IN OVER HIS HEAD

by Jacquie D'Alessandro

  "Looks like Blondie was shut down," Darla said in an unmistakably satisfied undertone. "Talk about not being like Tony. There's only one kind of man who says no to a woman who has 'I'm ready and willing to have wild, sweaty sex with you' tattooed across her 38-D implants."

  "Yeah. A gay, dead guy."

  "And your cowboy is neither of those." Darla looked her straight in the eye. "The only kind of man who can resist that sort of invite is one who is head over heels in love. Now the question is, what are you going to do about it?"

  Lexie looked across the length of the pool at Josh, laughing and smiling with the boys, and her heart melted like a marshmallow over a campfire. But how could she ignore their differences? And her deep-seated fears of making the same mistake again? "I don't know, Darla. I just don't know."

  "Well, if you need to talk, call me," Darla said, squeezing her hand in commiseration. "I have to go. But I want an intro to dream man first."

  Lexie led Darla around the pool. As they approached Josh and his charges, he looked up. His eyes met Lexie's and a slow smile, filled with unmistakable pleased surprise and undeniable heat, lifted his lips. From behind her Darla whispered, "Good Lord. The way he's looking at you is making me sweat. How can you stand it?"

  "Believe me, it's almost more than I can take," Lexie whispered back.

  Josh rose to his feet and, after handing the rope back to the boys and ruffling their hair, he walked toward her. "This is a nice surprise," he said. Leaning down, he brushed a quick kiss across her lips, stopping her breath.

  She performed a quick introduction. "Darla and I just finished lunch."

  "Pleased to meet you, Darla," he said, shaking her hand and giving her a friendly smile.

  "Same here," Darla said. She indicated the trio of boys with a nod. "Pretty fancy rope work there."

  "Kids always get a big kick out of it. Of course, it looks a little more authentic when I'm wearin' my cowboy gear." He looked down at himself and laughed. "Whoever heard of a cowboy in a bathin' suit?"

  "Not clothes you'd normally associate with a rodeo champ," Darla agreed with a grin. "But we are in Florida, you know." She glanced at her watch. "Much as I'd love to stay and pick up some lassoing techniques, I need to get back to work. Nice meeting you, Josh. And Lexie, don't forget to ask him about the cousin." With a queenlike wave, she departed toward the lobby, weaving her way among the lounge chairs.

  Josh tickled his fingers down Lexie's arm, then held her hand. "Cousin?"

  "When I told her you didn't have a brother, she wondered if you might have any unattached male cousins."

  "As a matter of fact I do."

  Lexie slapped her hand to her chest. "Be still, my heart. You mean there's more at home like you?"

  A teasing grin lit his face. "Nah, I'm one of a kind." His gaze skimmed down her shorts and T-shirt. "Are you headin' back to work?"

  "Yes. I have a scuba excursion leaving the dock at two." She wriggled her back and winced at the ache in her muscles. "Note to self—horseback riding, sailing and engaging in unrestrained sex all in the same day is not a good idea."

  He lifted her hand and pressed a warm kiss against her fingers. "Oh, I don't know. Sounds like a great day to me. Still, if I had to choose only one of those activities, it would have to be—"

  "Horseback riding."

  He made a sound like a game show buzzer. "Wrong answer," he said in a soft voice that sent a pleasurable tingle down her spine. "And sailing is the wrong answer, too."

  "Oh yeah? What kind of cowboy are you?"

  "Invite me over tonight and I'll show you." He leaned down and flicked his tongue over her earlobe. "I'll even bring dinner and cook for you."

  Bring dinner? A feat that would require a trip to the supermarket? And cook? And sex? Yikes. If she didn't get away from him right now, she'd never make her scuba lesson.

  Stepping away from him and the potent spell he seemed to cast upon her whenever he was within a ten-foot radius, she forced a deep breath and a smile.

  "All right, cowboy, you've got yourself an invite. How does seven o'clock sound?"

  "Like a long time from now."

  Damn it, it sure did.

