Heartstealer (Women of Character3 (25 page)

"Well, it would have been
worth it to be with you. I spent a pretty lousy night too, though at least I
was dry and warm."

Slowly, he began to smile.
"Next time I go out I'll make sure to let you know. How about I get
cleaned up, and we go to town for dinner?"

"Actually, I'd love to do
that, Sloan." She paused and ran her tongue over her lips. "Some
other time, though," she added with a slow, secret smile. She stepped away
from him and ran her fingers over the front of his shirt, circling the snaps
one by one. "How about I cook dinner?"

"Can you cook?" he asked,
his mouth dry as one of her fingertips traced a design on his skin.

"Some, not much. I know how to
use a can opener and the microwave."

"I'd love for you to cook for
me," he said.

"How hungry are you?"

He dropped his voice, seeing the
desire in her eyes, feeling it in his own body. "I'm starved."

"Me, too," she said.

He reached for her hand, recalling
with vivid clarity that first day they had met when she’d parachuted into
the ranch. He had offered her his hand then also.

"I need a shower and
change," he said.

"I’ll walk with
you."

Sloan savored the feeling of having
her hand trustingly in his. He sensed the rightness of hanging onto Jacie. He
couldn’t think right now if it would last longer than one night, but he
was willing to take a chance on them.

Unable to resist any longer, he put
his arms around her, his fingers splaying across the slim bones of her back.
"God! You feel good. I don’t want to let go."

"Then don’t," she
said simply.

He cupped her face with hands that
shook, his kiss slow and lingering. Her body felt on fire.

They left the barn just as the sun
was setting, the sky a fiery red burst across the mountains. It felt like a
whole new day.

Jacie entered Sloan’s home
ahead of him as he held open the door. She walked across the cool blue and gray
tiled entryway and let her feet sink into the plush carpet of the living area.
She stopped by the enormous fireplace that held center stage, potted flowering
plants on either side of the hearth. She turned to face him, and watched him
push the door closed with the heel of his hand. He carefully hung his hat on a
peg by the door and followed her.

She welcomed his hands as they
moved up her arms like liquid heat. She thought she would burn up, she felt so
wantonly hot.

"I knew you were trouble the
first minute I set eyes on you," she murmured.

"Funny, I had the same
premonition. I guess we were both right." He placed a provocatively short
kiss on her mouth and pulled back. "Give me ten minutes." He walked
toward one of the doors off the living room.

She looked around the spacious
living room, instantly liking the mellowed wood walls and floor. The kitchen,
with light green walls was located off the living room, and surprisingly large.
The stove, dishwasher and refrigerator were all a modern black color. Jacie
realized Sloan wasn’t kidding when he’d said he had a green thumb.
Flowers were everywhere.

"There’s something to
drink in the refrigerator," he called.

Jacie sank to the couch, finding it
incredibly comfortable. Resting her head against the back, she let her eyes
follow the whirring of a fan overhead. She tried to relax but she felt
incredibly keyed up. It seemed like she had been waiting for this moment
forever.

It seemed only a second later that
she felt lips gently upon her own. Nostrils quivering, she drew in a deep
breath, touching her cheek to Sloan’s newly shaven cheek. She smiled.
"I must have dozed off."

Pleasure jagged below her ribs, her
entire body tensed, a fire burned in her stomach. His shaving lotion rose to
her nostrils, spicy, orange scented.

She murmured his name and looped
her arms around his neck. As he drew closer, she cupped his shoulders and then
grazed her palms along his chest. Just touching him created a pulsing,
undeniable heat. "If I woke up like this all the time, I'd never
leave."

"We can arrange it," he
said, touching his lips to hers. He pulled her up and held her hand as he led
her across the room, down a hallway and into a bedroom. A large maple bed
occupied one side of the room with enormous windows beside the bed.

Jacie sat on the edge of the bed.
He dipped his head to her, his knee sinking into the mattress beside her leg.
"Are you sure, Jacie?" he asked huskily.

