by Rita Herron
“Are you all right, dear?” Mrs. McAllister asked.
Suzanne opened her mouth to reply, but her breath caught when Rafe suddenly appeared, glaring down at her. She’d watched him working with the horse when she’d first arrived. She’d been mesmerized by his quiet manner, by the strength in his slow movements and the agility with which he’d coached the animal into trusting him. His whispers to the animal had spurred a longing deep inside her.
What would it feel like if he whispered to her in that gruff voice? She’d probably eat out of his hand, as well.
RAFE DID NOT WANT TO KNOW why his mother had asked Suzanne if she was okay or why, for just a moment, he’d seen a look of longing in Suzanne’s eyes.
What would Suzanne Hartwell have to be sad about?
“Rafe, Suzanne helped me with my gardening while you were busy.”
“Really?” The woman kept surprising him. Somehow she didn’t seem the gardening type.
“I simply pulled a few weeds,” Suzanne said. “It was no big deal.”
Mrs. McAllister blushed. “It is to an old lady whose knees won’t allow her to bend down anymore.”
“You’re a regular do-gooder, aren’t you?” Rafe said, knowing he sounded surly. But his day had been crappy and the thought of spending time with Suzanne tonight, especially riding at sunset, was giving him a case of the wants.
He wanted to touch her and kiss her and forget his problems for a while. He wanted to make that sad look on her face disappear.
“You look worn-out, son. Let’s have a bite of dinner before you two go riding.”
“Suzanne probably has other plans.”
“Actually, I don’t.” She tucked a strand of that dark hair behind her ear, a turquoise earring glistening in the fading sun. “But if you don’t have time tonight…”
He took one look at his mother’s hopeful face and couldn’t refuse.
He told himself his reluctance to entertain Suzanne had nothing to do with the fact that seeing her had brightened his miserable day.
IN SPITE OF THE TENSION simmering between her and Rafe, and the fact that he had glowered at her from across the table, and that after his shower he smelled enticingly of soap and shampoo, Rafe’s mother made Suzanne feel so welcome, she totally relaxed. “This is delicious, Mrs. McAllister,” Suzanne said. She had never eaten chicken and dumplings and homemade cornbread and thought them tasty.
“Thanks, I let Maria have the afternoon off so I could have the kitchen to myself.”
“Mother, she’s supposed to be taking over the chores so you can rest.”
“Nonsense,” his mother said. “I felt fine today. A body will go plumb crazy lying around doing nothing all the time.” She glanced at Suzanne and winked, and Suzanne realized that Rafe’s mother was trying, very coyly, to set her up with her son.
Guilt swamped her.
Why hadn’t she recognized Mrs. McAllister’s intentions before? Because she’d been so busy with her own agenda, concentrating on avoiding falling for Rafe’s macho cowboy image and thinking about how to convince him to sell his land to Horton Developers.
But what if he didn’t sell? Had James really explored the alternatives? Would Rafe lose his ranch, anyway? Would she actually be doing him and his mother a favor by offering them enough money to buy a smaller place they could manage, maybe put some money away for retirement or a vacation for Mrs. McAllister?
“How was your day, son?” Mrs. McAllister asked.
“Fine.” Rafe offered no more, and Suzanne wondered why his reply sounded so clipped.
“What was that horse trailer doing out there? Did you take in some more boarders?”
“No.” Rafe washed his dinner down with a hefty swallow of tea. “Palo Romerez pulled his horses. He’s taking him to Landon’s.” Rafe stabbed a piece of cornbread and slathered butter on it. Suzanne couldn’t imagine a man with a healthier appetite. Did he approach lovemaking with as much passion?
He was so committed to his mother, to his ranch—if he ever fell in love with a woman, would he be as committed?
“Seems Landon offered him a sweet deal to work for him.”
“You mean he bribed him, to steal him out from under you,” Rafe’s mother said. “That no-account cuss. He’s been trying to wheedle our land away from us for years.” She turned to Suzanne. “Used to hound Frank all the time to sell.”