  * * *

  At exactly seven o'clock—which had indeed seemed like a long time—Josh deposited a half dozen white plastic grocery bags on Lexie's kitchen counter. Raising his chin, he sniffed the air.

  "What's that odor?" he asked. "It smells like something burned."

  Color rushed into her cheeks, making his fingers itch to touch her skin. "Nothing. I, um, set the oven on self-clean. It makes a funny smell."

  She turned from him and tried to look in the bags, but he grabbed her around the waist, pulling her close.

  "No peeking," he said.

  She made a pouty face, and he laughed. "You remind me of a kid on Christmas morning."

  "And you're being a Grinch. Can't I have just one tiny peek?"

  He pretended to ponder her question as he backed her up until her backside bumped against the counter. "Maybe one tiny peek—but it's going to cost you."

  "Name your price."

  He rubbed himself slowly against her.

  A wicked gleam flared in her eyes. "You drive a hard bargain, cowboy."

  "That I do, ma'am. Wanna see how hard?"

  "Like you wouldn't believe."

  With a groan, he gave her the kiss he'd been thinking about all afternoon. She parted her lips in welcome, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue claiming the minty heat of her mouth. His hands slipped under her bright pink tank top, skimming up her smooth back. A groan rumbled in his throat. She wasn't wearing a bra.

  Breaking away from her lips, he kissed his way across her jaw and down her neck while his hands came forward to cup her breasts. Her nipples tightened, pressing into his palms, and a long, low sigh of pleasure escaped her.

  Every thought fled from his head. Damn, it was as if a fog of hot need swallowed him every time he touched her. Hell, every time he got near her. Aching, his erection straining against his jeans, he grasped her hips and lifted her onto the counter. Her eyes flared with arousal, and with her lips wet from their kiss, erect nipples pressing against her shirt, she leaned back on her hands and spread her legs.

  He pulled down her tank top, exposing her breasts and trapping her arms against her sides. Leaning down, he took her taut nipple into his mouth, while he ran his hand up her leg and under her short, full skirt. Her panties were already damp, inciting him further as the musky scent of her feminine arousal assailed him.

  Pushing aside the wisp of material, he slipped two fingers into her wet heat. A cry of pleasure ripped from her throat and she opened her legs wider, moving sinuously against his hand. She came almost instantly, and he raised his head to watch her orgasm consume her as she pulsed around his fingers.

  The instant he felt her relax, however, she blew away any thought he might have entertained about her going limp in his arms. Instead she sat up and reached for the button on his jeans. "More," she demanded in a rough, smoky voice, her eyes hot. "Now. Now."

  He'd learned his lesson well, and pulled a condom out of his back pocket. Seconds later he thrust into her, hard and fast, wild and hungry, as if they were starved for each other. Gripping her hips, he stroked her deeply, watching himself thrust into her, then withdraw, thrust, then withdraw.

  "Josh," she moaned, her body tightening around him. The feel of her, the sound and sight of her, pushed him over the edge, and his release rushed through him.

  "Lexie." Her name whispered past his lips like a prayer, and he clasped her tightly against him. When he could breathe again, he leaned back and brushed a damp curl from her forehead.

  "If that was the appetizer," she said in a still slightly breathless voice, "then I can't wait to see what you're cooking up for the main course."

  "I don't know. At this rate, we may not eat until mid-night. You're a big distraction to the chef."

  She didn't look the least bit contrite. Moving against hi
m she asked, "You complaining, cowboy?"

  "Hell, no."

  "Well, that's good. 'Cause I'm not finished with you." She looped her arms around his neck and planted a noisy kiss on his cheek.

  "Oh, yeah? What did you have in mind?"

  "A little game."

  "Well, if it's anything like the last game, you can definitely count me in. What's this game called?"

  She grinned. "Doctor."

  He smiled back. "I already know how to play that one."

  "Excellent. Then you know the drill. Take off your clothes."

  "Stick out your tongue."

  She pursed her lips. "Hey! That's my line."

  Lifting her off the counter, he headed down the hall toward the bedroom. "How about if we both take off our clothes, and both stick out our tongues, and see what happens?" he suggested.

