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“My instincts are shouting just the opposite,” she whispered, wide-eyed.
“In that case, let’s listen to mine.”
With that, his mouth closed over hers, silencing her protests and completing the awakening that had begun two nights before, on a private bench along a moonlit walk.
A kiss—Dustin knew it only as a prelude to passion, the preliminary step in an age-old dance that culminated in bed.
Not so with Nicole.
The sweetness of her mouth, the hesitant parting of her lips as she silently granted him entry, was a breathtaking entity unto itself, as foreign as it was humbling. Trembling with emotion, Dustin enfolded her in his arms, deepening the kiss in deliberate, gradual shimmers of sensation. His tongue glided inside, softly stroking every velvety surface, learning every delicate texture. Then it sought hers, melding in an exquisite, shattering caress more poignant than anything he’d ever experienced.
Nicole felt the impact, too, for she stiffened, clinging and retreating all at once.
“Don’t.” Dustin breathed the protest into her open mouth, tightening his embrace even as he ordered himself to slow, to remember her innocence, her inexperience with men.
He felt as inexperienced as she.
“Stay.” His lips circled hers. “Just a moment longer—stay.”
She paused, and he could actually feel her indecision.
Cautiously, he repeated the caress, his tongue penetrating, sliding sensuously against hers.
She melted, moaning softly and entwining her arms about his neck.
“Yes,” he managed, shuddering at the. unbearable beauty of the contact. “Nicole … kiss me.” He molded her against him, feeling the pounding of her heart, the fragility of her form, the awakening of her response.
On and on the kiss went, tenderness melding with fire, the intensity escalating until it was nearly unbearable.
Abruptly, Nicole pulled away. “No.”
“Yes.” He reached for her, scowling as she backed off.
“I can’t,” she gasped, wildly shaking her head as if searching for a rational reason for her actions. “W-we come from different worlds.” She continued to retreat; Dustin continued to advance. “I work for you,” she tried, feeling the door behind her, tugging at the handle only to recall he’d locked it. “I’m supposed to be a man,” she burst out.
That had the desired effect.
Halting, Dustin stared at her, the ironic significance of her words sinking in. “Damn.” He raked a hand through his hair, his gaze roving restlessly from her jockey’s attire back to her kiss-swollen lips, the contrast slapping him like a douse of cold water.
Sharply, he inhaled. “We have a problem, Derby.”
The affectionate term brought frustrated tears to her eyes. “Don’t retract your offer,” she entreated. “Let me ride for you—and not just because of my dreams to race. Because of Papa. Please, Dustin. I’ll stay away from you. We’ll never kiss again—I promise.”
Whatever he’d been about to say vanished in the wake of her ludicrous vow. “What did you say?”
“I said we’ll never kiss again. You have my word.”
His chuckle erupted with a will all its own. “And you have my word we will kiss again. As for your unfounded apology, let me remind you that you didn’t initiate the kiss. I did.”
She contemplated that truth. “Very well, then, I promise to unman you if you ever initiate another.”
Dustin’s shoulders shook. “How comforting. I appreciate the warning, Derby. I’ll be sure to protect myself against oncoming injury the next time I take you in my arms.” Noting her drawn expression, he sobered, a wave of tenderness constricting his chest. “Alden Stoddard—what made you choose that name? The Alden, I assume, you derived from Aldridge.”
A flicker of hope invaded Nicole’s eyes. “Yes, I did. I wanted a bit of Papa with me when I raced. As for Stoddard—” She smiled. “It means ‘keeper of horses.’”
“Most fitting.” Dustin extracted his handkerchief, gently drying her eyes. “It appears my handkerchief is being put to
use after all.”
