Wyatt looked into her eyes. He had to know,
had to be sure she knew what her answer meant. He wasn’t going
to hurt her or frighten her or force her to do anything except to face
the truth of his wanting her. Anything that might happen between them
because of it would be her call.
He started slowly. “I would be thinking about walking over to
you and offering you my hand.”
“And if I took it?”
“I’d pull you to your feet. What happened next would depend
on whether or not we’re really in public or whether we’ve
moved into my fantasies.”
“What if it’s the here and now?” she asked, her voice
breathless and husky, as if her anticipation of his response had taken
her into a fantasy world of her own.
Ah, hell, he thought, realizing she’d just given him the go-ahead
he’d wanted. She was smart and sexy and easy to talk to, and the
minute they took things any further, he’d be in over his head.
And after all he’d done to protect himself and his privacy, to
keep from getting involved and ending up plastered face first in the
dirt . . . after all of it, he was falling for a woman who wasn’t
going to be around but for days.
Four days.
And he’d been worried about her wanting more time.
He reached across the table for her hand, and once her palm was flat
to his, he closed his fingers and got to his feet, holding her while
he circled around to her side and drew her up against him.
She didn’t resist when he moved his hands to her waist and lifted
her to sit on the table’s edge, but instead parted her legs, invited
him between, and hooked her heels behind his thighs to make sure he stayed.
He had no intention of going anywhere unless he dragged her out of the
kitchen and took her to bed. But he didn’t mind at all that she
wanted him close. Or that she slipped her fingers through his belt loops,
refusing to let him go.
“For being all about the here and now, I gotta say this is a hell
of a fantasy,” he said, his voice tight and raspy, an ache in his
throat. He rested his hands on her thighs just shy of the crease at her
hip.
“I’d say it’s a hell of a reality,” she told
him, doing that thing with her lip and her teeth and her tongue, that
thing that made him ache. “You’re certainly not what I was
expecting to find during my visit.”
He let her words settle, surprised that his first reaction wasn’t
to close down, that his second wasn’t to bolt. Still, he had to
know . . . “What do you think you’ve found?”
“I don’t know. A kindred spirit, maybe? You get what it’s
like not to trust easily, to wonder what’s behind someone’s
interest, whether their motives for being with you have anything to do
with who you really are, or if it’s only about what you can give
them.”
It was the truth, all of it. He appreciated that she understood. “You
know you haven’t once questioned mine. I told you I’d looked
into you. Aren’t you worried that I might be after more than getting
you into bed?”
“No,” she said, tugging his belt loops. “You agreed
to let me come before you knew any of that. And you have no reason to
need my family’s name and social connections.”
“What about your money?”
She knew he was teasing her. He saw it in her quirky smile. “I’m
only guessing here, but I doubt you have need of that either.”
“So where does that leave us?”
“With the rest of today, tomorrow, and Monday to enjoy this fantasy,” she
said, suddenly pragmatic.
He frowned. “I thought you said it was reality.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Why?”
“Because if it was real, we wouldn’t be dealing with a time
limit.”
“We don’t have to.”
“Even though you set it?”
“I changed my mind.” Four days wasn’t going to be
enough time no matter all his wariness of yesterday.
“Maybe you should wait and see if I’m any good in bed before
you do that.”
“No need,” he said, shaking his head and sliding his hands
beneath her sweatshirt, settling his palms on her rib cage just beneath
her breasts. “A man doesn’t have to get a woman into bed
to know if she’ll be a good time. At least the kind of good time
worth having. One that’s about more than a handy warm-and-willing
body.”
She sighed, shivered. “The best sex really is between the ears?”
“Like I said. The kind that’s worth having.”
“And you like what goes on in my head?”
More so that she could possibly imagine. Talking to her had given him
more pleasure than any exchange – physical or otherwise – he’d
had with a woman in awhile. He nodded, dropped his head close to her
shoulder, his mouth to her neck at the band of her shirt.
She moaned, tilted her head to the side as he nuzzled, giving him more
access and more reason to go on. “I’m not sure we have much
in common. I don’t know a thing about rodeo.”
“I can teach you.” He nibbled her skin, bathed the spot
with his tongue. She tasted like early morning mist and water clear and
pure.
She moved her hands from his belt loops to his waist, gathering the
fabric of his shirt in her fists. “What if I don’t really
care about rodeo?”
“I know enough for both of us.”
“It won’t work. My practice is in Houston.”
“You can commute.”
“It’s too far. And I love my condo.”
“I can commute.”
“No you can’t. You live and breathe this place.”
“Right now, I want to live and breathe you."
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