Nevada Heat (20 page)

He paid no attention to the solid smack of the water against his chest and abdomen as he hit the pool stretched out. The cold water closed over him and he kicked his legs violently, sending himself at a rush toward the woman. Desperately his left arm coiled around Miranda's middle and flipped her over until her face was out of the water. Her hair streamed across her face and Jesse was sure he heard her gasp for air.

He didn't have time to rejoice, though. He wouldn't feel safe until he had her on dry land. His heart pounding in his chest, he kept on, grabbing at the water with his right hand, kicking his legs, and trying to hold on to a suddenly struggling Miranda.

Finally, at the steps, he put his feet down and pulled her close, pushing the long strands of hair away from her face. As he mumbled a frantic, long-forgotten prayer Jesse's fingers moved over her features anxiously. When he pushed the last of her hair aside, he stopped dead.

Miranda's eyes were wide open, staring at him with a furious intensity. “What are you doing?"

“What am I doing?" he shouted back, pleased to feel that his heart had started beating again. “I'm tryin' to save you from drownin', you damn fool woman!"

She pushed against his chest. Jesse released her at once and she dropped, bottom first, to the step below. She came up sputtering, shoving her hair out of her face. The cold water lapped at her belly, but she was much too angry to feel it. "Drowning? For heaven's sake! I wasn't drowning, I was floating! And I can take care of myself, thank you!"

Jesse rubbed his mouth fiercely. He stood just inches from a naked, luscious woman and all he could think was that he wanted to beat the living tar out of her! She liked to scared him to death. He glanced down at his feet and swore softly. She'd prob'ly even ruined his best boots, too.

His gaze lifted to her turquoise eyes. And did she even bother to thank him? Hell no! Well, by Harry, if she wanted to float, then he'd help her! Without any warning, he snatched her up in both his arms, turned, and tossed her into the pool. When she came up for air, he yelled, "Go ahead and float. But if you drown this time, I ain't gonna save you! You're on your own, woman!"

Miranda treaded water, her arms and legs moving lazily. Now that her initial shock and anger were over, she couldn't help wondering why he was there. He had to have followed her. She was fairly certain that only she and Birdwell knew about this well-hidden tank. A. reluctant smile curved her lips as she watched Jesse slog over to the closest step and plop down.

From his waist down, he was still in the water, but she guessed it didn't much matter. He was already thoroughly soaked.

Clearly disgusted, he crossed one leg over the other and tugged at his boot until he got it off. Slowly he tipped the black leather boot over and watched a stream of water run out. Miranda put her mouth underwater to muffle the chuckle she couldn't squelch. He pulled off the other boot and tossed it up on the rocks beside its mate. Only then did he turn back to Miranda.

"Durn boots're prob'ly ruined."

"Shouldn't have gotten them wet."

His brows shot up. “I thought you was drownin'."

“I'm sorry."

He shook his head, then pushed his sodden hair off his forehead. “Just what the hell were you doin', anyway?"

“Floating. Like I told you."

Jesse inhaled then exhaled sharply. "Why?"

“It almost feels like you're flying…. " She shrugged, feeling suddenly foolish.

His eyes narrowed as he stared at her. Slowly Jesse stood up and began to pull at the buttons on his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Miranda looked at him uneasily.

"Since I'm already wet," he said, tugging the wet shirt off his body, "thought I'd try it for myself."

She looked around frantically. Trying to look anywhere but at his chest. "But, Jesse… you, uh… shouldn't come in. Not now."

"Why not?"

Why not. Why does he think why not? Because she was naked! For heaven's sake. How had this all happened? All she'd wanted was a little swim.

The now familiar burning and tingling began deep within her and she fought against it, knowing that if she gave in now, there would be no turning back. Ever.

“Uh, Jesse," she said shakily, still moving her arms and legs, "before you come in, would you mind just handing me my clothes and turning your back for a moment or two?"

He took one step down further into the pool, letting the water level reach his abdomen. His hands, below the clear water, pulled at his trouser buttons.

Miranda pulled her gaze up immediately, but staring at his well-muscled chest, covered with a mat of curly black hair, was no easier. Unwillingly her eyes raked over his body, and as he bent down to pull his pants off, Miranda spun around, her back to him. Blood rushed to her cheeks and the sound of her own heartbeat almost drowned out Jesse's answer to her plea.

"Don't think that's a wise idea, M'randa," he said softly.

"Why…" She cleared her throat. “Why not?"

“Well, for one thing, I ain't got my pants on."

"Oh, Lord," she whispered, and blew a stream of bubbles into the water.

"So, if I go get you your clothes, why… you'd see me naked!" She heard what sounded like a chuckle, then he added, "Couldn't stand that, M'randa. Why, the shame'd prob'ly kill me."

"I promise not to look," she offered.

"Oh, I don't know… how can I trust a woman that won't look me in the eye when she's talkin' to me?"

Something warm and luscious spread through her veins and Miranda fought to slow it down. Every inch of her body felt as though it were on fire. The cold water had no effect on her anymore and she was only surprised that she couldn't see steam rising up around her. Jesse was teasing her, she knew. It was most likely an effort to pay her back for his "rescue" attempt.

But if facing him now was the only way she could get out of this situation, she would have to do it. She only hoped the flush in her cheeks had died away sufficiently that he wouldn't be able to see her embarrassment.

"All right, Jesse." She began a slow turn to face him. "Once I look you in the eye, you'll get me my clothes?"

“If that's what you want…" His voice seemed deeper.

She'd kept her eyes closed during her turn and now she took one long, deep breath to steel herself, then opened her eyes to meet his. Miranda sucked in her breath and knew she was lost.

