attention slid to the stacks of colorful construction paper scattered on the tile-top table. “Is this arts and crafts hour?”

  Roth barked a laugh. “No. I like making paper airplanes.”

  Considering his profession, that made sense.

  “It helps clear my mind.”

  Tressa was tempted to ask him what had his mind cluttered, but figured it had something to do with his nightmare. Maybe soon he’d feel comfortable enough to talk to her about his past.

  “Pick a color,” he said.

  She pressed her index finger into her chin. “Hmm.” Then she settled on a steel blue color. Roth folded, tucked and creased before handing a fully formed plane back to her, along with a fine-point black Sharpie marker. “What’s the marker for?”

  “For writing a message on the inside of the plane.”

  “A message? What kind of message?”

  “Anything you want.”

  Tressa hesitated for a moment, attempting to understand the purpose of this whole message-writing-on-the-plane thing. She laughed to herself. That sounded like a movie. “Who’s going to read it?”

  “No one.”

  Okay, now she was really confused. “We’re writing a message that no one will ever read?”

  “Yes. That’s the beauty of it. It’s like confession without the priest.”

  Roth scribbled something on his paper. She shrugged. What the hell. If no one was ever going to read it, what could it possibly hurt? Hmm. She tapped the marker against her bottom lip. What could she write? Something funny? Something ridiculous? A quote? So many choices. Her eyes slid to Roth. Something intimate. He had said it was like confession.

  After she was done, Tressa refolded the paper, unsure if she should have written a love note to him. But the fact that no other human eyes would ever see it helped to put her mind at ease. “What now?”

  “Now we exchange.”

  A hint of alarm rushed over her. “But you said—”

 
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to read it.”

  A second or two passed as she debated whether or not to trust him with the plane. Reluctantly, she passed it over. “And now?”

  “Now we throw them.”

  Before Tressa could even process what was happening, the steel blue paper soared through the air. Her mouth fell open and her eyes went wide in disbelief. “What—You—Why did you do that?”

  A quizzical expression formed on Roth’s face. “Do what?”

  “Throw it.” Her voice rose an octave.

  Roth laughed. “That’s typically what you do with paper planes.” He flashed her a suspicious look. “What in the heck did you write on there, your Social Security number?”

  That actually would have been better. “Um, an…old family recipe. It’s top secret. I could be tossed out of the family for revealing it.”

  She bit back a laugh, but Roth didn’t. He burst into laughter, then wrapped her in his arms from behind.

  “Don’t worry. Your recipe is safe. We’re in the middle of nowhere, and bears can’t read. I don’t think.” He kissed the back of her head. “Your turn, gorgeous. Just aim and fire.”

  It took a second, but she realized how ridiculous she was being and laughed at herself. Why was she so worried? Roth was right. They were in the middle of nowhere. Who did she think would come across her plane way out here? No one, she assured herself. No one, she repeated for good measure.

  It was probably just lying out in the wet snow, waiting to be consumed by a mountain lion. Heck, even if someone did happen upon it, who would know it was from her? No one. Yep, that last no one made her feel so much better.

  She released Roth’s plane. What did he write? she wondered. Guess she’d never know. “Wow. Those little suckers sure did glide through the air.”

  “I hope your, uh, recipe wasn’t too explicit,” he said.

  She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. Scratch that. She was sure she hadn’t liked the sound of that. “Why?”

  “The last time I released planes, several made their way all the way into town. Imagine my surprise when I saw one pinned up in the general store. Good thing it was only a motivational quote.”

  Tressa’s stomach dropped to her knees. “All the way into town, huh?” Her gaze slid through the trees and to Silver Point in the distance.

  “Yep. I got skills. I’m reigning champ for longest distance and airtime in the Southeastern Paper Plane Competition. Skills.” He kissed the back of her head again and pinched her butt. “I’ll make us some breakfast.”

  Reigning… Paper Plane Competition? Forget food, she needed a shot of something strong.

  CHAPTER 9

  Roth lowered the book he’d been reading and peered over the top at Tressa sitting at the opposite side of the couch, engulfed in a Maya Angelou book of poems. He smiled. Man, she was engaged. The only other time he’d seen her this intense was when he’d sent her airplane sailing away the day before.

  And speaking of airplanes… What in the hell had she written? Was it something about him? He recalled the way her body had tensed in his arms when he’d mentioned the possibility of her plane reaching town. Yep, it’d been about him.

  He laughed to himself. That was presumptuous as hell, but he was rolling with it. “What did you write about me?”

  Tressa’s eyes slowly rose to his. “Excuse me?”

  “On your plane. What did you write about me?”

  Tressa placed the book facedown on her lap and folded her arms across her chest. “That’s awfully presumptuous of you, sir.”

  “Well, ma’am, it’s obvious you have a thing for me.”

  She tried to suppress a smile that broke through despite her efforts. Sobering, she said, “Oh, really?”

  “Yep.”

  “And how, Mr. Lexington, did you come to this conclusion?”

  “Well, Ms. Washington, first, it’s the way you look at me.”

  She laughed. “And how do I look at you?”

