What a Man Needs (11 page)

“Oh,” she managed, right before his mouth silenced her. Things were looking up. His tongue swept inside before she could think. But she didn't want to think, only feel. His hands slid down her sides, inch by inch, molding her to him.

She whimpered when his mouth left hers. His gaze locked with hers, relaying his need. He swung her up into his arms and carried her into the stall where they stored bales of hay. “Ever heard the term
a roll in the hay?
”

 

“What is this NoWait stuff?” Patrick picked the bottle off her dresser the next morning. He'd
begun to read the label when Cyndi snatched it away.

“I can't go giving away all my secrets,” she told him. They might be sleeping together these past few days, but she wasn't about to confess all her insecurities. “What's my guarantee that you won't sell the info to the tabloids?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Like that's going to happen.” He leaned against the doorjamb, fresh from the shower, wearing a pair of jeans and nothing else. Every girl's fantasy—a near-naked, sexy man in her bedroom.

He came to her. “You don't need anything to enhance your beauty.” Those powerful blue eyes searched her face. “I happen to like the natural look.” He nodded to the bottle. “What is it? Some miracle oil to take off ten years?”

She felt helpless not to tell him the truth. “Ten pounds,” she finally confessed. “It's to help take off ten pounds. That's what the camera adds to my body.”

He frowned, then tossed her a slightly crooked grin. “You've got to be kidding. Your body is perfect.” His gaze traveled over her, and his hands cupped her breasts through the T-shirt she'd confiscated from him. “See, they fit perfectly.” His eyes darkened as his fingers skimmed downward
over her stomach. The sensation caused her to suck in a breath as goose bumps rose on her skin. He didn't stop his torturous journey, continuing over her hips, then he splayed his fingers, digging into her flesh, drawing her against his hard body.

She gasped.

“See? We fit perfectly.” His head dipped and feasted on her mouth. By the time he ended the kiss, they were both breathing hard.

“I haven't been using it lately,” she confessed.

“Using what?” His mouth caressed hers.

“NoWait.” She couldn't believe the things he was doing to her. “I haven't been exercising, either.”

“Now, I wouldn't say that. We had a pretty good workout last night.” He teased her lower lip with his tongue. “And this morning.” He deepened the kiss, causing her desire to heighten. With a groan, he released her. “And if I don't show up this morning, Forest will come after me.”

He grabbed his shirt off the dresser and slipped it on. After buttoning it, he tucked it into his jeans.

He walked back to her. “You better never play poker, sweetheart. You're too easy to read. And if I wasn't expecting a mare to arrive in about fifteen minutes, I'd give you just what you're asking for with those incredible brown eyes.” His gaze inten
sified as he hugged her to him. “Damn if I don't want you again.”

“Well, we seem to have a lot in common, because I want you, too.” She kissed him.

He finally let her go. “Take your time getting ready. I won't be finished for at least an hour. We'll go riding then.” He sent her a wink and walked out the door.

Cynthia sank onto the mattress and tried to clear her head. She had come here to learn to ride, and she had, but in less than forty-eight hours she'd be going back to L.A. for the audition.

To read for the movie role of a lifetime.

She glanced at the script on the table beside the bed. It didn't seem as important as it once had, before she'd taken the time to find that life had other things to offer, like a man to love.

 

Patrick finally got Bert Nichols to go home. It had taken him over an hour to assure the man that his mare would be just fine and well cared for while here. He understood Bert's concern, but Patrick found it difficult to be patient when all he could think about was spending time with Cyndi.

He glanced at the house. Was she going to come down and ride? There was only today and tomorrow left. Then she'd be gone. His chest
tightened. He knew it was for the best. Even though their time together had been near-perfect. No, it had been perfect. The days…their nights together. His body stirred, but he quickly shook away the feeling. No, it had to end. It was nearly time to move on.

Cyndi would go on location with her movie. He'd stay here and work the ranch, build his vineyard. That was exactly how he wanted it.

