by Linda Cajio
Trying to find a thread of bravery within her, Liz stared at his tanned, leanly handsome profile. His hair was brushed off his forehead as usual, and the brown curls glinted in the sunlight. His beard seemed redder than ever, and she knew how sensual it felt against her skin whenever and wherever he kissed her. From the side his expression was brooding, but it only enhanced his perfect features. The white T-shirt he wore outlined his spine before disappearing into a pair of faded jeans that were molded to his lean buttocks and thighs. His shoulders were hunched slightly as his sinewy forearms rested on the top of the stone wall, and she could see the bold definition of his muscles under his sun-darkened skin. The hands that had drowned every inch of her body in indescribable sensations were clasped loosely in front of him.
He was absolutely beautiful, she thought in awe. The perfect man in face and form.
She suddenly realized that lately she had been repressing her awareness of his physical appearance. Instead, she must have been unconsciously concentrating on Matt the man in the hopes of discovering inner flaws. And she’d found a few. He was arrogant, but it was a tender arrogance. He was demanding, but that was tempered by gentleness. He was stubborn to the point of exasperation, and yet he was always willing to make concessions.
Well, maybe only one, Liz admitted in a brief moment of amusement. She, unfortunately, had been stubborn enough for the both of them. Matt wasn’t perfect, no human being ever was, but he was a far better person than she. A little crazy, too, but that was what she loved most about him.
Wondering what she could say to him to make up for all the hurt she might have caused and dismally hoping she’d find something in the next two seconds, she walked over to the wall and stood next to him. He still didn’t give her a glance as she leaned her elbows on the wall and stared out at the pasture.
Her stomach flip-flopping, she knew it was up to her to break the tense silence. Frantically searching her blank mind, she finally blurted out the only words she could think of.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
She instantly wished herself into a deep hole as she remembered she’d once before uttered that particular phrase to him.
“I love it when you yell at me,” Matt said.
His voice sounded cold and remote. Liz felt tears welling in her eyes, and she willed herself to maintain her composure. She needed to make her apology, not weep like a baby for what she had lost. She wouldn’t embarrass Matt. She just couldn’t do that to him on top of everything else.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” she managed in a tight voice. “What you did for Millie was a near miracle, and I acted small and petty about the whole thing.” Her voice dropped. “Thank you for getting Mr. Seaver—”
His wry chuckle interrupted her. “I wonder what Hopewell thought, seeing their banker high-tailing it across the common. Fortunately you’ve got the legs for it, honey.”
She felt the implied insult down to her toes, but didn’t say anything. Matt was entitled to be sarcastic, she thought, and she’d take the bitter medicine.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw him turn toward her. “Look at me, Liz.”
She sighed quietly and turned, still keeping one elbow on the wall to hold herself upright. His face was devoid of all expression, except for the tiny movement of his beard as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.
“Sometimes,” he said, “a man doesn’t realize the damage he’s done until it’s too late. Pride won’t let him see it. I never meant to hurt you. I should have realized how you’d feel and taken steps to prevent it.”
“Please, Matt,” she cried out as a sharp pain sliced through her. He was clearly trying to tell her in the nicest way that he didn’t feel the same way she did. She told herself she’d rather die than hear the rest of his good-bye speech. “I stopped only to apologize to you. That’s all.”
Blindly she turned in the direction of her car.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her back against him. “Wait a minute, Liz! I’m entitled to finish my own apology before you tell me to hit the road!”
She twisted around and stared up at him in shock. “But you were telling me to hit the road.”
“I was not!”
“Yes you were!”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” he said, a grin beginning to form on his lips. “Is anyone telling anyone to hit the road?”
“This anyone isn’t,” she replied, and started laughing as he lifted her off the ground in a tight hug.
She wound her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder to hide her happy tears.
“Liz, Liz,” he murmured, planting kisses in her hair.
