Always (3 page)

      A delicious memory streaked to the forefront of her addled brain, igniting a slow burn through her veins. She saw Gordon as he'd looked more than ten years ago, kissing her, wanting her, baring her virginal flesh to his equally innocent touch....

      How she'd wanted him.

      A series of images from that long hot summer between their junior and senior years in high school flashed through her mind–picnics, fishing, hiking, swimming, making out behind the waterfall farther up the mountain, and the back seat of his Jeep....

      They'd lost their innocence together. He'd been so tender, so passionate, so...Gordon.
 

      The sudden tightening low in her middle jerked her back to the present. She couldn't want him now–not after what he'd done to her. To
them.

      She
wouldn't
want him now. Their relationship was history–a closed chapter in her life. Memories were sweet but dangerous. They made her vulnerable to the pain–a luxury she couldn't afford. Moistening her lips, she searched his face, wondering if he remembered, too.

      He winced as he pushed himself forward.
 

      "You
are
hurt." She took another step toward him. "Is it your back? That was a nasty fall."

      "Oh, yeah, I fell. Trust me, you don't want to know about my injuries."

      "I think an x–"

      "Not necessary." Chuckling, he stood in one smooth movement and wavered only slightly before collecting himself. "See? I'm fine."

      Max woofed again. "Is that Max?" she asked in disbelief. "He must be at least twelve by now."

      "Thirteen."

      Gordon stood so close she could
feel
him, though she didn't dare lower her gaze. But an insistent voice from some twisted part of her psyche wanted to.

      Badly.

      Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek and tilted her head back slightly to meet his gaze. Gorgeous eyes, nice tan, long silver hair, and a tall muscular build–the kind of man women fantasized about.

      She ought to know.

      He was a grinning, bronze god, no longer the acne-prone teenager she'd once loved with all the youthful exuberance she could muster. Or the boy who'd promised his undying love, then broken her fragile young heart.

      "Look, Ma, no hands," he said quietly, continuing to hold her gaze.
 

      Something flickered in the depths of his eyes that momentarily stole her breath. His stare was penetrating, questioning, all-encompassing.
 

      
He remembers, too
. Jerking herself back to reality, she watched him for any hint of instability. "You
did
fall, didn't you?"

      "Yeah, sorta, but I definitely had motivation." He looked down at himself. "The water seems to have helped, though."

      Without thinking, Taylor followed the direction of his gaze. Wet, clinging boxer shorts–white, of course–left little to the imagination. In addition to his rather impressive physique, angry red welts covered his lower abdomen, inner thighs, and, she suspected, other more intimate areas. "You're..."

      "Stung," he finished, flashing her another crooked grin when she looked up at his face again.
 

      "Stung," she repeated stupidly, ignoring the voice of feminist reason that told her she should be offended by her own inability to put two coherent words together. Actually, magnificent had been the word floating around in her stunned gray matter.
 

      Little Gordon Lane had matured
nicely.

      Volcanic activity was a mild description of the inferno that suddenly crept over her. Still, curiosity battled embarrassment and won. "What happened?"

      He shrugged. "Ants in my pants." He gestured toward the bank. "Like a fool, I left them on the ground while I went swimming, and wonder dog here never even growled while they invaded."

      "I see." She saw all right–and remembered. Skinny-dipping had been one of their favorite pastimes. Swimming in the buff had been incredibly erotic foreplay. Her memory was too good. Excellent, as a matter of fact.

      Forcing her thoughts back into focus, Taylor roused herself and reached behind him for her medical bag. The icy water had numbed her feet and her sandals were ruined. "Well, since you don't want to take my advice and–"

      "Nope."

      He might as well have said, "Case closed–end of discussion."

      He stepped around her, brushing against her arm. The feel of his water-chilled skin seeped through her sweater and straight to her libido.
Good morning, hormones
. Knowing he wore almost nothing didn't help matters any.
 

      A splashing sound prompted Taylor to look over her shoulder. He was bent over, splashing water onto his abdomen and thighs, oblivious–or indifferent–to the imposing spectacle he presented.

      Men's backsides had never commanded her attention before, but now she had to wonder
why
. Lowering her sunglasses, she peered over the rims, then pushed them back into place. Through the thin wet cotton, well-defined muscles rippled along the backs of his thighs and into his buttocks. He was fine. Better than fine, in fact.
 

      Despite her earlier embarrassment, Taylor couldn't prevent the hungry rush that surged through her again. She was a healthy, twenty-eight-year-old woman, after all, and it had been a long,
long
time. Through medical school and residency, her love life had been practically non-existent. Except for Jeremy.

      Gordon looked well-equipped to satisfy her hunger, but she had other more pressing matters to consider. Perhaps less appealing, but infinitely more important. Besides, he'd hurt her in the worst possible way. That knowledge stood between her and anything her libido might have in mind.

      Brokenhearted, Taylor had told her mother the whole story of Gordon's betrayal. Since her parents were preparing to retire and move to Florida, they decided to send Taylor on ahead to stay with her aunt. Unable to face Gordon, Taylor had made her parents promise not to tell him where she'd gone.

      Now she'd come full circle.

      Did Gordon know that she knew? Surely he'd realized the reason for her sudden departure.

      Dragging in a deep breath, she forced her memories at bay. For now. Later, when she was alone, she knew those memories would return with a vengeance. Well, she'd just have to deal with them.
 

