Jane dipped a washcloth into a bowl of water and cooled down his heated skin, her fingers sliding leisurely over his chest. On impulse, she bent down to plant a tiny kiss on one of the larger bruises. Mac lifted his good arm and stroked her head, weaving his fingers through her hair. Then he guided her head up and leaned forward, showing Jane what he wanted. Their lips met briefly, a sweet, healing kiss that made her heart flip and Mac smile. “You give great TLC.”
Jane withdrew, stood up and headed for the end of the bed. She took a daunted look at his boots, then, with a steadying breath, pulled and twisted and finally yanked, until one boot came off, sock and all. “Not such good TLC here,” she offered.
“I’m not complaining.”
The other boot came off easier, and Jane felt a surge of satisfaction. She walked over to Mac, lying there bare-chested, looking vulnerable and sexy all at the same time.
“Can you manage your pants?” she asked, holding her breath.
Mac tried leaning forward, then bit back a howl of pain. He rested his head on his pillow. “Don’t think so.”
“Okay,” Jane said, reaching for his belt. She unhooked it, then slid her hands down to his zipper, the evidence of his bulging manhood hard to miss. “Mac, I thought you were injured.”
He didn’t bother holding back a devilish smile. “Nothing hurts below the waist.”
Jane stared down at him.
“Touch me there, and I can’t be responsible for my actions.”
Jane swallowed. “Is that an invitation or a warning?”
“Both,” Mac said, the teasing glint in his eyes gone now. The heat of his gaze penetrated her, warming her all over. “It’s crazy, you know. Denying what we both want.”
Apparently, Mac had sifted though his own denials, to come up with the truth, too. “I know,” she whispered, though she knew that she wouldn’t deny Mac anything, not ever again.
Jane reached for his zipper.
Eight
Mac had been furious with her when she’d butted into Lizzie’s business. He hadn’t wanted anyone, especially Jane, to interfere in his relationship with Lizzie. Jane had just come to Winchester and she didn’t know his history. She didn’t know the heartache Mac had endured trying to salvage an unsalvageable marriage. She didn’t know how Lyle Brody had interfered on his sister’s behalf, causing even more strife between them.
But the minute he’d walked out of Sully’s tonight, bloodied and bruised, the knife swipe having just missed his chest, cutting instead into the beefy part of his arm, all Mac could think about was Jane.
Getting to her.
Seeing her.
Wanting her.
He’d wasted too much time with her, too much of his life. That close call had him forgiving Jane everything. He’d forgotten all about his anger, and thought only about being with her.
And as she slowly slid his zipper down, the proof of his feelings were reflected in a powerful erection that only Jane could satisfy.
He watched her work his pants off without too much difficulty. She looked at him tentatively as she held his trousers to her chest protectively. “Wish I could undress you,” he admitted softly.
Jane smiled, her lips parting in a subtle move. She dropped his pants, letting them fall at her feet. Without a second thought, she removed her tank top, the material catching on her breasts before being flipped over her head.
Mac sucked in oxygen. “Wow,” he muttered, watching her necklace catch the moonlight where it nestled in the hollow between her breasts. She wore the jewelry he’d given her every day, and he’d felt a stirring of pride and possession.
She stood beside him now and leaned over. “You could unhook me.”
Mac reached up behind her to unfasten her bra. He tugged slightly and the white cotton undergarment fell through his fingers. Her breasts toppled out, full and lush, and he groaned. “You’re killing me, Jane.”
“That’s not what I had in mind to do to you, Mac.” She bent down for a kiss, but he grabbed her around the waist, pulled her onto the bed and settled her on his thighs. She straddled him, her legs on either side of him. But he needed to feel her, skin to skin, so he guided her body down until her breasts rested on his chest.
His lips met hers urgently, sealing their fate with a long, hot, wet kiss that went on and on. He drove his tongue into her mouth, searching for and finding its mate. They sparred and teased and played feverishly, Mac stroking his hands through her soft blond hair, his fingers tugging and releasing the strands.
The feel of her breasts pressing into his chest, the soft subtle sounds she made, the unabashed passion she gave him were almost too much. Mac didn’t think his erection could become any more potent.
Finally, she pulled away slightly, her breathing as labored as his. “I’m crushing your chest. It must hurt,” she said.
Mac shook his head. “Only when you leave me.”
Jane bit her lip, unsure.
“I mean it, sweetheart. You’re not hurting me.”
Jane settled back down, and Mac realized that nothing had felt better, or more right, in his whole life.
He kissed her deeply again, then lifted her easily at the waist, guiding her higher so that he could moisten the very tip of her nipple with his tongue.
“Oh, Mac,” she moaned as he cupped her breast and continued to slide his tongue up and around and over the rosy tip until it peaked and pebbled.
Her next long, pleasured moan nearly brought him to the edge. “I need to be inside you, Jane,” he managed to gasp, his voice hoarse with need.
He reached down to her jeans and fumbled with her zipper. Jane helped him, and he almost lost it again when she shimmied out of her pants. She helped get his boxers off, then did a little wiggle to get out of her own panties.
“Reach over to my nightstand, sweetheart. We need protection.”
