"I wouldn't do that if I were you. It causes wrinkles, even in men." She ran a finger over the furrows between his eyebrows, until he caught her wrist in his hand.
"And I wouldn't do that unless you were looking to take a risk."
Little did he know she'd already taken one by being with him. "Such as?"
"You're avoiding personal questions between us, Samantha."
Not only handsome, but perceptive, too. Was there no end to his virtues? "Maybe, but anything more will only complicate things between us, don't you think?"
He studied her for what felt like an endless moment before he answered. "Things are already complicated," he muttered. "But you're right… the natives are getting restless." He grabbed a rag, turned away and began wiping down the bar where the foam from the beer had overflowed.
She longed to say something, anything to end the sudden chill. But what? I'm a financial planner engaged to another man? I'm selling myself to the highest bidder? As much as I care about you, the course of my life is already set? Somehow, she didn't think he'd appreciate hearing any of those answers any more than she liked thinking them.
She lifted the tray and walked away. Mac watched her hasty retreat, admired the movement of her hips and wished like hell they hadn't been interrupted earlier.
"If you ask me, I'd say you struck out," Zee said with a chuckle.
"No, just crossed over the line." An imaginary one Samantha had drawn ever since their conversation about her father. Anytime he'd asked, she'd been unwilling to reveal any more about herself. With their week running out, perhaps she thought it best to keep her distance. Perhaps it was time to enlighten her that the end of the week didn't have to mean the end. He shook his head.
"If you want the lady to confide in you," Zee said, "seems to me you ought to do the same."
Mac agreed, but Samantha wasn't ready. What had begun as an innocent deception now loomed large between them. She was emotionally skittish, and he had no desire to give her additional reason to run. Whatever was keeping her from him, he didn't want his secret to make things worse.
His gaze fell on her as she worked. Ironically, as she dammed up emotionally, she opened up sexually. Who'd have thought she would greet him in the shower? Having sampled only a part of what he wanted from Samantha, Mac wasn't dumb enough to think he could keep his hands to himself any longer. Once he closed for the night, nothing would stop him from having Samantha in his bed. Hot and eager, warm and wet, pulsing around him…
"Easy, boy." Zee's voice shattered Mac's daydream.
The older man had followed his line of vision and caught him drooling over Samantha. He hadn't been privy to Mac's thoughts, but the way the codger's mind worked, he'd probably come too close to the erotic truth for Mac's peace of mind.
"She's pretty good at this," Zee said.
Making her way around the table of men, Samantha placed a beer in front of each customer, ducking, chiding and putting them off with a laugh or a shake of her head. Mac had to give her credit. She'd learned quickly how to handle a table of eager men… Except for the guy she served last His hand lingered on her waist despite her vehement disapproval, and when she tried to take a step backward, she was stopped by a firm palm on her behind and a whisper in her ear. On the rare occasion when Mac had seen it happen to Theresa, he'd always handled the situation with a detached calm that resulted in a quick resolution. No one got their feelings hurt or their bones broken. Something changed inside him when the woman being pawed was Samantha.
A raw possessiveness flooded his veins, but he forced himself to give her a second to handle things before he went charging in. He gave her a second too long, he realized as the guy rose to face her and placed a hand on her breast. Mac rounded the bar and headed for Samantha quicker than Zee could spit.
Apparently she'd learned more than Mac thought. She was also faster, because by the time he reached the table, the guy was wearing his beer on his jeans.
"Put a leash and a muzzle on your customers, Mac." She glared at the offender who was busy wiping down his wet jeans.
"Zee…" Mac nodded in the drunken guy's direction.
The older man understood. He grabbed the patron, who began ranting about harassment, and led him and his friends to the door. He'd make sure they knew they'd worn out their welcome and check that someone sober drove home. Bear's father might act outrageously at times, but when called for, he could be a formidable opponent and a good friend.