“Hey, Pat.”

Patrick turned to see Forest coming out to the corral. “What is it?”

“Are you going to be around today?”

“I'm taking Cyndi riding, but we should be close by. Why?”

The foreman shrugged. “Thought we'd planned to move the herd today. Kevin's available this afternoon. The three of us could get it done in a few hours.”

Patrick really didn't want to take the time today. “Wouldn't hurt to put it off a few days. Why don't you just go and check out the situation?”

“I could.” Forest smiled. “So you want to spend as much time as possible with Cyndi. Can't say I blame you.”

As close as he and Forest were, Patrick thought he'd managed to hide a lot from his friend. He
should've known better. “She wants to fine-tune some things.”

Forest winked. “So that's what you call it.” He raised a hand. “Hey, it's okay. Those Reynolds sisters are special. Sexy, intelligent, sexy and funny and beautiful. Did I mention sexy?”

Patrick laughed. “Yes, you did.”

His friend sobered. “Cyndi makes you happy. For that, she's pretty special in my book.”

“And in two days, she'll be gone.”

“But not forgotten,” Forest finished for him.

That was the problem. It would take him a long time to forget Cynthia Reynolds. Maybe he never would.

He was brought back to reality when he heard Cyndi call out his name. She was standing at the edge of the corral, dressed in jeans and a blue blouse with that long red hair glistening in the sunlight.

As he had been able to do so many times, Patrick pushed aside his feelings and went to greet her. No, he wasn't going to brood about something that couldn't be changed.

“Hi,” she said. Her hands slipped into the back pockets of her jeans. “You want me to saddle Daisy?”

“No.” He couldn't resist any longer. He lifted
her in his arms and kissed her thoroughly. When he set her back down, she looked dazed.

“That was…a nice greeting.” She looked over his shoulder at Forest. “Aren't we going to ride today?”

He nodded. “Yes, but I thought we'd try something different.” He guided her to the barn and Ace's stall. He got a bridle and slipped it on the horse, then walked him out to the corral.

“You've only ridden Daisy. That might not be a good thing because when you start the movie, you'll have to ride another horse anyway. So I thought we'd try you on Ace, who's a little more spirited.”

Cynthia was nervous. Ace was bigger than Daisy and he was a stallion. But she trusted Patrick. The man wouldn't let anything happen to her.

“Do you want me to get his saddle?” She started off toward the barn.

“No. I thought we'd go without.”

“Bareback?”

“Yeah, it's fun. You can do it.”

She loved his confidence. “Okay, what do I do?”

He gave her the reins and showed her how to grip Ace's mane. “I'll give you a boost up.” He
bent over and laced his fingers together. She placed her booted foot there and easily was lifted up onto the horse.

When Ace shifted under her, she automatically tugged the reins to bring him back. It was strange to feel the warmth of the animal through her jeans. Then Patrick grabbed a handful of the mane and swung up behind her.

“Just pretend I'm not here,” he said as his hard body pushed against hers, sending a warm shiver through her.

She glanced over her shoulder to catch his grin. “Like that's going to happen.”

“Are you saying I'm bothering you?” His arms circled her waist and brought her closer to him.

She wasn't able to concentrate on the horse. “You're a little distracting.”

“Woman, you've been distracting me since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Cynthia smiled as Patrick called to Forest to open the gate and she directed the horse out to the pasture.

She was enjoying the easy stride, feeling every movement of the horse. “Where are we going to go?”

“That's up to you. Anywhere you want. Ace can handle our weight if we don't run him for long.”

“I don't think I'm ready to run him at all.” She directed the horse to the trail that led to the line shack. For whatever reason, she liked to think about Patrick being there. It seemed like his haven. Maybe she just wanted to create some more memories for him. Good memories that would take away the sadness from his eyes. The sadness that he'd covered with anger to keep people at a distance.

She would give anything to break through that barrier and let her love him.