Matt covered her lips in a searing kiss, letting the special magic that was Liz flow through him. He touched her everywhere to be sure she was really there in his arms, that he hadn’t lost her through his stupidity. He felt her hands burrow into his hair, trying to pull him closer. Her mouth was infinitely soft and sweet as it fused with his. Her tongue darted into his mouth, challenging his to a gentle duel. As she wrapped her arms more tightly around him, he felt himself beginning to fall under her irresistible spell. Then he suddenly remembered they were out in the open and anyone could pass by and see them.
Reluctantly he let her go. By some miracle he hadn’t ruined everything, but he wouldn’t press his luck any further.
Seeing her open, unfocused gray eyes, he smiled. The freckles that dotted her delicate gamine features were becoming more prominent from the summer sun. Her wheat-colored hair was loose around her shoulders, and was streaked with white-gold highlights he’d never noticed before. It must be the sun, he thought, and reached out to touch it, savoring the feel of the silken strands clinging to his fingers. He couldn’t help smiling at her pastel green blazer, dirndl skirt, and the white blouse with its Victorian collar and ruffled jabot. His Liz was as prim as always on the outside, and only he knew about the simmering volcano underneath.
“I wasn’t pitying you,” she said in a determined tone.
“That’s debatable,” he rushed in before she could say more. He chuckled. “But it took a while for me to realize your feelings weren’t directed at me, but at a young, mixed-up boy who’s long gone now.”
She nodded. “Exactly. Why did you take off like that, without a word?”
He rolled his eyes heavenward. “You would ask that. I wanted to surprise you by helping Millie.”
She grinned. “Believe me, I was surprised. It just took me a while to be delighted.”
“I eventually realized I’d jumped all over you for nothing that night when we were sitting by the garden shed,” he continued, wanting to clear up the mess he’d made with her. “That night also made me realize how lucky I had been. Suddenly I knew I wanted to give some other kids a chance for a better life. A chance I had never had. So I went to New York and saw the head of the Ford Modeling Agency. My former employer has always been involved in charity work, and she’s on the board of Deerling. She liked my idea of a working farm project, where the children could learn about responsibility and self-respect. Besides, I had a crazy notion that if I helped Millie, I’d be a respectable citizen in your eyes.”
Liz started laughing. “Matt, you have never been a respectable citizen to me. Just crazy. And I love you for it.”
“You’d better,” he growled, then gave her another searing kiss. Finally he murmured against her pliant lips, “I love you, Liz.”
“I love you, you crazy nut.”
There was a long moment of silence, then Matt raised his head and said, “I think I always have loved you. You’re beautiful and sexy as hell. You’re independent and stubborn. You’re dynamite in a tiny, primly wrapped package. You’re a fighter just like me, although you’ve been fighting the wrong things for a while now.”
“Don’t ruin it,” she warned him dryly, leaning back on his arm that was curved around her waist.
He chuckled and kissed her again. “See. Still fighting. What you need is someone to
control you, woman! What you need is a man—”
“Too bad I can’t find one,” she said, looking everywhere but at him.
He tugged at her hair until her amused gaze settled back on his face. “You’re in terrible shape, honey. I never should have allowed you the upper hand in this relationship.”
“Just a momentary slipup on your part, I’m sure,” she murmured, curling her arms around his neck. She pressed her body full against him. “Welcome back, Macho Man.”
Matt smiled at the name. At the moment he felt more powerful, more secure in his maleness than ever. Love made a person stronger, not dependent, he thought. It defined the individual halves while forming two people into a whole. It provided support, caring, forgiveness, and shelter. A tiny private world against the hurts of the larger one. He realized there was a tremendous strength for a man in loving a woman and being loved in return. And he would nurture this love, protect it.
He gathered Liz closer, wanting to seal their commitment physically.
A distant enraged roar and pounding hooves suddenly shattered the poignant silence.
“What the hell—”
“Run!” Liz screamed, pulling at his arm while obeying her own order.
