Thunderbolt over Texas (6 page)

“And you've never been married.”

“Lucky for you.” If he was married she wouldn't be getting this opportunity with the Thunderbolt.

“See, I have a hard time believing women aren't interested in you. If you'd wanted—”

“Plenty of women are interested in me.” He felt ego-bound to point that out. Well, maybe not plenty. But some. Enough. He wasn't exactly a monk out here.

“Then why haven't you settled down?”

“It's not by choice.”

“Bet it is.”

“Not my choice.”

“The women said no?”

He refused to answer, wondering how he and Sydney always ended up having such personal conversations. He was a private man. He liked it that way.

“Come on, Cole,” Sydney prompted.

“Why aren't
you
married?” He tried to turn the tables.

Her answer surprised him. “Nobody ever proposed.”

“Did you even want them to?” he asked.

“You mean, have I ever been in love?”

“Yeah.”

“I don't think so.”

“You don't know?” That surprised Cole.

She shook her head. “What about you?”

“I guess not.”

She grinned and bumped him again. “But
you're
not sure?”

He cocked his head, considering her. “You know, it's hard, isn't it? To know for sure.”

“Is that why you never asked anyone.”

“Nah. Never got that far. Truth is, they all left me once they got to know me.”

She tipped her head back and gave him a hint of that sexy laugh. “No way. You left them.”

He had to squelch an urge to wrap his arm around her. She was just the right height, just the right size, just the right shape for his arms.

Instead he shook his head. “I'm a bit of a selfish jerk deep down inside.”

“No. You're the opposite. Just like I said. You're the one sacrificing to take care of everyone around you.”

They came to the porch and he preceded her up the three steps. “Do you happen to have a degree in psychology?”

“I have a degree in art history.”

“Good.” He pushed open the door and stood to one side. “You can decorate the turret and leave my brain alone.”

She grinned as she walked past him. “Your brain is beginning to fascinate me.”

“I don't want a new house, because I don't need a new house. This is a working ranch, not a Dallas subdivision. Next thing they'll be putting in a pool.”

“I've hit on something here, haven't I?”

“You haven't hit on anything.” His voice came out unexpectedly sharp as he flipped the kitchen lamp.

Her eyes went wide. “I'm sorry.”

Cole swore under his breath. He shook his head and moved toward her. “No. I'm the one who's sorry.” He was falling back on defense mechanisms now.

“It's none of my business,” she said.

“Of course it's not. But we're playing this silly game.” He took a breath. “Ah, Sydney. We should have known it would get complicated.”

She gave him a nod and a hesitant smile, and he found himself easing closer. He inhaled deeply, filling his senses.

Her lips were burgundy in the lamplight. Her emerald eyes were fringed by thick lashes. Her skin was ivory-smooth, flushed from the walk. And the memory of it was indelibly pressed into the nerves of his fingertips.

Unable to stop himself, he smoothed a lock of hair from her forehead.

“Complicated,” he whispered one more time.

Her lips parted, softly, invitingly. He should have known the second he got her alone, he'd give in to the cravings. He cupped her cheeks, pulling her closer. His lips closed over hers and relief roared through his body.

He'd been watching her all day, wanting her all day. She was under his skin and into his brain in a way that he couldn't control.

He kissed her harder, stepping toward her, pressing her back against the door. A bronc had blasted off inside him, and there was nothing he could do but hang on for the ride.

He tipped his head to find a better angle, and she came alive under his hands, all movement and sound and scent.

This was good. This was right. This was more than he'd ever found in any other woman. He stopped thinking about the Thunderbolt. He stopped thinking about Katie. He stopped thinking about plots and plans and deceptions.

There was only Sydney, her taste and her touch.

“Cole,” she breathed, her fingertips tightening on his shoulders.

“I know.” He kissed her eyelids.

“This
is
complicated.”

“This is inevitable.”

She paused for a second. “Maybe.”

“Absolutely.” He slipped his hand under her shirt, skimming across the small of her back. Her skin was sinfully warm, sinfully soft. She was a treasure he hadn't earned and didn't deserve.

“We can stop,” he whispered reassuringly, kissing his way along the crook of her neck. “You say when.”

