Last Night's Kiss (12 page)

“Seriously,” he said. “I’m grateful you stopped and helped Dad.”

Rosa felt a tug of embarrassment. She hadn’t done anything special. Nothing a neighbor wouldn’t do. “Isn’t that what people do out here? It’s one of the stories I read in your great-grandmother Clara’s diary. The tradition continues to this day, your father says. How is he doing, by the way?”

“He’s the same, cranky, wants to have his way. But Medea’s keeping him in line.”

Rosa laughed. “I’m sure she’s capable.” She could picture the woman taking charge and ordering Bailey around even if he didn’t want to do what she said.

“Very capable. She’s been with us since I was a boy. She knows all my father’s tricks.”

Rosa stared out at the mountains. They fascinated her. They had a calming effect on her and she liked seeing them, knowing they were there each day when she woke.

She looked back at Adam. He was staring at her, his expression confusing to her. It was open, seeking, intense, both asking and wanting something.

The air between them went from comfortable to awkward. Rosa didn’t know why. Then Adam looked down. His index finger touched hers. It slid along her hand. Rosa felt goose bumps travel up her arm. But it felt good. These weren’t the kind that she got when she was cold, dressed too scantily for the weather but posing for the perfect photo anyway. These were the chemistry kind. His touch was light, yet it caused a chain reaction in her. Localized for the moment, the swarm of warmth only covered her arm. Rosa knew it could burst into flame at any moment and encompass all of her.

“Adam.” She spoke softly. Her voice wouldn’t get any louder. “What are we doing?”

“Nothing yet,” he said.

“Yet?” Anticipation jumped into her. She could almost hear it buzzing in her ears.

He lifted her hand. Rosa resisted, pulling slightly on it, but not hard enough to dislodge his grip. He brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

“Adam, you don’t want to start something we can’t finish.”

“We can finish this.” The seduction in his voice was almost her undoing.

“No,” she said a little stronger. “I’m only here for the summer.”

Adam didn’t hold her any tighter, but he kept her hand. “What are you afraid of?”

“Nothing,” she denied.

He watched her a moment. Rosa wanted to drop her eyes, but she didn’t. Wouldn’t.

“You’re afraid of me,” he stated.

“Why would I be afraid of you?”

“Like you said, afraid of starting something you can’t finish. I know what you’re thinking.”

“You do?”

“I’ve been there. Always moving, having no time to make lasting friendships, and relationships are out of the question. All you can think of is the next plane, the next city.”

He was right. He read her as openly as if he were reading a tried-and-true plot.

“There comes a time when you have to stop,” he said. “Miss that plane. Stop and be a part of what’s going on around you.” He tugged at her arm and she fell a little closer to him. “We won’t say we’re starting anything. We’re just two people enjoying a morning on a Montana mountain.”

His mouth was close to hers. Rosa could feel his breath on her lips. The airwaves between them transported the coffee he’d drunk to her taste buds. It was a fervent elixir and turned her blood to fire. Even though he held only her hand, he was carrying all her weight. His free hand went around her back and he pulled her close.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered.

Rosa could say nothing. The only thing she could do was lean into him. Her eyes focused on small portions of his face, his eyes, his cheeks, his lips, his chin. She looked up and down, as they moved closer and closer to each other. She wound her arms around his neck and let thoughts of resisting him fall away like discarded laundry.

Rosa wasn’t sure what was happening to her. She should have been pushing herself up, or at least not letting herself get involved, but something was happening to her that had never happened before. She wanted Adam to kiss her. She wanted to feel his arms around her again.

She moved in, eliminating the millimeter of space that separated them. His mouth was sure, his lips soft and wet. Sensation streaked through her like lightning. She ran her tongue along the line of his mouth. It opened to admit her. Adam’s arms tightened around her. The griplike vise felt good. She liked the feel of his chest against hers. While it was hard and solid, she felt safe and cared for. His arms caressed her as his hands smoothed over her skin. Fingers threaded through her hair, dislodging it from the confining band. He gathered the locks, using the band as a gentle rope to tie her hair.

The wind swirled around them, a vortex encapsulating them, bonding them together, and restricting the world to nonexistence. Adam’s mouth tantalized hers. She never wanted it to end. She wanted this sensual assault to go on forever. Adam’s hands had moved from the outside of her blouse to the bare skin of her back. She arched when he touched her naked skin. Fiery trails banked along the places where his hands explored.

