Rekindled Dreams (18 page)

She jumped up. “Did I thank you for saving me from the crowd? I was so glad you stepped in.”

“Yes, you thanked me.” He steered her back to the bench. “After we watched the news, I needed to think, so I left. I shouldn’t have been surprised by how fast what I was doing became public knowledge. Hit pretty hard on the old lack of privacy thing. Do I want every action to be held up for scrutiny? I wasn’t so sure.”

“Wasn’t? Like, past tense?” Vena’s words hung in the air.

“
Thia explained how to view yesterday’s incident in a positive light. The press can be our friend.” He noticed he was talking with his hands. Thia knew someone to teach him which movements to save and which to lose. “If worked right, we can have it turned to our benefit. Instantaneous national coverage can push issues in the right direction at a faster pace. Wider exposure can put a tighter focus right where we want it. What do you think?”

“I thought you were mad about the reporter pestering me.” She dipped her head, her hands clasped together. “You seemed angry at the personal comments.”

“I was.” He stopped and crouched in front of her. “I saw how upset you were, and I charged full steam ahead. Not the smartest way to handle the press. Thia says after a little practice, I’ll learn to steer the interview where I want it to go. What’s that look for?”

“What look?” She turned and gazed over the garden.

“The sad face you just pulled. Talk to me.” He sat on the bench and waited.

She fidgeted with the buttons on her vest. “I don’t know what to say. First, we’re working on the house, and you’re sharing your passion for restoring houses. A venture which I think you’d be great at. Then, after fifteen minutes of national fame, you’re running full-tilt in a political direction.”

“Yeah, Thia says—”

With a groan, she sprang to her feet. “
Thia this and Thia that. Tell me this about Thia. Why did you cave and offer her a room at the snap of her fingers? How come when I wanted to stay, you gave me all sorts of grief? I had to bribe you with pastries from Lottie’s and pump up the ladies’ concern, uh—”

The Irish in him rose, and he pointed an accusing finger. “That was a con job the three of you pulled that day on the porch. Was the allergy attack faked, too?”

“You saw my face. How could I fake that?” She shook her head. “I’m not sure why they relented about me staying here.” Her pacing stopped and she stood opposite him, hands on hips. “At times, you can be so pig-headed.”

“Me?” His head snapped up. “How can you say that?”

“Answer me this, Finnian Quaid. Have I broken our agreement?”

He fumbled to keep up. “What do you mean?”

“Have I complained once about the room or the water being turned off?”

“No.” He thought of the neat arrangement she’d created in her room from the furniture odds and ends.

“Have I gotten in the way of your work?”

A picture of her under the bathroom sink with a wrench in her hand flashed in his mind. “Not exactly in my way.”

“Have I, at any time, demanded meals?”

He remembered her smiles and sparkling eyes the night she’d cooked
Tootie’s fresh-picked vegetables and shared the meal. Or the microwaved casseroles. “No, you’ve been helpful.”

A smile flashed. “So, you admit I’ve met every term of the original agreement.”

Finn grinned at the image of her pacing in the small gazebo, her full skirt flowing around shapely legs as she walked. “I guess I do.”

Suddenly, she slumped to the bench opposite him and folded her hands in her lap. “Then why did you let
Thia stay, no questions asked, no conditions stated?”

Damn.
The orphaned little girl note was back in her voice, and he’d put it there. His chest pinched. At the time, he’d wondered himself. Instead of wrestling with the demonstration’s impact on his future, his thoughts kept returning to Vena and her problems. The image of Vena’s proud face at the end of her speech danced before him.

His gaze met hers. She waited for his answer. His logical reason for the illogical decision he’d made the previous night.

“Finn.” Thia’s voice called from the house. “Where are you?”

Vena fisted her hand and smacked her thigh.

He glanced toward the house and back at disappointment lining her face. “I want to answer your question but—”

“Finn.”
Thia’s voice was louder. “We have a decision to make. Time is wasting.”

“Go on, your campaign needs you.” Her gaze was downcast, her shoulders slumped.

He’d go, but not before he told her the truth. He stepped close and, grasping her shoulders, lifted her to face him. “You want to know the real reason? I let her stay because I needed a buffer.” He spotted her narrowed gaze and wrinkled forehead. “I needed someone else in the house to keep this from happening.” In slow motion, he lowered his head to touch her lips—just a taste, he told himself. But he couldn’t stop with a simple kiss. He pulled her closer, felt her arms go around his neck, and reveled in the sweet pressure of her belly against his groin.

