With the sun shining brightly, the sidewalk cafés along Cooper and Hyman avenues were crowded and noisy. After window-shopping for nearly an hour, Audrey chose one of the restaurants with an available outdoor table and settled down with a glass of wine and a plate of nachos. She watched the strolling families, the young couples on bikes, the tanned women with long legs and sun-streaked hair and arms laden with packages and the sexy, well-built men in their designer tennis shorts and matching shirts. She’d never seen in one place so many obviously wealthy people, people whose lives were marked by class and sophistication, by personal fitness trainers and face-lifts. These were people who’d be at home on a ski slope here or in the casinos of Europe or in a designer fashion salon in Paris. She’d noted the prices in the windows of some of the stores and she doubted if she spent in a year what some of these people had just spent in a single shopping spree.
Catching snatches of the conversations around her, she found that there were physicians here for conferences and musicians taking part in the Aspen Music Festival. The talk ranged form surgical procedures at one table to violin sonatas at the next with a violent debate over an upcoming tennis tournament at yet another. For such a small town, which had been built up by the excellence of its facilities for skiing, Aspen had an astonishing array of sports, as well as intellectual and cultural activities to attract a well-to-do summer crowd.
She found that she was fascinated by it all, but not particularly envious that this wasn’t her natural environment. She had most of the things she wanted in her life—dear friends, job security in a stimulating atmosphere, a small savings account, the ability to travel occasionally. The only thing missing, really, was love. And now Blake had promised her that, if she wanted it, if she could accept such a gift, offered after so short a time, as real.
Acceptance was getting less and less likely with every minute that passed, however. She was beginning to feel abandoned, beginning to share Harvey’s doubts and the wisdom of remaining. She wondered if Blake had called by now or if he was off again in pursuit of some other woman, some other challenge.
Suddenly a hand reached across the low railing that separated the café from the pedestrian mall. Familiar fingers picked up her glass and Audrey’s gaze followed the disappearance of her wine until her eyes clashed with Blake’s impudent face. His hair was still damp and unruly from his shower. He was wearing khaki shorts that revealed lean, muscular, perfectly formed thighs. His short-sleeved polo shirt was blue, just one shade darker than his eyes. The effect was casual. It was also overwhelmingly masculine. It took her breath away.
“Miss me?” he inquired, taking a sip of the wine and promptly grimacing. “This isn’t mine.”
“Sorry. Yours wasn’t on the wine list. Be thankful I didn’t decide on Mexican beer.”
With one quick move and no invitation, he had stepped over the railing and sat down across from her. He picked up a cold nacho and nibbled on it, making another face. “You haven’t answered me yet. Did you miss me?”
She gave a deliberately exaggerated shrug. She would not give him a direct answer to that question, if he tortured her. Staring closely at the remaining nachos as if selecting one were an incredibly important decision, she said nonchalantly, “Why would I miss you? I’ve been busy shopping.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Why?”
“No packages.”
“Ah.” Damn.
“If you’re going to try little white lies on me, don’t make them so easy to check out,” he warned with a twinkle in his eyes.
“I’ll keep that in mind. How was the competition?”
“I won.”
“Fantastic.” Her excitement for him was genuine. “Does that keep you even with Hammond?”
“Yes. Tomorrow will break the tie.”
He seemed surprisingly reticent, almost disinterested. Only yesterday this race had been the most important thing in the world to him. Now something else was clearly on his mind and she thought she had some idea what it might be. “How did it go with the reporters?”
He shrugged. “I gave them enough of a story to keep them happy, but I suspect they’ll be back for more. Just as Harvey anticipated, they’re all curious about the mystery woman who was with me.”
Audrey grinned in spite of herself. “Don’t you ever tell Harvey this, but I think I like the idea of being a woman of mystery.”
“Do you really?” There was an odd note in his voice.
“Blake, is there something wrong?”
“You tell me.”
“We’re talking in circles here.”
“Sorry. You’re right. I’ll be more direct. I thought you were going to wait for me.”
“I did. Then I got hungry and I wanted to get in a little sight-seeing. How did you find me?”
He was twirling her wineglass around in nervous fingers. He seemed fascinated by the process. Finally, he looked up, his expression chagrined, and said, “You mean after I broke into your room and found out you hadn’t left town after all?”
Audrey groaned and examined his face for some sign that he was joking. “Blake, you didn’t.”
He nodded seriously. “Oh, yes, I did. The motel manager was very understanding, though. I guess he must deal with a lot of crazy men in love. He’s replacing the lock now, at my expense of course.”
Her voice softened. “I told you I would stay.”
“I know, but I was afraid Harvey might have talked you out of it. I panicked when I got there and you were gone.”
“Harvey tried to talk me into going home.”
“How come you didn’t listen? I’m sure he mounted a very persuasive argument.”
“Oh, he did. Told me all about what a rake you are.”
“Didn’t you believe him?”
“Absolutely. I had you pegged from the first, remember.”
“But you stayed anyway.” His lips curved in a pleased half smile.
“I wanted to.”