"Mmm. Don't ask questions."
Her lips trailed across his check, his neck, moved hungrily to his lips. There
was satisfaction in every line of her body as she pressed close. She craved his
attention, his touch. Heat roiled through her, her feverish desire reaching out
to him. It felt right, it had to be right.

Right now she faced one of the most
important challenges of her life. Loving Sloan.

His hands were on either side of
her face, one thumb caressing the corner of her mouth. His eyes were intense.
She loved their lightness, the sensual sweep across her face. She sensed he
liked what he saw.

She turned her head slightly,
caught his thumb between her teeth, gently nipped it and then kissed it. Her
hands came up, gathered his large hands between her own as she pushed him back
against the pillows. "I promise I won't hurt you," she mocked gently,
tenderly.

"You've relieved my
mind." His mouth caught hers in a rush, hard and crushing. She met him
ravenously, her hands pulling him even closer. She needed his warmth, the
hardness of him.

He rolled over, taking her with
him. Feverishly, she pulled his shirt apart, tugged it off his shoulders. It
slid unnoticed to the pale gray rug.

Palms down, she spread her fingers,
sweeping her hands over the hair on his chest, the pads of her fingers
smoothing up over his shoulders. Soap and aftershave whirled about her. Drugged
on his scent, she dipped her head, lips and tongue tracking a course across his
body.

His face looked hard, eyes
darkening as he watched her. She loved the feel of him. Gently, her lips roved
over the flat of his stomach, his chest, sliding upwards to his neck and
seeking the hollow behind his ear, his still-damp hair tickling her nose.

She kissed the curve of his jaw,
down along his neck, lips and tongue caressing his collarbone. The man was all
lean muscle. Her fingers splayed across his ribs, tracing a tiny scar,
playfully working across his skin.

She levered herself up, looking
down at him. "You're beautiful," she whispered tenderly, then laughed
shakily and shook her head. "I can't help it, I love touching you."

"Touch away," he rasped.
"But I get to do the same."

She pressed against him, her arm
resting across his stomach. She inhaled deeply, trying to catch her breath. She
felt as if she had run hard.

Her fingers rifled through his
hair. His hair was so fine, the light and dark strands sliding through her
fingers.

He turned onto his side to face
her, dislodging her arm. His fingers found the hem of her shirt, lifted it
upward, slowly, his eyes on her as warm palms moved along her ribs and up over
her breasts.

It became even more difficult to
breathe. Licking dry lips, she allowed him to pull the shirt off, felt his care
as he released her hair. She wore no bra, she was naked from the waist up, as
was he.

His mouth found her breasts,
teasing her. Restlessly, she churned against him. She wanted him crushed to
her.

His fingers worked along the soft
skin of her stomach, the slight hollow of her navel, then the button of her
jeans. His eyes met hers.

Her nod was slight, she could
manage nothing more. Her stomach quivered with small convulsions as he undid
the button, pulled the jeans down over her hips, leaving only her briefs in
place.

Work-hardened hands ran gently,
sensually over her legs, down her thighs to slim ankles. A large palm cupped
her heel and pulled the jeans entirely from her legs.

She stretched against the cool
sheets, an overall sensual ache sweeping to the core of her. The look in his
eyes made her feel like the most desirable woman alive.

She caught her breath as his lips
touched like a hot brand on the faint pinkish scar that ran along her neck. She
jerked her head back, moving to push him away. He forestalled her, catching her
nervously trembling hand as he dropped another kiss on the scar, gently,
carefully.

She placed a hand on either side of
his head and pulled him to her.

Their bodies did a slow, sensuous
dance, side by side.

"Sloan." She released his
name on a sigh.

"Come to me, Jacie." He
pulled her against him, imprinting her with every hard line.

She feared in that moment her heart
would burst from her chest, it beat so fast. His mouth trailed across her jaw,
caught her mouth, played with her lips, then followed the flush of pink across
her cheeks. She traced his lips with her tongue, darting at him.

Her hips moved, and she felt his
nakedness against her own, hardness touching softness. She ran an exploratory
palm down his chest, over the flat rigidity of his stomach, her curiosity
knowing no bounds.