“Finn? Are you out here?”

Thia’s tone was demanding—the tone filtering into his awareness. Breaking the embrace, Finn cupped Vena’s cheeks until she raised heavy lids and her gaze met his. “I don’t want to explain us to Thia—not right now. I’ll take care of this problem, and find you later.” He stepped down to the grass and gave her a backward glance. “We have a lot to talk about.”

****

Hours later, Vena curled up on the window seat of her bedroom, gazing at the star-filled sky. Too keyed up to sleep, she’d tried sitting at the desk to work, but her thoughts of Finn and his words blotted out everything. He’d said “us”—as in a couple, the two of them, together, into the future.

Where was he? She’d waited for hours to hear his knock on her door so they could finish their conversation. The last time she’d peered over the banister, the door to the dining room was still closed.

She couldn’t take this waiting. Grabbing a shawl, she wrapped it around her shoulders, and walked downstairs without bothering with shoes. She picked her way across the spiky grass, praying she wouldn’t step on anything squishy, and sat on a bench in the gazebo.

Had he really meant they had a chance at a relationship? Was she ready to move out of Los Angeles? What would she do for a job in Montana? The local museum held such a small number of items... But, Finn hadn’t firmed up his own decision to move to Dry Creek. If he kept his current job, they’d live in Helena. The city’s museum had a larger collection, probably needing a more experienced staff.

She tipped her head backward and unfocused her gaze, fighting against her rising excitement. The diamond-bright stars blurred and pulsed, making the sky seem like it was breathing. Was she really planning a future with Finn? An occurrence she’d thought about for years, but had never really believed would happen. She always figured this would be a precious dream to savor when she was feeling reminiscent of the old times.

A rustling from behind made her jump, and she whirled in the direction of the house.

FINN STOOD AT THE
entrance of the gazebo, grinning. “Should have figured you’d be here.”

“Hi.” Her jumbled thoughts prevented a clever response. “You look tired.”

“Today’s been hard—full of facts and figures.” He stepped forward and held out his arms. “Just seeing you makes me feel better. I need a hug, Elfie.”

Without hesitation, she walked into his embrace, melting against his firm body. His arms grasped her shoulders, and then crossed slowly over her back and molded her body to his.

Finn groaned. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted this since this morning.” He turned his face into her hair and inhaled. “This is what’s important. Not what’s going on in some corporate boardroom.”

Vena stroked her fingers along the corded muscles of his neck and played with the ends of his hair. Their children would all have heads covered with masses of curls.
Whoa.
She was letting herself get carried away. What mattered was he was holding her, telling her with his body that he needed her. She could give him a calm place to come home to, could be his anchor in life’s storm.

His head dipped lower, and his lips nuzzled kisses along her neck to her shoulder. The brush of his stubble on tender skin made her shiver.

“Don’t you have anything warmer than this?” His voice was gruff, but his eyes were caring as he arranged the crocheted shawl over her exposed shoulders. Using his grip on the cloth, he pulled her close, and his mouth covered hers in a possessive kiss. “How was the rest of your day? I’ve been—”

Lips still tingling, Vena came to a decision. She didn’t want to talk. The hours since he’d left her in this exact spot had dragged, especially when every single thought came back to Finn.

From under the shawl, she twined her arms around his waist, hands locking behind his back. Pressing against the heat at the tops of her legs, she gave herself up to the rush of wanting. She tasted his mouth from one angle and then another, the pull of desire tugging deep in her belly. So often, she had thought of this, and vowed to make this night unforgettable.

No matter what came tomorrow.

She shifted her weight and inched a bare ankle up the back of his denim-clad calf, pulling their bodies closer. His hard muscles leaned into her softness.

A rumble sounded in Finn’s chest as his arms went around her, and his tongue plunged inside, deepening the kiss.

Her body answered, brushing against him in a sinuous rhythm. Her nipples puckered into buds, sending a delicious tingle deep inside. Never had her breasts seemed as full or as tender as when she pressed them against his chest. This felt so right.

Vena threw back her head and gulped deep, letting the crisp air clear the haze clouding her logic. Her heart pounded against her breastbone. “Finn?” She spoke his name on an exhaled breath that blended with the stirrings of the night breeze. Her hand rose to caress his jaw, and his beard stubble pricked her palm.

His lips nibbled kisses along the side of her neck, raising goose bumps along her arms.

“Finn.”

His thighs brushed hers as he bent his knees. “Mmm?”

