by Neesa Hart
The tangy juice of the grape tickled the roof of her mouth. She visually searched through the milling crowd at the foot of the hill for sight of the boys, but her attention remained firmly focused on Zack’s solid heat. “Why should he trust you?” she asked. “There hasn’t been a single man in his life who’s given him reason to trust anybody.”
“What about you?” In a sudden motion that dragged her gaze from the crowd and fixed it firmly on his face, he shifted so that his body trapped hers against the tree. Though he wasn’t actually touching her, his compelling presence held her captive. “Who do you trust, August?”
“This isn’t just about me, Zack. I’ve got four lives to consider.”
“I know.”
“Odelia is ready to do just about anything to get rid of me. Even worse, she’d use any excuse she could to hurt my boys.”
“Tell me why, August.”
“Because she wants us out of here.”
“That much is obvious.” He laid one hand on her shoulder. “Don’t you want to tell me what you’ve done to get that woman to dislike you so much?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” she confessed. “I just know that since the day I got here, especially since the day the boys got here, she’s been determined to run us out of town.”
Zack frowned. “The boys didn’t come with you to Keegan’s Bend?” he asked.
“No. They came later.”
“Why did you bring them here?”
She thought about answering him, then changed her mind. “That’s none of your business.”
“Would it be my business if I told you I want to go to bed with you?”
His eyes had turned a smoky gray. “Are you always this blunt?
“Not always. Just when it seems more prudent to lay my cards on the table than try and hedge around the conversation. I’ve been thinking about what it would be like between us since the first time I saw you across the fence. Unless I miss my guess, you’ve thought about it, too.”
“All right,” she said. “Since you asked, no. It wouldn’t make a difference. My boys like you. They really like you, and I’m not going to let you violate their trust.”
“What’s between you and me has nothing to do with the boys,” he said. He stood so close, the spicy tang of his aftershave tickled her nostrils. His voice had dropped to that low, rumbly tone that always made her insides quiver. He had the barest hint of an accent, something she couldn’t place. It was slightly foreign, dark—exotic, even.
And it always made her mouth grow dry. “What do you want from me?” she whispered.
“I think you know the answer to that.”
“Things you can’t have.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t even know what they are yet.”
“I’m not going to let you hurt my boys.”
“Are you protecting the boys, or yourself?”
Both, she thought. “It doesn’t matter. All they’ve got is each other and me.”
With a slight smile, he leaned close enough for her to feel the warm whisper of his breath on her cheek. “And you don’t want to talk about it?”
“That’s right.”
“Good,” he said. “As it happens, I’ve got other things on my mind right now.”
“Other things?” she asked, before she could stop herself.
His eyes twinkled. “You want to know what they are?” His voice had that note in it again. She couldn’t take her gaze from the firm contours of his mouth.
A sliver of heat that had nothing to do with the weather worked its way down her spine. She couldn’t seem to tear her gaze from the challenge in his. Even her hair seemed to have come alive under his close scrutiny. A warning note sounded in her head, telling her that she was way out of her league with this man. His was a life of sophistication and culture. She sharpened her wits on a small-town council and a pack of kids. Still, he held her under a spell, as if she were a captive feather on a summer breeze. His closeness pulled her into an unfamiliar vortex. With a strange sense of inevitability, her lips parted around the question “What?” but she didn’t think any sound emerged.
Something forbidden flared in his eyes. In their depths, she saw the pirate she’d fancied him to be, a man who plundered and stole, who ruthlessly took what he wanted. “For two weeks” he drawled, his breath fanning a moist caress on her face, “I’ve been consumed with wondering things like whether or not your hair is as soft as it looks.” His slight accent seemed to thicken. “I wonder if all. the curves under your clothes are as sexy as I think they are. About what it’s going to be like when I make love with you. Are you the quiet type in bed, or do you purr a lot?”
