Nan Ryan

by Written in the Stars

  Her bare stomach did an immediate flip-flop. Her face pinkened at the vivid recollection of the previous night’s wildly ardent lovemaking. Blushing, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut while her full lips curved into an embarrassed smile.

  Too happy and excited to attempt falling back to sleep, Diane again opened her eyes. She considered waking Star. She didn’t do it. This handsome, gentle man she dearly loved was tired. She’d let him rest. For a while at least.

  Very slowly, very carefully Diane disengaged herself from Star’s long, imprisoning arms. An inch at a time she scooted over to the huge bed’s edge and cautiously sat up.

  She rose silently and looked about for something to wear. She spotted—tossed over the back of a chair—the blue collarless pullover shirt that Star had worn on the train. Diane stole quietly across the room, picked up the shirt, and poked her head through the neck opening. She shoved her arms up into the sleeves and pulled the blue shirt down over her body to cover her nakedness. The long-tailed shirt concealed her bare breasts and bottom, but left her pale thighs and long legs uncovered.

  A silver-framed door of glass with a gleaming silver knob at one end of the glass wall opened onto an outside balcony fashioned of cedar planks. Diane looked one last time at the sleeping Star, smiled, and slipped out onto the balcony. Barefoot, she crossed the broad cedar gallery to stand at the waist-high railing. Mindless of the early-morning chill, she gripped the smooth rail and stood taking in the marvelous view.

  She loved Star’s beautiful state of Nevada. She loved his big, comfortable house and its spectacular setting. The landscape spread out before her was nothing short of stunning.

  The rocky peaks of Sun Mountain glowing like live coals in the rising September sun. And far, far beyond, the giant redwoods of California’s High Sierra, their reigning majesty unchallenged. The lush branches of the towering bristlecone pines quivering in the gentle breeze. Alpine chipmunks scampering over fallen boulders. Pristine white heather growing wild along the mountain’s granite ridges.

  Diane inhaled deeply.

  Here in this place of hushed and intricate beauty, far from the world and its cares, she stood in the chill September dawn glowing with warmth and happiness. It was one of those rare occasions when she fully realized that she was gloriously happy and totally content. Right now. Today. Not last year or five years ago, but now.

  Like every other human being who had ever lived, Diane Buchannan had the normal tendency to look back on an occasion or period in her past and fondly recall it as being far, far better than it had actually been, conveniently forgetting any problems or unpleasantness that had existed.

  Or else she looked ahead, daydreaming of that bright, yet-to-be-lived day somewhere in the hazy future when everything in her life would be absolutely perfect and she would be totally, everlastingly happy.

  Diane was a perceptive and intelligent woman. She well understood that there were precious few times in anyone’s life, no matter how successful or satisfying that life might be, when he or she realizes this is it. This is the time. This is exactly what I’ve dreamed of and longed for all my life. Everything to be had on this old earth is mine this very day. This very minute.

  Diane knew instinctively that she was as happy at this minute as she would ever be in her life. There might be moments or days just as good in the years that stretched before her, but there would—could—be no better. This was the ultimate, and she was thoroughly enjoying it.

  Everything was perfect. From the cool mountain air kissing her face and long, bare legs to the sweet realization that the only man she had ever loved or would ever love was asleep just inside this remote mountain home, a home she hoped to share with him until both were old and gray.

  Silently Diane thanked a wise and generous God for giving her Star and the strange, unlikely fates that had brought them together. Grateful to both, Diane savored the moment.

  When suddenly she felt that wonderfully new yet familiar tingling of excitement causing the blood to rush through her veins, she knew without looking that Star was near. Very near. His presence was so powerful and exciting her bare knees began to tremble.

  Diane drew a shallow breath and turned. She smiled with joy as she watched Star approach, looking sleepy and boyishly handsome. His beautiful dark eyes half hooded, he yawned, raked a tanned hand through his disheveled black hair, and crossed to her. Barefoot, he wore only his tight beige trousers, half buttoned up over his belly. His bronzed torso was naked.