T
ime was running out for them, but Cynthia refused to think about that right now. Their last few days together had been too perfect and too fragile to bring up anything about a future.

Cynthia had to accept the present for what it was. During their short ride to the cabin, she enjoyed Patrick's playfulness, his touches, caresses and sexy talk. Neither of them brought up her upcoming departure.

By the time they reached the line shack, Cynthia had no doubt that they'd make love. If she
couldn't share his life, she wanted to leave something of herself in a place that was so special to him. She hoped that whenever Patrick came here, he would think of her.

Within seconds of the door closing, they stripped off their clothes. Then Patrick unrolled the mattress on the bottom bunk, spread a blanket, and before he had her on her back, she was in his arms. A giving lover, he made the outside go away. Nothing else existed but his urgent need. His wild mouth and wicked hands coaxed her to behave like a woman very unlike Cynthia Reynolds, to do things she would never do with anyone but Patrick.

When he pulled her beneath him, she saw the depth of desire in his blue eyes, saw the controlled strain on his face. She met his first thrust, wrapped her legs around him, trying to take him deeper and deeper into her soul. He whispered something about how sweet and sexy she was as he began to build the rhythm, increasing her pleasure. Her breathing grew rapid as she climbed higher, then a cry erupted from her throat as she flew apart. A rough sound exploded from Patrick as he joined her journey. Together they soared.

Afterward, Cynthia lay curled up in Patrick's arms. She couldn't seem to stop the tears. Her emotions were crazy. She knew without a doubt that
she'd never loved anyone the way she loved Patrick.

His arms tightened around her. “What's wrong?”

She quickly wiped away the tears. “Nothing.”

He raised up and looked at her. “Did I hurt you? Was I too rough?”

She took his hand and brought it to her lips. “No, you were perfect. It's just that sometimes afterwards the emotions…just overflow.”

His sapphire gaze searched her face. Then he placed his fingers along her cheek. “I never want to hurt you.”

She covered his hand. “I know that, Patrick.” But he would, when he let her walk away. She placed a kiss on his lips, wanting to be close to him, to shut out the rest of the world for a little while longer. It would invade soon enough. The kiss deepened and his hands began to stroke her again. Their breathing grew ragged and he trailed kisses down her body. She arched her back, selfishly wanting everything from this man, and it wasn't long before she dissolved in pleasure once again.

“Patrick! I love you,” she cried out.

She knew that had been a mistake when Patrick pulled away. For a long time there was only silence. She couldn't stand it. “Patrick?”

He didn't look at her as he stood. “We need to get back.” He began to slip on his clothes. After shoving his feet into his boots, he headed toward the door. Without turning around, he spoke. “I'll wait outside.”

Patrick's hands were shaking so badly he had to dig them into his pockets as he walked to the creek.

She loved him.

He shut his eyes as his heart thudded in his chest. This wasn't supposed to happen. It was only to be a fling, then she'd go on her way, move on with the rest of her life. And he'd have some memories of their unbelievable time together. There weren't supposed to be any lasting feelings, but even he knew there would be. Cynthia Reynolds would be hard enough to get out of his head…and his heart.

Dammit. Why did she have to go and complicate things? There was no way she could be in love with him. She was a famous Hollywood actress.

Not wanting to delve into his own feelings, he retrieved Ace's reins, grabbed the mane and swung up on the animal's back. He turned the horse toward the cabin as Cynthia walked out the door. Her red hair was wild, her eyes glistened and her mouth was swollen from his kisses.

She looked beautiful.

He guided Ace next to the porch and held out his hand. She didn't question him, just took hold and let him lift her up behind him. He sucked in a groan when she scooted up against him, her legs tucked in close, her arms wrapped around his waist, her breasts pressed into his back. He sucked air into his lungs and quickly urged Ace toward home.

“Hang on,” he called to her, then he dug his heels into the horse and they took off. The faster he got away from Cyndi the better.

For both of them.