Suzanne shifted uncomfortably. So, losing the boarders was the reason Rafe had been so upset. Rafe wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood, then began gathering dishes. Mrs. McAllister pushed back her chair and reached for them. “Stop that right now, son. You’ve worked hard enough on the ranch today. I’ll do the dishes while you take Suzanne for that ride you promised her.”
“But you’re not supposed—”
“I’ll help Rafe with them,” Suzanne said, jumping into action.
“No, dear, Maria will be back any minute. She’ll help me. You serve the cake you brought and get the coffee. Then you two take your ride.” She smiled wistfully. “That is, unless you want cake and coffee afterward.”
“You baked a cake?” Rafe asked, his surprise irking Suzanne.
“Yes, why don’t you try some.”
Minutes later Suzanne stared at the raptured look on Rafe’s face as he consumed the dessert. The man did eat the way he worked, with passion and unabashed masculinity. Again she wondered if he made love the same way.
He licked the last of the chocolate crumbs from his finger, and she imagined that tongue trailing over her. “I have to admit that was delicious.” His dark eyes met hers, enigmatic, sexy, brooding. Filled with hunger for more. “Obviously I was wrong about you being able to cook.”
She met his gaze with a challenging smile. “You might find you’ve been wrong about a lot of things concerning me.”
He arched a brow and Suzanne realized he had accepted her challenge. She was ready for the games to begin. No more pussyfooting around the fact that she found him attractive.
And that he had missed some undeniably good qualities she had. If Rafe didn’t like her, she wanted to know why. Or at least she wanted to prove him wrong and show him that he had misjudged her.
RAFE STUDIED SUZANNE as they saddled the horses and rode out to the northernmost pasture, bordering Pine Ridge. He had been wrong about Suzanne being able to cook. Had he misjudged her about other things, as well? Did she have secrets that would negate all the things he’d thought about her when they’d first met?
Was she really nothing like Cecilia?
Would she break his heart if he opened himself up to her, or would she turn out to be the sensitive, caring woman he sensed lay beneath the surface of her beautiful tough-girl facade?
They passed the stream again and his favorite clearing, then rode toward Summit Falls, the place he had called a sanctuary as a child. Orange and yellow lines painted a portrait in the sky, the purple hues of dusk cloaking the treetops with a surreal glow. The mountains rose before them, a burst of spring dotted with new buds blossoming on branches left bare from winter.
“It’s beautiful,” Suzanne admitted.
He was so tired of fighting this attraction to her, of being alone. With everything else going wrong in his life, didn’t he deserve to have a moment of pleasure? A small amount of comfort…
He guided Thunder along the trail to the waterfall, admiring Suzanne’s natural riding instincts.
The forest suddenly opened up, and the sound of gushing water brought his head up. He pivoted to see Suzanne’s reaction, and couldn’t help but grin at the wide-eyed, look of awe in her beautiful eyes.
“It’s breathtaking,” Suzanne said.
“I know. I’ve been coming here all my life.” He guided Thunder to the edge of the pool where the waterfall flowed over jagged rocks, and tied him to a tree, tying Blondie beside him. Then he reached up his hand and offered Suzanne a lift down. She slid her hand in his, her smooth skin sparking desire low in his belly.
“Whenever I got mad
at my dad or was tired of working after a long hot day,” Rafe said, “I’d come up here to clear my head.”
“I can see why.” Suzanne’s hand felt small in his, and although he’d expected her to protest, since he hadn’t exactly been welcoming earlier, she followed him along the trail. They climbed over a tree stump, then Rafe sat down and pulled off his boots.
“What are you doing?” Suzanne asked.
“Taking off my boots.”
“I can see that, cowboy.” She rolled her eyes, then looked toward the water, the truth dawning. “You’re kidding, right? You’re going in?”
“Yep.” He tossed his socks over a rock.
Suzanne’s hands went to her waist, drawing her shoulders back and jutting her breasts out. He had to look away to keep from staring. “Isn’t the water freezing?”
