Once they were inside the park Bay asked, “Isn’t there a store at the Rio Grande Village?”
“What is it you need?”
“Chocolate.”
“It’s a hundred degrees in the shade,” he said. “Chocolate is going to melt.”
“Well, actually, it isn’t chocolate I need. It’s something else. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”
“What?”
“Tampax.”
He eyed her sideways. “Why didn’t you bring some from home? Or pick some up at the safeway?”
She flushed. “I didn’t think of it. Not that it’s any of your business, but my periods aren’t regular.”
He made a disgusted sound. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to bring you along.
When Bay was done she looked down at herself, dressed in a plain white bra, torn bikini underwear, and cowboy boots. “I feel like I’m dressed for the midnight show at the Crazy Horse Saloon,” she muttered.
Her mouth went dry when she looked at Owen, who was left wearing cowboy boots and black Calvin Klein’s. The knit cotton underwear hugged him lovingly from waist to thighs. He was a female’s fantasy come to life.
They stared at each other, enjoying what they saw. And realizing just how close they’d come to losing their lives.
“You look good,” he said.
Every day is precious. And like is too damned short!”
Ren hadn’t forgotten the heart attack that had nearly killed Blackjack two years before. “Are you all right?” she asked, laying her hand on his heart.
“My heart will be fine. So long as you don’t break it.
What’s your greatest regret?” she asked.
He turned to look at her, then focused his eyes on the windshield in front of him. “You.”
She felt an ache in her chest. “That you admitted you loved me? Or that you took me with you?”
“Both.”
“Will it help if I say I’m in love with you?”
He shot another quick look in her direction, but a sudden gust of wind hit, and he had to focus on sideslipping the plane.
When it was steady again, he focused piercing gray eyes on her and asked, “Are you in love with me?”
“I think so.
She slipped into the shadows and waited, like a she-wolf, for her quarry.
Bay caught her breath when Owen Blackthorne stepped into the cool night air. He was close enough to touch. His shaggy black hair looked rumpled, as though he’d shoved both hands through it in agitation. When he started to move off the porch, Bay reached out and grasped his sleeve.
A second later she was slammed back against the wall, a powerful male hand at her throat choking her. She could feel the heat of him, the solid maleness of him. And panicked. She clawed at Owen’s flesh with her nails and drove her knee upward toward his genitals. Her thrust her upraised knee aside, and the full weight of his over-six-foot frame shoved hard against her from shoulders to thighs.
Bay froze, staring up at him in mute horror. Her body trembled in shock. She tried to speak, but there was no air to be had beneath the crushing pressure of his grip on her throat.
“What the hell . . .?” He released her throat and grabbed her arms to yank her into the narrow stream of light from the kitchen doorway.
She gasped a breath of air, coughed, then gasped another, pressing a shaky hand to her injured throat. She wrenched to free herself, but he let her go without a struggle and took a wary step back. She rubbed her arms where he’d held her, wishing she’d approached him more directly.
“What are you doing out here, Mizz Creed?” His voice was clipped but controlled. The violence she’d felt in his touch was still there in his eyes, which glittered with hostility.
“It’s Dr. Creed,” she rasped, glaring back at him.
He lifted a black brow. “Well, Dr. Creed.”
She opened her mouth to say I need your help. But the words wouldn’t come. There was nothing wrong with her voice. She just hated the thought of asking a Blackthorne for anything.
“I haven’t got all night,” he said. “There’s an emergency at the barn—”
“Ruby’s foal has already been delivered safely,” she said. “I made up that story because I wanted to speak privately with you.
If you know anything,” he said. “If you can give us any help finding—”
“The truth is, I can help you find those mines.” Bay couldn’t believe the enormous lie that had just come out of her mouth. She took a deep breath and added, “But you have to take me with you to the Big Bend.”
“I work alone.”
“Then we’re finished here,” Bay said, turning to leave.
Owen caught her before she’d taken two steps. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what you know.”
“I’ll tell you everything when we get to the Big Bend.”
“I can’t take you with me, Dr. Creed. It’s too dangerous. If you help me out, I’ll make sure your brother gets a chance to tell his story in court.”
Bay gave an unladylike snort. “I don’t believe you.”
She was surprised at the anger that flared in his eyes before he said, “I’m not in the habit of lying.”
“I’ve never met an honest Blackthorne,” she said. “And I sure as hell don’t trust you.”
“I ought to arrest you for obstruction,” he muttered.