Once Mac was sure they had gone, he turned his attention to what was important. He reached for her hand and wasn't comforted to find her fingers trembling inside his. "Samantha…"
She shook her head, cutting off anything he might have said. "I'm fine." But her pallor told him otherwise. "You should have heard the things he said. He was crude and acting… I don't know, entitled. Like because I'd served him drinks, I'd like to cater to him in other ways, too." She kept wiping her hands on her clothes, as if she could wipe away the memories as easily. "Just because I serve drinks for a living doesn't mean I'll… service any slimeball that walks in here."
She spat the last few words with such anger, Mac didn't think now was the time to remind her she… Hell, he didn't exactly know what she did for a living, but he knew it involved high finance and not serving drinks in a backwater bar. But she respected those who did, which made his respect for her inch up another notch.
He glanced at his watch. Closing time was still forty-five minutes away. "Okay, folks. Whatever you drank last, consider it last call." Because the incident had been loud and public, the grumbling remained at a minimum.
Clouded eyes met his. "You don't have to close early for me. I told you I'm fine."
He wasn't. He reached for her, his hand grazing her cheek before he pushed a strand of hair off her too-pale face. "I'm closing," he said with finality. "If not for you, then for me."
"But Bear…"
"Left me in charge. I figure that gives me some rights around here."
"Who am I to argue with the boss?" she asked, some color coming back to her cheeks.
He braced his hands on either side of her face. "You did a great job taking care of yourself tonight. But I want you to know I wouldn't have let him hurt you."
"I know. Like I said, he didn't. He just… violated me somehow."
A lady like Samantha, from the world Mac thought she came from, wouldn't be used to harsh words from a drunken idiot. "Give me a few minutes to close up and this will all be a distant memory." He'd make sure of it.
Zee returned. "You okay, honey?"
She turned her sunny smile on the older man. "Fine. And thanks for everything."
"My boy doesn't run a trashy joint. I'm sorry…"
Waving away his apology, she grasped his gnarled hand. "I know what kind of place this is, Zee. And you don't have to apologize for it. Either of you." Her gaze took in Mac, as well.
Mac the bartender. Suddenly his deception didn't sit well with him. In fact, it turned his stomach.
Zee turned to Mac. "I'll get going and let you take care of things here." The old man shot Mac a pointed look before heading for the door. "Oh…" He turned back. "You still planning on taking that drive to Sedona to see your mama tomorrow?" he asked Mac.
"No. I'll put it off a few days." No sense visiting his sister and mother with a woman in tow. Mac didn't have the answers to the questions his family would surely ask.
"Okay, let me know. Maybe I'll tag along with you when you go," Zee said.
Mac smiled. "They'd like that."
"Maybe Sammy Jo would like to join us," Zee whispered as he took his leave.
Mac rolled his eyes, then wrapped his arm around Samantha's shoulders. She curled her body against his, and he took comfort in her being near.
He swallowed a raw curse. Because when sexual desire took a back seat to concern and other emotions he'd never felt before, Mac knew he was in trouble.
6
The small apartment had an even smaller balcony that overloo
ked the main road. Sam hadn't noticed when she'd first arrived because she'd had other things on her mind-like thanking God she still wasn't stranded in the desert-nor had she become aware of it afterward, because a sexy man had stolen her breath away. But now that she'd discovered the sanctuary, she made it a point to take refuge there now.
Sitting on a folding lounge chair, she curled her legs up and took in the view of the dark road lit only by a full moon and the occasional headlights of a departing vehicle. One by one, the last of the cars pulled out of the graveled parking lot below. Soon not even the roar of an engine intruded on her solitude. A cool breeze wafted on the night air, much the way contentment floated through her veins. Not even tonight's incident marred the sense of peace she'd found.
Peace she shouldn't be feeling. Not when she was lying to a man she'd grown to respect, dodging honest questions because she was afraid that if she let him get to know her, she'd want to know more about him, too. How would she leave then? How would she walk out on a life and a man she feared suited her far better than the ones she'd be returning to all too soon?