  Holding on tight, she nibbled on his earlobe. "I think we both know what will happen. Since I never got my peek, is there anything in those grocery bags that needs to go in the fridge?"

  "Nope. I bought a bag of ice that's in with the perishables. And that should prove just what sort of cowboy I am."

  "The smart kind?"

  "That, and the Boy Scout kind. Always prepared." Walking into the bedroom, he deposited her on the bed, then set about removing his clothes. "You'll note I had a condom in my pocket."

  "That was a very smart—and much appreciated—move."

  "Yeah? Well, Miss Lexie, then hang on, because my clothes are off and I think you're going to appreciate my next move even more."

  * * *

  Wearing nothing except Josh's denim shirt, Lexie patted her mouth with her napkin.

  "That steak was delicious. The potato, green beans, and salad, too. You're a great cook."

  "Glad you liked it. Wait till you see what I have planned for dessert."

  Lexie groaned. "I couldn't eat another thing."

  "Don't worry. It's not that kind of dessert."

  "Oh." Their eyes met across the width of her kitchen table and she couldn't help but smile at him. Garbed in only his boxer briefs, he was a very distracting dinner companion. Distracting and entertaining. Watching him prepare dinner, she'd learned that there isn't much that is sexier than a nearly naked man slaving over a hot stove.

  "Why don't you go relax in the hot tub while I clean up?" she suggested. "I'll meet you out there."

  "Why don't I help you clean up, then we can go relax in the hot tub together."

  "But you cooked. You shouldn't have to clean up, too."

  "I'd rather be in the kitchen with you than out in the hot tub alone."

  Good Lord, this man was going to kill her. Reaching out, she captured his hand. Bringing it to her mouth, she gently nibbled on his index finger, then sucked it into her mouth. His eyes seemed to glaze over and he shifted in his chair.

  "You keep doin' that, darlin', and these dishes will stay right here."

  "Hmm," she hummed against his fingers. "And that would be really bad, right?"

  He chuckled. "I think I sense a bit of the procrastinator in you."

  "Only when it comes to housework," she stressed, peppering his fingers with kisses and flicks of her tongue. "Especially laundry. I do it, but I hate it." She eyed him with speculation. "I don't suppose you like to do laundry?" Nah. He couldn't be that perfect.

  "Can't say that I like it, but it's one of those things that's got to get done—so you just do it."

  "Ah, but I have this very interesting theory about laundry," she said. "Would you like to hear it?"

  "Love to—but I'd love it more if you'd sit on my lap while you told me."

  Releasing his hand, she rose, then resettled herself by straddling his lap, facing him. "You see," she explained, slowly trailing her fingers down his bare chest, "if everyone would just get naked, there'd be no need for clothes, and thus, no need for anyone to do laundry ever again. Think of the ramifications. Think of all the time we'd save never having to shop for clothes. All the money we'd save not having to buy clothes. All the money we'd save on food. With everyone running around naked, you'd want to be in the best shape possible, so everyone would eat less, thereby saving on groceries." She tickled her fingers over his ridged abdomen and he sucked in a breath. "Of course, the whole idea would only work if everyone did it."

  "You sold me. Let's test it out right now."

  She raised her gaze from the fascinating ribbon of hair bisecting the skin below his equally fascinating navel. "Huh?"

  "Let's get naked." He unsnapped her shirt with one firm tug, then immediately leaned forward to take her nipple into his warm mouth.

  Heat shot through Lexie and she arched her back. "I thought you wanted to clean up."

  "Later. Right now I want you." He cupped his hands on her buttocks, pulling her tighter against his erection. "Any complaints?"

  "Absolutely not."

  "Unfortunately the condoms are in the bedroom."

  "Except for this one." Smiling, she pulled a plastic package from the pocket of his denim shirt, then dangled it between her fingers. "Slipped it in there before dinner. Boy Scouts aren't the only ones who know how to be prepared."

  His clever fingers stroked between her splayed thighs and her eyes slid closed. "Let me light the fire," he whispered against her ear.

  "I … mmm … don't have a fireplace."

  "Darlin', it's not that kind of fire."