As he turned toward the cars, Matt glanced over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of a four-legged monster the size of a freight train bellowing its anger. The thing sped toward them from over a hillock at the other end of the pasture, closing the short hundred yards in shockingly few seconds.
“Holy—”
Matt bit off the curse. His heart slamming against his chest, he grabbed Liz by the waist and raced for the meager protection of the cars. He fervently prayed the stone wall would hold the creature back long enough for him to get the Corvette started.
“Hide on the other side while I get the keys out!” he shouted, giving Liz a push toward the front bumper when they reached the car.
“It’s okay,” she said, gasping as she grabbed his arms. She started laughing. ‘It’s only Romeo.”
“Are you crazy?” he yelled over the bull’s loud bawling. “That thing could easily break through the wall!”
“I don’t think so,” she replied breathlessly, and pointed back to the stone barrier. “Anyway, he won’t.”
Matt turned and watched in surprise as Romeo, still complaining noisily, paced back and forth on the other side of the wall. He made no attempt to push against the wall or scale it, seemingly content with scaring ten years out of his victims.
“I thought we were goners,” Matt muttered, realizing Romeo was quite a bit smaller than he’d first thought. He’d always pictured the animal as being more the size of the famous black Andalusian bulls of Spain. Of course, Romeo wasn’t exactly a toy poodle either.
“Micah must have just let him into the pasture,” Liz said. “The gate’s on the other side. I’m sorry, Matt. I guess I forgot exactly where we were.”
“It’s okay. Are you sure he won’t come through the wall?” Matt asked dubiously, eyeing the short horns that still looked wicked enough to rip a man open in one swipe.
“Romeo is very protective of his territory, but he doesn’t overstep his boundaries,” Liz replied with a chuckle. “He might be a dairy bull, but he’s got an oversized ego where strangers are concerned. Unfortunately Micah never had the heart to have Romeo dehorned when he was a calf, and now it’s too late.”
“As one macho male to another, I can certainly respect Romeo wanting to protect what’s his,” Matt said dryly. “And I don’t intend to take chances with mine. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Twelve
As she waited patiently in the darkness of her living room, Liz chuckled, remembering the way Matt had almost shoved her into his car that afternoon. Romeo had certainly made his usual awe-inspiring first impression.
Her amusement faded as she realized the bull had disrupted them before they had finished their discussion. There were still a few minor obstacles to be worked out—like how to go public and when. She and Matt had never even had a first date. In her zeal for privacy, she’d forced Matt to use more devious methods in his courtship of her. Now, of course, things were different.
Curling her feet up under her on the swivel rocker, Liz wondered how slowly they should take their public dates. She had the feeling neither of them would be satisfied with that arrangement for very long. About two minutes, probably. Maybe a whirlwind courtship would be better.
There was only one problem with that, she decided in growing frustration. A whirlwind courtship always ended in a quick marriage. Matt had never mentioned marriage.
Hearing the click of the back door opening, Liz dismissed her doubts. She’d simply ask him what was next … and throw him back to Romeo if marriage wasn’t in there somewhere.
“You’re making it easy on your ‘secret admirer,’ ” Matt said in a low voice as he entered the living room.
“Aren’t you glad?” she murmured, rising out of the rocker and going into his arms.
His kiss was devastating, and Liz instantly forgot the notion she’d had of talking. She groaned as his hands found her breasts under the lavender satin robe she was wearing, his thumbs bringing her nipples to aching points. Slipping her own hands under his black sweater, she caressed the muscles of his back, glorying in the satin-sheathed iron.
“Lord, but you feel good. Damn good,” he whispered against her soft mouth. “Bed?”
“Bed.”
She curled her arms around his shoulders, and he lifted her in his embrace. As he carried her up the stairs, she felt as if he were carrying her into a tent in a desert, like a sheikh with his harem favorite. Just the two of them, and a night of love.