Rosa’s breath caught in her throat as his thumbs came around her body and rubbed across her nipples. She wanted to get closer, remove the fabric of her bra, and feel the raw touch of his hands roaming over skin so sensitive she thought it would melt.

Finally, Rosa slipped her mouth from Adam’s. She rested her head on his shoulder. Even from there, she could feel his heart beating against her cheek. Hers was beating fast, too. Adam’s hands continued to caress her. Her eyes closed and she let the wonderment course through her. Then his hands stopped. He pulled them down her back and below the hem of her blouse.

Rosa lay for another moment lost in a dreamlike state. Then she pushed herself back. His legs were behind her and she couldn’t move very far away.

“It’s started now,” Adam said.

For a moment she didn’t understand what he meant. Then she remembered her own comment about starting something they couldn’t finish.

“I suppose we’re going to have to finish it,” she said. “One way or another.”

It didn’t take them long to decide which way. They rode the horses back to Rosa’s as fast as they could. Adam slapped their tails as soon as they dismounted. The horses took off.

“They’ll go back to the stables,” he said. “The groom will rub them down.”

“Won’t he wonder where we are?”

“He might.” Adam didn’t explain any further, grabbing Rosa’s hand. The two went inside and straight up the stairs to her bedroom.

He turned her into his arms, his mouth seeking hers like a homing device. He stopped just before their lips melded. Rosa wondered if there was something wrong. Had he changed his mind? He was looking at her as if he were memorizing her features, as if he wanted to capture this moment, burn it into his memory bank to pull out on some future night and relive.

She smiled at him, allowing him to divide her into features, to take in the sum of her. She did the same. He was beautiful, even more so in the preamble to love. His features were relaxed, unguarded, and open. Rosa quivered at the feelings that surged through her. She could feel her body making itself ready for him. The anticipation of them making love made her melt in his arms.

His mouth clamped down on hers as if he couldn’t breathe the next moment without sharing it with her. Rosa felt the same. She tore at his clothes. He tore at hers, peeling her blouse down her arms. It fell to the floor. Her jeans took more time, but his hands working inside them, sliding them over her hips and down her legs had her clamping her teeth on her lip to keep from screaming at the pleasure of his touch. Waves of delight went through her. She couldn’t step out of the pants because her boots held them on. Sitting down, she pulled them off.

When she looked up, Adam’s boots were gone, too. His jeans joined hers on the floor. His shirt was completely unbuttoned and she could see his dark chest through the fabric. Reaching up, she pulled him down on the bed. His hand went behind her, into her hair. He pulled her head close and kissed her. A moment later Rosa felt the release on her bra give way and Adam’s free hand replaced the fabric with the warmth of his palm. Her nipples grew hard.

“I hope you have a condom,” she whispered.

Her body was hot, burning for him.

Rosa heard the crinkle of foil and looked at the packet Adam was holding. He removed his shirt and they quickly undressed the rest of the way. Rosa stared at him. He was gorgeous all over, not just in the places where the public could see. His muscles were hard and toned. His skin was an even color as if someone had painted it with a single brushstroke. His torso tapered to a waist and long legs, legs that swung over hers as Rosa anticipated their coupling.

He didn’t enter her immediately. His hand traced her skin from shoulder to hip. Then he moved it between them, touching the core of her and watching her reaction as she sucked in air. She could taste the odor of sex in the room. It was pungent and guaranteed to get stronger the further they went with the primal dance.

Rosa tried to hang on to some control as Adam entered her, but it was a losing proposition. The pleasure curve rioted off the scale. Her arms went limp and she raised her legs to allow him greater entry. She took his body into hers full tilt. Biting her lip, she held the moan of pleasure inside.

As he began to move, she went with him, matching his pace. The room filled with grunts and moans. Their bodies writhed in unison. Rosa abandoned herself to the rapture. The pacing increased as Adam filled her time and again. Her body came alive with the heat of their lovemaking. He seemed to know her, understand her need, find the places on her body that would intensify her pleasure. She’d never known anyone like Adam. He was gentle with her, yet he was taking her on an ecstasy trip like she’d never known.