She felt his answer through the hum of his lips on her shoulder. “Did you mean what you said this morning?”

“What?” His lips traveled back up her neck and found a spot just under her earlobe.

She forgot what she was asking.
Her hands moved up his chest, savoring the pull of his toned muscles as he held her close. Then his lips captured hers in a potent kiss. She reveled in the meshing of their mouths and the sparks that snapped on her skin wherever he touched her. To hold him in place, her hands ran up and tangled in his hair, clasping firmly. She didn’t want this kiss to end, and she wanted so much more.

After all those years of wishing,
Finnian Quaid was finally hers.

His hand inched from her waist along her ribcage, bunching her nightgown’s gauzy fabric as he moved. Everywhere his fingers skimmed, her skin burned.

The rising hem tickled her thighs. In anticipation of his touch, her fingers stilled in his hair, and her nipples ached with arousal.

Warm fingers cupped her breast, moving in slow circles closer to the tip. The flick of his finger across its peak made her jerk, and then she relaxed. She’d waited for so long, never really believing a night like this would happen.

Wanting no mistake about her intentions, she arched her back and pressed against his callused hand. The sensation of his fingers alternately kneading her breast and rubbing its nub spun her senses. Her kisses were fueled with a passion bred from years of yearning and denial.

Finn pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, breathing hard.

Even the puff of his breath on her cheek excited her skin, and she sighed.

“Vena, wait.” His hands framed her face, and he dropped light kisses over her forehead.

Don’t stop
. She squirmed, trying to position her mouth under his lips. “Kiss me, Finn.”

“Vena, there’s nothing I want more, but are you sure?” His sky blue gaze pinned hers. “I’ve wanted you since the night you arrived.”

Vena’s heart soared. She didn’t need any explanations. He wanted her. He loved her. She clasped a hand around his neck and pulled his mouth closer. “This feels so right.” She kissed him with deep strokes of her tongue into the warm cavern of his mouth. “Doesn’t this feel good?” Her other hand clutched the front of his shirt for balance.

He groaned and ground his hips against hers. “Can’t you tell?” His lips covered hers in a firm kiss, and his hand smoothed her curls with a tender touch. “Let’s go inside.”

Vena shook her head. “This gazebo has always been special. Let’s make it our place.”

For a long moment, he gazed at her, then stepped to the side and stooped to bench level. Opening a small bin, he yanked out a thick, plaid blanket and tossed it over the plank flooring. “This isn’t exactly the best—”

Pressing her curves close, she slid next to him and put her fingers over his lips. “Don’t spoil my dream. I’ve imagined us here.”

“Okay, the gazebo it is.” He grasped her elbow and guided her to the middle of the blanket. As she stood still, he grazed her neck and shoulders with his fingertips. “Your skin glows like a pearl in the moonlight. So soft.”

She felt his lips trace the path his fingers had forged, and her desire burned hot, clenching deep in her belly. Her head drooped to one side and she closed her eyes, focusing all her attention on the tingles where his skin touched hers. Pure heaven.

His fingers traced the eyelet edging of her gown’s neckline to the ribbon tie at the center. The backs of his fingers tickled her cleavage as he fumbled with the stubborn knot.
The ribbon came apart with a tug, and she felt cool night air skim her breasts as he slowly widened the opening. “You are so beautiful, sweet Vena.”

Cool night air caressed her breasts, making her nipples tighten. She opened her eyes and sucked in a quick breath, connecting with his intent gaze. Afraid her knees would give way, she laced her fingers with his and tugged as she sank to the blanket.

Finn held up a finger, quickly pulling off his boots and setting them aside before lowering himself to the floor, using the bench as a backrest. He maneuvered her shoulders so her upper body turned and she lay across his lap, supported by his left arm. His other hand cupped her jaw and his thumb ran along the underside of her lower lip.

For a second, Vena wondered if she was dreaming. But none of her dreams through the years had created the heat, the pulsing hunger, she now felt inside. She gazed into his eyes and saw his answering desire. The night sky strewn with twinkling stars shone behind his head—the same stars she’d wished on as a teenager, caught up in the passion of first love.

Tonight, those wishes would become real.

His hand closed over her breast and her breath hitched in her throat. She reveled in the sensations his touch created and wanted more. Twisting, she reached to unbutton his shirt starting at the bottom. The skin of his tanned stomach appeared, and her fingers strayed to slide along taut muscles.