“I’m glad.” He studied her closely for several endless minutes, until she felt the blood rise in her cheeks. “Tell me something,” he said finally. “I want you to think about it and be completely honest.”
“Anything.” Her heart hammered as she waited for the rest. He looked so serious all of a sudden.
“Am I just another risk you’re determined to take?”
The question threw her. With a sudden flash of insight she realized it might be true, that Blake might be her way of trying to put the past at rest. How could it be anything more in so short a time? She wanted it to be, but she wasn’t sure. How on earth could she explain that to him?
She didn’t have to. Blake sighed at her hesitation. “I was afraid of that.”
“No, Blake, really,” she denied. “It’s more than that. It’s important. At least I want it to be. I just don’t know exactly what it is yet. Love? Infatuation? A risk? I’m not sure. You, what’s happening between us, it took me by surprise. I haven’t had these feelings in a long time.”
“You took me by surprise, too. I came up here with one thing on my mind and a little imp stole my heart instead.”
“Now you tell me something. Is the pace going to change now that we’re on the ground, maybe slow down a little so I can catch my breath?”
“Slow down?” he repeated incredulously, his mouth curving into a devilishly wicked grin that made her heart flip over. “No way. I’m going to be sweeping you off your feet.”
“I thought we’d agreed that I need a little space,” she said, an edge of desperation in her voice.
“A little, not the whole damn state. When you start feeling crowded, you say something and I’ll give you room to breathe, but we’re going to explore the feelings together, not from different places. Starting tonight...” He hesitated. “If you’re ready.”
She dared a glance straight into his eyes. To her relief that look of blazing, unrelenting desire was there again, as strong and clear as ever. It made her weak with longing.
Suddenly getting some space didn’t seem nearly so necessary or so attractive. She was drawn to Blake in ways that had little to do with rational thought and everything to do with powerful, compelling emotions that she no longer wanted to resist.
Before she could have any second thoughts, she said boldly, “Care to go back and see how they’re coming with the lock on my room?”
Her voice shook, but this time it was Blake who seemed stunned into silence. “And?” he said cautiously.
“We can test it to make sure it works.”
He sucked in his breath. Without another word and without taking his eyes from hers, Blake threw several crumpled bills, far more than necessary, on the table and took her hand. “Let’s go.”
He dropped her hand the instant they were on their way. It was as though he was afraid to touch her and, as they walked, his expression grew increasingly troubled. They were less than a block from the motel, the tension between them mounting, when he stopped and looked down at her. He took her chin between thumb and forefinger and tilted it up until he could read the expression in her eyes.
“If you didn’t mean what I thought you meant back there, I may never forgive you.” He tried to make a joke of it, but she could hear the strain and hope in his voice.
Audrey grinned at him impishly. “What did you think I meant?”
“That you wanted to make love.”
“Perceptive man.”
He released a ragged sigh and draped an arm around her shoulders. “Thank God.”
Unfortunately, Harvey was sitting in the middle of Audrey’s bed when they returned, newspapers scattered all around, a pair of scissors in his hand.
“Where the hell have you two been this time?”
Blake and Audrey exchanged a thoroughly frustrated glance.
“How did you get in here?” Audrey demanded.
“The manager said I could wait. He was here with some guy fixing the door.” He gazed pointedly at Blake when he said it.
“Leave, Harvey,” Blake said.
Harvey blinked up at them. “What?”
“You heard the man,” Audrey concurred. “Out of here.”
“But we need to talk strategy.”
“We can talk strategy to your heart’s content some other time,” Blake said. His voice rose imperiously. “Not now.”
Harvey’s eyes widened, then he took a really good look at Audrey, who was standing there feeling like an embarrassed schoolgirl caught necking by her parents. “Ohh,” he muttered. “Sorry, I’ll see the two of you later.”
“In the morning, Harvey. At the festival site.”
Grumbling under his breath, Harvey went to the door, then turned and scowled ferociously at Blake. “If you hurt her...”
He never finished, because Blake interrupted. “I won’t hurt her, Harvey. That’s a promise.”
Ten
The minute the door closed behind Harvey, Audrey’s heartbeat quickened. She wanted to call him back and ask him to stay for a drink, dinner, dessert, maybe even a late-night movie, anything to prevent her from being alone with Blake in this ugly room that suddenly seemed to be dominated by its queen-size bed. She heard the ticking of every one of her alarm clocks echoing in the thickening silence. Not one of those clocks was marking time as rapidly as her pulse.
Breathless, her eyes wide, she stared at Blake, tall and boldly handsome, filling the doorway with impressive, barely leashed energy. What on earth had she been thinking of when she’d brazenly suggested they come back here? Surely there were better, safer ways to test her emotional strength. She should never have picked a pirate, a man who could steal her heart so easily she’d wouldn’t recognize the loss until it was far too late.
But, God help her, she wanted him to touch her, wanted her blood to slow and thicken into sweetly throbbing torment.
Just as desperately she wanted to touch him, to feel his muscles flex and tense under her caress, to have his ragged, desire-paced breath sing its mating song in her arms. She wanted that feeling of being spectacularly alive and one with another person. This person. Whether her choice or fate’s, this was destined to be. Forever. For now. Who could tell?