The words made her breathing turn shallow as they skittered across her already sensitized nerves. “I don’t think—”
He interrupted her by flicking a curl off her cheek. “I’ll bet you’re a purrer. I love that in a woman.”
She was quickly losing control of the conversation. “This isn’t right,” she said. “Someone might see us.”
“No one will see, querida.” he insisted. The Spanish endearment wrapped around her like a hypnotic cloak. He was no longer the man living in the house next door. He was a pirate come to sweep away her world. Her heart seemed to stop beating. He leaned closer, to mask her view of the crowded fair. His presence blotted out everything but the roar of her pulse in her ears. “You make my blood heat, and my skin tingle, and my pulse race, and my—”
“Stop, Zack. I want you to stop.”
He paused for the space of several heartbeats. “Why don’t you tell me about Ned Jacobs?” he prompted. She should have known he wouldn’t miss Chip’s allusion to Ned. His lawyer’s mind was practiced at remembering conversational details. “Does he affect you like I do? Does he make you quiver when he’s got his hands all over you?”
“You’ve never had your hands all over me,” she said. “How would I know?”
“Want to find out?” he whispered.
Like she wanted to keep breathing. “This is insane.”
With a gentle push, he fully pinned her against the tree. The rough bark pricked at her flesh through her knit shirt, but the sensation paled in comparison to the extraordinary feel of him leaning over her body. He planted a palm on either side of her shoulders. “It’s insane, all right. Totally, mind-shatteringly, arousingly insane. From the first time I saw you standing in May Belle’s pen, all I could think about was the way it would feel to touch you.”
She struggled for equilibrium. “If I was in May Belle’s pen, I was either giving her a vaccine or taking her rectal temperature.”
The quip dimmed none of his intensity. “It was the vaccine,” he said. “The sight of you sticking that needle in her butt really turned me on.”
“You’re teasing me.”
“Oh, no, I’m not. You’ve been thinking it, too. Ever since the beginning.”
“I have not.”
“Come on, August.” He rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “Don’t play games. I don’t want to play games.”
“You are seducing me,” she said.
“I’m sure as hell trying.”
“I don’t want you to.”
He bent his head to touch his tongue to the sensitive whorl of her ear. “Tell you what,” he said, his voice a husky rasp against her ear. “I’ll make you a deal.”
“A deal?” She was fast losing her concentration.
“Yep.” He lifted his head to meet her gaze. The glare of the sun seemed to sharpen the angles of his face. “Let me kiss you one time. If you don’t like it, we’ll quit. I mean really quit. I’ll go back to Jansen’s place and stay there. But if you do like it, we’ll just see where things take us.”
“You’re pretty sure of yourself.”
He flashed her a wicked grin. “You scared?”
“Of course I’m not scared.”
“So you accept?”
“I didn’t say I—”
“Oh, shut up, August,” he said. He
lowered his head and took her lips in a long, soul-searing kiss.
August thought she’d been kissed before, thoroughly kissed. But Zack Adriano was fast changing her mind. His kiss stripped away every reserve, every layer of normalcy, of civility. His firm mouth moved over hers in a hot, liquid caress. He rubbed against her lips while he coaxed her into responding. When his tongue slid along the curve of her lower lip, she gasped in surprise.
Zack didn’t waste any time pressing his advantage. He slid his tongue deep into her mouth, stroking her in a way that was so intense, so seductive, so suggestive of a deeper intimacy, that August’s lungs stopped working.
He trailed one hand down the length of her arm, until his fingers laced with hers. Bringing her hand to his hard chest, he pressed it against him. “Touch me, querida,” he whispered, before he covered her mouth again.