Choices, she thought. Life came down to choices, and she'd made hers the day she put Tom's ring on her finger. It wasn't important that worry over her father's future had prompted her decision, or that she'd promised her dying mother. She'd accepted. Given her word. Which made her time with Mac temporary. She'd just live their fantasy to its fullest before slipping away too soon. Her heart thudded in silent but furious protest.
The slam of the door jarred the otherwise silent night. She had company. When he joined her outside, he filled the small area with his presence. Big, solid, comforting. That was Mac. If he was in a room, she knew it. Seconds later, comforting turned to wanting. A smile touched her lips for the first time in more than an hour and she welcomed the change.
Everything Mac made her feel was good. Without waiting for an invitation, he swung one leg around and fit himself behind her back, drawing her into his arms.
Why fight it, Sam thought, nestling into his embrace. "I overreacted tonight," she murmured.
"Tossing the beer in his lap? Nah, he deserved it."
"Not that." Next time she'd try for a pitcher instead of a glass. "Getting so emotional."
"Somebody grabs you after you say no, I'd say you have a right to any damn emotion you please."
"I guess. I knew I had nothing to worry about. We were in a public place." And she'd known Mac was standing guard, and she trusted him to be there if she needed him.
"A bar is a different atmosphere than what I'm used to. In the workplace, the episode downstairs would have been sexual harassment." His hands flattened on her belly and she relaxed against him. Warmth traveled from his body to hers in a never-ending current that sensitized her skin and caused a delicious pulse to hammer in her veins.
"Are you saying that guy didn't sexually harass you tonight?" He lifted her shirt and stroked her stomach as he spoke.
"No, just that I wasn't prepared and I should have been." She'd removed her bra when she'd changed into the oversize T-shirt she was wearing, and now his thumbs softly grazed the bottom of her breasts in a rhythmic lulling motion.
She sighed and tried to focus on their conversation, although it was hard to do when his roughened fingertips stroked her already-charged skin. "But a stranger whispering what he thought were erotic things in my ear, and putting his hands on my body…" She trailed off because even as she spoke, the realization sunk in.
What would her marriage bed be but a place where a stranger pawed her, groped her… His hands on her stomach, not Mac's. Hopefully he'd leave out the titillating whisperings in her ear, she thought as she shivered with dread and disgust. Oh, God, how could she have agreed to the marriage? How could she go through with it now, having known Mac? She felt her stomach muscles quiver and tremble.
Without warning, his fingertips, along with the blissful gliding motion, stilled. "What's wrong?" She tipped her head back so she could see his face, and immediately understood what she read in his eyes.
Turning so she could face him, she ended up straddling his legs and placing her knees on the outside of his thighs. Of course, that meant his groin nestled between her legs, full, warm and inviting, but she couldn't concern herself with that now, either. The heated throbbing wouldn't be ignored, but she tried because his feelings meant more to her than sexual need. Uh-oh.
She forced herself to deal with what was important and looked at Mac. "Whatever you're thinking, stop it now."
"Even if it's true?"
She met his gaze. Clear, slate-colored eyes stared back. "It isn't." This man had ceased being a stranger the moment he'd caught her in his arms.
A connection existed between them, one she didn't understand and couldn't explain. If she was certain of nothing else, she knew he felt it, too. "If you'd stop worrying that I'll fall apart like some china doll, you'd know it, too." She placed her hand on his chest. "Listen to your instincts. Are they telling you we're strangers?"
"They're telling me I want you." A mild way of putting it, Mac thought. Need might be an even better word.
"No, that's your body talking." She laughed a husky, sexy sound that turned him on even more. Considering his erection pulsed between the vee of her legs, he figured she was right.
She was right about something else, too. No way in hell was he a stranger whispering erotic things in her ear. But what was he to Samantha? He had no idea. She never said. In fact, she'd made it clear she never would.
Since he was keeping secrets of his own, he hadn't wanted to pressure her. He'd hoped in time she would confide in him of her own free will, but that day seemed far off. He'd gotten involved in the first place because he sensed there was something special about Samantha. He had omitted a few details because he desired her respect. Now that he had it, parting was the last thing he intended to do.
