Under The Desert Moon (Desert Sky Series Book 2)

by Mary Tate Engels

  "Innocent? I don't buy that." He kissed her hard, then looked at her with heavy-lidded eyes. "You're incredible. It was all I could do to resist ravaging your body this morning while you were asleep."

  "You wouldn't! Oh! You devil!" She tried to struggle out of his grasp, but he held her securely and kissed her again.

  "I thought you were going to deliver my coffee to bed," she murmured in a sexy whisper.

  "Would you like that?" He released her hands and trailed one finger down her nose, chin and neck. The trail then strayed to one breast and slowly circled the tip.

  "Hmm," she moaned. "Nice. Yes, I would love to have coffee in bed."

  He kissed her nose. "Can't resist such a polite lady. Can't deny the begging in those love-dark eyes of yours. And I can't possibly lie here next to that luscious body of yours without wanting it. So I may as well get the coffee."

  As he scooted away from her, the sheet dropped below his waist, revealing the ugly scar. Annie reached out to gently caress it. "Does it hurt?"

  "No."

  "You have such a strong, tough body. A nice body..."

  "Now that little-known fact has been discovered by more than one female around this house." He stepped into his jeans and pulled them over his lean hips. "Why didn't you tell me someone else lived here?"

  "What do you mean? No one else lives here. Only Diego out back."

  He gazed at her steadily. "Annie, an older woman, looked to be Mexican, came into the kitchen this morning as I was fixing coffee. Now, you're telling me you don't know who she is?"

  Annie gasped and lay back with her hand over her eyes. "Oh, no!"

  "Oh, yes. Then you know her?"

  She nodded mutely, feeling absolutely trapped. But it was funny, just imagining the scene.

  Brett chuckled, his dark eyes dancing. "I don't know who was more surprised, me or that woman."

  Annie figured Isabel had probably been shocked. She sat up in bed, pulling the sheet to her breasts. "What did you do?"

  "I said buenas dias, good morning."

  "Were you..." She motioned to his body.

  "Completely." He grinned. "I'd say she got a full view of my bare buns, but disappeared before—"

  "Brett!"

  "It livened up the morning. I just wish you'd warned me." He paused by the door. "Or her. I think she was pretty astonished. She disappeared without even returning my greeting."

  Annie slumped down in bed with a groan. She had forgotten about giving Isabel and Carmen permission to fix breakfast, since they both needed a more nutritious diet. But, at the time, she hadn't anticipated that Brett would be here.

  When he returned with two cups of coffee, she apologized. Much to her relief, Brett was unconcerned about the reasons a strange woman was in her house. He sat beside her on the bed, stretching his jean clad legs on top of the covers. "I won't ask. And you don't need to tell. But I would like to be invited back."

  "You have a standing invitation. Or laying. Any time."

  "Is that an offer for a repeat performance?"

  "Maybe..." She sipped her hot coffee. "Ahhh, this is great."

  "I want you to know, Annie that you're the best thing that's happened to me in a long, long time."

  "I'm flattered, Brett. I'm not exciting, though. I lead an ordinary, quiet life and I like it that way."

  "That's part of what I like, I think. You're honest. And steady. And good."

  "Oh, come on now." She hooted and gestured above her head. "Do you see a halo? Or wings?"

  "Compared to most of the women I've known, you're like a little jewel."

  "Brett, you're embarrassing me. You don't even know me. Not really."

  "Last night told me everything I need to know."

  She smiled secretively. "Not the whole story."

  "I know enough," he said confidently. Setting their empty cups on the night table, he turned to her, framing her oval face with his large hands. His kisses praised her cheeks and chin and lips. "Did I ever tell you that you're beautiful?"

  She grinned and shook her head. "Not in the last five minutes."

  "Well, then, you're beautiful." The kiss that followed was long and moist and left no doubt about the way he felt right now.

  She touched his face with gentle stroking fingers. "You too, Brett."

