I Cross My Heart (4 page)

“No, but I talked to plenty of divorced people back when I was working full-time as a counselor. I can tell it was a painful event. So if all this reminds you of something to do with your ex, then let’s—”

“Not at all. This is great.”

She took a deep breath. “I’m glad you like it. I put out the wineglasses automatically, but we don’t have to drink wine. You may not want to, considering that you’ll be working later.”

“Let’s have a glass of wine,” Nash said. “I’m a big guy, so one glass won’t put me under the table. And we should toast getting one room looking really good.” There, he’d finally managed to get them on a safe track.

She smiled. “That would be lovely. Stay right there. I’ll be back in a flash with the wine and the food.”

“I’ll help.” He started to follow her into the kitchen.

“No.” She turned so abruptly that he bumped into her.

Although she backed away immediately, his body still felt the imprint of hers—soft, yielding, delicious. He closed his hands into fists so he wouldn’t do something really stupid and reach for her.

She’d been affected by the accidental contact, too. Her pupils widened with awareness. She might be heading off to Atlanta, but that didn’t stop her from being attracted to him. That was gratifying.

She cleared her throat. “I don’t want you to come into the kitchen. I scrubbed it down, but it still isn’t very pretty. The dining room is, and I want to maintain the illusion.”

“Having you wait on me doesn’t seem right.”

“Humor me, okay?”

He relented, partly because she looked so incredibly beautiful standing there with the light from the chandelier sparkling in her eyes. He also realized that she’d encountered mostly ugliness when she’d walked into the house earlier today. If limiting his view to this dining room helped her cope, then he’d go along.

“All right,” he said. “But I refuse to sit down like some lord of the manor. I’ll stay standing until I can help you into your chair.”

She nodded. “It’s a good compromise.” With that she turned and walked over to the pocket door leading into the kitchen. “No peeking. Enjoy the sunset.”

Because he wanted to make her happy, he walked over to the set of two double-hung windows that faced southwest and watched an orange sun slide behind a bank of clouds. From here he could see a little bit of the Grand Tetons to his right. The house wasn’t angled to capitalize on a view of the majestic range. The best spot might be at the back, and he wondered if there was a porch out there.

If not, he’d add one. Ah, listen to him, talking in his head as if she’d already agreed to sell him the Triple G. But he couldn’t think why she wouldn’t.

Then a very logical reason came to him. Obviously making this dining room pretty again had been a labor of love. The crystal chandelier told him that at one time, someone, probably her mother, had tried to bring cheer into this house.

Now Bethany was attempting to do the same thing by rescuing the house, room by room. As she gradually removed the ugliness her father had created and replaced it with beauty, she might begin to love her old family home again. In the meantime Nash would improve the look of the outbuildings so they wouldn’t be depressing anymore, either.

Sure, Atlanta was a long way from Wyoming, but her decision to sell might be a knee-jerk reaction to her father’s neglect of the place followed by his undignified death. Once the house and outbuildings looked decent, though, she might decide to keep the ranch.

He still planned to ask if she’d sell it to him, but his conscience would require him to add that she could change her mind later. That was the right thing to do. But as he contemplated how this could turn out, his cherished dream began to crumble.

4

B
ETHANY
HAD
WONDERED
if she and Nash would have anything to say to each other over dinner. Just because he was built like a Greek god didn’t mean that he could carry on a conversation. Turned out he was excellent at it. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much during a meal.

They sat kitty-corner from each other at the large oval table. She’d arranged the place settings that way because it had seemed friendlier, and from the easy way they’d talked to each other during the meal, anyone might think they were old friends.

They reminisced about Jackson High School and teachers they’d had. They shared a lot of the same opinions about who had been great and who should have been fired. She discovered that Nash had a degree in animal science and they had a lively debate on the differences between animal psychology and people psychology.

“If animals could talk, we could settle this once and for all,” Bethany said. She took a sip of her wine and wondered why there was still so much left in her glass.

“Thank God they can’t!” Nash leaned back in his chair and picked up his glass, which was as full as hers. His plate was empty, though. “I lost my virginity in a barn. I’m sure the stallions would have razzed me about my technique if they’d been able to comment during the event. Plus I’d snuck out there with the school superintendent’s daughter, and naturally I didn’t want that information spread around. I could have been expelled.”

Picturing Nash having sex, even virginal sex, was having a predictable effect on her. She hoped he’d attribute her flush to the wine. She glanced at the bottle and discovered that it was empty. It dawned on her that Nash must have refilled their glasses at some point and she’d been having too much fun to notice.

“I hadn’t thought of animals being tattletales,” she said. “I guess it’s a good thing they can’t talk. I lost my virginity to my then-boyfriend when his parents weren’t home, and as I remember, there was a cat lying on his desk. She probably saw the whole thing.”

“Kinky.” He grinned at her. “Are you one of those women who likes having an audience?”

“No, I most certainly do not! It was a
cat,
not a person
.
And frankly, it sort of freaked me out when I noticed her staring at us.” She took another swallow of wine and realized she was feeling extremely mellow. And all this talk of sex was turning her on. “Do
you
like an audience?” If he did, that would help cool her off. She wasn’t into that.

