The Perfect Fit

by Cait London

  He glanced at the small herd of Appaloosa horses, newly purchased and grazing in the field. The mottled stallion was already nipping at a mare, showing off for the other females. At least one male had female interest, Nick thought darkly, slapping his Western hat on his head and bracing his boots apart. Two weeks without Silver’s scent had made him growl, and he’d noted people avoided him, which was just fine with him. Two major contractors for Palladin, Inc. had complained to Mamie, who seemed quite happy with Nick’s surly mood.

  Silver would come back one day, to claim her chest, her laboratory equipment and her four-poster bed. But she’d return his ring and leave his dreams behind—He’d found a woman, bred in romantic legends, who needed moonbeams and magic, and he’d given her raw sensual need and his hunger. He’d tried to lash her to him, thinking he could buy time to court her. Negotiating contracts and business problems did not work when the scent of a woman stirred him, made him reach out to take greedily. He never thought he’d be a greedy man, a selfish one, but when Silver—He studied his open hands, the scars across them, big enough to hurt and bruise, and saw them open, claiming her pale, shimmering breasts, saw again the smoldering fire in her darkened eyes as he took the tempting mauve tips into his mouth. At night, he ached, remembering her curled next to him, trusting him.

  The floppy-eared puppy, as yet unnamed, began yipping. To keep him safe from the rooster and prevent him from wandering off, Nick had made a protective bamer on the porch. Nick had just reached for him, feeling the need for a cuddle, when a small fast red plane ripped across the clear blue Wyommg sky. As Nick straightened, it circled and slowed, and a banner unfurled behind it—Nick Kisses Good.

  “Joel and Rafe haven’t changed It looks like they’ve forgotten a few things from the last time we tangled—” Nick inhaled sharply, his heart racing as the puppy began to bark excitedly. In the next moment, Nick’s heart stopped as the small plane circled again and began lowering for a landing—right on the road leading into his ranch. “Holy—”

  Landing neatly, cruising slowly up to his ranch yard, the engines cut. Nick ran for the plane, grabbed for the door, jerked it open and opened his mouth to serve the pilot hell.

  Silver, dressed in a silver flight suit, leaped out into his arms, knocking him to the ground. Before he could catch his breath, she was lying over him, holding his face and kissing him hungrily there in the dust and the sunlight. Straddling him, she sat up suddenly and tugged down the zipper on her jumpsuit, revealing the lack of underclothing. Her nipples pushed tautly against the metallic material.

  Nick’s hands locked on her hips, his body ready. Because his logic was somewhere else and a grin seemed wrapped around him, he said, “You’ve mashed my herbs.”

  Uncertain of his next move with the unpredictable woman hovering above him, he smoothed her hair, the sleek, thick strands seducing him. “What do you mean, flying in here like a red bullet? Don’t you know you could get hurt?”

  “You’ll have to check the merchandise to find out, won’t you?” She grinned at him and scampered to her feet, running toward the house. Nick, recovering quickly, his mouth drying at the sight of her quivering hips, leaped to his feet. He ran to catch her, swinging her up into his arms. For a moment, they stood there in the sunlight, staring at each other, and the world spun around them, unnoticed.

  The puppy began barking again, and Silver glanced down at him. “I saw you out there in the rain, Nick. Standing like a guardian, asking for nothing from me. I saw you pick up the cats and the puppy and walk away with them into the night.”

  She placed her hand along his cheek. “I know how hard that was for you, a man used to protecting others. To moving into their lives and helping. It cost you to walk away. But I wasn’t done with what I had to do, and I couldn’t come to you then. I wanted to. You looked so lonely. If I had, I could have never let you go. You can’t fix my life for me, Nick. Not this.”

  For just a moment, there in the sunlight with the scent of herbs and tenderness hovering between them. Silver smoothed his cheek. Then, slowly, she placed her arms around his neck and settled her head on his shoulder.

  “Nick. I’m home. Aye...I’ve come home to you,” she whispered in a soft, longing sound that cruised straight into his heart as he carried her to his bed.