Mac prayed he still had a condom or two in there. It’d been a while.
When Jane carefully slid across him, coming up with one, Mac silently sighed with relief and quickly managed to secure the condom in place.
He held her waist and guided her body, positioning her over him and lowering her. He slipped his full erection inside her, joining them together with one slow, deliberate thrust.
As she took him in, she closed her eyes, parted her moist lips and tossed her head back as if savoring the moment. Mac had never seen anything quite so beautiful in his whole life. Deep, heady sensations washed over him as he watched this sexy, mysterious woman slowly move on him, her body’s natural instincts taking hold as she raised and lowered with each of his thrusts.
In sync, in rhythm, they moved together, Jane huffing out little throaty breaths and Mac moving more forcefully now as their momentum escalated, higher and higher.
He reached up to caress her breasts, rubbing his thumbs over her peaked tips until she ground out his name. The intense look on her face brought him a new brand of pleasure as he watched her ride the waves of their passion. Up and down, faster, harder. Mac took hold of Jane’s hands, interlacing their fingers, connecting them in every way possible.
He felt her shudder. Her muttered moans and pleas as she breathed out his name gave him the ultimate satisfaction. “Oh, Mac.”
He plunged deeper, thrusting one final time as she came down hard, and then, in tandem, they both shuddered violently with completion.
Mac lay breathless, Jane atop him.
They stared into each other’s eyes.
Moments ticked by and yet neither spoke.
Jane appeared a little stunned.
Mac felt the same way.
Finally, he lifted his lips in a crooked, cocky smile.
Jane smiled back.
Then he kissed her deeply. “That was worth the wait.”
Jane slid her body sideways to curl up beside him, her arms wrapped around his neck. “Mmm. I don’t think I’ve ever…um.”
Mac lifted his head to stare down at her. “Ever?”
She cast him
a shy smile. “Not that. I mean, I don’t think it’s ever been so good.”
He inhaled deeply. “You don’t know that, for sure.”
“Oh, I think I do, Mac.”
He trusted her on that one. Of course, it did his ego good to do so, and he believed a woman would simply know those things. But there was so much to Jane that neither of them knew about. There was so much he wanted to know and so much he feared knowing.
He reminded himself that her memory could return at any moment, but it was too late for guarding against his heart. He couldn’t think rationally when it came to Jane. Not anymore. Not after tonight.
For once in his life, Mac took a chance that fate might work in his favor. He couldn’t think past that. He didn’t want to. This time around, he would take a gamble.
Jane was worth the risk.
Bacon sizzled in the pan, eggs boiled and Jane stared out the kitchen window, still in awe, her body humming from making love to Mac last night. He’d been breathing strongly and steadily when she’d left him minutes ago to allow him the rest he needed. He’d been injured last night, and Jane couldn’t contain the fear she’d felt seeing him bruised like that. She couldn’t contain her relief, knowing that his injuries weren’t life threatening. But mostly Jane couldn’t contain the love swelling up inside her. Deep, fresh emotions sang in her veins, and her heart was awash with guarded joy. She wanted to feel every sensation, let it seep in and take hold, but a part of her held back. A part of her worried about Mac’s reaction.
He had been reserved—resigned, really, to not getting emotionally involved with her. He’d been the responsible one, the one who faced facts. Jane didn’t know her past, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have one.
She prayed that Mac wouldn’t wake up this morning and tell her that they’d made a mistake last night. She couldn’t bear the blow to her heart if that happened.
Just as that thought settled in her gut, Mac stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and dragging her body up against his. She leaned back against him, resting her head just under his throat.
“Morning,” he said, nibbling her earlobe, his lips warm and inviting.
“Oh, Mac,” she said quietly, relishing the feel of his arms around her once again. “It is a good morning, isn’t it?”
“The best,” he said softly, running his hands up and down her rib cage in a soft, sensual caress.
The frying pan crackled as the scent of bacon permeated the air, reminding her of the breakfast she’d wanted to present to Mac this morning.
She turned around in his arms to look at his face. Dark patches of bluish-purple appeared harsher in the daylight, more pronounced, but his eyes held hers with warmth and feeling. She reached up to gently outline a bruise just above his temple. “How are you this morning?”
“Pretty darn good, sweetheart.”
“Really? I thought after you got hurt last night you’d wake up sore. How’s your chest? Can I do anything to—”
He bent his head and kissed her soundly, pretty much cutting off her words. She had trouble formulating any coherent thoughts as well, falling into the kiss with total abandon. Mac was a take-charge kind of guy, and Jane decided she liked that about him, especially now as his mouth claimed hers and his hands took charge, roaming over her backside, stirring up wildly wicked thoughts.
“That’ll do just fine,” he said, ending the kiss and taking a step back. He sighed and scrubbed his jaw. “I missed you in bed this morning.”
“I wanted to make you breakfast. You need your nourishment, Mac. Especially after last night.”
He cocked her a lopsided smile. “Seems to me I held up pretty well. You’re the one who didn’t want a second—”
“Mac!” Jane’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t believe he would be so open and earnest about their lovemaking. Jane hadn’t wanted to exhaust him after he’d been involved in an altercation that left his ribs bruised and his body battered. It had been hard refusing him, and Lord knew she wanted him again, but she’d been worried about his physical condition. “I was speaking about the fact that you’d been in a fight last night.”
