“Nope,” she answered, finishing the task so that the fire snapped and popped at her, shooting sparks straight up the chimney and warming her nose. “He’s a little older. And much more bowlegged.”
Jake swayed a little on the couch, his hand instinctively on the ribs that must have reminded him not to move so quickly.
“Where is he?” he grated, rubbing the confusion from his face with his other hand.
Amanda wished she could simply enjoy the sight of that firelight on his chest and shoulders, still bare above the afghan where it had slid in his sudden movement.
“I imagine he’s at his place, where he belongs,” she mused instead, turning deliberately back to the fire so Jake didn’t catch her lie. “Probably asleep or something.”
Jake shook his head. “Bitsy looked like she was going to go tonight. I should check.”
That brought her right around and to her feet. “No,” she said. “You shouldn’t. You should get the rest of the first good night’s sleep you’ve had in a while. You should let that codeine make you feel better and then have a decent breakfast before going back out to that barn tomorrow.”
Jake looked up at her with the kind of expression he probably reserved for uninformed customers who made unreasonable demands. “Horses usually foal at night, Amanda,” he informed her. “And, like I said, foals are an important part of my business.”
Amanda set her hands on her hips, hoping Jake didn’t catch her deception. “And would Clovis come right up here the minute there was any kind of trouble?”
Jake actually retreated to a rueful grin. “Yeah. He would.”
“Do you feel better?”
He pushed his hair back off his forehead. “Did I fall asleep on you?”
Amanda’s answering smile was brash. “I promise not to tell anybody.’’
Jake’s gaze dropped a bit, his expression a little bashful. “I’m just so...tired.” He was rubbing at his face again.
Amanda once again took matters into her own hands. Stepping up to him, she reached down for that hand and tugged. “Come on, Jake. It’s time you went to bed.”
Jake looked up at her, his eyes glittering in the firelight. “It’s cold in there,” he protested in a husky voice.
Amanda did her best to ignore the sparks that seemed to explode from the rasp of a callused hand. “You have a big down comforter,” she said. “Besides, I can’t go to bed with you on the couch, because I keep worrying that you’re going to fall off.”
His face folded fractionally into amusement. “You wouldn’t fit with me on the couch, anyway,” he retorted. “Unless we really worked hard at it.”
Amanda immediately blushed, millimeters away from yanking her hand back and escaping. “You know what I mean.”
Jake squeezed Amanda’s hand, and the sparks multiplied, skittering up her arm. “Lee’s bed doesn’t have a comforter. You’ll freeze in there.”
She shrugged, her eyes down. “I’ll sleep here.”
Jake slowly climbed to his feet alongside her so that his chest was inches from her nose. His bare chest. His glistening, hair-roughened chest that she’d been fantasizing about ever since she’d first seen it.
“Then I couldn’t get any sleep worrying that you’d fall off,” he protested.
Amanda looked up, expecting to see taunting, maybe invitation. What she saw was darker, harder. What she saw in those shimmering blue eyes was the same throb of desire she felt in her own chest. The struggle to keep distance, to prevent mistakes. The slow topple of barriers that were far more formidable than hers.
“Amanda...”
It was a sigh, a groan. It was promise and plea. Amanda trembled, now in his grasp, her body suddenly raw and anxious, her heart racing, her chest on fire. She looked at him, disheveled from sleep, haggard from pain and struggle, flayed raw with loneliness. She heard the harsh cant of his breath, the echo of his heart, so close to her lips. She felt the fine tremor of his control, suddenly as tenuous as hers.
She’d meant to find this moment since she’d first seen him, she knew that. She’d peeled away his defenses and crept close for a peek inside him, knowing that whatever it was that made up Jake Kendall sang to her the age-old song of attraction, of commitment, of affection. She’d steeled herself for that first contact, that kiss that had sparked such a terrible yearning in her. She’d harried him, instinctively seeking more. Seeking this. And still, still she wasn’t sure if it was right.
It might not be right. But it was what she wanted. And she’d known it deep inside for a long time.
Amanda hadn’t anticipated what kind of lover Jake would be. She’d just trusted that hint of vulnerability in his eyes. Now, hands entwined, gazes locked, she was afraid. There was incredible gentility in this man. But there was fierce need, a need so great it could consume her.
It consumed her. It swept over her with the speed of his first kiss, his mouth slanting across hers in a harsh, groaning union that left them wrapped in each other’s arms. It ignited her, whipping up flames that seared at her, that propelled her to answer Jake’s intensity with her own.