“Go ahead!” she challenged. “Then I can tell them how you manhandled me.” She glanced towards his tight grasp on her arm, then put her fingertips to her aching throat, and said, “I’m sure I’ll have the bruises to prove it.”
He looked down in surprise to where his fingers were clamped on her forearm, as though he’d had no notion of how tightly he was holding her, and abruptly he let her go. She rubbed her arm and said, “When do we leave?”
“You wouldn’t be able to keep up with me.”
“Of course I would,” she replied. “I’m incredibly fit.”
She felt her stomach flutter as his eyes raked her from legs to belly to breasts . . . and lingered there appreciatively. His heavy-lidded gaze lifted to her mouth, and she nervously slid her tongue across her lips. She felt a quiver of anticipation as his eyes locked on hers, hot and needy.
“You can’t come with me,” he said at last. “You’d be a . . . dangerous distraction.
Good night, Owe,” she whispered.
“Good night, Red. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
“You would have to mention bugs,” she muttered.
Owen laughed.
I’m wondering what it would be like to be kissed by you.”
“Let’s not go there,” he said. “I don’t want to mess up our friendship.”
“It wouldn’t,” she said, grinning suddenly. “I’d like to know how it feels. I mean, as an experiment.”
“Put the wrong chemicals together, and they explode.”
She frowned. “Are you saying you don’t think I’d like it? Or that I would?”
“It doesn’t matter, because I’m not going to kiss you.”
She looked up at him shyly, from beneath lowered lashes, and gave him a cajoling smile. “Just one teeny, weeny little kiss?”
He laughed at her antics. Inside his stomach, about a million butterflies had taken flight. “Don’t play games with me, Summer.” He said it with a smile, but it was a warning.
One she ignored.
She crooked her finger and wiggled it, gesturing him toward her. “Come here, and give me a little kiss.”
She was doing something sultry with her eyes, something she’d never done before. She’d turned on some kind of feminine heat, because he was burning up just looking at her. “Stop this,” he said in a guttural voice.
She canted her hip and put her hand on it, drawing his attention in that direction, then slid her tongue along the seam of her lips to wet them. “I’m ready, bad boy. What are you waiting for?”
His heart was beating a hundred miles a minute. He was hot and hard and ready. And if he touched her, he was going to ruin everything.
“I’m not going to kiss you, Summer.”
He saw the disappointment flash in her eyes. Saw the determination replace it.
“All right. I’ll kiss you.”
He could have stopped her. He was the one with the powerful arms and the broad chest and the long, strong legs.
But he wanted that kiss.
“Fine,” he said. “Don’t expect fireworks. I’m only doing this because we’re friends.” And if she believed that, he had some desert brushland he could sell her.
Suddenly, she seemed uncertain, and he felt a pang of loss. Silly to feel it so deeply, when kissing Summer had been the last thing he’d allowed himself to dream about. Although, to be honest, he hadn’t always been able to control his dreams. She’d been there, all right. Hot and wet and willing.
He made himself smile at her. “Don’t worry, kid. It was a bad idea. To be honest, I value our friendship too much—”
She threw herself into his arms, clutching him around the neck, so he had to catch her or get bowled over. “Whoa, there,” he said, laughing and hugging her with her feet dangling in the air. “It doesn’t matter that you’ve changed your mind about wanting that kiss. I’m just glad to be your friend.”
She leaned back in his embrace, searching his eyes, looking for something. Before he could do or say anything to stop her, she pressed her lips softly against his.
His whole body went rigid.
“Billy,” she murmured against his lips. “Please. Kiss me back.”
“Summer, I don’t—”
She pressed her lips against his again, damp and pliant and inviting. He softened his mouth against hers, felt the plumpness of her upper lip, felt the open, inviting seam, and let his tongue slide along the length of it.
“Oh.” She broke the kiss and stared at him with dazed eyes. Eyes that sought reason where there was none.
He wanted to rage at her for ruining everything. They could never be friends now. Not now that he’d tasted her, not now that she’d felt his want and his need. He lowered his head to take her mouth, to take what he’d always wanted.
Bay caressed his smooth cheek. “You shaved. It feels soft.”
He caught her hand and kissed her palm. “Go,” he said, opening the bathroom door again. “Before I change my mind and you end up making love to a man who smells like a bear.
Stay put,” he said. “I don’t want you setting off any explosives that’ll get us both killed.”
“Let me go with you.”
“I don’t want you getting hurt, Red.”
There was something about the sound of his voice that gave her pause. “Don’t tell me you care.”
He ruffled her hair as though she were four instead of twenty-five. “All right, I won’t. Just stay put.
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