Her fingers slipped inside the open neck of his shirt to skate along the muscled plane of his chest. She felt his heat through the worn cotton of his T-shirt. He groaned when she found his flat nipples. Inflamed by the small sound, she pressed closer to him. With a muffled expletive, Zack cupped her bottom in one hand, and brought her fully against his solid length. With his other hand, he found the hem of her shirt. In seconds, his warm fingers were sliding over naked flesh. When he encountered her lace-covered breast, she heard him suck in a ragged breath. She was drowning in sensation. He’d destroyed any thought of caution, of sanity. His warm hand rubbed against the aching peak of her nipple. It sent a streak of lightning through her blood. She moaned and leaned into him, pressing her breast into his palm. She needed him, needed this. How long, she wondered, since she’d felt this sweet sense of obliteration? How long since she’d allowed herself the purely physical satisfaction of touch? Zack’s caress awakened a long-suppressed hunger in her soul. Now, he could pay for it. He’d deliberately tempted until he knew she’d turn to putty when he touched her. If her response shocked him, so be it. August needed him, needed this. He’d offered. Now he’d have to give it to her.
Her thighs were wedged against his, her fingers were tangled in the hair at his nape, her lips and tongue were greedily sucking at his mouth, when she heard the footsteps coming up the hill.
Footsteps. With a guilty start, she pushed at Zack’s shoulders. He eased slowly away. Her entire body trembled at the loss. Chip stood watching them with avid curiosity.
“Whatcha doing?” he asked. “Kissing?”
August choked. Zack reached over and calmly helped her adjust her clothes. “Sure were,” he said. Chip wrinkled his nose. “Kissing’s gross.”
Zack grinned at him. “Tell you what, Chip, I’ll check back with you in about ten years. We’ll see if you still think it’s gross.”
“You had your tongue in her mouth,” Chip insisted.
August buried her face in her hands. Zack gently rubbed his fingertips on the skin at her nape. She’d had no idea she was so sensitive there until she felt the scalding heat of his touch. She raised her head to look at Chip. “I thought you were at the fair,” she said, hoping her voice sounded at least partially normal.
Chip scooped up the ball and glove he’d left by the picnic basket. “I forgot my lucky ball. I need it to win a bear.” He glanced at Zack. “Are you gonna come help?”
“In just a minute,” Zack said.
“August says you gotta throw the ball real fast.”
“It’s not speed that counts.” He gave her a smoldering look. “It’s accuracy.”
She frowned at him. “Stop it.”
Zack chuckled in her ear. She felt the warm rumble all the way to the soles of her feet. He leaned down and whispered, “If you behave, I’ll show you my technique.”
She scooted as far away from him as she could, turning her attention to Chip. “Go on back, Chip. We’ll be down in a minute.”
He glanced from Zack to August, then mumbled something beneath his breath before racing down the hill. August had to fight the urge to press her fingertips to her tingling lips. His scent lingered on her skin, as if he were still leaning over her, still kissing her. Soap and aftershave and something indefinable mingled to form an intoxicating lure. That, August guessed, was the smell of testosterone. She wiped a hand through her tousled hair. “I’m sorry. Things got out of hand.”
His eyebrows lifted a fraction. “Don’t apologize.”
“I don’t usually jump on men like that.”
A slight dent—id she dare call it a dimple?—appeared in his left cheek. “Last time I checked, you weren’t doing all the jumping.”
“Still, I let things get out of hand.” She met his gaze, refusing to be embarrassed. “I promise it won’t happen again.”
Zack’s chuckle sent her pulse to the moon. “God, I hope you don’t mean that.” He gently tucked two stray curls behind her ears. “For what it’s worth, I’ve never liked women who play games. I’m attracted to you. Unless my instincts are completely haywire, you aren’t exactly oblivious to me, either.”
August had just opened her mouth to reply when the sound of shouting carried up the hill. With a frown, she glanced past his shoulder. “What in the world—”
Zack scanned the crowd for the source of the confusion. When he spotted a large pig barreling through the crowd, with seven little bodies in its wake, he gave August an amused look. “What were you saying about trouble?”
“Oh, no.” She surged to her feet. “That’s Sam’s pig.”
“And she’s headed right for. the reviewing stand.”
“Where Charlotte Anne Keegan is reciting the Gettysburg Address.”
