Heartstealer (Women of Character3 (21 page)

His words reminded her of the time
he had caught her near naked at the pool. A spark of awareness snapped through
her.

"I can't imagine you making an
indecent proposal," she said, laughing. "You'd just come out and say
what you had to say, like it or not." She looked down at her extra-long
shirt, then let the sparkle of the water draw her attention.

"Maybe I will," she
mused. "I'm not one to let a swim pass me by." She moved to the
water’s edge and dipped her fingers into the cool depths.

"I'm going to get the horses
more water. I'll be right back," he said.

"I'll help." She moved to
follow him.

"No, you go ahead. It'll just
take a few minutes." As she watched, he pulled his shirt over his head and
let it drop to the grass.

She understood his ploy or thought
she did. He was giving her time to get in the water. Determinedly turning away
from the sight of his long, tanned back, she pulled her jeans off and walked
toward the water once more. Her shirt more than adequately covered her, and her
underwear was more or less like a bathing suit.

Bypassing the small dock, she ran
into the water and then dove. As she tread water her legs stirred cooler
undercurrents. Catching her breath, she swiped the water from her face. She
swam on her back, closing her eyes against the sun, floating and just relaxing.
She even lost track of time she felt so relaxed, until like a great sea beast,
Sloan rose up beside her. She squealed in surprise. Water ran down his face and
across his chest. He pushed his hair back, a grin playing about his mouth.
"Sorry."

"Uh-huh." She splashed
water at him, twisted and dove away, but he caught her by the waist, lifting
her from the water.

"Sloan!"

He held her above the water, one
hand at her waist, the other under one leg. "Say you're sorry."

"No way." For a brief,
still moment, she looked at him, her eyes taking in the water-spiked lashes.
They were long and dark, his eyes an intense, serious blue.

He grinned wolfishly.

She groaned.

He dropped her in the water.

Spluttering, she surfaced.
"You've got an unfair advantage! I can't touch bottom."

One dark brow rose and his mouth
widened in amusement. "Then by all means, let's move to shallow
water."

She swam away from him, stopping
when the water was just below her breasts.

"Do you feel you have the
advantage now?" he queried drolly, apparently willing to humor her.

"Almost. We have to make an
adjustment," she said seriously, eyeing him.

Her eyes skimmed across his chest.
Grinning, she refocused her attention on his face.

"A catch?" he asked
mockingly.

"No, but because of your
height and weight, we should make it equal." She squinted at him.
"What do you say, are you up to making the odds equal?"

He began to look wary.

"Not backing out, are
you?" she taunted.

"Do your worst. I'm all
yours," he intoned softly, bracing his feet.

She prudently chose to take his
words at face value. "If you want to even the odds, close your eyes."

She saw his momentary surprise, but
he complied.

She stared at him for a fraction of
a second, a mischievous smile curling her lips. "I have to make one
adjustment," she said. Lightly, she touched her lips to his.
"There," she said with satisfaction, "that's better."

She pushed his shoulder with hers
and saw him smile. She pushed it again, harder. He leaned his upper torso
toward her. She smiled in satisfaction. He probably thought she was going to
body slam him or something.

"Ready?" she asked
softly.

This time when she hit her shoulder
into his and he braced himself toward her, she hooked her foot around his ankle
and jerked him off balance, at the same time pushing his chest with both hands.
He put a hand out in an attempt to steady himself, and with the other hand
reached toward her. His eyes flew open.

She arched her body backwards, out
of his immediate reach. "Sucker," she called out laughingly.

He regained his feet easily,
slicking his hair back, a certain glint in his eyes.

"Fair play!" she cried,
one hand out as she half-swam, half-walked backwards.

"You play dirty," he
said, coming after her.

"Yeah, but it only works
once." She lunged toward shore, her heart beating fast, expecting him to
grab her at any moment. The anticipation of his touch was more than she could
stand. On the other hand, she desperately wanted that touch.