Two more buttons and the shirt fell to the sides, exposing his firm chest. Her palms skimmed the tufts of springy curls, her fingers learning the contours of his body. She lowered her lips to graze a path upward from his navel to the muscle jerking on his jawline.

“You surprise me.” He huffed out a breath and then spoke through stiff lips.

She lifted her gaze to look into eyes darkened by desire to a deep blue. “I do?”

He grinned and kissed her nose. “I never pictured you as a seductress.”

Wow, neither did I.
She smiled and lowered her head, wishing for hair long enough to cover one eye. That would be seductive. Her lips kissed a path to his flat nipple. With slow licks, she flicked the tip of her tongue around the tight bead, the crisp hairs of his chest scratching her cheek. She thrilled at his sharp intake of breath and moved across his chest to the other.

Her hand strayed downward to his waist and fumbled with his belt buckle. When her fingers brushed his stomach, she felt his muscles contract and exulted in her effect on his body. Unable to unbuckle it one-handed, she pushed away and used both hands, being sure to trail her fingers along his rigid fly.

Finn closed his eyes and dropped his head back, his breathing loud in the still night.

Keeping her gaze on his face, Vena unzipped his jeans and opened the fly wide. His briefs strained from the rigidity of his erection. She caressed the whirl of hair just below his navel and dipped her thumb under the waistband, running her fingers over his tight stomach muscles.

Arching his back, he groaned and braced both hands on the blanket.

For a second, she leaned away, relishing how this sexy man waited on her next action. Then she straddled his lap, pooling the fullness of her nightgown around her hips.

His head snapped up, his gaze intense. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close for a fierce kiss. A kiss that stole her breath with its intensity. One hand cradled the back of her head and the other slid up her stomach to tease an already erect nipple. “Up,” he whispered against her lips.

Too fuzzy to form an answer, she could only mumble. “
Mmm?”

“Lift your rear.”

At his gruff command, Vena shifted her weight. She felt the back of his hands tickle her inner thighs as he yanked at his clothes. Blood pumped with a rhythmic beat in her eardrums.

His hands slipped under the elastic of her bikini panties and cupped her butt, then moved her along the length of his shaft. “That feels great.”

The heaviness of arousal centered in her slick folds, and she wiggled her hips to create even more friction. Planting her hands near his shoulders, she leaned forward and circled the tips of her nipples on his pecs. Her gaze connected with his and the simmering heat she saw emboldened her. The pressure of his rigid length on her engorged bud rocked her, and she gasped. “Oh. I need more.”

At her hip, his fingers grasped the cloth and tore it away. “I’ve been waiting for this—skin to skin.” A finger traced on her abdomen.

She shivered and ran her hands over his hard chest.

“Your butterfly. Interesting place.”

The symbol for her life’s changes was highly personal and only shared with a special man. “I like it.” With a slow move, she ground against his erection.

His hands grabbed her hips, holding her in place, and he huffed out a breath. “We can’t. I’m not prepared.”

“There’s an alternative.” With a sly smile, Vena scooted off his lap and leaned over to taste him. Her tongue ran over his rigid shaft, following the twining veins and circling the rounded head.

He moaned, trailed a hand up her ribs and cupped a breast, flicking a thumb across her nipple.

She drew him into her mouth, her lips stretching with his girth. Greedy for his taste, she bobbed her head, enjoying the tickle of hairs against her cheek.

He growled and pressed on the back of her head, his hips rising. A roughened palm ran along her leg, circling high on her inner thigh.

Wanting more, she eased her knees apart, welcoming his touch along her dewy folds. Fiery tingles ran over her skin, kicking her arousal higher. She wrapped a hand around the base of his shaft and pumped, following the direction of her mouth. Her other hand stroked the taut muscles of his thigh.

With a groan, he stroked a finger inside and circled. “You’re so wet.”

Her skin felt alive, like her nerves were on overload. This moment felt so good, she wanted to hold it forever. His thumb pressed on her bud, and jolts shot through her body, her breath catching in her throat. “Oo.” Each of his touches pumped her blood faster and kicked her responses higher.

Her lips nibbled and lapped at the purple head, and then moved to eat at his whole length. Her head rocked faster. Heat from his body radiated toward hers. Alternating caresses and thrusts of his fingers took her over the edge, her orgasm coming in shuddering waves.

Hand clamped on her shoulder, he plunged upward several more times before his body stiffened.

Pulsing jets of his release filled her mouth and she swallowed fast. Throaty rasps sounded in the night air as they both fought to regain their breath.