He stood on the step, confident, proud. Hands on his hips, his dark brown eyes watching her, Jesse waited for her reaction. With the sun at his back, he was outlined in the brightest of lights. Her gaze moved over his broad shoulders, strong arms, brown, muscled chest, and narrow waist. Cautiously she followed the trail of black hairs down over the paler flesh of his belly to where it disappeared below the water.

“M'randa?”

“Hmmm?” She forced the sound out. The sight of him had made her mouth and throat dry.

“M'randa.”

She shook her head and looked up into his eyes. "What?"

"You want me to go get your clothes for ya?"

There it was. Her chance. He would climb out of the water, walked to the underhang, and get her clothes. Then he would turn around, she would get dressed, and then she would leave the pool. And him.

Somehow Miranda knew that if they walked away from this time together, it might never come again. And could she bear that?

The aching, trembling sensation coursing through her body grew until it throbbed in time with her pounding heart. Miranda parted her mouth slightly and ran her tongue over suddenly too dry lips. She saw his gaze narrow. Saw his chest rise and fall with the struggle to breathe evenly. Even his relaxed pose was just that. A pose. At his sides, Jesse's fists were clenched tightly and she knew that he felt the same aching need that she did.

She knew, too, that there would be no turning back for either of them.

“Is that what you want?" he asked again quietly.

She shook her head. “No, Jesse."

“What do you want, Miranda?"

Miranda's gaze held his for a long, silent moment. "I'm not… sure."

He took one step further into the pool. The muscles in his jaw twitched slightly before he asked again, “What do you want, Miranda?"

Miranda swallowed heavily. Her arms and legs were tired and she began to sink lower into the water. She knew what he wanted her to say. A deep, shuddering breath racked her body and she struggled to keep her voice steady.

"You, Jesse. I want you."

Chapter 12

He didn't smile.

He didn't speak.

He moved slowly into the water, and when he was deep enough, he pushed away from the rocks and swam toward her.

Miranda couldn't look away from his eyes. The shining green depths seemed to hold her captive. In them she read his desire, his need… and something else. Something she couldn't quite name. And then his arms snaked around her and all thought ended.

#

The moment he had her in his arms, Jesse released the breath he'd been holding. If she'd said no — if she'd refused him - he'd watched her eyes and though he'd seen the desire there, he'd also seen hesitation. And in the few moments it had taken for her to decide, he'd aged twenty years.

Cradling her head in the crook of his left arm, Jesse wrapped his right arm around her waist and pressed her close. Together their legs moved slowly, languorously, just enough to keep them afloat while at the same time rubbing and stroking each other's flesh.

He looked down into her face and felt his heart race. Her eyes closed, a half smile on her lips, she ran one hand down his naked back, her short nails dragging a tender trail over his skin. Jesse's gaze dipped lower, following the line of her throat, smoothing over the pale gold vee of skin where her shirt always lay open to the sun. Her pale, ivory breasts pressed against his bronzed chest and he slowly, deliberately moved her body back and forth, creating small sparks of delight that shuddered over both of them.

Her eyes opened and he read her pleasure in the soft turquoise gaze she fixed on him. The cold water lapping around them gently, Jesse lowered his head and traced kisses across her brow, down over her temple, and along her jaw. When his lips finally claimed hers, she parted her mouth to him, welcoming his tongue with an eagerness he'd dreamed of.

He felt her hands on his body. His back and chest. His arms and shoulders. Frantic touching as though she was afraid he might disappear. And Miranda's excitement fed the flames of the fire building inside him.

With a muffled groan, Jesse locked his body around hers and allowed the cold water to swallow them. Spiraling together, they drifted for a few seconds of eternity, their tongues and hands alive with the need to touch and be touched. Jesse opened his eyes briefly, and in the clear water he saw Miranda's long hair billowing out around them like a protective cloud of darkness.

Then suddenly, with quick, determined strokes, his powerful legs propelled them to the surface. Miranda took a deep gulp of the warm air and smiled at him as she wound her arms around his shoulders. Flipping over onto his back, Jesse swam for the rocky edge of the pool, with Miranda lying full length atop him. When he reached the bank, he stood up, helping Miranda to her feet.

Her gaze swept over him and Jesse waited, sure that the sight of him, fully aroused, would make her hesitate again. Maybe even frighten her.

He needn't have worried.

She took a step closer and pressed herself against him, her arms around his neck. Looking up into his eyes, she said softly, “You, Jesse. I want you.”

Jesse groaned, bent down, and scooped her off her feet. Hurriedly he stepped out of the pool and crossed the few feet of space to the overhang. As he walked his fingers moved over her flesh as if reassuring himself that she was really there with him.

The basket lay where she'd left it when she'd arrived. Right on top was an old quilt. He looked from the blanket to her and grinned. "Now that was thoughtful."

"I sometimes take a nap after a swim," she said, a soft smile on her face.

“And maybe we will." He snatched the quilt with one hand and deftly shook it, still managing to hold on to Miranda tightly. "Later."

No sooner had the blanket hit the ground than Jesse laid her down atop it, smoothing out the edges of the frayed, flowered quilt with his free hand. He reached for her shirt, balled it up, and put it beneath her head, then cupped her cheek gently. His thumb moved lazily over the curve of her eyebrow. He couldn't stop looking at her. Her eyes, her hair, the feel of her skin, the sound of her voice, he needed to have all of her. To touch her so deeply that separation would be impossible. To be a part of her.

He bent his head and kissed her lips, gently at first. A featherlight brush against the softness of her mouth. His tongue traced the outline of her lips while his hand smoothed over her breasts, each in turn. Her nipples sprang into life under his palm and she shivered as she tried to deepen their kiss. But Jesse wasn't to be hurried. He'd waited too long. Thought about this too often. Prayed too hard.