  * * *

  By the time they got around to the dishes, the remains of dinner had hardened on the plates. Lexie cleared the table, while Josh loaded the dishwasher.

  "What's this?" he asked, pulling an aluminum foil-wrapped plate out from behind the coffeemaker.

  "Nothing!" Lexie made a grab for the foil, but he was too quick. Before she could stop him, he'd unwrapped the plate and was staring at the contents.

  Embarrassment scorched her cheeks. He said nothing for several interminable seconds, then he finally raised his gaze to hers and regarded her with an impossible-to-read expression.

  "You made these?" he asked. "For me?"

  "Well, I tried to. You'd mentioned that chocolate-chip cookies were your favorite. I gave it my best shot, but clearly I should have just stopped at the bakery." She shook her head. "I told you I was a lousy cook."

  "So that's what I smelled earlier."

  "I'm afraid so. I was going to trash them, but you arrived, and then I forgot."

  His brows shot upward. "Throw them away? Why?"

  "In case you haven't noticed, I burned them." Her gaze wandered to the flat, charred disks on the plate and she winced. "Incinerated is actually closer to the truth."

  He picked up one of the scorched cookies, brought it to his lips, then took a big bite. He chewed slowly, his gaze never leaving hers.

  Her stomach tightened in sympathy and she prayed his act of chivalry wouldn't cause him any gastrointestinal distress.

  He swallowed, God bless him, but then to her amazement, he took another bite. Clearly the first bite had killed off all the poor man's tastebuds.

  She reached for the plate, but he held it protectively against his chest. "Josh, please, you don't have to eat them. They're awful."

  "No, they're not."

  "They're not?"

  "Nope." His lips curved into a smile so filled with warmth and delight, her breath caught. "They're just like Mom used to make."

  * * *

  The next morning, after their early morning sailing lesson, followed by a swimming lesson during which Lexie merely swam laps alongside him, Josh let himself into his hotel room.

  Dropping his key onto the still perfectly made bed, he walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. After washing off the chlorine, he closed his eyes, braced his hands against the tiles, and let the warm water rush over him as images of Lexie danced behind his eyelids.

  Lexie smiling at him over a glass of wine. Her pleasure over the dinner he'd made her. Laughing as he'd fashioned a mini lasso from a piece of yarn and played with Scout. Sighing with
pleasure as he'd massaged away her lingering aches from their horseback riding lesson. Crying out his name in release. Her soft skin under his hands as she fell asleep in his arms.

  Two more weeks. He was scheduled to leave here in two more weeks. The mere thought of it cinched his stomach into knots. How the hell could he? He couldn't. Yet neither could he stay. He had responsibilities back home. A ranch to run. People who depended on him. And he had a quest to finish. Damn it, he was going to sail a boat in the Mediterranean. He had to. If he didn't, it would eat at him till his dying day.

  She was the thing that was messing up all his nice, neat plans. Falling in love with her was wreaking havoc with his life, blowing him to bits in the emotional minefield he'd laid himself.

  Every minute he spent with her, every time he touched her, spoke to her, shared a memory with her, made love to her, another bomb detonated. And to top it all off, she'd baked—okay, burned—him chocolate-chip cookies. Because he'd mentioned they were his favorite. That sweet, simple gesture had cut him off at the knees. Indeed all her actions and gestures showed that she cared about him, and she'd agreed that they were "dating," but she hadn't given him any other verbal indication that he meant anything more to her than a fling. And he was running out of time. And patience.

  He knew what he wanted. He wanted Lexie. He wanted her to fall in love with him. He wanted them to figure out a compromise to remain together after his time at the Whispering Palms ended.

  He just wasn't sure about the best way to go about getting those things to happen.

  Shutting off the water, he grabbed a towel. Wrapping the white terry cloth around his waist, he wiped off a section of the steamy mirror with his hand then stared at his reflection. "Why the hell couldn't you have fallen in love at some other, more convenient time? And maybe with a gal who lived a little closer to home? One who wanted to travel? And one who didn't look spooked every time you mentioned the word 'rodeo'?"