  Before long she was helping him remove his jeans and enticing him to make love again. This time they went slowly in the morning light, sharing and giving and exploring instead of feverishly clamoring in the dark. Their eagerly-reached ecstasy was as glorious as the golden sunrise.

  After they had showered, Annie wrapped herself in a towel and sat on the bed, watching Brett dress.

  His bare body was lean and hard and darkly tanned. The one flaw on his entire gorgeous physique was the ugly scar beneath his ribs. Otherwise he was perfect. Perfect for her. More than perfect.

  "Nice abs," she cooed as he slid the jeans on and buttoned his shirt. His jeans were still creased, even though they had been tossed on a chair overnight. And his boots were shiny. He was the same immaculate man who had first arrived a few weeks ago. But he didn't resist getting dirty when the need arose.

  "Would you like to stay for breakfast? It's not my best meal, but I'm sure I could rustle up something."

  "No. I'd better go. We both have to work today." He zipped his jeans and gave her a meaningful glance. That doesn't mean I wouldn't like to stay. I just think we'd better take it easy."

  She nodded. "Right."

  He walked over to where she sat on the bed and bent to kiss her. "What we have is a good thing, Annie. Let's not spoil it."

  Annie felt a sudden sadness, knowing he was leaving.

  "I'll be back."

  "As I said, anytime."

  He kissed her again, quickly this time, and was gone.

  She sat unmoving on the bed, listening to his rapidly retreating footsteps in the hall. Why did she feel so empty? Because he was gone? Or because of a sense of guilt for deceiving him?

  What troubled her was that Brett had unreal expectations of her. He thought she was—he had used the word innocent. But she wasn't! Far from it.

  And yet, she had no intention of changing. She had made a commitment to Isabel and Carmen to see them through their immediate problems and on their way. And she could not break her word, even if it meant continuing to break the law.

  She knew she should tell Brett about the people taking refuge on her farm, before things went any further between them. Before he placed her on this unrealistic pedestal, she had to tell him the truth. And she definitely would tell him... soon.

  Annie glanced at the clock and hurriedly dressed. As Brett said, there was work to do today. She searched for her boots, finally finding them on the back porch—caked with mud. She tossed them onto an old rug and began scrubbing furiously.

  The guilt was driving her crazy. This was what happened to people who were so honest they squeaked, Annie thought as she drove to Brett's place on Saturday. She'd committed one little transgression and was plagued with guilt. Well, maybe not so little.

  Charged with the urge to confess, Annie clutched a grocery bag and knocked on his front door. Brett greeted her, dressed in cutoff jeans and an old gray sweatshirt with sleeves trimmed unevenly above the elbows. She was amazed that even in this ragged attire, he looked neat and devastatingly handsome.

  Smiling, he breathed her name and welcomed her with a kiss. "Annie, what a beautiful surprise."

  "Did I catch you at a bad time?"

  "Naw, just busy. But never too busy for you." He stepped back. "Come on and see what I'm doing."

  She gazed around the nearly empty living room. "Where's all the furniture?"

  "J.M. took it yesterday." He gestured at the kitchen stool in the middle of the room. "Have a seat while I finish this wall before my plaster dries. I'm patching the walls, getting ready to paint."

  Annie perched on the step stool and watched him work, an appreciative grin on her face. The sight of Brett stretchi
ng and bending and reaching was so pleasurable that she just sat there, enjoying the view for a few minutes. Finally she asked, "So, did J.M. decide to rescue the furniture when you told him you didn't want it?"

  "Would you believe he's been living in a furnished rental all this time?"

  "Why?"

  "I don't know. Didn't want to disturb the old homestead, I guess. Probably too many reminders around here."

  "He must have loved your mother very much," she observed in a quiet voice.

  "Yeah, and you want to know something funny? When I was a kid, I didn't believe he loved anyone. He was too gruff and demanding. What I didn't realize was that he was preoccupied with constant financial problems, always on the verge of bankruptcy and losing the ranch. With that kind of stress, he found it difficult to show his love."