Of course, she wasn’t supposed to be feeling hot in the first place. And she’d never bothered to record her long-term goal in her day planner, either. The double whammy of wine and sexy conversation made her wonder why boinking Nash would interfere with having her own television show someday. The extremely boinkable Nash Bledsoe was looking yummier by the minute.

“I prefer privacy when I’m making love to a woman.” His voice had lowered to a sexy drawl and his blue gaze held hers. “I don’t like the idea of being interrupted.”

Oh, Lordy.
She could hardly breathe from wanting him. “Me, either.”

He put down his glass and leaned toward her. “I have a confession to make.”

“Me, too.”

“Okay, you first, then.”

She took another hefty swallow of wine, for courage. “You know when I claimed that this nice dinner wasn’t supposed to be romantic?”

“Yeah.”

“I lied.”

“Oh, really?” His blue eyes darkened to navy. “Care to elaborate?”

“See, you were this out-of-reach senior back in high school, and I was a nerdy freshman, so when you showed up today, I thought about flirting with you because now I actually have the confidence to do that. But then you offered to help repair the place, so I
couldn’t
flirt with you. But I still thought you were really hot. We shouldn’t have sex, though. At least, I didn’t think so this morning, but then I fixed up the dining room, and I admit you were on my mind while I did that. So I think secretly I wanted it to be romantic. But I—”

“Do you always talk this much after two glasses of wine?” He’d moved even closer, bare inches away.

She could smell his shaving lotion. Then she realized what that meant. He’d shaved before coming over here. That was significant. “I didn’t have two full glasses.”

“I think you did.”

She glanced at her wineglass, which was now empty. Apparently she’d been babbling and drinking at the same time. “You poured me a second glass.” When he started to respond, she stopped him. “But that’s okay, because if you hadn’t, I wouldn’t be admitting to you that I want you so much that I almost can’t stand it, and you wouldn’t be looking at me as if you actually might be considering the idea of...”

“Of what?” He was within kissing distance.

“This.” She grabbed his face in both hands and planted one on that smiling mouth of his. And oh, it was glorious. Nash Bledsoe had the best mouth of any man she’d ever kissed. Once she’d made the initial contact, he took over, and before she quite realized it, he’d pulled her out of her chair and was drawing her away from the table.

“Bedroom,” he murmured between kisses. “Where is it?”

She thought fast, or as fast as the wine would allow. “Follow me.” She eased out of his arms and took his hand. “And don’t look at anything.”

“You’re all that I see.”

Ah, he was good, this guy. He knew his lines, and she had a feeling he’d know the right moves, too. Shoving open the pocket door, she led him through the kitchen. Fortunately she’d turned out the light so it was dim in there.

Her bedroom and bath were off the kitchen. She only had a twin bed, and the room’s color scheme was as pink as the bathroom and included ruffles. She didn’t think he’d care, though, especially if she didn’t turn on the light and he wasn’t faced with all the girlie frills from the get-go. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I have condoms.”

“You do?” He sounded amused. “Since when?”

“Since I went shopping today. And I told myself I wasn’t going to have sex with you, but then I thought,
What if he seduces me but forgot the condoms?
”

“Good thought.”

“I like covering my options.” Once they were inside her bedroom, she turned and moved into his arms. “
Were
you going to seduce me?”

“No. Or I would have brought condoms.” He cupped her chin and turned her face up to his. “But I’m perfectly willing to be seduced.”

“Oh, good.” With a sigh, she nestled against him. “Except I’m not so good at seduction. Not a lot of practice.”

He laughed. “Then I’ll take it from here.”

“Sure. That would be great.” Once he started kissing her again, she knew she’d made the right decision. This cowboy knew his way around a seduction. She was in the hands of a master.

And what hands they were, too—large and strong, hands that could gentle a horse or excite a woman with equal skill. Because she’d bolted straight to city life after high school, she’d never been loved by a man who worked with his hands. Serious omission on her part.

With the kind of dexterity that could repair a broken bridle or braid a rope, he unfastened the buttons down the front of her sleeveless blouse. And he did it while kissing the living daylights out of her. His tongue did things to her mouth that, if employed elsewhere on her body, would be illegal in some states. She hoped he was into breaking a law or two.

The man also knew how to get a woman out of her bra, and once he did, he demonstrated how much he understood the sensitivity of breasts in general and nipples in particular. Oh, dear God. She trembled on the edge of an orgasm, and he’d only stroked her breasts.

He lifted his mouth from hers. “You feel incredible.”

“You, too.”

Laughter rippled through his response. “You haven’t touched me yet.”

Oh.
She’d meant that his hands on her breasts felt incredible, but in her dazed state of pure pleasure, she’d abandoned her side of the deal. “Sorry.”

His breath was warm as he nuzzled the spot behind her ear. “You don’t have a thing to be sorry about. You invited me into your bedroom and you have condoms. But I’d appreciate it if you’d unzip my jeans.”