She felt her climax building. She held on, wanting to continue this feeling of being high on a mountain and knowing she would fall, but when she pitched off that mountain she would soar into the unknown with Adam. There was no fear in not knowing. She craved it, grabbed for each rung of the ladder that would take her higher and higher into an experience that she hadn’t thought was possible.

She heard her voice calling Adam’s name. With each hard thrust of his body, she wanted more and more of him. Then the explosion came. Together they burst, having reached a pleasure so high they couldn’t move it a single step higher. Adam flopped down on her. Rosa let out a long breath. She hugged his shoulders, her heart hammering, her breath coming in short gasps. Her body was hot, liquid almost. But she was sated. She didn’t move, never again wanted to move. Rosa wanted to stay where she was, her body still coupled with Adam’s. She never wanted that connection broken.

The bedsheets under Rosa were tangled. It looked like the two of them had had wild sex, and that’s exactly what had happened. Adam would be good in bed, but he never expected her to be perfect. He wanted to make love to her again and their first encounter wasn’t over yet. Rosa’s body was still humming with the aftermath of an erotic experience.

Rosa had never known anyone to make love like Adam. The two of them should be burning up, white hot and molten. She was amazed her skin could hold her body intact. Adam amazed her, but then he always had. Even when she saw him on the tiny screen and had never met him, he did things to her. She knew he was part of the reason she accepted Vida’s invitation to visit. She and Vida were close friends, but Rosa had always gone home to Texas when she needed to rest. Her family helped revitalize her and if she only felt like lying around and reading, they didn’t coax her or force her to get out and join the party.

When Vida had offered her a place to rest for the summer, Rosa found herself accepting because she wanted to meet the sexy reporter she’d seen so many times during her trips. Adam Osborne was a friendly face wherever she was. WNN was broadcast worldwide and she’d come to look at him as her anchor in unfamiliar territory. Then suddenly, two years go, he’d disappeared without a word. Vida was the one who’d told her Adam had returned to live in Waymon Valley. While Rosa told herself she was visiting a friend, she knew she wanted to find Adam.

And she had.

When Adam opened his eyes, he was alone. He sat up in the bed that used to be his. Today it had housed the two of them. At least for the last few hours. Yet Rosa was gone. Damn, he cursed to himself. What had gotten into him? Had his brain lost all touch with his body? He’d dreamed of having Rosa Clayton in his arms, but he never expected to act on that dream. She wasn’t his kind of woman. He’d been with her kind and he never wanted to go there again.

But he had.

Maureen was the kind of woman he looked for. Pretty on any given day, beautiful when she dressed up. She was intelligent, caring, and knew what she wanted in life. Maureen had been his friend, not his lover. They never got to be lovers. But before Maureen, there had been Cassie. Cassandra Marteen, aspiring producer, and Corinthia Gleason, Paris bureau chief, women who had torn his heart to shreds and walked away without a thought or care. Both of them had been beautiful. And both of them had used that beauty to get what they wanted. They thought he could help and he’d fallen into the trap like a gullible fourteen-year-old.

Pushing the covers back, he looked over the railing to the wide-open space below. She wasn’t there. There was no sign of her, no presence that she was near. Adam was vaguely disappointed that she hadn’t waited to wake up with him. Going into the bathroom, he showered. Lifting her shampoo, he read the printed label.
Violet Rain
was printed in script. Instantly he smelled her scent. He recognized the smell of her hair and remembered crushing that hair in his hands. It had been soft and springy and he liked the way it swung when she gathered it into a ponytail. He put the bottle back and turned the water to cold.

He hoped she wasn’t back in the hills. She and her camera worried him. This wasn’t the friendliest part of the country. Dangers lurked everywhere, especially for those who weren’t familiar with the territory. And he didn’t want any mishap to come to her. She’d already encountered one bear, yet he’d found her alone riding toward those hills.

Adam rubbed soap over himself, but he had to laugh. Why was he worried about Rosa Clayton? She wasn’t just beautiful; she could handle three teenage boys, she rode like a champion, and she handled a rifle with cool efficiency. Maybe he was trying to protect the wrong woman.