  “Good mornin’,” he said when he reached her, sliding a lean hand up underneath her long dark hair.

  “It sure is now,” Diane said, smiling, then encircled Star’s trim waist to hug him and stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

  It was a warm, sweet, intimate kiss of lovers, and when their lips separated, Star’s long fingers were tangled in Diane’s heavy hair. He urged her head back as his navy eyes locked with hers.

  “Don’t,” he warned, unsmiling, a hint of the old danger radiating from the depths of his dark eyes, “ever let me wake up again and not find you in my bed.”

  Diane shivered pleasantly. “I promise you, my love.”

  Star grinned then, kissed her mouth again, and gently turned her about in his arms. He drew her back against his tall frame and locked his wrists in front of her. For a moment they stood there together, looking out at the mountainous terrain, silently enjoying the beauty and tranquillity.

  Star said in a sleep-heavy voice, “How long has it been since I told you I love you?”

  Diane smiled and clung to the dark arms around her. “About an hour.”

  “A whole hour? How thoughtless of me.”

  “Don’t let it happen again.”

  “I love you,” he said, his lips in her hair. “I love you, Miss Buchannan. Very, very much.”

  Diane’s eyes closed with pleasure. “And I love you, Mr. Star. Honest I do.”

  “You’d better, sweetheart,” he said commandingly. Before Diane could reply, he added, “What exactly, I am wondering, are you wearing under my shirt?” Star bent his dark head, harmlessly bit the side of her throat with sharp white teeth, and unlocked his wrists.

  He stood close behind her. His hands rubbed across the front of her shirt down to her stomach.

  Diane caught her breath. “Would you like to guess?”

  “No. I prefer finding out for myself.” His hands began sliding downward, his hooded eyes lowering with them.

  “Mmm, a wise idea.” Diane sighed, as ready to play as he. But a second later she abruptly squirmed away from Star’s hands, pointing and shouting excitedly, “Star, look! Look! Did you see it?”

  Shaken out of his amorous mood, Star followed her finger. A big black horse was plunging rapidly down the mountainside. Flashing in and out of the trees, neighing and snorting loudly, the huge beast seemed to be headed directly toward the high back fence.

  Star grinned. “Yes, baby. I see him.”

  “A wild stallion!” Diane exclaimed. “A magnificent wild stallion!”

  “Plenty of wild horses in Nevada.”

  “My lord, he’s coming right up to the back fence.” Diane’s violet eyes shone with excitement. “I can’t believe it.”

  Star’s grin broadened, but he didn’t let Diane see it. From behind her he said, “Want to see the stallion come even closer?”

  Diane’s head immediately snapped around to look at Star. She saw he was serious. She gave him a mocking smile and shook her head. “Darling, I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes, you are.” Diane’s tone was mildly patronizing. “You were able to take that rancher’s stallion from the barn without any trouble, so now you suppose you can conquer this black stallion. Isn’t that it?”

  “I’m in love with a mind reader.”

  Diane smiled. “Star, that horse you stole was a tame saddle pony.” She again shook her head, turned back to admire the neighing stallion prancing nervously back and forth be
yond the fence. “I know a little about horses myself. It’s doubtful any human will ever get closer to that wild, spirited stallion than we are right now.”

  “Could be,” said Star thoughtfully. Then he added, “But this morning I feel so damned good I’m of a mind that nothing is impossible.” He gave her a squeeze, and she nodded and smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. Star said, “If I get that beast to come closer, will you cook our breakfast?”

  “Certainly.” Diane was quick to agree, comfortable it couldn’t be done. “And if—make that when—you don’t succeed, you cook.”

  “It’s a bargain, sweetheart.”

  Diane never saw the teasing smile curving Star’s sensual lips or the devilish twinkling of his dark navy eyes. He wet his lips with his tongue, stuck his thumb and index finger into the corners of his mouth, and gave a long, low whistle.

  The nervously prancing stallion’s ears shot up, quivering forward. He whinnied loudly, his big eyes round. Snorting and blowing, he wheeled about in a semicircle and raced away from the fence. He swiftly charged back up the mountainside, dislodging pebbles and frightening squirrels in his haste to get away. He disappeared into the thick forest of pines.