  He arranged her carefully upon his bed, and came to lie beside her, treasuring the soft look in her eyes, the curve of her lips. Fearing he’d heard wrong, splashing his dreams and wants and needs into reality, Nick ran a finger across the cropped, feathery, blue-black hair on the pillowcase. For a man who had pitted his will against others, who kept others safe, he was now uncertain—“You came back for the chest.”

  “Aye,” she whispered solemnly, tracing his brow with her fingertip and drifting the trail to his lips. “I did, because there are answers in it. But most of all, I came for you.”

  Eleven

  The first time they loved, it was with hurried hunger, bodies damp, pitted against each other, Silver’s nails digging into Nick’s shoulders, her cry flying through the night as he spilled into her, giving himself to her, coming to rest, braced upon her. She held him close, a part of her, safe in a world of their own where the past couldn’t tear them apart.

  His comforting kisses and caresses began another loving, Nick still buried within her. This time they loved gently, softly, sweeter—filling themselves with each other.

  Silver awoke in the night to see Nick braced on his side, facing her, his fingers tracing her mouth. In the shadows, his hair was rumpled, still damp from his shower, his face angular, jutting, fierce—his lashes shadowing his cheekbones, a cord, defined on his throat, pulsing. Silver placed her fingers on it, feeling the life inside Nick, the heat, the desire for only her. “I was afraid,” he whispered unevenly, “that you wouldn’t come back. Not like this...here with me.”

  “You’re in my life, Nick, a part of me.” She traced his lips, long and sensuous and fascinating. She’d also hidden what haunted her, and she knew what the admission cost him, a man, raised street-tough and tormented by older brothers and a brutal father. While Rafe and Joel protected Nick as best they could, they also sought to help him, by teaching him to shelter his emotions from a father who fed on diminishing others.

  He breathed unevenly, the effort lifting his chest, his broad shoulders gleaming in the moonlight passing through the open window. Slowly, so slowly, he eased away the sheet covering her. He studied her face, her shoulders, her breasts, and placed his open hand on her flat stomach, then lower, cupping her for a moment. He eased back slightly, sweeping his hand to her hip and the back of her knee, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin there. His gaze met hers as he circled her ankle with his fingers, then swept to caress her sole.

  “I didn’t think I’d be in a life, not with this intensity, this amount of—depth.”

  Silver traced the lines between his brows. “We’ll fight, you know. I can’t have you shoving me around without pushing back and wanting to do my part in keeping you safe.”

  Nick’s teeth gleamed in the shadows as he smiled slowly, sexily. “I like how you push back.”

  “I don’t know,” she teased, biting his shoulder. “You’re big and bulky and tough, but not that agile—”

  His answer was dry, a reminder of their day on Tallchief Mountain. “I’ll try to keep up.”

  She bent to quickly suckle his flat nipple, and Nick’s tall, powerful body jerked as though slammed by a heavy, hot punch. He groaned, unevenly, desperately. “You’re getting really good at that.”

  “You’re so easy.” She smoothed back the wave crossing his forehead, this man who was both lover and friend, who knew who she was on a level that no one else dared to enter. A man who would shelter orphaned puppies and cats, and guard those he loved, careless of himself. A gentle man, one with heart and soul—an enticing male puzzle, a man to cherish and battle and love for a lifetime. “I understand what you mean about being in a life, not circling it...I’ve been so driven th
at I didn’t think this could happen for me...not this intimacy with a man, feeling a part of him. You thought you’d always live on the borders of your brothers’ lives? And have nothing for yourself? Then suddenly before you can breathe, before your heart can pound one more time—”

  His lips curved against her instep. “Something like that. I’ve found I’m greedy...for you.”

  “Ah, what are you doing?” she whispered unevenly as his mouth smoothed her ankle.

  “It’s soft and intimate here, like silky ylang-ylang.” The heat of his breath brushed the backs of her knees, sending a wave of heat rippling over her. Their loving had been conventional, predictable, beautiful—He took her arm, placed his lips upon the creases of her inner elbow, smoothed her skin with his open mouth, his tongue flicking gently. He nuzzled her skin with his nose. “A little exciting here, like citrus tempered by rose...frangipani, too.”