“Not yet,” she whispered back.

“Thank God,” he sighed.

Her hand inched its way slowly up between them and, one by one, she popped the buttons on his shirt. When the last one gave way, she burrowed inside the fabric.

He kissed the top of her head and rocked her in his arms. He wanted to carry her to his bed, press himself against her—kiss her, talk to her, make love with her, simply breathe the same air. Whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it.

She kissed his chest, her hot tongue flicking out to sear his skin.

He struggled for air as passion commandeered his senses. “We're pushing it,” he warned.

She kissed him again. “Let's push it further.”

He pulled back and gazed down at her. Her lips were swollen, her eyes were slumberous and her hair was tousled out like a halo.

“You want to make love?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

She smoothed her palms up the front of his chest. “You're right. It's inevitable.”

S
ydney held her breath, wondering if Cole might actually refuse.

“I want you
so
bad,” he said instead.

Her breath whooshed out. “You had me worried there for a second, cowboy.”

He shook his head, smoothing back her hair. “Don't you worry. Don't you ever worry.”

Something settled deep inside her and her worries vanished.

Cole had to be the most honest and honorable man she'd ever met. Yeah, he was getting in her way over the Thunderbolt. But he was doing it out of respect for his family.

Unlike the men she'd dated in New York, unlike some of her colleagues and contacts at the museum, everything she'd seen, everything he'd done, told her Cole was a man to be trusted.

She'd missed trust.

She'd missed honor.

She wanted him and he wanted her. It didn't get much more honest than that.

She focused on the feel of his rough palm against her scalp. His eyes burned smoky-blue, and she felt like the most desirable woman in the world. Her lashes grew heavy and she tilted her head into the sensation of Cole.

His palm cupped her face and he kissed her eyes. Her body felt as if it were drifting on air, soaring up to the ceiling. The dying fire gave off a faint, distinct tang. The creek roared over boulders outside the window, and Cole left trails of shooting sparks wherever he touched.

She tasted his salty skin, then she squeezed his hard body tighter and tighter until she was safe and surrounded by his warmth. He lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing. Nobody had ever carried her before. He started to walk, and she was sorry the bedroom was so close.

“Hold me for a minute,” she said when they got there.

His arms flexed. “No problem.”

She sighed against his chest. “You think you could stop time? Right here? Right now?”

“I wish I could.”

“Try really, really hard.”

His chuckle rumbled through her. “I can go slow.”

“Easy for you, maybe.”

“Nope. Not easy at all.”

“But you'd do it for me?”

“I'll do anything for you. Just say the word.”

Let me into your world, she wanted to say. Not just your bed, but your heart and your soul.

But that was impossible. They had here and now, and that was all. She forced a light note into her voice.

“Get naked.”

“Okay. But that might speed things up a little.”

“Or I could get naked.”

“That would be worse.” His voice sounded strangled.

She struggled to push his shirt from his shoulders. “Let's play with fire.”

He slowly lowered her feet to the floor. “Sydney, I've been playing with fire since the first second I laid eyes on you.”

She took a shaky step back and reached for the hem of her T-shirt. He stared down at her with such longing and reverence that a shudder ran straight through her body. She peeled the shirt over her head, gauging his reaction, loving his reaction.

His nostrils flared and his gaze latched onto her lacy bra. Without a word, he shucked his own shirt.

She stared unabashedly at the play of muscles across his chest. “You think we want this so bad, because we know we shouldn't?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “It probably has nothing to do with the way you look, taste, smell or feel.”

“That's it.”

“That's what?”

“The way you smell.”

“It's bad?”

She shook her head, gliding toward him, burying her face in his chest again. “It's good. So good.”

He reached between their bodies and flicked the button on her jeans. “You, too.”

She smiled and went on her toes, kissing his mouth as he lowered her zipper. “Let's not tell anyone,” she said.

“That we made love?”

She shook her head. “The smell secret.”

“You got it.”

He rolled off her pants then got rid of his own. Then he gently pressed her back on the bed, covering her with kisses, whispering words of reverence and encouragement, sending her heart rate soaring and her hormones into overdrive.