Chapter Four
By the time Zack and August reached the reviewing stand, hell had broken loose. Henry Derden skidded to a stop next to August.
As Luanna, Sam and Jeffs pig, ran laps around the stand, Zack counted seven heads. Chip was dragging his baseball glove behind him. Even Bo had managed to get a smudge on his usually spotless clothes. Sam was sneezing as he battled his way through the dust Luanna left in her wake. Lucas glared at young Charlotte Anne, who steadfastly continued with her recitation of the Gettysburg Address, despite the chaos.
Wiping his sweating forehead with a bandanna, Henry gave August an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, August. Emma and I were letting Jeff and Sam show Luanna to the boys when she got out of her pen. Something must have spooked her.”
August’s expression turned to one of comic horror as Lucas tried to corner Luanna between the reviewing stand and the dessert table. Charlotte Anne had stopped reciting and started yelling orders at Lucas. Lucas was telling her to keep quiet, and Luanna was squealing at both of them. Sam had managed to work his way around to the other side of the table. Luanna took one look at the rope in his hands, then darted toward the dessert table, her head bent low. When she rushed the table, cakes, pies and jelly molds soared into the air. A large dish of ambrosia splattered down the front of Charlotte Anne’s dress.
Confused and frightened, Luanna began turning circles as the boys closed in on her. With dirt streaking their clothes, and sweat dampening their hair, they looked like a street gang.
Huffing and puffing, Emma Prentiss joined them. “Land sakes, that pig sure can run.”
“Emma—” August put a firm hand on her shoulder “—you shouldn’t be running around in this heat.”
“Somebody’s got to catch that pig.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Zack said. He glanced over his shoulder as August steered Emma toward a shaded park bench. Fifteen men, and most of the town’s children, were now trying to help corner poor Luanna. “Luanna’s going to be fine.”
“Why don’t you sit here, Emma?” August guided her down on the bench. “It’s cooler.”
Zack snatched a water pitcher from a picnic cloth and poured out a glass. As he pressed it into the older woman’s hand, Luanna let out a frightened squeal that carried on the balmy afternoon air. Amid the howls and shouts of the crowd, the frightened pig took off toward the stables.
“Oh, G
od,” August groaned.
“This is worse than May Belle,” Zack told her. “Renegade animals are becoming a habit with you.”
“I’ll get her, August!” Henry shouted as he started off after the crowd. “Don’t worry!”
“August Trent.”
The screech of Odelia’s voice was easily recognizable over the din. With poor little Charlotte Anne in tow, Odelia marched over to their spot by the bench. “You’ve really done it this time,” she said. “You’ve managed to ruin a perfectly fine holiday celebration.”
August met Odelia’s acid stare with a weary look. “Looks like everybody’s having fun to me.” She indicated the throng chasing Luanna through the streets. With a kind smile at Charlotte Anne, she said, “I’m sorry about your dress, sweetheart.”
“It’s okay,” the child said. “I didn’t—”
Odelia gave her arm a jerk that looked strong enough to wrench it from the socket. “Hush up, Charlotte Anne. This is adult talk.” When she turned on August again, a dark anger burned in her gaze. “I told you something like this was going to happen.”
“Odelia, I think you’re overreacting. There’s no damage done.”
“Overreacting?” Odelia’s lips pulled into an ugly frown. “Only you would say something like that, August Trent. You’ve allowed those little demons of yours to completely disrupt a town event, and you say I’m overreacting?”
August dragged a hand through her already unruly hair. “They’re little boys. They act like little boys.”
“They’re delinquents. And they belong behind bars.”
August’s temper snapped. Between the heat of the day, and the way her body still trembled from Zack’s touch, she simply didn’t have the stamina to maintain her calm. This time, Odelia had pushed too far. “This has gone far enough,” August snapped. “I have tried everything I Know to get you to lay off my kids, but if you can’t see reason, then I’ll have no choice but legal recourse.”