Mac laughed and spun around to turn the knob on the stove. “Appreciate the thought, but I’ll have to take a rain check on breakfast. I’m late getting to the station. I need to make out my report.”
Jane hid her disappointment. She’d hoped it wouldn’t be business as usual today. “Okay.”
“Are you…okay?” he asked. “About what happened last night?”
She wouldn’t pretend; she knew he was referring to the night they’d spent in bed together. “It was wonderful, Mac.”
“Yeah,” he said, and then he sighed again. “Are you going to the bookstore today?”
She nodded. “I had planned on it.”
“Could you take the afternoon off?”
“Sure. Do you need me to do something? Is it regarding my case?”
He shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I’m going in to fill out my report, then I’m taking some time off. There’s something…someplace I want to show you. Will you come with me?”
Does the sun shine? Is Paris a city? “I’d love to.”
“Great, I’ll pick you up at the bookstore later on. Oh, and wear comfortable clothes, nothing fancy, and don’t wear those boots. They’d get ruined where we’re going.”
“Is this all yours?” Jane asked, her gaze roaming across the land surrounding a beautiful adobe ranch house. Mac had driven twenty miles out of town, to the verdant side of a mesa. Pike’s Peak could be seen in the distance, and he had pointed out the amazing Kissing Camels rock formation.
“About twenty acres of it is mine,” he said, and she couldn’t miss the obvious pride in his voice. “This place was a wreck when I bought it. The house was in shambles and the property was in foreclosure.”
“How long have you had it?” she asked, still pretty much stunned at this new facet of Mac’s life. He was a private man, with private thoughts, and the fact that he wanted to share this with her was nothing short of spectacular.
“About eight years. I’ve been working on the house in my spare time.”
Eight years? About the length of time Mac had been divorced. Jane wondered if he’d needed a place, something to rebuild, something to make his own, after his marriage failed. Perhaps working on the house, fixing it up had been a sort of therapy for him.
“It’s lovely.”
He chuckled and guided her forward. “Wait until you see it up close before you say that.”
Mac showed her in, and the massive ranch house instantly became a cozy refuge once she stepped foot inside. “I’ve got more work to do, but—”
“No buts, Mac,” Jane said, taking a leisurely walk around, making note of a stone fireplace, wood beam ceilings, an inviting sitting area, wide bay windows that brought the outside prairie land inside. “This is unbelievable.”
She turned to face him. He let out a deep breath and smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”
“What’s not to like?”
“Some people would think it too…rustic, too remote. It’s just a rural home.”
“It’s more than that. I love it. When do you have time to come up here?”
“Weekends when I’m not working. Vacations. It’s not so far that I can’t stop by in the evenings, either. Sometimes Duke and Daisy Mae get lonely.”
Jane raised her brows in question.
“My horses. Well, Duke is mine. I bought Daisy Mae for Lizzie. She comes up and rides with me once in awhile. I hired the neighbor’s daughter, Angie, to feed and ride them when I can’t get up here. She’s real good with the horses. I was hoping you’d like to ride today. Do you know how?”
Jane thought for a moment, unsure. “I don’t think so. But I’m willing to learn.”
Mac smiled.
Overwhelmed with emotion, she walked over to him. “I’m glad you brought me here. It’s a lovely home and I want the whole nickel tour.” Then she put h
er arms around his neck, tugging him down to her level. When he expected her kiss, Jane surprised him instead by whispering quietly near his mouth, “A tour that ends in your bedroom, Mac. Do you think the horses will mind waiting?”
Mac pulled her closer, her body meshing fully against his hard, tight length. He took her lips in a long, sweeping kiss that left her completely breathless. “We’ll give them extra carrots.”
This time Mac did undress her, and he took his own sweet time. He peeled one article off after another, with calculated moves that swamped her body with slow, simmering heat. He touched her, caressed her and kissed her with such unhurried deliberation that she wanted to scream out.
“Be patient with me,” he said, standing by his massive cedar-and-oak four-poster bed. “I want to know all of you.”
Jane stood before him, watching afternoon light cast him in sun and shadows, defining his strong jawline and dark intense eyes. And when she was fully unclothed, she reached for him, to begin unbuttoning his shirt.
“No, not yet,” he said, taking her shoulders and spinning her around. He brought her up against him, her derriere to his groin, her back to his chest. With a hand, he pushed her hair to one side and nibbled on her neck, planting light kisses there while the other hand held her hip, keeping her body firmly in place.
“Relax, Jane,” he whispered in a husky tone.
Heart racing, Jane knew that was impossible to do. Her soft skin pressed against his rough jeans and she felt the heat of his hard, tight shaft. She took a deep breath and his heady musky scent enveloped her. “Mac,” she muttered, but no other words formed. None were necessary.
His hands came up to stroke her breasts, the twin round globes aching for his touch. He stroked her gently, almost reverently, and whispered on a breath, “You’re perfect, sweetheart.”
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