As she ran to the pond's edge she
was aware of her T-shirt clinging and wet. When she turned, expecting him to
pounce, she saw him still out in the water. He dove and swam further out.
Feeling a measure of disappointment, she dropped to the warm grass and squeezed
the excess water from her shirt, then lay on her towel in the sun. By the time
he joined her she was almost entirely dry.

Sitting up, she opened the basket
and offered him a sandwich.

"So tell me where you learned
that little trick?" he drawled, taking a bite. Deliberately, he shook one
arm over her and cool droplets of water hit her legs.

Shading her eyes, she let her
glance skim over wide brown shoulders and narrow waist, down long, hair-dusted
legs. Leisurely, she pulled some of the roast beef out of her sandwich and
popped it in her mouth, then licked her fingers delicately. "If you recall
I have four brothers."

"I'm surprised they didn't
teach you an even more foul way to get even."

She grinned innocently. "Oh,
they did, but I only use that on special occasions."

He shook his head. "I've been
forewarned." He ate the remainder of his sandwich and moved closer. His
body blocked out the sun as he leaned over her. "You never cease to
surprise me, Jacie." A dark wing of hair fell across his forehead. Her
fingers itched to touch it.

"I do what I can." She
allowed her glance to skim the fine shadowing of beard along his jaw.

His cool mouth grazed her cheek,
then the corner of her mouth. Heat infused her body and her stomach muscles
contracted. She put her sandwich down on the wrapper and lifted her mouth to
his. Gently, she touched her tongue to his bottom lip, and was rewarded with
his groan.

Sloan gently pushed her back to the
towel. His hands were on either side of her, yet only his lips touched her. She
wanted to change that. She wound her fingers through his damp hair, enjoying
its silkiness, her fingers tracing down the back of his skull. She arched her
body up toward him, then away. His skin felt so cool compared to her sun-heated
flesh.

He followed her down, heat burning
wherever they touched. She wound her arms around him, her palms stroking slowly
along his back. Their kisses became less restrained. She wanted to feel the
slide of his skin against her. God! He went to her head, made her punch drunk,
in serious danger of losing control. Losing herself.

She suddenly tensed, a niggling
doubt creeping in.

Their eyes were mere inches apart.
His voice came out gritty. "We're not teenagers. Unless we want to take
this one step further..." his voice trailed off, but she understood his
meaning.

Oh God, she thought, I'm
intoxicated. Intoxicated on Sloan. Right now she didn't care if she ever
sobered up, but did she want to take that irrevocable step? It would change
both of their lives forever. She closed her eyes, trying to get her bearings.
In the momentary hesitation he pulled away.

She felt her limbs tremble as the
heat of moments ago drained down to her toes. She jumped to her feet and he put
out a quick hand to steady her.

She smiled brightly, moving away
from him. "I think you're right, neither one of us wants an involvement.
It's physical attraction, that's all."

"We're adults," he
muttered, "we know how to handle that."

She looked at him blankly and
quickly nodded, anything to end this moment. "If we're going back, I'll
get dressed."

"I think it's best. We have a
good ride back and the sun will be going down soon," he murmured,
frowning.

Moving away before she weakened and
threw herself on him, she hurriedly pulled on her clothes, intensely conscious
of the tremble of her fingers.

She thought fast. To her way of
thinking she had reached the end of the line. She had two choices. Either she
walked away or she went to him wholeheartedly, no restrictions. Both choices
scared the hell out of her. Why would this choice scare her, she wondered
frantically...she jumped out of planes, she was fearless, right? Wrong. He made
her lose control. With the sexual haze still gripping her, she didn't want to
think of tomorrow or the day after, but she'd been gullible before.

Straightening her shoulders, she
knew she couldn't open herself to that vulnerability again, not without a lot
of thought. Something deep inside her knew Sloan could hurt her worse than Brad
ever had, just because the depth of emotion went much deeper.

It didn’t take long to saddle
the horses. At the top of the rise, Jacie cast a last look at the pond. She let
her glance fall on Sloan, all too aware of the wistfulness in her heart.