“That’s what makes it so invigorating.” He teased her with a lazy grin. “Why, city girl, are you too chicken to try it?”
Challenge flared in her eyes. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?”
He threw his head back and laughed. God, he loved her sassy spunk.
She dropped to the ground behind him and tugged off her own boots and socks. His shirt came next, then his jeans. Suzanne’s surprised gasp whispered through the air.
“There’s nothing worse than wet denim,” he said gruffly. Ignoring her flabbergasted look at the sight of his undressed state, or maybe it was the red undershorts—he’d forgotten about that—he stood and walked into the icy stream.
It was a shock to his system as the cold water slapped his bare thighs. He told himself that the icy temperature would stem his lusting libido. But he made the mistake of turning around and saw Suzanne toss off her shirt, then skim her own jeans to reveal a matching black silk bra and bikini that completely tied him up in knots. Was this what she meant when she said he wouldn’t be disappointed?
He fought the need to sweep her into his arms, to ravage her the way his primitive instincts urged him to do. Instead, he dipped his hand into the stream and splashed water toward her.
She shrieked, gave him a look that promised retribution, then scooped up a handful of water and splashed back. He laughed, dodged the spray and began to run toward the falls. Suzanne chased him, kicking water at him. He splashed back, teasing her to come closer to the mouth of the falls. Water cascaded down over the rocks, the pines and sycamores creating a shadowed canopy above. Suzanne laughed, shrieking again as the water grew deeper. Not giving her time to think about it, he grabbed her, dragging her under the falls.
She squealed and screamed as the cold water pulsed over her head, and he laughed, shivering himself as her bare thighs and wet panties brushed his legs. She fought for release, pushing and laughing, and he finally looped an arm around her waist and swam with her to the edge. Water spiked her dark lashes as she looked up at him, her skin glistening with the icy droplets. Her teeth chattered, so they climbed out and he rubbed his hands up and down her arms to warm her.
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she said.
“I’ve always thought so.” Rafe’s eyes raked over her long lithe body. “That is until now.”
Suzanne met his gaze with a sultry look of her own, then laughed, one dainty hand going to her hip, which she jutted out, teasing him even more. “Why, Rafe McAllister, I do believe you actually paid me a compliment. And here I thought you didn’t like me.”
He couldn’t help himself any longer. She was beautiful and strong and gutsy. Her nipples beaded in the cool air beneath that flimsy thing she called a bra, tantalizing him, and a little shiver rippled through her, telling him that his hungry look had aroused her. Forgetting all the reasons he shouldn’t touch her, he wrapped his arm around her slender waist and lowered his mouth. “Honey, I like a lot of things about you.” Then he claimed her mouth, letting her know exactly how much.
Chapter Ten
Suzanne felt as if she’d been waiting forever for Rafe’s kiss, as if he held some elusive key to her heart, and yet at the same time she sensed she was diving into deep, uncharted water. The emotions and depth of passion he ignited in her with his sudden hunger caused a quiver of fear to run through her.
She had never been kissed with such tenderness and heat at the same time, as if he held her reverently while knowing she had hidden desires just waiting to break through to the surface. Hidden desires she had never revealed to another man. Desires she wasn’t sure she even understood, desires that only he could tap into.
When James kissed her, she had never felt that emotional upheaval in her heart. She’d thought that was a good thing. But she’d been cheating herself, protecting herself from getting hurt by connecting with someone. Was she afraid to want more? To open herself up to love? Was that what Grammy Rose had meant in the letter she’d put in her hope chest? That she’d built walls to protect herself and hadn’t let herself fall in love?
Love? She did not love Rafe. But she couldn’t deny her attraction. He was tough and brooding, a man in trouble, but he was also honorable, a man who loved his land and his mother. He had scars. His limp, plus the physical ones she’d noticed on his back when he’d removed his shirt, all of which intrigued her.
Did he have emotional ones, too?
