Chapter Five

Rebecca

It’s hard to describe how amazing it is to see Will’s property from the back of a four-wheeler. We climb a ridge that takes us high above the ranch and when we reach the top, we roll to a stop and he turns off the engine. Wind buffets us and whips through my hair. I should have pulled it back with more than a ribbon, which I lost the first thirty seconds of the ride.

This is fun. Reckless. But not like kissing him in the moonlight. I’m relieved he acted like that was no big deal. After we get off, he takes me to a spot that overlooks a river. From here the water looks like a strand of silver, winding through the low valley. Cattle graze on the banks. Dotting the valley are groves of trees, dark splashes of green set against the pastureland.

In the distance, I see a dark stretch of asphalt. “You have a landing strip?”

His mouth tenses. “I do.”

“Do you fly your own plane?”

“Not anymore.”

He’d been so relaxed on the four-wheeler, laughing at me when I’d shrieked in terror, or yelped with surprise. He’d taken wicked pleasure at my fright, but his good mood vanishes and is replaced with something heavy.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry, Will.”

He shrugs off my apology. “It’s fine. I used to fly. But I was in a crash a few years ago.”

I have a lump in my throat. I’m sure he’s telling me something he doesn’t like to discuss and it dawns on me that he’s referring to the accident that left his scars.

“My father asked me to get my pilot’s license so he and my mother could get back whenever they wanted. They liked to take little trips to San Francisco or Santa Fe. He wanted to take her to Aspen for her birthday. All of us were going to go. My brother-in-law and sister, my parents and me. A jet clipped us as we waited for take-off.

“Will…” My chest feels like an elephant is standing on it and I’m sick, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut.

“My dad got out with Ben. My mother, sister and her husband were knocked out. I got my mom free and almost out when the jet caught fire. It exploded a moment later, killing my sister and her husband. My mom and I got burned pretty badly. She died a day later. My father told me he wouldn’t make it without her. I barely recalled him saying that, but he had a heart attack and was gone that night.”

I want to wrap my arms around him to comfort him somehow, but he’s like a stone pillar. Hard and unyielding and resolute. I’m not sure what to do so I let the moment pass.

In the days before I came out to the ranch, I’d researched his business dealings and a little about his personal life. I learned he rarely left the ranch and there were a few articles about a family tragedy, but I never read any details. Even though the story hurts my heart, I’m glad he told me.

“I hate to look in the mirror. The scars take me back to that day and remind me of what was lost.”

What possesses me I can’t really say, but I reach up to cup his jaw. Somehow, I’m sure he’s never let anyone touch him there. “You could look at them a different way.”

His gaze darkens. “How so?”

“That you survived.”

The hard look in his eyes fades and he grasps my wrist, turning to kiss my palm. A rush of warmth floods my senses. Overwhelmed, I try to tug my hand free, but he keeps hold of me. He pulls me closer, lifts my chin and presses his lips to mine.

Last night I kissed him, but now, he’s the one in control. I shouldn’t. Deep in my heart I know, but I can’t stop. Not after what he told me, and not when he holds me in his arms.

His kiss is soft, gentle, as if he’s testing the waters, wondering if I’ll allow him to kiss me here. Now. I sink into his arms and he deepens the kiss, tracing my lips with his tongue, coaxing them apart. I submit to him, immediately. Angling his head, he takes the sweet kiss to a new level of heat, stroking me with his tongue. Captive, I’m powerless to resist.

I’ve been kissed. Twice. Or so I thought. Now I realized I’ve never been kissed. He cradles my face in his powerful hands, holding me right where he wants me as he embarks on a slow, leisurely seduction of my lips. I gasp at the abrasion of his stubbled jaw against my skin.

There are a thousand reasons why this is a terrible idea, but none springs to mind. My thoughts whirl. Vaguely I’m aware of his scent, a masculine trace that unravels my defenses. Each indecent kiss makes my body melt a little more. Pure desire pools in my core.

When he presses me close, the hard, enticing pressure of his erection burns my body like a hot brand. He just bared his soul to me and I want more. With shock and not a little dismay, I realize in a single blinding instant, that I want it all. From a man I just met. I don’t even know who I am anymore.

I pull away. “I have to stop, Will. I can’t. It’s too much.”

When I try to free myself of his grasp, he wraps me up in his arms. His body is steel. His power makes me weak but he doesn’t try to kiss me again. He just holds me.

“I wanted to kiss you the moment I saw you,” he murmurs. “I don’t want to frighten you.”

“I’m not the type of woman you’re probably used to.”

He strokes my tangled hair and laughs. “No, I don’t suppose you are, but I’ve never wanted anything more than to touch you, to show you pleasure.”

I shake my head. “I’m not like that.”

Thank goodness he can’t see my face or else he’d see how mortified my admission leaves me. My face burns with embarrassment. I grab his shirt in my fist and let the words tumble from my lips. “I’ve never had…”

He waits for me to finish, but saying the word has me tongue-tied.

“Sex?”

“Well, no. I’ve never had that either.”

His eyes widen. “You’ve never had an orgasm?”

I shake my head.

He grips my shoulders and stares down at me with a shocked expression. “Never?”

“Don’t make me say anything more about it,” I plead. “You told me something about yourself and I’m telling you something I’ve never told another person. Can we leave it at that? There’s something wrong with me. That’s all.”

He nods, and right then I think maybe he’s not such a sweet guy after all, because his lips are curved with the hint of a smile. I give him a little shove on the shoulder which is about as effective as shoving a barn.

“Shut up,” I tell him, which only serves to make his smile widen.

“I’m going to show you, Rebecca.”

I narrow my eyes.

He lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Let’s forget it for now and get back on the four-wheeler. I’ll show you the spring-fed pools. How would that be? Change of scenery?”