His fingertips skimmed her stomach, circling her navel with a featherlight touch that made her breath come in a gasp and her muscles contract. Before she could adjust to the sensation, he bent over her breast, taking one nipple into his mouth, swirling and circling the crest with his tongue.

She moaned, and her hands went to his hair. Sensations rocketed through her body as his teeth raked her tender flesh and his hand began a downward spiral.

This wasn't going to be slow. It was going to be lightning fast if she didn't do something.

“Cole,” she gasped.

“You're delicious,” he answered, fingers dipping lower, increasing the onslaught of sensation.

“Slow…down…” she begged.

She felt his smile. “No way.” He crossed the downy curls and pressed into her in one swift motion.

Her hips came up off the bed, and her hands convulsed against his head. “Cole,” she wailed.

“Go with it,” he said.

“But…”

He moved to look into her eyes, his fingers pulsing in a way that made her world shift to the exquisite touch on her tender, moist flesh. She flexed her hips. He kissed her mouth.

“There's more to come,” he rumbled against her. “I promise.”

She closed her eyes. She was past the point of resisting. Past the point of coherent thought. She was going where he led her, and there was no way to stop it.

Her world roared, then went silent.

They were skin to skin, soul to soul as he eased inside her. True to his word, he took it slow, watching her closely, gauging her desires. Their breathing synchronized as the corner clock ticked away minutes.

A warm rush of sensation crested up from her toes. He smiled and deepened his kiss, increasing his rhythm until her world imploded, the clock's ticks slowed to a crawl and paradise stretched on and on.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, guilt nipping at her conscience. Nobody had ever done that before. No one had ever set aside their own needs to take her to paradise.

As the power of speech returned, she searched his deep eyes, worried that he'd made some stupid, gentlemanly decision against making love. “We're not…uh…stopping, are we?”

He shook his head and brushed a lock of hair from her cheek, shifting so that his big body covered hers. “Oh, sweetheart. We're just getting started.”

He kissed her mouth. His thumb returned to her breast and, against all odds, her desire instantly rallied.

She ran her hands down his back, sliding them onto his taut buttocks and pressing his erection against her stomach, shivering with anticipation. She kissed his harder, swirling her tongue against his.

He opened wide, and she could feel the tension rising in his muscles.

She moaned and wriggled beneath him, shifting her thighs in a clear invitation.

He gasped. “Hey. This is supposed to be the slow part.”

“Fast is fun,” she assured him, shifting again, even more meaningfully this time.

He grabbed her hip with a broad hand and held her still,
pulling back to look into her eyes. “If I go now, I'm going to break a land-speed record.”

“Now,” she said. “I don't care. Now.” Slow had been a stupid idea anyway. Nothing between her and Cole was ever going to be slow.

He flexed his hips and was instantly inside her.

She groaned, nearly melting around his heat.

He buried his hands in her hair, thumbs stroking her temples. His breath came in gasps next to her ear.

She could feel the tension cresting in his steel, hard muscles. Her body tightened and strained and pulsated.

She reached for the comfortor, fisting her hands into the fabric as their rhythm increased.

He repeated her name, over and over again. Then his hands found hers, covered hers, their fingers entwining as the world exploded into black and time ceased to exist.

Cole kissed her damp brow. “You okay?”

She sighed, sinking into his incredibly soft bed. “I don't think okay is exactly the right word.”

“You hurt?”

“No. It's fantastic. Fantastic is the right word.”

He chuckled low in her ear, easing most of his weight off her. “You give me heart failure all the time, you know that?”

 

“You're pushing things too fast,” said Kyle as he tapped the remainder of the glass from a broken window in the toolshed.

Cole set a new pane on the ground, leaning it against the wall of the shed before he retrieved a hammer from the toolbox.

Kyle didn't know the half of how fast they'd pushed things. Cole had never done that before—made love after only two days.

“I think we're doing fine,” he said, strapping on a leather belt and dumping a handful of nails into the pouch.

Kyle whacked at a stubborn corner of glass and it tinkled into jagged pieces. “First you're necking on the lawn, then you bring her home after midnight.”