“Miss me?” he asked, gazing down at her exactly like that desert sheikh would.
She gave her answer in another kiss. But when she would have broken away, his hungry mouth held hers. Mists seemed to close in on her, and she clung to him, her lids fluttering down over her eyes. Her heart pounded at the sensations his kiss provoked inside her. She trailed her fingers across his shoulders, then under the collar of his sweater, loving the feel of his warm skin.
When he finally released her lips, she became aware of her surroundings and, to her surprise, discovered they were in the bedroom and she was lying on the bed. She smiled and opened her eyes.
“That was a real suave maneuver,” she said in a throaty voice.
“Sheer luck I didn’t kill us both on the stairs,” he admitted with a husky laugh. He came down on top of her. “We’re going to make up for a lot of lost nights in this bed.”
“I feel another suave maneuver coming on,” she said lazily as he gathered her in his arms again.
With a chuckle he rubbed his growing arousal against her thigh. “I love it when you talk dirty.”
His lips came down on hers once more, and Liz pressed herself into his hard body. She clutched at him, her nails unconsciously digging into his sweater in response to the pleasure his kiss created.
“I could kiss you forever,” he murmured.
She couldn’t speak as he ran his tongue up her neck, then nipped gently at her ear. Hot shudders swept through her. He calmed them with gentle kisses on her brow, her cheek, her jaw. When his kisses reached her slender neck again, they grew more demanding, tenderly savaging her sensitive flesh. His mouth dropped lower. She writhed helplessly under him as he kissed her breasts through the satin robe. He lifted his head for a moment and pushed the robe off her shoulders, baring her to the waist.
Liz felt her blood turn heavy in her veins. Her breasts ached for his touch, and, as if hearing their plea, he ran his finger lightly around the soft outer flesh. It wasn’t enough, and she cried out in protest.
“I almost forgot how fragile you are,” he whispered. He untied the robe’s sash, then coaxed it off her. “Like a delicate piece of porcelain on the outside.”
“I won’t break,” she assured him, reaching out and pulling his sweater over his head. She pressed her hands into the silk
y hairs covering his leanly muscled chest.
“And dynamite on the inside,” he added breathlessly as she pushed him onto his back. “With a short fuse.”
“Very short, when it comes to you,” she murmured, pulling herself up and straddling him. “I love you.”
“I love you.” He nearly groaned as her hands began stroking his chest and ribs.
Male silk, she thought in wonder as her fingers slowly drew patterns in the thick pelt of hair. To her delight, his nipple was erect and he groaned again when she traced it with a gentle finger. She bent and kissed him.
Their mouths blended fervently, sealing their commitment to each other and giving promises of the sensual delights to be had. Matt’s arms wrapped her in a haven of love. Liz felt it flow into her, even as her own love flowed to him. Tears wet her eyes at the beauty of it. Then the need came like a hot rushing waterfall, pulling her under.
His embrace tightening, Matt strung kisses down her throat and chest until he captured the soft globe of one breast. He gently nipped the satiny slope, then worried at her pulsing nipple. She cried out and clung to him. She tugged at his head, desperate for his lips on her own. He resisted and took her nipple more fully into his mouth, assuaging one ache and creating another. She moaned. His hands moved down her back, over her derriere and slender thighs.
“Matt, please, please,” she chanted.
“Love you, love you,” he chanted back against her breasts.
His fingers found the moist velvet between her thighs, and she nearly cried out at the fire that shot through her. From a great distance she heard his moan of pleasure. The sound of it was even more erotic than what was happening to her own body. She wanted to hear it again.
With urgent hands she pushed against his shoulders until his embrace loosened. She slid down his body, stringing frantic kisses everywhere her lips could reach. She undid his belt, her fingers fumbling a little in her haste. He chuckled softly, and she glanced up.
“Impatient, as always,” he said in a tenderly amused voice. “I love it.”