“Yes, fine. Anything.”

He starts the four-wheeler’s engine and gets on and I hop on behind him.

“It might get a little muddy,” he shouts over the combined sound of the wind and engine.

“A little mud never hurt anyone.”

Will drives like the devil is chasing him, or like he’s trying to terrify me. I hold on and close my eyes as we fly down the ridge and tear across the open pasture. My eyes water but my heart thrills at the speed. I love holding him too. His back muscles flex and harden against my chest, and my breasts tighten and ache. I press harder against him, praying he won’t notice. Maybe he’ll assume I’m afraid of falling off the ATV.

He slows the ATV as we descend a narrow path to a dry creek bed. Gunning the engine, he takes us even faster. We cross small patches of mud and drops of dirt hit my face. With my wild hair and mud-spattered face, I’m sure I look a sight. I don’t care. I feel wild and free.

But then we hit some wider stretches of mud and globs of the stuff starts flying around us. I can’t hear anything but the roar of the engine and the wind but I feel his chest rumble with laughter. He’s forced to slow the four-wheeler as he crosses a stretch of muck. When we emerge, he rolls to a stop on top of a stony bank.

He gets off the bike and grins at me. From head to toe, he’s covered with mud. His teeth, brilliantly white, contrast with the filth. His smile transforms his face and demeanor. He’s mischievous and pleased with the joke he’s played on me.

I can only assume I look as bad as he does. The look of wicked delight on his face makes it a pretty sure thing. I shake my head, summon my courage and look down. A layer of mud encases my clothing. I blink and realize even my eyelashes are coated in mud.

“You, Rebecca Bloom, are a dirty, dirty girl.”

His voice is a seductive tone that registers across my tight and aching breasts and makes me slick with wicked desire.

My only response is a weak sound of protest. A whimper of dismay.

“We’re going to go jump in the pool. Come on. It’s warm.”

Without any conscious thought, I get off the bike and follow him to the water.

“We look like swamp creatures, Will.”

“Anyone ever tell you’re a damn sexy swamp creature?”

“Not exactly the look I’m going for.”

Each step feels like I’m carrying twenty extra pounds, which might be true. My ballet flats, a pair I’d splurged on when I got the job, look like mud-caked boots.

He’s unbuttoning his shirt, because I suppose the next thing on the agenda is getting into the water. Of course it is. This is the exact type of thing my grandfather didn’t want me doing. How did the morning come to this?

“What look were you going for, Rebecca?”

“Capable accountant. Or maybe bookkeeper. At this point, I’d take that.”

His laugh is deep with wicked amusement. “Bookkeeper,” he says as if that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

I wipe a swathe of mud from my sleeve and throw it at him. He ducks, laughing harder.

“Take your clothes off and get in this pool,” he commands. “Leave your underwear on if you’re feeling shy.”

He’s got his shirt off and I can hardly tear my eyes from his powerfully muscled chest. His head is covered in mud as are his hands, contrasting bizarrely with his clean, tanned chest. Scars crisscross his chest, but he shows no signs of self-consciousness and that makes me happy. He trusts me. He kicks off his boots and jeans. Standing in nothing more than a pair of boxers, he hooks his thumbs in his waist band and starts a motion, like he’s pulling them down.

“No!” I yelp. “Leave those on.”

He gives a shrug. “All right. Whatever you want, Rebecca. Need some help?”

“No, I’ll manage.”

I turn away and undress, leaving my clothes on a flat rock. It seems absurd to fold them, but habits die hard and I leave my mud-encrusted clothing in a small, pitiful stack. Summoning my courage, I go to the pool and slip into the water. Will has his back to me, to offer me a little privacy, I suppose. Dressed in nothing more than a lacy bra and panties, I feel naked.

The warm water soothes my thoughts. I sink below the surface and run my fingers through my hair. Globs of mud stick to my scalp and tresses. When I’m done, I emerge from the depths to find myself alone in the pool.

“Will?”

“I’m here.”

His voice comes from behind the branches of a weeping willow on the other side of the pool. I swim across and find him at the edge. The willow’s branches droop to the water, forming a curtain around us.

I swim to where he sits on a broad ledge of rock. Not a trace of mud remains on his body. He pulls me between his knees and settles me against his chest. The instant his hands touch my skin, my sensible thoughts scatter like frightened rabbits.

“I just want a few minutes of you right here,” he murmurs next to my ear. “I promise I won’t compromise you.”

His breath fans across my neck, raising goosebumps on my skin. He wraps his arm around my middle and kisses my neck. He wants things from me I shouldn’t give but I want them every bit as much as he does. The dark skin of his hands contrasts with my pale skin.

“I shouldn’t do this with you,” I whisper.

“It’s just a kiss. Nothing more.”

His voice is deep and rough, and travels through my body like he already owns me.

“Beautiful girl. I’m keeping you, Rebecca. You know that, right?”

I don’t understand what he means but right now all I want is to stay with him forever. He could probably convince of me of anything. Gently, he cups my breast, sending firecrackers across my skin. I shudder.

I’ve always been so careful. So cautious. But the person I’ve always been fades from memory and now I’m a woman who can’t control herself. The part that startles me is that I don’t even care. I would trade any letter of recommendation he might write for more of his touch. Without question.

“This sweet body is going to be mine soon,” he growls.

He presses a kiss against my lips and teases me with the tip of his tongue. His kisses make me wild, making me need so much more. I’m at the point of losing all reason and sense when he breaks the kiss.

“Beautiful,” he says again.

“Yes.” I don’t have the strength so say more than that. I’m weak. Helpless. I never expected I would feel so small and vulnerable. I’m grateful that he holds me and doesn’t speak or move. It’s as if he knows me better than I know myself.