  “Like no woman has ever looked at me before. Like you truly see me.”

  Tressa’s expression turned serious and so did his. The tender ways she looked at him revealed she saw something more than a vessel for sex.

  “I do see you,” she said. “Even the parts you try to hide.”

  And that was what he feared, her seeing the parts he wanted to keep hidden. He didn’t want to scare her away. He also didn’t want to give too much, too soon. Just in case. Throughout the years, he’d been used to far more things not working out than actually working.

  Conversation seized, and they gaped at one another.

  Tressa was the first to break the silence. “You said first. Does that mean there are more reasons?”

  There were, but did he want to list them? What the hell? “The way you touch me.” He interpreted the expression on her face and answered the question before she asked. “Like you’re trying to heal me, despite having no idea how deep my wounds run.”

  “I will.”

  “You will what?”

  “One day I’ll have an idea.”

  And she was probably right. Especially if he kept giving her pieces of himself. It was like he couldn’t stop, like Tressa was meant to free him of some of the baggage he lugged around. Now seemed like the perfect time to ask an important question. “Should we talk about what’s happ—”

  “No,” Tressa said.

  Her tone held its signature levelness. The reply surprised him. He thought for sure she’d jump at the opportunity to discuss or define this beautiful magnetism. He arched a brow. “No?”

  “We should just let it happen naturally. Just feel.”

  “That’s my line.” And it brought back some damn good memories.

  “Is it copyrighted?”

  Roth lunged forward, blanketing Tressa’s body with his. “Copyrighted? I’ll show you copyrighted.” He tickled her until she laughed so hard she snorted, which made him laugh just as hard.

  Roth couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so amused. He laughed so hard his sides began to hurt. By the time they settled, they both had tears running out the corners of their eyes. Instead of returning to his side of the sofa, he nestled against Tressa. She rested a delicate hand on his cheek.

  “I see you, Roth Lexington, and I like the view.”

  He shifted his head to kiss her palm. “I’m not finished showing you who I am. Just be patient with me.”

  “Okay.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “You’re warm.”

  “Being this close to you makes my temperature rise,” he said.

  “Flirt.”

  Roth intended to kiss her, but before he made contact, Tressa pinned him with accusing eyes. “I think you’re catching a cold.”

  He sighed. “Like I told you before, Nurse Washington, I don’t get sick.”

  * * *

  Several hours later Roth felt as if he’d been dragged up the entire mountain by a raggedy snowplow. Instead of Tressa saying, “I told you so,” she instantly shifted into caregiver mode, forcing him upstairs and into bed, despite his protest.

  He stared at the ceiling, bored out of his mind and lonely. “Tress… Baby, where are you? I miss you.”

  Damn. They’d only been apart twenty minutes. Plus, she was only a flight of stairs away. Yet, he missed her. Then it dawned on him. He didn’t have a cold; he was experiencing symptoms of withdrawal. He laughed at the silly analogy. This was definitely a cold, and he felt like crap.

  “Men are such babies when they’re sick,” she said, nearing the bed with a steamy bowl of something.

  He pushed himself up onto his elbows. “What’s that?”

  “Chicken-and-rice soup.”

  He really didn’t feel like eating, but she’d gone t
hrough so much trouble. To show his gratitude, he could surely get down a few swallows. “It smells delicious.”

  Tressa took a seat on the edge of the bed, scooped up a spoonful of the fragrant liquid, blew it to cool it down, then fed him.

  “Mmm. Woman, you do have some major skills in the kitchen.”

  “Just in the kitchen?” A mischievous grin spread across her face.

  Oh, if he had the energy—and a cootie-free status—he’d have taken her right there. “Tease.”

  After he’d got his fill, Tressa placed the bowl on the nightstand, butted her back against the headboard and directed his head onto her lap. She stroked a hand over his cheek. Why did her touch soothe him so much?

  “Just rest.”

  Relaxed, Roth allowed his eyes to close. In his adult life, there had only been one woman he’d allowed his guard down around, and she’d hurt him. He’d sworn to never allow himself to be in that position again. And he’d managed to stick to his vow. Until now. Until Tressa. She’d become the exception to his ironclad rule.

  With his ex, the connection had never been as strong as the one he felt with Tressa. Not even after the two years they were together. A part of him wanted—knew he needed—to pull away from this thing blooming between them. But the part of him that liked the way she looked at him, liked the way she touched him, loved how he felt when he was with her, beckoned him to stay, to risk.

  “You’re supposed to be resting, Mr. Lexington, not stewing in your thoughts.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’ve noticed that whenever you glide your thumb back and forth across my skin like that, you’re in deep thought.”

  Damn. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it. He shifted to eye her.

  Tressa smirked. “You’re not the only observant one around here. I told you I see you. In vivid color.” She winked.

  Overwhelmed by the emotions storming inside him, all he could say was, “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  Well, since she saw so much, did she see how hard he was falling for her?

  * * *

  The following morning, Roth was still fast asleep when Tressa snaked from the bed. She didn’t readily move away. She watched him sleep. He looked so adorable.