Rafe’s lips touched hers, almost tentative, as he explored her mouth with the tip of his tongue. Then he gently thumbed a strand of hair from her forehead and traced a path down her nose, cupped her chin in his hand and angled his head to plunder her more deeply.
“You taste like sugar and spice and everything nice,” he whispered.
A heady sense of need overwhelmed Suzanne. She wanted to submit to him, to do whatever he wanted at that moment. Just as long as he kept touching her, murmuring sweet and tender words. As long as his big, hard body surrounded her, enveloped her, cocooned her in his strength.
She dug her hands into his thick dark hair, pulling him closer, inflamed by the rough stubble on his jaw as his mouth trailed lower to nip at her neck. His breath feathered the inner recesses of her ear, and she groaned, cold water splashing her thighs as he yanked her up against him, cradling her between his legs. His sex pulsed against her bare midriff, and hunger exploded between them. His hair-dusted chest grazed her bare shoulders, and Suzanne gripped his arms, excitement stirring inside when his muscles bunched beneath her fingertips. He kissed her harder, taking, seeking, claiming her as if he desperately needed her, as if he might starve without her taste.
Then his mouth fled to the soft swell of her breasts, and her legs buckled. Rafe caught her and swung her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing, his lips teasing her neck again, his breath bathing her sensitive skin. Their gazes locked, questions asked but left unanswered.
But moonlight flitted through the tall pines, sharpening the image of the sapphire engagement ring James had given her. It suddenly felt heavy, weighing down her hand.
She glanced down at her near-naked body, drenched in icy water, quivering with longing for Rafe McAllister, and guilt slammed into her.
“Rafe…”
He stared at her long and hard, his muscular arms trembling slightly as the realization of what they’d almost done sank in. His head dropped forward against hers, his voice low, filled with regret. “I’m sorry, I got carried away.”
“No, it wasn’t your fault.” She laid her hand against his cheek. God help her, but she still wanted him. Only, he didn’t know the truth about her. Good gracious, what was she going to tell James?
How could she marry him when she’d almost succumbed to another man so quickly?
And why did her body ache so much for Rafe when her mind told her he was all wrong for her?
RAFE CARRIED SUZANNE to the edge of the water and climbed out, then slowly eased her to the ground. She was shivering with cold now, her skin covered in goose bumps. He desperately wanted to warm her with his body, the old-fashioned way, but his instincts warned him to back off. Her legs tortured him, though, as they slid against his. Her
smooth satiny skin was such a contrast to his own that another surge of desire rippled through him. How long had it been since he had held a woman in his arms, since he had made love to one? Since he had taken comfort in a woman’s arms?
Was that all he wanted here? Comfort?
He told himself yes, even though a part of him knew the truth—that he wanted more. But he couldn’t allow himself to want more. He had nothing to offer.
Her fingers brushed over the puckered skin on his back, and he tensed. Not only did he have nothing to offer, but he was a scarred man. Funny, but he hadn’t even thought of the scars when he’d stripped off his shirt. Odd, since he thought he’d never forget the beating his ex-girlfriend’s boyfriend had given him. Had Suzanne been repulsed?
He pulled away slowly. “I guess we’d better get back.”
She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as she walked to the bank to retrieve her clothes. He wished he’d brought a towel or extra blanket but he hadn’t planned this outing. Especially the kissing part.
He offered her his T-shirt instead. “Here, you can dry off with this before you put on your clothes. It’s clean.”
She smiled and took his shirt, patting the worst of the moisture from her arms and legs as he watched. Damn, he was envious of his own shirt.
Her gaze rose and found his, and that sultry smile returned. She saw him watching her, knew he was mesmerized by her movements, and she brushed it across her abdomen, then brought it to her breasts. He cursed, turned around and jerked on his chambray shirt, then shrugged into his jeans before he could grab her again and touch her the way he wanted.
But Suzanne Hartwell didn’t deserve to be taken on the cold hard ground.
And the fact that seconds ago he would have taken her there, would have taken her anywhere he could get her, proved that he was all wrong for her.