  "But he sent you to that private military school. And on to college. How could he afford to do that?"

  "It didn't cost him anything. My maternal grandfather set up a trust fund for me when I was born." Brett propped one foot on the raised tile hearth around the beehive fireplace and leaned an elbow on his knee. "My mother's family was quite wealthy."

  "You were lucky. The best my mom could do was to send me here, to Aunt Annalee and Uncle Martin, for the summers. They paid for my education at the U of A."

  "Funny, isn't it?" Brett examined the ceiling, then stretched to patch the flaws he noticed. "Your folks sent you here. Mine sent me away. My dad didn't see the ranch as any kind of future for me."

  "Do you?"

  "Maybe." He nodded with satisfaction and made a final stroke above his head. "I understand now that part of the problem my dad had with this place was that he and my mother inherited it from her grandfather, who had received this property in a Spanish land grant."

  "So it had been in her family for many years?"

  "Right. And when they moved here as newlyweds, the expectation was that J.M. would continue to make the ranch profitable with horses and cattle. And he tried. He really did. Trouble was, he wasn't much of a rancher. He was never interested in breeding cattle, nor was he very good with horses. Didn't have the patience." Brett finished the fireplace and closed the plaster container. "But if Dad, or any of the area ranchers, had trouble with poachers or rustlers, he was the first one there to help solve the crime. I remember once when he left for two weeks to join a posse that trailed a bunch of rustlers into Colorado."

  "So, as sheriff, J.M.'s finally doing what he loves?"

  "Yep. I believe that a lawman is what he was meant to be all along. He's damn good at his job. Now that I'm working with him, I see how thorough and diligent he is. And, believe it or not, he's a caring man. He's just gruff on the outside."

  "Like father, like son."

  "Yep, in a lot of ways, I guess." Brett grinned sheepishly. "I do love to solve a crime or make a case on a criminal. But I also share some of my Hispanic ancestors' satisfaction in making a living by the sweat of my brow. Take this work, for instance." He motioned to the freshly plastered walls. "This has been a great project for me. I really enjoy working with my hands and seeing a finished product."

  "So do I," Annie agreed. "That's why I'm growing apples instead of counting other people's money. You know, you should have called me today. I told you I'd help. Anyway, I owe you a couple of days' labor, at least."

  "You owe me nothing, Annie. Just be yourself."

  "I'll bet J.M. is delighted that you're fixing up the old place."

  "He's pleased. It means I'm staying for a while."

  "Then I'm pleased, too.'"

  Brett's dark eyes danced, and he glanced at the bag she held. "What'cha got? Lunch?"

  She grinned slyly. "You could say that." Slowly she began to reveal the bag's contents.

  "Ah, vino, nectar of the gods," he said in a melodic voice.

  She continued to pull out each item and set it on the hearth beside him.

  "And bread, the staff of life. All right! Cheese, the ancient sustenance. You sure know the right foods for a perfect afternoon repast." He grabbed her and pulled her into his arms and twirled her around the empty room. "What a generous and lovely neighbor you are."

  "What a starving and receptive neighbor you are," she returned with a giggle.

  He took a seat on the hearth and tumbled her into his lap. "Manners dictate that I kiss you good 'n proper, to show my appreciation."

  "Manners? We don't need no manners." She was laughing as his lips captured hers. Her heart soared with the warmth of his reception. He could be so playful, and yet sometimes so serious.

  "Oh, yes, Annie..." he said as the kiss began to work its sensual magic on both of them. "There's only one place to do this right." He grabbed the bread, pushed the cheese into her hands and picked up the wine. "Come, come!"

  "What? Where?" She followed him, laughing and dancing behind him.

  "We'll have a picnic." He ushered her into his old bedroom. "A bed picnic!"

  "Honey," she resisted. "I don't want to disturb your work."

  "You disturbed more than my work when you walked in that door, my dear!" He dropped his items onto the bed. "Anyway, I'm finished with my work for the day. Don't want to overdo it. That'll leave nothing for tomorrow."