      But first and foremost, she had an obligation to the citizens of Digby. She winced, pushing back the disappointment that again threatened her resolve.
 

      She should be at a large hospital conducting research, not standing in a frigid mountain stream. Sighing, she reminded herself that if not for Digby's financial assistance, she wouldn't have been able to finish medical school at all.

      "Enjoying the view?" He straightened and turned to face her in one fluid movement.

      Taylor pressed her lips together and purposefully allowed her gaze to travel the length of him. Of course, at this point she knew the chances of embarrassing him were nil, but she had to fight back somehow. "Actually, I have better things to do."
In my dreams
. She met his gaze and took a step toward the bank. "Since you won't go to the hospital, at least let me help you back to your cabin."

      He cocked an eyebrow and gave her a nod. "Anybody ever call you stubborn as hell?"

      "Yeah, you."
 

      He sobered and she knew he was as plagued with memories as she.
Good
. At least there was some justice in the world.

      "Well, since we're both heading the same direction anyway, I suppose there's nothing wrong with letting you come along." He flashed another grin, and Max barked again.

      "Fine." She waded from the stream and started up the steep trail, her sodden sandals making loud squishing sounds. Only the bright sunshine kept her from freezing. This was her first day back in Digby and she hadn't even found the town yet. Oh, yeah, she was really on a roll.
 

      "By the way, thanks," he said so quietly she almost missed it.

      His gratitude surprised her. She should hate him, and she was more than a little surprised to discover she didn't. Well, maturity helped some, she decided.
 

      Right now, the only way out of this mess was to joke her way out of it. It obviously worked as a defense mechanism for him, so why not her?
 

      Pausing on the trail, she smiled to herself. She shouldn't, but she couldn't resist looking over her shoulder and flashing him what she hoped was her most lascivious smile. "I'm sorry, what did you say a while ago?"

      He glanced back over his shoulder, a puzzled expression creasing his brow. "Thank you?"

      "Ah, that's right." She waggled her eyebrows and allowed her gaze to drift down the length of him. "No. Thank
you
."

      He laughed, a rich vibrant sound that filled the forest and warmed her soul. He'd changed so much–in all the right places–but he was still Gordon.

        
His laughter ended abruptly and Taylor dragged her gaze from his awe-inspiring body up to his face. Her fond memories were destroying what remained of her self-control.

      His expression said, "If you want it, here it is."

      Her body answered from somewhere deep in her core–silently, thank goodness–"Give it to me. Now."

      Her gaze dropped again, maddeningly. The ants obviously hadn't inflicted any serious damage. Even through his wet shorts, his arousal was blatant. Impressive.

      Compelling.

      Taylor swallowed hard, and turned to make her way back up the hill, acutely aware that he and Max followed only a few feet behind. Remembering the sight of him bent over in the stream, a wicked smile tugged at her lips.

      She should've let him go first.
 

*
 
*
 
*

      Taylor had come home.

      Unbelievable but true. Gordon watched the enticing sway of her hips as she climbed the hill in front of him.
Oh, yeah–it's Taylor all right.

      Why was she here? And, more importantly, why the hell did it matter?

      Remembering the last time he'd seen her, he clenched his teeth to silence the string of profanities that filled his mind. She'd walked away from him–from them.
 

      Though she'd sworn to love him forever, she'd cast their love aside without a second thought. Why? Because she hadn't trusted him.

      
Old news, Lane.
 

      He glanced down warily at his still-damp boxer shorts. If not for his uninvited guest, he would've removed the shorts...just in case. So far, no more bites. His icy extermination had been thorough.

      His head throbbed; the ant bites itched and stung. Yes, he needed a little first aid, but he was more than capable of tending his own wounds. His days of playing doctor with Taylor Bowen were long past.

      
Taylor
. Why did his angel of mercy have to be the one woman who'd broken his heart? All right, so they'd been teenagers at the time, but that didn't make the memory any less painful.

      "A bear!"

      Her shout shattered the morning calm as they reached the top of the hill in front of his cabin. In his near-naked splendor, Gordon charged into the clearing and stopped short when he saw the cause of her terror–dozens of huge bear prints.

      Max stopped and whimpered.

      "Some watch dog you are."

      Normally, Gordon would consider Taylor's reaction ridiculous, but he remembered that at the ripe old age of ten, she'd spent several terrified hours cornered by a wounded bear. Her fear was perfectly understandable.

      "Damn." He released a long sigh and looked toward her car. "Ah, my towel."

      Taylor backed against a tree and dropped her leather bag; her sunglasses fell unheeded to the ground.
 

      Hoping to reassure her, Gordon allowed himself a small smile. "At least he always returns them. I'd be out a fortune in towels if he didn't."

      "A b-bear?"

      Gordon glanced at her from the corner of his eye. All color had drained from her face and her eyes were huge as she stared at her car. Max sidled up alongside and looked up at her adoringly.

      "The bear's gone now. Besides, he won't hurt you."
I hope
. With a disgusted groan, Gordon walked to her car and retrieved his formerly white towel.
 

      "See, that old bear never lets anyone see him, so he's harmless," he repeated steadily, returning to stand beside her.
 

      When he looked at Taylor again, her eyes grew even larger, though she didn't move or utter a sound. Gordon was pretty sure breathing wasn't high on her current list of priorities either. Max whimpered.