"So have we resolved that dilemma?" she asked, easing herself more fully on top of him.
He exhaled a harsh groan as her warm body, covered only by thin lace, settled over his groin. Was it his imagination or had her seductive grin, an upward turn of her lips, gotten bolder as their time together wore on?
He grabbed her neck and brought her head within inches of his own. Her soft scent enveloped him, cushioning him in a cocoon of desire. "One dilemma down, one more to go," he said, before covering her lips with his.
He tasted her, first with his tongue, then with his whole mouth, until not only did she kiss him back, but she gave as good as she got. She devoured him and all he could do was feel-her pliant mouth moving against his, her hands plowing through his hair and the urgent thrusts of her hips as she tried to get closer.
She bucked against him, searching for fulfillment until he felt himself grow and swell against her damp heat. When she'd correctly decided that wouldn't work, she sat up, which pressed her concealed flesh tighter against him, and reached for the hem of her T-shirt.
Too soon, too fast, he thought. Much more and there wouldn't be time for everything else he wanted to do to her, with her. "Sam…" His belated grab for the shirt came too late. She'd pulled it off and tossed it aside before he even had a chance to stop her.
"Sweet heaven," he muttered. Faced with her bare body covered only by a scrap of underwear, those rounded breasts and her "come hither" expression, he didn't give a damn that she'd flung her T-shirt over the balcony rail.
He bracketed her hips in his palms and looked up at her. Violet eyes glazed with passion stared into his.
"I can't hold off any longer."
Her eyes darkened even further. "Did I ask you to?"
Mac took her words as an invitation. Easing the bit of lace down her legs, he was rewarded when she caught her breath in anticipation. Desire warred with gratitude for his good fortune. Someday he'd have to thank whoever rented her that clunker of a car, but right now, he couldn't think of anything but Samantha.
Juggling their position, he sat upright against the lounge, forcing her to move and
balance on her knees before him.
"Listen, Mac…" Even the way she said his name turned him on. "I think I was too… forward, that's it, too forward." She gestured over the balcony to where she'd tossed her shirt. "I never should have done that…"
"Did anyone ever tell you that you ramble when you're nervous?" He grinned, realizing the intimacy of the position she'd maneuvered had finally gotten to her.
Those contradictions not only intrigued him, they aroused him. Even her rosy blush made him hard. He wanted this woman and the innocent joy she brought to his life with a fierceness he'd never known.
"No. That is, I'm only nervous when I'm…" Her hands gestured to her beautifully naked body. "I mean I'm only nervous… when I'm with you… like this." She tried to cover herself with her hands. "So I think…"
His fingers slipped from her hips to her thighs. She gasped aloud. "Don't think, Sammy Jo." Her eyelids opened wide. "And definitely don't move." He parted her legs with his hands, dipped his head and tasted her warm, waiting flesh.
If he died and went straight to hell in the next moment, he wouldn't give a damn, Mac thought. Because he'd just been as close to heaven as a mortal could get.
* * *
Her knees buckled and her body swayed. Not exactly the reaction Sam had envisioned having, but oh, sweet heaven… And that's where he was bringing her… now that he'd switched their positions and lowered her onto the lounge chair. In her wildest fantasy-and since meeting Mac she'd had plenty-Sam had never dreamed it could be like this.
The skin on her thighs tingled, chafed from where his whiskers had rubbed her flesh. Her muscles quivered, seeking more of the exquisite sensations.
"Don't ever shave that mustache," she murmured. "At least not while I'm around." A little voice reminded her that wouldn't be much longer. She ruthlessly pushed it aside.
"Wouldn't think of it, sweetheart," he chuckled. And then his mouth worked its way up her inner thigh, purposefully letting his mustache trail against her skin once more. At least she thought it was on purpose, because the rasp of male whiskers had her body jerking upward, nearly taking her off the seat.
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