Time skipped away, sensation took
over, melting all worry, making her live for the moment. Nothing mattered but
this man, her lover. She hurried him when he went slow, reacted to him,
wantonly begging, without words, for more.

He caught her closer, enveloping
her. She clutched fiercely at him, afraid she couldn't get enough of his heat.
Eagerly she took him in, giving back in equal measure.

Sloan held her tight, elation
gripping him. Wildly their flesh met, plunged, rose again. Sensation overcame
everything; the touch, taste and scent of Jacie was imprinted on his mind.
Excitement held them, flung them wildly, then shattered all around them.

"Sloan!" Her cry was
soft, breathless, her fingers gripping him fiercely. He held her close,
protecting, guiding her until she shook with the fever, then became boneless,
defenseless. Satiated.

His woman, he thought, pushing the
hair tenderly from her face. She had placed her trust in him and given him
everything, letting down her defenses.

He buried his lips deeply in her
throat and traced a path across her cheekbone, over lids blue-veined and
delicate.

He knew he had committed himself
big time, and he felt it was right. He and Jacie could make a life together.
They could combine their two worlds. There was always a way.

She snuggled down against him. He
kept his arm around her as she slept. He pushed her hair back with a
feather-light touch, watching her. He recalled his father telling him that
despite everything, he would never have given up knowing Sloan's mother. Now,
he understood what his father had meant. When you loved someone, it was really
that easy. Sloan knew he loved Jacie. When she woke, he would tell her.

Ω

Jacie walked into her cabin early
the next morning, her mind racing over the night she had spent with Sloan. It
occupied her thoughts to the extent of all else.

These past weeks she had learned
about Sloan the man, now she knew Sloan as a lover.

An ache began deep inside.

You should have stayed beside him
and woke him, the voice in her head chided. She had wakened earlier in Sloan's
arms. She had relished the closeness, the memory of their lovemaking, however,
part of her needed time to absorb the implications of such a step, so she had
slipped out before he woke. She wondered now if she had made a mistake.

She started as the telephone rang.
Disbelieving, she looked at her watch, wondering who would call at seven in the
morning.

"Hello?" She heard
rasping breaths, as if someone were out of breath.

"Jacie, you're there! I've
been trying to reach you all night. I'm sorry to bother you―"

"Bonnie! What is it?"

There was weeping on the other end
of the line. "Oh, Jacie, I lost my necklace when I was out there...out at
Timber Falls."

"Your necklace?"

"You remember, the one my
father gave me, it's a family heirloom, irreplaceable. After I left―I was
upset, you were so mad at me and I don't blame you. I stopped on the road just
outside the ranch at a small pull-off.

"I couldn't drive, I had to
collect myself. I got out to smoke a cigarette. I walked around for a bit and
that's the last time I remember having the necklace. That must be when I lost
it.

"Maybe it slipped the chain. I
haven't been able to find it anywhere. I'm frantic." She spoke so rapidly
Jacie had a hard time understanding her.

"Slow down, Bonnie."

"Our conversation had bothered
me so, I'm so sorry..."

A stirring of guilt gripped Jacie.
"All right, Bonnie, that doesn't matter now. Tell me where this place
is."

"After you leave the ranch,
there's a sign and a small pull-off. I'm sure that's where I must have lost
it."

"I think I know where
you’re talking about. Is it right by a big pasture and along the dirt
track?"

"Yes, yes. Oh, thank you,
Jacie. If I don't recover that, I'd never forgive myself. I heard it’s
supposed to rain and I’m afraid it’ll be lost forever. I’ll
drive back out."

Jacie sensed the relief in the
other woman's voice. "If I should find it, I can mail it to you.
That’s a long way to drive―"

"I couldn’t drive last
night. I got a motel room in a town about an hour away."

Jacie sighed inwardly. "Okay,
I’ll see you when you arrive."

Jacie hurried into the barn and
almost collided with Renee.

"Good morning, Jacie."

"Can I use one of the
horses?"

"They've all been fed, take
your pick."

"Thanks, Renee, it's going to
be a short ride."