  “There, you see,” Diane said. “What did I tell you?”

  The words were hardly out of her mouth before the big beast flashed into a clearing high up on the slope. He whipped around and came racing back down at a hard gallop. Diane held her breath when he neared the tall fence enclosing the backyard of the estate. She needn’t have. The powerful stallion leaped over that fence as if it weren’t there and immediately slowed to a canter.

  While Diane watched in openmouthed awe, the gleaming black stallion crossed the yard, coming toward them. Not believing her own eyes, Diane turned to Star. His calm brown face didn’t betray a thing. Leaning over the balcony, Diane turned her attention back to the stallion. The big beast was directly below now, shaking his great head and nickering.

  Star smiled to himself. He brought both hands down on the cedar railing, enclosing Diane inside in his long arms. Chest pressing against Diane’s back, he leaned over her and said to the stallion, “What about it, boy? Can you say good morning?”

  The horse’s ears shot up, quivering forward to catch his master’s familiar voice. He reared up on his hind legs, pawed at the air with his front hooves, and made loud, whistling sounds of salutation. Diane was dumbfounded. And amazed. And impressed.

  “Star! That’s incredible. I can’t believe it … it’s like he understands and—and—” Suspicion suddenly dawned. Diane stopped speaking. Violet eyes narrowed, she spun about to face Star, caught the traces of a smile and the light flashing in his navy eyes. “So the stallion’s wild?” She skeptically lifted a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Never seen him before, huh?”

  “Never have.” Star laughed then, a deep, rumbling laugh that came from far down inside.

  “Why, you big liar!” Diane shoved her elbows into his naked chest to push him away and started hitting him.

  Chuckling and half dodging her blows, Star allowed her to punish him for a few seconds before he caught her arms and hugged her tightly to him.

  “Well, maybe I’ve seen the stallion around. Might have spoken to him a time or two.”

  Playfully Diane bit his bare shoulder. “He’s yours, isn’t he?” She raised her head, looked at Star.

  Star smiled, kissed her haughty nose, and drew her to his side. “Sweetheart, meet Black Star. I’ve had him since he was a colt.” He looked down at the big beast, which was still putting up a racket. “Hey, hold it down, fella. Meet Diane, I’ve had her only a few precious hours. Beautiful, isn’t she?” The stallion whickered and shook his head. “He thinks you’re beautiful,” Star told Diane.

  Her eyes on the black, Diane replied, “And I think he’s magnificent. Tell him that.”

  “He heard you,” Star assured her.

  Diane smiled. “Naturally I thought he was wild. Darling, is it wise to allow Black Star to run loose while you’re away?”

  “It’s not just while I’m away. It’s when I’m here as well,” Star said matter-of-factly. “Black Star doesn’t like being penned. Concealed beyond the trees, his stable is left open at all times. He comes and goes as he pleases.”

  “You’re not afraid he’ll run away? That you might lose him?”

  “No. The only way to hold a gem like Black Star is to allow him his freedom. The fence hasn’t been built that could hold him if he didn’t want to stay.” The smile abruptly left Star’s face. He looked straight into Diane’s eyes. “Diane, I was teasing you earlier when I warned you to never let me wake up without you being in my bed. I didn’t mean that.”

  “You didn’t?”

  Almost violently Star shook his dark head. “I want you with me, but only as long as that’s where you want to be. I would never—”

  “Star, I—”

  “Let me finish. I kidnapped you. I’ve held you against your will. That will never happen again. We are equals, you and I. You’re free, darling, and always will be.” He smiled at her. “This house will never be a prison or cage to keep you inside. I want you to know that.” His navy eyes had darkened to black, and his expression had become somber. “If at any time of the day or night you want to leave, you’re free to go.”

  “Star, darling,” she said softly, wrapped her arms around his waist, and laid her head on his bare chest, “I’ll never leave you. Never.”

