Unforgettable: A Loveswept Classic Romance (16 page)

And then it began, the age-old movements of nature that too often meant too little, and this time meant so much. Higher and harder love drove them with its demands, until it shattered with a piercing light, hurling them both into the gentle oblivion.

Reluctantly, Anne surfaced to reality. James’s weight was heavy, yet she felt content. His arms were secure around her, holding her in a way that left her breathless and satisfied. She felt giddy and shy, happy and nervous all at the same time. She had no idea where this would now take her, but she knew she had to trust it—trust James. In some ways she had always trusted him. The impossible had happened … and she was scared to death it wouldn’t last.

He kissed her shoulder and shifted slightly, giving her room to breathe. She sighed, both grateful and disappointed.

“I love you,” he mumbled.

She chuckled. “I love you.”

He nuzzled the soft column of her throat, the curve of her collarbone, the sensitive hollow just under her ear.…

“James.” Her voice was faint. “Philip … Grandmother … They’ll be back soon.”

He glanced at the clock on her bedside table and groaned. “Damn!”

She laughed and lightly smoothed her hands down his back.

“I have a feeling I’m not going to like stolen moments for long,” he said, raising his head.

He knew he should tell her about himself, but something held him back. If this moment were an illusion, he wanted to keep it just a little longer.

In the darkness he sensed more than saw her smile.

“I … this is all so new … and yet it’s not,” she said.

“I know.” He had never thought of her as shy, yet she was now. Anne would always have unexpected facets to her, facets he would delight in finding. He hadn’t meant for this to happen tonight, but he hated the thought of leaving her at this moment. It was the last thing he wanted to do. Feeling her body soft and supple against his was tempting him to steal a few more minutes with her.

“I should go,” he said, tracing his finger around one rosy nipple. It tightened instantly.

“Yes.”

“I love you, Annie.”

“I love you, James.” She ran her palms over his shoulders and down his back in an exquisite caress.

He shuddered at her touch and kissed her … and kissed her again.…

Anne’s sleep was slowly and relentlessly penetrated by two things. There was a horse sitting on her chest, squeezing the breath from her. And voices were chattering away, not close but close enough to be annoying.

Then she realized the horse wasn’t a horse, but James lying on top of her, and the voices belonged to her grandmother and her son.

Lettice and Philip had arrived home from Maida’s
dinner, and James was lying naked in her bed with naked her. The combination was unthinkable.

“Oh my God!” she moaned, pushing and shoving James to wake him up.

“Wha’ the …” he began in a groggy voice, fighting her hands.

“Shut up!” she said, clamping her fingers over his mouth. He stiffened, then froze with her when the voices outside the room grew louder. In silent fascination they both watched the thin sliver of hallway light that seeped under the bedroom door.

“… but his car’s here, Grandmother Lettice.”

“Yes, dear. I did see it.” Lettice’s voice was stronger and louder than usual. “He’s probably with your mother in the foaling stable. Remember how busy she expected to be this evening? I’m sure Mr. Otis is grateful for another pair of hands.”

Giggles surfaced from nowhere, and Anne tried desperately to suppress them. This wasn’t funny—especially if they were caught. To her horror, James’s shoulders began to shake with amusement. The giggles were infectious.

“Well, maybe,” Philip said, his voice dubious. Some of the light was blocked from under the doorway. They were right outside. “Maybe we ought to check and see if Mom’s sleeping.”

Anne fought back a scream of panic. Please, she thought, do Mom a big favor and don’t check on her.

“But, Philip, if she were asleep in her room, James’s car wouldn’t be here. Besides, it’s very late. We stayed way past both our bedtimes tonight. I know you’re really tired.”

Anne could hear her son yawn as if on cue.

“See?” Lettice chided. “You just get yourself right into bed, young man.…”

The voices drifted down the hall, and light reappeared fully under the door. James lifted her hand from his mouth as they both relaxed.

“That was close,” he whispered, sitting up. He pulled her up next to him, his arm around her bare back. “I’m sorry, I fell asleep.”

“It’s not your fault, James,” she whispered back. “I’ll have to sneak you out of the house.”