  She looked at the single twin bed with its brightly colored Mexican blanket. "But, Brett, this is a...kid's room."

  "Not anymore." He tossed the bread on the bed. Then he placed breathy kisses on her lips and along her cheek and beneath her earlobe. "This is now a place for a man and woman, for us. I'll get a knife for the cheese. And corkscrew for the vino."

  Annie gazed at the bed strewn with their picnic items. She could hear Brett scrambling in a kitchen drawer. And then she remembered her mission. She'd completely forgotten about her guilt-ridden confession!

  Sighing, she sat on the edge of the bed. Nothing was going the way she had planned. Her intention was to soften the mood for her thunderbolt, not create a sensuous scene. But Brett had other ideas. She couldn't really blame him. She shouldn't have brought wine and brie and crusty French bread. She should have brought soda and pretzels and a paintbrush.

  Brett returned in a minute, brandishing a wooden-handled paring knife and curly corkscrew. He paused to kiss her cheek. "Here we are." He sat cross-legged on the bed and tackled the wine.

  She sat opposite him, trying to figure out how to bring up the sensitive subject without spoiling the mood.

  Annie looked at him, feeling miserable inside. He was in such good spirits, how could she spoil their fun? She could tell him later. What was the rush, anyway? Oh, she was a first-class, royal chicken!

  He handed her a goblet of wine and they toasted. "To us," she said.

  "To all we can be," he added. "Together."

  They sipped the wine, not losing the gaze between them. Again, another sip. Then, she giggled. He laughed. And they were transported into a sensuous world of their own.

  She took a bite of bread with brie and fed him one.

  He accepted it and sucked her fingers.

  She poked another piece of chewy fresh bread into his mouth.

  He slipped a sliver of brie between her lips, letting his fingers linger and tease.

  She gave him a sip of her wine.

  Either he shifted or she slipped, but she dribbled cabernet down his chin. That simple little accident started it.

  He yelled and lunged for her. She squealed and jumped, spilling the cab on her tee shirt. Laughing, he playfully took her down on the bed. By the time the scuffle was over, Annie was on her back on the Mexican blanket. Brett was kissing her to distraction and, Annie was kissing him right back.

  Any guilt feelings she'd had slipped clear out of her mind when his tongue edged her lips. Nothing else mattered except opening for more pleasure. And when his hand pressed her breast in a gentle massage, she completely forgot her reason for coming over here other than this passion.

  She had learned, in the past few weeks, that when Brett labored, she could watch those muscles flex
all day long. When he laughed, she could drown in his deep, dark eyes. But when he kissed her, well, she was driven to abandon all reason.

  He squeezed one of his hands between them to unsnap her jeans. Her zipper slid open. Pinned beneath his strong body, she waited, knowing that he would feel for her. Slowly, ever so slowly, his hand inched down her belly, sliding inside her silk panties. Her flesh tingled with fire. Her blood turned to steam as he caressed sensitive areas. Annie didn't know how she could possibly want anyone as much as she did Brett at this moment.

  Brett raised his head and propped himself on one elbow to watch her vibrant reactions to his touch. In their titillating roughhousing, her pony tail had come undone and now her hair streamed like silk about her head on the Mexican blanket. Her eyes were closed, thick sorrel lashes feathering her pale cheeks. Her sensuous crimson lips parted slightly, allowing sharp little breaths to escape through her mouth. Unable to resist her another moment, Brett bent to mingle his breath with hers.

  Feverishly, they stripped. She watched him with glowing eyes. And he watched her with dark passion. He moved to her. "You're a special woman, Annie. My special woman..."

  "I like that," she murmured.

  He kissed one sensitive, swollen breast until the tip puckered tightly in his lips, then moved to the other. "You are the bright spot in my life, Annie." He kissed her lips, teasing the corners with his tongue. "You are beautiful and smart and sweetly innocent. You're everything I need in a woman. Everything I want."