  Chapter 38

  “You couldn’t run me off if you tried.” Diane brushed a kiss to his bare chest, then looked up into his eyes, tightened her arms around him, and added, “So don’t ever try.”

  “In that case,” he said, inclining his dark head and pointing inside, “get down those stairs and cook breakfast.”

  “Come with me?” she asked, her perfectly arched brows lifting hopefully.

  A generous smile curved his lips. “Jesus, you really think I’d let you loose in that kitchen by yourself?”

  “Coward! Who knows what fantastic cuisine I’d turn out?”

  Star chuckled. “Baby, I may feel like a king today, but I have no personal food taster. I’ll help with the meal.”

  “Must I learn to cook, Star?” Diane asked, suddenly serious, pressing closer to him.

  “Never,” he swiftly replied, his eyes on her full lips.

  “Thank goodness,” she said with total honesty. “I’m afraid I’m just not cut out for that sort of thing.”

  “I don’t care.” Star was as honest as she. “I know something you are cut out for,” he said as his hands molded the arch of her hips.

  “Star, stop it,” she scolded, “I’m hungry.”

  “I know. So am I.” His hands slipped up under the blue pullover shirt.

  Diane squealed, forcefully pushed him away, and hurried across the cedar balcony. Star watched her sprint toward the door, her raven hair flying wildly, her long, shapely legs churning. Smiling, he followed. Inside, she told him she needed something to wear. He nodded, grabbed her hand, led her into his large dressing room, and told her to take her pick. Diane chose a pair of black twill Levi’s and a pale yellow pullover shirt.

  She went back into the bedroom while Star yanked a clean white shirt from the rack and shoved his long arms down into the sleeves. Buttoning the shirt up his chest, he walked back into the bedroom. Diane wore the fresh yellow pullover. She was just stepping into the black twill Levi’s.

  Star grinned appreciatively and dropped down into a chair to observe. Diane pulled the pants up her long, slender legs and over the flare of her hips. The trousers fitted her snugly. They were, in fact, so tight she found she couldn’t quite get them buttoned.

  Lolling in his easy chair, one long leg draped over its arm, Star watched with amused pleasure as Diane battled with the buttons of the fly, her hair falling into her face, the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth in fierce concentration. He could tell by the faint color rising to her fair, lovely face that she was quickly growing
frustrated.

  “Need some help?” he asked, grinning, after several seconds had passed.

  “No!” Diane whipped her head back and glared at him. “I can manage, thank you.”

  “As you wish,” he said, absently nibbing his chest. She was comical, and she was cute. She was also innocently sexual. The gyrations and wiggling and thrusting of her pelvis made his mouth go dry.

  She tussled. She grappled. She wrestled.

  She sighed with frustration. She gritted her teeth. She uttered a mild oath under her breath. Still, she couldn’t get the tight black trousers buttoned up over her flat belly. When she heard Star’s low laughter, Diane irritably whipped her hair back out of her eyes and put her hands on her flaring hips.

  “The devil and Tom Walker!” she snapped, looking straight at him. “I can’t get these blasted pants buttoned. I must be getting fat!”

  Chuckling, Star came to his feet. And to her aid. “No, you’re not, sweetheart. You’re just about perfect.”

  He put his hands to her waist, lifted her feet from the floor, and carried her to the rumpled bed. He sat her on the edge of the mattress and knelt before her. He first rolled up the too-long pants legs over her bare feet. While he was about it, he bent his dark head and kissed her right instep.

  Then he lifted his head, grinned, and said, “Which is it to be, Miss Buchannan? The pants buttoned up”—he rubbed his hands along the insides of her knees—“or taken off?”

  “Buttoned up,” she said after a slight pause, not fully sure that was the choice she really wanted to make. “For now.”

  “Buttoned up it is,” Star said, gently pushed her over onto her back, and got on the bed with her. His weight supported on an elbow, he lay looking down at her while he easily buttoned her Levi’s with one hand, his lean, deft fingers grazing the bare flesh of her flat stomach.

  “I certainly hope,” Diane murmured, smiling up at him, “you’re half as good at unbuttoning my trousers as you are at buttoning them.”