She began to giggle again, like a nervy teenager. She felt like one.

“Shh!” James hushed her. Near silent laughter erupted from him.

“Stop that, or we really will get caught.” She was grinning in spite of her words.

“Mmmm.” He kissed her cheek. “Good thing Lettice headed Philip off about coming in here. I don’t think he’s ready for a lesson in the birds and the bees.”

Especially one involving his mother, Anne thought, her stomach queasy at the notion. If James were her husband, it would be different.…

She stopped herself when she realized what she was considering. She didn’t know what the future held, and she wouldn’t hurt herself by anticipating it.

They waited in near silence for the sounds of the others to gradually quiet into sleep. James’s hands wandered upon occasion, much to Anne’s aggravation—and pleasure. Okay, she decided when his thumb lingered on her nipple, slowly rubbing the nub to life. She wasn’t perfect, and she was damn glad of it.

Long safe minutes later they were presentable and tiptoeing down the stairs. Tibbs met them at the bottom, a tail-wagging co-conspirator rather than a barking menace. In the dark kitchen she
opened the back door, wrapping her satin robe tighter around her against the chilly spring air. Tonight had been inevitable, and yet it all happened so fast. Being with James, hearing him say he loved her, felt like it had happened to someone else. Doubts pushed at her consciousness. She shoved them away, praying this was reality.

“I hate the thought of going,” he said, adjusting the mandarin collar under her chin.

She nodded. “This can’t happen again, James.”

“What do you mean, this can’t happen again?” he demanded in a low voice.

His anger was unmistakable, and she quickly added, “I mean here in the house. Not with Philip. I love you, James, but I have to set an example for my son.”

“Of course. That wasn’t what I meant.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I thought you were talking about stopping this cold and not seeing me again.”

“It would be like trying to stop a hurricane,” she whispered.

“Good.” He pulled her against him and kissed her, his mouth rekindling the hot fire. Finally, he lifted his head. “It better be like trying to stop a hurricane. In fact, I’m depending on it.”

She didn’t understand his words.

“Anne …” He let go of her and cleared his throat. “Anne, there’s something about me you don’t know.”

He sounded so ominous, she was almost afraid to find out. “What?”

At first he was silent, which only heightened her anxiety level. Finally he said, “Oh, hell. I’m dyslexic, Anne.”

“You’re … That’s a learning disability, right?”

“Yes. I’ve overcome it … except when I’m tired. Then I have a tendency to mix up letters.”

“Oh.” Relief washed through her. “You made it sound as if you were a mass murderer or something.” She gazed at him, frowning. He looked so anxious that she wondered if there was more to confess than a childhood problem. “Is there anything else?”

“You don’t seem … concerned.”

Puzzled, she said, “I didn’t mean to sound unconcerned. Of course I’m concerned. It must have been very frustrating when you were a child. I know, I see Philip’s frustrations. But it’s just that you sounded so … I don’t know … like you were about to tell me something horrible about yourself. Dyslexia isn’t horrible; it’s a learning disability.”

He grinned at her. “Very true. I just didn’t know if you knew about it.”

“James—”

“Never mind.” He kissed her soundly on the lips. “It’s getting cold. I’ll be here first thing in the morning.”

She smiled. For once she would be ecstatically happy to see him first thing in the morning. Then her happiness faded.

“What happened to that smile?” he asked.

“I’d forgotten about Battle Cry and why you were coming so early every day.”

“Good.” He grinned when she lifted her chin. “A little temporary forgetfulness won’t hurt either of us. The worst thing is being vigilant when nothing’s happening. Neither of us needs ulcers.”

She nodded.

“We’ll resolve it one way or another, I promise.”
He kissed her again. “Hell, I don’t want to go at all.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“But I must …”

She nodded, not trusting her voice to give the proper answer.

“We’ll have to work on this.”

He kissed her one last time and then was gone.

Sighing, Anne shut the door and slowly climbed the stairs. James was quite right. They’d have to work on it.

When she was finally back in bed, she stared at the opposite wall before turning out the nightlight. Her thoughts were a jumble of hope and happiness, and she was terrified she’d discover in the morning that this night with James had been a dream.