A grin split Cole's face. “Will you listen to yourself? You sound like her father.”

“I'm just saying, Katie's not going to buy it if you don't slow it down.”

Cole moved up to the shed wall and dug his claw hammer into the window frame. One by one, the finishing nails popped out. “It's a compromise. Sydney's on a deadline with the Thunderbolt.”

“You're worried about her deadline? This from a guy who was willing to throw her off the property two days ago?”

“I'm getting to know her now. And I didn't realize her job was on the line.”

Kyle stopped, fixing his attention on Cole. “She told you her job was on the line?”

“Yeah.”

Kyle glared at him impatiently.

“What?”

“Cole. What are you doing?”

Had Kyle guessed what had happened last night? Was it that obvious?

“I'm pretending to fall for Sydney,” he said with exaggerated patience, trying to gauge his brother's expression.

“You sure about that?”

“I'm positive about that. What are you suggesting?”

Kyle whacked the glass again. “I'm suggesting you watch yourself.”

Cole nearly choked on that one. “Hang on. This was
your
idea, little brother.”

“Yeah.” Kyle tugged his leather work gloves from his back pocket. “And I may have been wrong about that.”

“Wrong? Hello? What did I miss?”

“She could be playing you,” said Kyle, settling his fingers in the grooves.

“Playing me how? She's been up front and honest about everything.” Unlike him and Kyle who were pulling one over on Katie.

“Has she?”

“Yes!”

Kyle brushed shards of glass from the sill. “Think about it, Cole. She's getting exactly what she came for.”

“Uh, yeah. That was the deal.”

“The deal was Katie would think Sydney fell for you. But now
you
think Sydney's falling for you.”

“No, I don't,” Cole snapped.

“Yes, you do. And what the hell are the odds of that?”

Cole hadn't honestly thought about the odds last night. But then, he didn't think Sydney was falling for him, either. Not really. It was more a chemical thing. A very powerful chemical thing.

Not that he could tell Kyle he'd slept with Sydney. How suspicious would that look?

“It's under control,” he said to Kyle.

“You telling me you're not falling for her?”

“We're faking it for Katie.”

“You and I shared a room for fifteen years, Cole. Quite frankly, you're not that good an actor.”

“So, what are you suggesting? I call it off? Kick her out?”

“I'm just suggesting you watch your back. Don't trust her too far too soon.”

“Fine.”

“I'm serious.”

“I said fine.”

“Just think about the possibilities.”

Cole dug in on the upper frame. “What part of
fine
didn't you understand?”

He would think about the possibilities. He was thinking about the possibilities. Because he didn't know Sydney.

Yeah, he felt as though he knew her. But she had an agenda, and that agenda included getting him to the altar.

What he'd interpreted as sweet, sexy vulnerability, could have been cold, calculated manipulation. Maybe she was hot for him, or maybe she was playing to his ego.

As bad as it sucked, Kyle had a point. What
were
the odds of a woman like Sydney wanting to sleep with a man like Cole after only two days?

 

Katie had offered Sydney the use of Kyle's office phone to contact the museum. Sydney's heart thumped in her chest as she dialed Gwen Parks's number. Saying it out loud was going to make it real.

“Gwen, here,” came her friend's voice over the phone line.

“Hey, Gwen. It's Sydney.”

“Hey, Sydney.” There was a smile in Gwen's voice. “How's the hunt going?”

Sydney took a deep breath. “Well. I found it.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. “Define ‘it.'”

“The Thunderbolt of the North.”

Gwen squealed and Sydney jerked the phone away from her ear.

“You actually found it? Where are you? Where is it? What happened?”

“I'm in Texas.”

Another silence.

“Who'd have thought,” said Sydney.

“Did you bring it over from Europe?”

“It's been here the whole time.”

“Oh, wow. When are you coming back?”

Sydney lowered her voice. “Not right away. It's complicated. Can I get you started on the show?”

“Without you?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course. But you
do
have the Thunderbolt, right?”

“It's in a lawyer's office in Wichita Falls. But don't tell a soul. Bradley Slander is still gunning for me, and I don't want him getting wind of this until it's a done deal.”