Sloan was aware of Jacie, painfully
so. He had called a halt down by the pond before it was too late, not that he
had wanted to. He’d wanted her so bad he could taste it. He still ached
with it.

He knew it was a risk, caring about
a woman like Jacie. She was independent and strong, a woman with her own life.

He wondered if she would be happy
here, if she even wanted to stay. Maybe this was just a summer thing for her.
God knows a summer affair wasn't what he wanted. He was at a stage in his life
he needed permanency and eventually a family. Maybe she was still testing the
waters.

From all she had told him of her
life, he figured a person like Jacie liked to move around. His mother had
flitted in and out of his life for eight years, like a big sister or aunt. He
didn't think he could live like that; he didn't want a wife that wasn't around.
That kind of relationship would kill him. Damn! He was well and truly stuck
between a rock and a hard place, and well aware he had put himself there.

Later that evening Jacie heard
music drifting from the lodge. She leaned an elbow on the back deck rail,
staring at the last rays of light as the sun was pulled back down the mountain.
Very quickly, darkness fell. Another day ending at Timber Falls. Her stay was
almost half over. At the end of the month she would be leaving.

The timed light on her deck
flickered and came on, bathing her in an eerie purplish white glow.

Jacie couldn't get Sloan out of her
thoughts.

The music stopped. The parking lot
was crowded with cars tonight. She lifted her face to the breeze, warm and cool
at the same time. That's what she felt like, she mused, hot one moment, cold
the next.

Where did she stand with Sloan? Did
she want to run scared, something she had never done or find out where a
relationship could lead between them? God knows she wanted to trust him and
herself, but she felt so muddled with emotion.

She walked around the front of her
cabin, stopping as she reached the graveled drive. For a moment, she was
startled to see a man’s silhouette. For just one second, she thought it was
Brad. She blinked, he moved and the light overhead shone on his face.

Sloan.

Her heart pounded and her palms
began to sweat. She licked her lips as she walked toward him.

"Jacie." Her name on his
lips was a sensuous stroke across skin. She trembled, shuddering as if his hand
had caressed her.

"So tell me," he said
conversationally, "who is he?"

"Who?" She stopped in her
tracks.

"The guy who's ripping at your
insides," he muttered. "The one who's keeping you from me. Stop
running."

It's you who's ripping at my
insides, destroying my hard-won peace of mind. "I don't run away,"
she breathed anxiously, her fingers curling.

He moved closer. "The hell you
don't." His eyes were a dark gleam as if he searched out the pain.
"I’m wondering if you look at me and see someone else."

"It's not something you feel
every day," she muttered defensively, turning aside. "This thing
between us is pretty unsettling."

Hard fingers trailed against her
cheek, pulling her chin around, but ever so gently. If he had been demanding,
she would have resisted. As it was, there was no resistance, just bone-melting
heat, until she met his eyes once more, then it was worse. The grimness on his
face, those hard lips...her remembrance of their gentle touch―she was
lost, her stomach protesting his nearness with a quivering of feeling, a
sensuous, all-over ache. It was almost a physical hurt, the wanting.

"What is it you want from
me?" She couldn’t contain the question.

"I'm just a simple
cowboy." He looped his arms around her waist. "I think you know what
you want, Jacie, but you won't admit it. I get the feeling every now and then
I'm getting closer, then you back up two steps."

"Maybe I want to be normal
like the rest of the world."

"What's normal?" He
laughed.

She nodded in agreement as one of
his hands reached for hers, his fingertips sliding slowly, sensuously along her
palm before taking firm possession.

He brought her one hand up to his
shoulder and then reached for her other hand, gently urging her closer to the
hardness of him.

"Sloan, I don't
think―"

"That's right, don't
think," he said, ever so gently.

Self-preservation held her frozen
as she looked into his eyes, so deep and compelling in the dim lighting.

Her nostrils twitched. She could
smell his aftershave. It was subtle, weaving around her, coming into her mouth
with each shaky breath.