Something on her bureau drew her attention, and she focused on the set of cloisonné brushes next to her jewelry box. She didn’t own a set of cloisonné brushes.

Immediately, she rolled away from the odd sight and turned out the light. She didn’t care where the brushes came from, just as long as they were there in the light of day.

Like James.

He was there before she took her daily ride.

James grinned as he watched Anne slip out the front door before seven in the morning. She looked young and innocent with her jeans and denim jacket, her silky dark hair in a French braid. Underneath those ordinary clothes was the temptress only he knew. He got out of the car and
quietly shut the door. She smiled at him, and he decided it was about to be a beautiful day.

“Am I too early?” he asked.

“Right on time.” She stepped into his arms, and he kissed her.

“I love you.”

“I love you,” she murmured.

He smiled. A guy could really get used to this.

“Did you sleep?” she asked.

“My bed was lonely. Although if you had been there, I wouldn’t have slept at all.”

“Sex maniac.”

“Only with you.”

“Good.” She pulled away from him.

He made a face at her. “Annie, you’re supposed to throw yourself at me when I profess my fidelity and make sexual innuendos, not walk away.”

“I’m saving my attack for later.”

“It better be a good one,” he muttered.

“Promise.” She patted his arm. “Come on, let’s make our usual morning rounds, otherwise people might wonder.”

“Do you care?” he asked seriously.

“No. And yes.” She looked worried. “I—I want to get used to it first … and then there’s Philip.”

“Okay. I understand.” He did understand how she felt. He was disappointed, too, that she didn’t want to shout it from the rooftops. “Let’s go.”

The farm was already up and awake, the horses rising with the dawn and the humans following suit. Anne checked in at the mares’ stables, then the foaling stable. James said not a word, only grinned, when the foaling manager commented on the quiet night. Anne blushed.

James found it a pleasure and a torture to walk next to her. He would have thought the awareness
between them would have been assuaged with lovemaking. Instead, it had been heightened. He wanted desperately to love her again, and resented that they couldn’t. And doubts, irrational as they were, were growing. Maybe she didn’t want to. Maybe she was having second thoughts.

Clenching his fists, he realized he’d never been more unsure of himself than now. Her reaction to his confession of dyslexia had bothered him increasingly during the night. He had hoped for acceptance, and she had accepted him. Then why was he feeling so deflated now?

“You’re quiet,” she said.

He mentally shook away the disturbing thoughts. “Just daydreaming. There is a topic I think we should discuss—the fact that I have this overwhelming urge to drag you into the nearest empty building.”

She glanced away, then looked back with longing in her eyes, and he knew she felt the same way he did. Contentment ran through him. She didn’t want their separation any more than he did.

“We’ll have to think of how to sneak around all these obstacles,” he said, taking her hand.

She tried to pull her hand away. “James. Philip—”

He squeezed her fingers gently, but refused to let go. She eventually relaxed.

“I know,” he said. “Philip. I promise we’ll be”—he leaned over and whispered—“discreet.”

“Oh, brother.” But she was laughing. “And what do you know about being discreet?”

“Not a thing,” he said innocently.

She made a face at him.

“The morning fog’s burning off,” he added, changing the subject.

“Nice way of avoiding ‘discreet,’ ” she said.

“Thank you.” Fenced-in pastures sprawled in either direction as they walked toward the stallion barn. “This place is as beautiful as its owner.”

She ducked her head. “Thank you.”

The tension, dispelled by the teasing, easy conversation, was returning. Desire clamored inside him, and he fought it back by looking around at the peaceful scene before him. Several horses and foals galloping along the fence in a far meadow caught his attention. He pointed at them. “It’s incredible to see magnificent creatures like those enjoying the morning. Funny, one looks a lot like my horse. I didn’t know you had another horse that resembled Battle Cry so closely.”

Anne stopped dead and uttered a barnyard curse. He stared at her in shock.

“That’s because I don’t!” she exclaimed. “That
is
Battle Cry! He’s in with some mares.”

They both started running.

“We can’t catch him with our bare hands!” Anne shouted. “Go get help from the barn. I’ll try to distract him from—”