 

Cynthia had made a big mistake. She'd broken the rules. She'd gotten emotionally involved with Patrick and ruined everything. She opened her suitcase on the bed and began tossing clothes from the bureau inside. Then she went to the closet and began to pull things from the hangers. There wasn't any reason to wait around until she was asked to leave. Besides, she had some pride. She didn't stay where she wasn't wanted, and Patrick Tanner didn't want her here.

She zipped up the bag and glanced around the room one last time. There was nothing left except the NoWait bottle on the dresser. She threw it into
the trash, then grabbed her bags and started downstairs. When she made it to the living room, she ran into Nora. So much for sneaking out the door.

“Cyndi.” Nora glanced down at the luggage. “I thought you weren't leaving until Sunday.”

She had wanted to avoid this. “My plans have changed.”

The young woman looked sad. “I guess if it can't be helped… But that doesn't make it any easier to see you go. Are you sure you have to leave right now?”

“I think it's best I stay in town.”

“What about Patrick?”

“I've already talked with your brother.” But she just recalled she hadn't given him the money. “That reminds me. I need to pay him.” She reached into her purse for her check. “Here's what I owe him for the riding lessons.”

Nora backed away. “Why don't you put it in his office? I need to check on something in the kitchen.”

Cynthia shrugged. “Whatever is convenient.”

She went into Patrick's office. Not surprisingly, the room was neat and orderly. A state-of-the-art computer sat on the large oak desk. She placed the check next to the keyboard, but couldn't leave it without a note. She opened the drawer, found a
piece of paper and a pen, then scribbled a thank you to Patrick for all he'd done for her. With her hand shaking, and tears threatening, she managed to keep it light and impersonal. She ended by adding her private number. But something told her he would never use it.

Cynthia placed the note under the check, then turned to leave. She gasped when she saw Patrick at the door.

“I was just leaving.” She pointed to the desk. “I left your money.”

His expression was cold as stone. “I told you I didn't want it.”

“And I told you that I don't go back on my word. It's for your services.”

He stiffened at her insinuation. “What was between us wasn't a service.” He went to the desk and tore up the check. “I don't want your damn money.”

“And you don't want me. What
will
make you happy, Patrick, if not my money and not me? What?”

Patrick fought to keep from reaching for her. When she'd said she loved him, he'd nearly exploded with happiness. He wanted to think it was possible. He wanted her so badly he couldn't breathe, but he wasn't foolish enough to believe in happy endings.

“Nothing. I've got everything I want.” He turned his back. He needed her to leave now.

No such luck. She came to him. “Do you, Patrick? Do any of us have what we need? I thought I did. I thought my career was all I wanted. When it started to fade, I panicked because it had been my entire life. Yes, I was desperate to get this part in
Cheyenne,
but only because I'd pushed everything else from my life. Then I came here.” Her voice lowered. “I met you.”

Patrick didn't want to hear her soft, caressing voice. He didn't need to hear about what he couldn't have. He'd had a taste of Cynthia Reynolds, but she could never be his.

He swung around. “We would never work, Cyn. You and I had a great time, but you couldn't be happy here. And I'm not cut out to do the Hollywood scene. I want a quiet life, to watch my grapes grow. To—” He couldn't tell her the real reason.

“How do you know I wouldn't love that life? I've been thinking about a career change. I don't have to go to this audition.”

Her big brown eyes searched his for any encouragement. He couldn't give it to her.

“Just ask me, Patrick. Ask me to stay.”

She was killing him. “Cyndi, I'm not the man
you want to invest your hopes and dreams in. It's best if you just forget me.”

“Why? Why can't I love you, Patrick? You're a good man.”

“I'm not. I'll never be what you want.”

“How do you know what I want?”

His hands clenched. “Because, dammit! I'm not what any woman needs.”

“If you love someone—”

“Love has nothing to do with it.” He wasn't getting through to her so he took her by the hand and pulled her into the dining room. He got the album from the drawer and opened to his parents' picture.

“Because of this man, Mick Tanner,” he said. “Because he drank—a lot.”