Admittedly, though, she was terrified by the implications. This would be no casual fling, no holiday affair that left her with memories but no scars. She’d never been able to handle that sort of thing anyway. Being with a man, loving him, had always meant offering him her heart as well as her body. Somehow, after all the months of self-recriminations and pain after Derek, she knew she was finally ready to do that with Blake. In a very short time he had given her back her self-respect, encouraged her attempts to grow and be strong.
Though Blake had claimed to love her, she wasn’t sure he really wanted a lasting commitment. Perhaps Blake was the kind of man who gave love easily and just as easily took it away.
Knowing him for barely more than a full day, even if they had been intimate, emotionally grueling hours for her, was hardly a test of a relationship’s endurance. The real test would come in the weeks and months to come, when they were back in the real world of endless hours on the job and responsibilities and other emotional ties.
Now, however, with Blake moving toward her, his eyes blazing a seductive message, was no time to be having second thoughts. For all of its potential for heartache, she wanted this time with Blake, wanted to discover if the warmth and sensitivity could last, wanted the magic of the past twenty-four hours to go on for as long as it could. Yes, part of that was because she wanted to take a risk, to prove to herself that she was capable of loving again. She could only pray that she wasn’t being unfair to either one of them by asking so much of a single night.
“We should have champagne and roses and candlelight,” Blake said softly. “I wanted to do this right, to make it special.”
“That’s not what makes it right and it is special. All those things are in my heart,” she said candidly.
He stepped closer and his heat surrounded her, lured her like a candle’s flame. She lifted a hand to his chest. The pounding of his heart beneath her touch gave her courage. His shirt collar was open and dark hairs glinting with golden highlights tempted her to press her fingers against flesh that burned hot beneath its rough, masculine covering. The pulse at the base of his throat beat furiously and his breathing grew uneven. But he stood patiently giving her time to make her choices, time to lead the way.
This time it was Audrey who moved closer, suddenly needing to touch her lips to the strong column of his neck. The kiss, combined with the clean scent of soap and his warm, musky scent, sent ripples of delight cascading through her. When she trembled, she put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself and found his muscles tight with the tension leashing both his considerable energy and his even more potent desire.
Shyly meeting his gaze, she found his lips parted, his eyes closed and a look of astonished pleasure on his face. She was responsible for that expression. The realization made her feel almost giddy with power and weak with relief. It gave her the much-needed boost of courage to stand on tiptoe and slant her mouth boldly across his, to run her tongue along his teeth, then dip inside when he gasped and held her close, his arms tightening possessively around her. The kiss deepened, became an urgent, breathtaking moment in time.
If the other kisses they had shared had been wonderfully exciting, this one was pure bliss, unfurling passion in gentle waves.
When the kiss ended at last, a mere pause in the promise of more, he said gently, “It’s been a long time for you, hasn’t it? This isn’t something you do lightly.”
She nodded.
He met her embarrassed gaze with tenderness and caring. “I know what you think about my reputation, but it’s been a long time for me, too. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll protect you.” His fingers grazed her lips as he vowed as well, “I won’t rush you, sweetheart. We have the rest of the night and more, if you need it.”
“I need you now, Blake,” she whispered, wondering if he could possi
bly know how true those words were, if he sensed the urgency that tore at her. She needed his loving, she needed him to make her forget the past, to bring her into the present, perhaps even to hint at the future. “Now, please.”
He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. When she reached for the buttons on her blouse, he stilled her fingers. “Let me.”
One by one he slid the buttons free and as her shirt fell away from her flesh, his lips caressed, his tongue savored. Her body arched into his scorching touch, seeking a remembered pleasure, but finding something surprisingly new and better. The light burning brightly in his eyes revered her in a way that made her tremble with awe and humility that he could feel so much for her. That glint of primitive desire left her wondering how it could be that she’d never known that loving could be this gentle and yet so intense that it reached the core of her with its consuming, white-hot flames.
Clothing vanished, as if by magic, and Blake’s hungry mouth and possessive touch were everywhere. He stroked. He teased. He massaged. Every caress was more devastating than the last, until she was certain she would shatter into a million pieces before he was done. It was wonderful. Thrilling. But much too much.
She was vulnerable in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to be since Derek. The memory of the last time they’d been together—the shouted accusations, the cruelty, so much worse because it had come so unexpectedly—flitted through her mind and left her suddenly cold and very, very frightened.
I won’t let him do this to me. I won’t. Blake is different. We can be different.
With a small cry she reached out to Blake, drawing him closer, urging him to offer more of those pleasure-pain kisses that made her breasts achingly full and sensitive. She lifted his shirt and ran her fingers over smooth, hot flesh and corded muscles. In a single smooth gesture, he pulled the shirt away. She had seen that bare chest with its shadowed triangle of hair before, had felt the wicked temptation to trace its path, but it was nothing compared to the sensation of knowing that she could do just that, that for tonight at least Blake was hers.
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