“Trust me, it’s not on purpose.”She grasped his upper arm for balance as she maneuvered the stick gently between the thorns stuck into Ry’s hip.His biceps tensed as the cactus moved, agitating the needles.“You can swear if you want,” she offered.
“I appreciate that,” he said through clenched teeth.
“I’ll wedge the stick in just a little more, and then I’ll try to knock off the cactus in one movement.”
“Sounds peachy.”He sucked in his breath.“You know, in New York, I’m a capable kind of guy.I can hail cabs and—ouch—choose good restaurants and anticipate a bull market better than most men.You’d be impressed.”
“I’m impressed now.”With a quick jerk, she separated the cactus from his jeans.
“God bless America, but that smarts!”
“I know.”She studied the dirt-stained denim.“Hold still.There are a couple of thorns I can probably pull out with my fingers, and that may be it.”
“Did you mean that?”
“Mean what?”Using her fingernails like tweezers, she gripped one of the two remaining barbs and pulled.
“Sh-sugar!About being impressed.”
Had she said that?She’d been concentrating so hard on getting the cactus out of him, she must have spoken without thinking.Gradually, she became aware of her fingers closed securely over his arm, her face inches from his, their bodies hunched together.She glanced at him and found him studying her intently.Her breathing quickened.“One more thorn.”
“You know, all along I’ve thought we couldn’t become involved because we would be business associates.”
“Exactly,” she said, returning her attention to his hip and the last white needle that had pricked through the denim into his skin.She kept her gaze focused on that needle as she gripped it with her fingernails.She must not allow her gaze to wander to his thighs or worse, to the bulge between them.It was like telling herself not to look over the edge of a precipice.She couldn’t resist, and a hollow ache began deep within her.
“But thanks to a comment from your sister, I started thinking about how different the rules are out here,” he continued.“For instance, in New York, its manly to swear, even in front of women.But a true cowboy doesn’t swear in front of women, does he?”
Even his voice, so close to her ear, was an aphrodisiac.Freddy prayed her trembling fingers would work well enough to pull out the last barb.“You’re right.Most cowboys don’t swear in front of women.”
“And another thing I’ve noticed.In New York, everybody’s scrambling for status and prestige.Out here, nobody wants to lord it over anybody.With the possible exception of Eb Whitlock.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.Eb’s not so bad.”
Ry made a dismissive sound deep in his throat.“He’s probably the only person who would care if we were lovers.”
She pulled too quickly and the needle broke off in the middle, leaving only a stub.“Rats!”
“Now what?”
There was one more thing she could do, and it was better than having him shed his pants right now, after that remark about becoming lovers.“I’ll use my teeth.”
He chuckled.“Oh, Freddy.”
“Be quiet, Ry, before I lose my nerve.”
“The day you lose your nerve, they’ll have to send a national news team to cover it.What do you think of my theory?”
“I think it’s dangerous.”She took off her hat and laid it beside her.
“I want you, Freddy.And don’t pretend you don’t want me.It’s too late for that.”
“All I want is to get this last thorn out.”Drawing a deep breath, she marked the spot with two fingers spread on either side of it.Then she leaned down and located the blunt needle with her tongue.The scent of denim, dust and potent male filled her nostrils.Warm rivers of desire coursed through her as she fastened her teeth on the end of the barb.With a twist of her head, she pulled it out and rose to a kneeling position beside him, the needle in her teeth.
“Here,” he said softly, reaching to take it.His fingers brushed her mouth and his eyes darkened.He dropped the needle to the ground.She couldn’t seem to move, couldn’t summon even the faintest resistance as he cupped his hand behind her head and urged her closer.
“You want more than that, Freddy.”His lips met hers in soft supplication.All the reasons that she shouldn’t be doing this abandoned her with the first touch of those persuasive lips.The slightest feathering of his tongue gained him access to her mouth as she moaned in surrender.Cradling her head in both hands, he tasted her thoroughly.His kiss painted images of skin sliding against skin, of limbs entwined, of bodies thrusting as two become one.
Desire streaked through her like fire through dry brush.She’d chastised herself about responding so readily in the pool, but this was worse.She wanted him with a ferocity that urged her to pull him down to the dusty floor of the desert, rid herself of her restricting clothes and open her thighs to receive all he offered.