“Glad to.” She eased back and slid her hand down to reach for his zipper, where she discovered that the denim covering his crotch was stretched to the breaking point. Tugging down his zipper wouldn’t be easy, but once she did, she was in for a treat.

She found the zipper tab, but the physics of the situation worked against her. She made no progress whatsoever.

“Unfasten my belt buckle and the top snap, first.”

She was amazed that he could even talk, considering the fact that he’d already unbuttoned and unzipped her capris and was presently working them down over her hips. That was enough to make her speechless, but not him, apparently. She turned her attention to his belt buckle.

When she got it undone and managed to unhook the metal button, too, his breath caught. She drew the metal zipper down and he quivered. Until that point, she’d thought the power was all on his side, but not so. She shoved his briefs down along with his jeans, and he gasped.

Or maybe she’d sucked in a breath. Didn’t matter. She had a grip on him now, and once she’d wrapped her hands around the amazing length and breadth of what had been constrained inside those briefs, she was awed...and grateful. If not for a burning recliner and a bottle of wine later on, she might never have held such a treasure, or anticipated the joy that treasure might bring.

She started to sink to her knees.

“No, wait.” He grasped her by her elbows and drew her back up. “Let’s get rid of the rest of our clothes. Once you start doing that, I won’t want to stop for anything, and I can’t maneuver when we’re still dressed.”

“You bet.” While he pulled off his boots, she nudged off her sandals and stepped out of her panties and capris. The soft light of the sunset filtered through her pink sheer curtains and gave the room a rosy glow. She’d never brought a man, or even a teenage boy, here before. She was glad the place held no memories of other guys. That made tonight unique.

“There.” Tossing the last of his things to the floor, he stood before her in all his aroused glory. The evening shadows made him seem slightly mysterious, a phantom man come to claim her. “Where were we?”

In the semidarkness, she grew bold. “I think we left off here.” She flattened her palms against his sculpted chest. Leaning forward, she pressed her mouth against his breastbone. His skin was hot, and his heart throbbed against her hand.

He tasted like heaven and sin all wrapped up in the musky aroma of pure male. Slowly she made her way down his torso, hands stroking, mouth nibbling, until she reached her goal and dropped to her knees. As she curled her fingers around his generous endowment, he groaned.

“I thought you weren’t any good at this.” He sounded hoarse and not nearly as in control as he had been moments ago.

“I’m not.” She placed a soft kiss on the head of his penis.

He sucked in a breath. “I beg to differ.”

“Maybe you inspire me.” He might never realize how much. Obviously she’d never abandoned the fantasy of a cowboy lover—strong and daring, yet tender and kind—but she’d never indulged that fantasy. Tonight she would.

His voice was strained. “Bethany...”

“I’m here.” With that, she took him into her mouth and felt the power of making a man her slave.

Nash gripped her head with both hands and his big body shook. She was no expert at this, but a girl only had to use her imagination. She already knew that this significant body part was extremely sensitive, and she assumed that the swirl of her tongue and the suction of her mouth would register high on his personal Richter scale.

That assumption proved true. As she paid exceptionally close attention to his penis, his breathing changed dramatically. Soft moans turned into gasps and heartfelt groans of approval.

Even better, his excitement fueled hers. She was really getting into the project when he pressed his fingertips into her scalp. “Stop.”

Temporarily pulling back, she gazed up at him. “Something wrong, cowboy?” She’d always wanted to address a man as
cowboy,
and now she had the real deal right in front of her.

“I...” He cleared his throat. “I’m too close.”

“Need a breather?”

“No.” He gulped in air. “I need...a condom. Please.”

She could read between the lines. He was a considerate lover who wanted to make sure he took care of his lady before he came. Chalk up one more point for Nash Bledsoe.

“I’ll get the box.” She rose to her feet and discovered she was pretty darned shaky, too.

“Hurry.”

“They’re in the bathroom.” She went into her attached bath accompanied by the sound of pillows hitting the floor and linens being yanked back with a decisive swoosh. He was obviously making good use of his time to prepare the bed for sex.

She grabbed the box from under the counter and turned to find him right there, hand out.

“I’ll open it.” His voice was low and urgent as he stepped aside. “Go lie down.”

If she hadn’t been half crazed with lust, she would have laughed at his abrupt command. But light from the setting sun revealed the lines of strain on his face. He was holding back with great effort, and losing control would break his personal code of sexual conduct.

He ripped open the cardboard box. “Sorry.
Please
go lie down.”

“Glad to.” Walking into her bedroom, she noticed that her twin bed had been stripped down to the bottom sheet. Her comforter and all the pillows, both the practical and decorative ones, had been tossed to the floor.

Nash seemed to be ready for streamlined action, and she was only too happy to oblige. Good thing she’d packed away her stuffed animals the last time she’d been home. How embarrassing if he’d had to move teddy bears to clear the way for wild jungle sex.

As per his terse instructions, she stretched out on the pink sheet, although it didn’t seem so pink in this light. The sheet had been softened by many launderings. Years ago she used to lie on this bed and imagine that someone like Nash, sometimes even Nash himself, was about to ravish her. Her heart pounded with anticipation. Fiction was about to become fact.