  Nick, set on a course to devastate her, had started her heart slamming against her chest. When he gently nipped her restraining hands and wrapped them around the bedposts. Silver gripped the posts, strained to keep her body still and whispered, “You’ve been doing your homework.”

  “Hush. Hold still and stop squirming. That only stirs the scents, and a man has his limits.” His smile curved along her waist. “Myrrh, here...Moroccan...harvested at the peak time.”

  Silver managed to suck in necessary air as Nick kissed her inner thigh. “Sandalwood, a necessary essential oil on satin.”

  He placed his hand on her stomach, smoothing her legs, which had begun to quiver, heat pouring through her. “There’s bergamot... ambergris...rose with just a bite of rosemary,” he said, moving lower.

  The intimacy of his mouth caused her to cry out—“Nick?”

  “I’m studying your pulse points, sweetheart. You’re on fire and—” He inhaled abruptly and touched her intimately, “very hot and tight and the scents are incredible—”

  “Oh, my,” she whispered shakily, stunned at the intimacy of his mouth and his uneven words, breathed against her skin.

  “Patchouli...damp...very sweet. Your heart is racing, as though it’s trying to be free—”

  “Nick, you’re shaking...”

  “So are you, and your heart is racing like a hummingbird’s.”

  She shuddered, caught by the passion driving her. “I don’t feel that delicate now, darling. In another minute—”

  “You’re interrupting my scenting experience. Hush.” Sinking his fingers into her hips, Nick shifted her slightly, tracing her hipbones with his lips. “Mmm. Cinnamon and ylang-ylang here.”

  “You’re driving me crazy....”

  “You wouldn’t want to ruin all my sleepless nights doing homework, would you? Let’s see if I can pass the test—”

  “Oh, you’re passing it, all right....”

  His mouth moved on her navel, his tongue swirling, flicking lightly. “Vanilla and rose, just a touch of clary sage.”

  He nuzzled her with his nose, before moving onto her waist. She cried out as his face burned her skin, his mouth opened finding her throat as he settled over her. One quick, dark flick of his gaze swept down to where his chest met her breasts, the pale softness melding gently upon his rough texture, the hard planes. His hands gripped her hips, fingers pressing possessively into the lush softness. He rested there on her, shuddering slightly, his face damp against her throat, until he moved to the area behind her ear, nuzzling her. “This is the best—rose...a bite of ginger, secret, intimate, feminine and yet edgy, and very feminine.... Ah, there’s that lavender and sandalwood.”

  His breath, uneven as her own, swept across her hot cheeks, an effort to breathe as the pleasure rose. Nick began to undulate above her, nuzzling, never letting her capture his mouth, that wonderful, fiery, busy mouth. A dip of his head and he found her breast, took it into his mouth and bit gently. When she moved to draw him closer, he held her wrists at her sides.

  “Nick!” The beat pounding at her, Silver smoothed the taut muscles of his back, explored the hard ridges and cords, and, suddenly, Nick’s hand took her spinning, the touch perfect, exquisite. Then he was moving down her body again, his beautiful mouth causing her to cry out desperately.

  Nick turned her and held her to the bed scented of their lovemaking as he began kissing her calves, her thighs, the base of her spine and up to her shoulders.

  Silver gripped the pillow with her fists as Nick came to lie on top of her back, his warm cheek against hers. His fingers shackled her wrists, lightly, caressing.... “You’re so warm, throbbing. so alive. Is it true?” he asked fiercely, demanding now, his heart racing against her back, his body powerful and sensual above hers. His lips slid to hers, the flick of his tongue asked and she gave, turning slowly beneath him, facing him now.

  Nick’s arousal pressed against her and yet his kisses wouldn‘t—she couldn’t—“It’s true... we’re a part of each other...that’s what you want, isn’t it? This...claiming.”

  Nick’s hands slid under her waist, cupping her bottom, tugging her higher. “You are mine.”

  That flicker of vulnerability, that she would leave him, tore into Silver. She reached for his jaw, drew him down for him and kissed him thoroughly. “And you are mine.”

