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Slowly he sauntered toward her. “When you weren’t at the house and Delores said you’d taken off riding, I thought I’d be able to catch up with you. So I, well, ‘borrowed,’ I guess you’d say, one of the horses in the stables and rode out here. After all, this is the scene of the crime, so to speak.”
“‘Crime’? You mean accident.” Oh, God, his eyes were such an incredible hue of gold.
He lifted a shoulder. “Whatever.” The corners of his mouth twisted. “I—” His gaze centered on hers and she knew in an instant that he was searching for her soul. “I thought there were some things you and I should get straight.”
“Like what?” she asked warily and wished her pulse would slow a little. So he’d followed her out here, so they were alone together in the dying sunlight, so her throat was as dry as a desert wind, so what?
“I wanted to say that I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Somewhere nearby a crow cawed loudly.
She stiffened. “You didn’t.”
“Of course I did.” He closed the short distance between them.
Trying to back away, she nearly stumbled but his hands, rough and large, caught her and held her upright. His fingertips were warm through the light cotton of her blouse and she felt them press intimately against her ribs, as if there were no barrier, no flimsy piece of cloth separating his skin from hers.
“Terri didn’t mean anything to me, Bliss,” he said, a muscle jumping in his jaw.
“Then why did you sleep with her?”
“It was before I met you. Before I understood.”
“Understood what?”
He hesitated for a second. “What caring about a person is all about.”
Oh, God, she wanted to believe him. But there was too much time, too many lies. “Mason, you don’t have to explain.”
“Like hell.” Shifting clouds covered the sun in a soft, thin veil.
“It doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”
“It matters to me.” A lick of lightning flared in his eyes and in that split second she knew he was going to kiss her. Not just once, but many times, with a pulsing passion that was certain to be her downfall.
She tried to pull away, but his hands held her fast and when his lips claimed hers, the whimper of protest forming in her throat turned into a soft moan of pure female wanting. Dear God, she’d waited so long for this. Much too long. Kissing him seemed so natural, so right, and yet… His tongue slid easily between her teeth and beyond, searching and teasing, tasting and flicking against its mate.
Bliss was lost. All thoughts of denial swiftly fled. As the horses, bridles jangling, grazed on the summer grass and a hawk circled lazily in the cloudless sky, Mason kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her throat. Her skin quivered with each brush of his lips and she couldn’t protest as his weight pulled them both to the soft carpet of grass covering the ground.
“I told myself to forget you,” he whispered.
“I know. I did, too.”
“But I couldn’t.”
She didn’t argue, didn’t bring up the fact that he’d married another woman. Right now, alone on this grassy ridge, with an outcropping of stone near the edge and the forest so close, she closed her eyes and gave in to the sensations that she’d denied for oh-so-many years.
Her heart thundered; her skin was on fire. Strong arms held her fast; firm lips loved her as if she were the only woman on earth.
As the wind picked up, he lowered himself over her and the intimacy of his weight pressed against hers felt so right. Kissing each patch of her exposed skin, he drew her closer. With deft fingers, he unbuttoned her blouse and the warm air of summer touched her skin.
Slowly he kissed the dusky hollow between her breasts before he brushed his lips across a lace-encased nipple. “Bliss,” he whispered as she arched her back. “Sweet, sweet Bliss.”
A yearning, feminine and wanton, swirled deep inside her and seeped into her blood. He lifted one breast from the lacy bounds of her bra, and her nipple puckered in expectation.
“Mason—” she cried as his mouth found her nipple and gently suckled. “Oh…” She should stop this madness, stanch the heat flowing wildly through her blood, halt the driving need that was causing her to want him so badly.
“That’s it, darlin’,” he murmured as his hands moved to the waistband of her jeans. “Let go.”