After dressing, Adam walked back toward the stables. He’d borrow a horse and ride home. He expected to be interrogated by his father about being gone so long, but as he opened the door, he heard the familiar sound of his father’s laughter coming from the back of the house. Adam went toward it. It was a room they rarely used. Mainly their movements involved the kitchen or the large room directly off the kitchen. The room in the back looked out on the property. There was a patio and garden Adam’s mother had tended when she was alive. Medea took care of it now. She called it therapy for having to deal with two men in the house. There were large windows that made the room bright.

Adam stopped in his tracks when he saw Rosa sitting in one of the big leather chairs. His heart lurched. Of all the places he expected to find her, the back room of his house would be last on the list. A stronger sensation went through him when he noticed how she fit so well into the surroundings. She had on a western skirt and boots, her legs were crossed, but his mind saw her as she’d been right after they made love. She was radiant, beautiful in the light flooding through the windows. He shifted as he recognized the signs of arousal.

Bailey looked up. “Adam, I was wondering where you were. Medea said you went out riding.”

“I did,” he answered, unwilling to give any further information. “What’s going on here?”

“Your father is telling me stories about the settling of this part of the country,” Rosa explained.

Her eyes were radiant. Her skin had a glow to it he hadn’t noticed before. She didn’t have her hair in the ponytail. Curls framed her face and cascaded down to rest on her collarbones. Adam could spend the rest of the day staring at her.

“Memoirs,” Bailey said.

His father’s voice snapped him out of the daze he was in. Bailey Osborne’s stare swung between Adam and Rosa, yet he said nothing about what he saw there. “I finally agreed to Joy’s request.”

It took Adam a moment to understand what he meant.

“Rosa is going to record and write down what I tell her. And she tells me you’ve agreed to edit it for a book.” Bailey indicated the desk.

Adam saw a laptop computer sitting on top of it. “I guess you could say Rosa gets what she wants.”

Her eyes flashed at him.

“We’ve been working about an hour,” Bailey said. “We just stopped for something to drink. Want some lemonade?”

“Lemonade?” Adam hadn’t moved from his position. His father never drank lemonade. He loved his coffee.

“I wanted coffee, but Rosa insisted that too much coffee is bad for my heart.”

“I’m glad someone can get through to you.” Adam moved into the room then. Rosa’s eyes followed his steps.

He hadn’t wanted their first encounter after making love to be with an audience. He didn’t know that seeing her again would have him wanting to make love to her again. He needed time to think about how to handle the situation. Making love with her had been fantastic, but he knew life wasn’t about sex. She was only here for the summer. She had a life, a career outside of the Valley. And he wasn’t ready for a long-term relationship. The trauma of the past year had drained him of any desire to commit himself to a cause or a relationship.

Bailey handled him a glass of lemonade. Adam thought of the patio at Rosa’s where they’d had lunch. She was a fan of lemonade. He accepted it and drank it in one long gulp. His throat was parched and once he started drinking, he kept going.

“Your father was telling me about his grandmother, Clara,” Rosa said. “Things that weren’t in the diary.”

Adam nodded. He had heard the stories. His great-grandmother had come to Montana from Virginia in 1899. She was a teacher and apparently a lot about Waymon Valley changed with her direction.

She lived well into her nineties, but died when Adam was two years old. You couldn’t grow up in the Valley and not know about Clara and Luke Evans. Adam had taken them for granted until he was twelve years old and a history class on the Civil War suddenly made the hardships she’d endured come alive. Later he wondered what it was like in the early days of the century.

Thankfully, Clara had left a diary. Adam had read it along with several other books on the territory. And thanks to Joy and Rosa, his father was also providing an oral history.

“I think Adam gets some of his strength from her, but he doesn’t remember much about her when she was strong,” Bailey said. “There are times I can see a lot of her in him.”

“What a compliment,” Rosa said. She glanced at Adam and it took all his resistance to remain where he was.

“I never knew my biological mother,” Rosa stated. “Or any relatives for that matter.” Her gaze went back to Bailey.

“How so?” he asked.

“I was adopted by a doctor in the hospital where I was abandoned.”

“Her entire family was adopted,” Adam further explained. “Remember the story of that woman who found her birth parents after being kidnapped thirty years earlier?”

Bailey was nodding. He turned to Rosa. “That couldn’t be you. You’re not thirty years old.”