“Your father was an alcoholic?”

He laughed. “That's putting it mildly. He was a mean drunk. And when he turned mean, he liked to swing his fists—at his wife in particular. After he beat her, he came after his kids.” He glanced down at the photo. “Good old Mick had convinced everyone that he was the perfect family man, but it was all a lie.”

Cynthia didn't know how to respond. She hurt for the family, for the children, for Patrick. “Why didn't your mother get help?”

“Each time, he convinced her that it wouldn't happen again. Then later on, when she stopped believing him, he swore he would kill us kids. There were times he probably would have, but I'd taken the girls and hidden them from him.”

“The line shack,” she breathed. All she could think about was three little girls huddled together, their big brother trying to protect them.

“He came after us once, but he was too drunk to do anything. When we came back home, our mom sported new bruises, a black eye and a swollen lip.

“When I grew older and bigger, I told him that I would kill him if he ever laid a hand on any of us. A friend in the sheriff's department wanted to help, but couldn't do anything unless our mother testified against her husband. She wouldn't. My threats helped some, but the old man still lived in the house. That meant he was still a danger. I worked the ranch while he drank or slept it off.”

Cynthia knew that Patrick couldn't have been much more than a teenager himself. “How did you go to school and do all the work?”

He shrugged. “I managed. Then one day I came home and found my mother had fallen down the basement steps. My old man was talking with the police, crying his eyes out about how he'd come
in from the barn and found her there. He and I both knew it was a lie, but I couldn't prove it. Lucky for him, he died a couple of years after.”

Cynthia watched the pent-up emotions move across Patrick's face. She reached out to him. “Patrick, I'm so sorry.”

He pulled back. “I didn't tell you this for sympathy. I told you so you'd know the truth and give up all hope about us. My father was abusive. I was an abused kid, and there's a good chance I'll turn out just like him.”

She was shocked. “There's no way that—”

“There's every way. I have a temper. A quick temper.”

“You could never hit me or any woman.”

“How can you be so sure? According to my mother, Mick Tanner wasn't always abusive.” He shook his head. “No, I can't take that chance. It's best that we end this.”

“Patrick, I wish I could make you see yourself as everyone else does. Kind and loving. But obviously I can't. You have to work this out for yourself.”

Cynthia went to him, seeing the pain in his eyes. She placed a soft kiss on his lips, knowing it would be their last. She wasn't going to change his mind. And she loved him too much to make
their parting any harder for him. Any hope they would have a future together was in Patrick's hands.

“What you told me will never change how I feel about you. You're the kindest man I've ever known. I just wish you'd let me help you with your fear. The way you helped me.”

Then she walked out, praying he would call to her. But only silence followed her to her car. She didn't have to look around to see if she'd left something behind. She had.

Her heart.

 

The next morning Patrick watched Nora slam around the kitchen. She might think she was being subtle about her anger, but she wasn't. She'd thought something had been going on between him and Cyndi, and she was disappointed that nothing had developed.

Patrick closed his eyes.
Disappointed
wasn't the word he would use to describe how he was feeling.
Miserable. Pitiful. Rotten.
Those words were more accurate. As much as he wanted to think that Cyndi was just a fling, he knew better. How could he have let the situation get so out of control?

“How could you do that to Cyndi?” his sister finally asked.

“I didn't do anything to her,” he lied.

She glared at him. “I'm not a kid anymore, Pat. I saw the sparks between the two of you. The way she looked when she left here, I doubt she was dumping you.”

“It was mutual. And for the best. Come on, Nora. She's a Hollywood actress. I'm a rancher.”

“You're a great guy. And look around, you're not raising any more kid sisters. It's time for you.”

“And I've raised my family. I don't want another.” The lies came so easily. So did the pain. So many times he'd imagined a future with Cyndi, her carrying his child. His heart squeezed in his chest. She would be so beautiful pregnant. He swallowed back the dryness in his throat. God, he had to stop this.