  They stared at each other, hearts racing, and each knew that gentle loving would come later, but for now—Silver dug her fingers into Nick’s strong shoulders, anchored herself to him and caught his legs with hers. He filled her, stretched her, and gloving him, she gave herself to his scents, to his loving, to the heat and where she began and he began, and the hunger of his mouth.

  There deep inside her, where pulses met and pushed and poured, she took him as surely as he took her, flying higher until stars burst and savage pounding pressed on, slowing, easing, and yet went on—

  Nick’s cry echoed with her own, pushing her beyond the burst of pleasure, quivering, easing and finally, shuddering and damp, Nick eased himself down on her.

  Silver settled herself comfortably beneath the drape of the man she had mated with, had always known she would take into her heart and into her body. She smoothed his damp back, kissed the heavy pulse in his temple, kept him warm and safe against her.

  He moved heavily as though to escape her and she held him tight. “Silver, I’m too heavy.”

  “Stay. Don’t leave me.”

  This was Nick’s claiming, she thought drowsily, and one he would pay for when she could manage the strength. “You’ve got wonderful pulse points. Just wait until I’m back in fighting position—” she whispered, holding him close.

  His hand skimmed down her shoulder, found the curve of her waist and caressed her hip. “Your position is perfect.”

  “You’re so predictable. We’ll have to change that. Nick, you’re sniffing—”

  “It’s the scent of a woman, my woman, here, now, in my heart and in my arms.”

  Mist layered the dark predawn morning and dew lay on the bed of lavender as Nick prepared to embarrass himself. The woman sleeping in his bed, exhausted after lovemaking, shouldn’t lack for anything, and Nick hadn’t courted her. He intended to correct that deficiency. Though they’d met m late May, the span of May to August had changed his life, and there had been no time for wine and roses.

  Nick bent to pluck a lavender stalk and tuck the multiple purple blooms over his ear. With his instincts telling him to push for marriage, he would give her what he could. Once, caught in their lovemaking and drenched in champagne, Silver had said she loved him. She had also wanted to hear him play the bagpipes, and now he’d give her that.

  Those long, sleepless nights away from Silver, Nick had played the wood-and-cloth musical instrument. The sound of a lonely wolf howling at the big silver disk of a moon suited his mood. At night in the meadow, the sheep and the Appaloosas barely noticed when he’d played to them. The puppy had howled at his feet, and distant farm dogs had picked up the whine, yowling as if their ears hurt. He tucked the bagpipe’s windbag beneath his arm, placed the blo
wpipe into his mouth and his fingers over the chanter’s holes. He would move quickly, thoroughly, and give Silver romance. Or laughter. Cowboy ballads didn’t exactly suit the bagpipe, but Nick’s musical background was limited.

  He cast show-time fear into the soft dewy scents of the darkness and began to play.

  “I think Palladin, Inc. is pleased with the signature scent. Or at least Mamie is delighted. It’s my best work, and with the launch in March, there’s a lot of work ahead of us.” That afternoon, Silver had sorted through the handwoven basket of herb starts she had collected from Elspeth’s garden, treasuring them. An expert herbalist. Elspeth had learned from her mother, and from Una’s journals. At the Petrovnas’, amid the clutter of weaving shuttles, loops of dyed wool and a spinning wheel, the basket of herbs was perfect.

  In the basket, Elspeth had placed a bouquet of fresh roses, of every color, and had wrapped the cut stems in a damp cloth, secured by a ribbon. The fiesta of petals and mixture of scents were perfect for the day, after she’d been awakened by Nick’s bagpipes. Silver bent to nuzzle the fragrant, silky petals and smiled, hoarding the way he’d looked out in the herb garden by her window—a long-legged, jean-clad Westerner, his chest bare, except for the bagpipe, mist curling around him. There were the lovely strips of red, those enticing suspenders she couldn’t resist—

  She’d smiled then, too, pleasantly lazy, hoarding his desperately sweet lovemaking inside her as she listened. The howling puppy had only endeared Nick more, his voice gentle as he hushed the puppy. The Tallchiefs had called, grumpy and drowsy, with wives purring sleepily in the background—the dogs howling keeping them awake.