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“Here’s to you, Katie Kinkaid.” He touched the rim of his glass to hers and looked deep into her eyes. “May you find your happiness here, and may you always be safe.”
Her heart nearly crumpled, and her throat grew thick, but she managed a frail smile. “And here’s to you, Luke Gates,” she said, again nudging his glass with hers. “Man of mystery, cowboy and Bittersweet’s newest entrepreneur. May the ranch be a raving success.”
“It will be.” He grinned crookedly, his gaze still holding hers as he took the first sip. Katie’s heart thrummed, her throat was as dry as a desert, and she sipped from her glass, feeling the red wine slide down her throat more easily than she’d expected. She shouldn’t be doing this; the room was much too intimate, the atmosphere seductive.
Firelight played in Luke’s hair, reflecting in his eyes and gilding his skin. He stretched out, boots nearly touching the marble hearth, one elbow propping his shoulders upright.
“Tell me about yourself,” he suggested.
“Not much more to tell.” She took another swallow. “I think you know most of the high points.”
“Do I?” One of his eyebrows arched, and her stomach rolled over. He was so damned sexy, so raw and male. As he drank from his glass she watched his Adam’s apple move, and she found the involuntary motion decidedly seductive. What was wrong with her? Why did she always see Luke Gates as a raw, sexual man, not just someone she wanted as a friend. “How about the men in your life?”
“‘The men’?” she repeated and smiled. “The dozens of men?” When his smile faded she shook her head. “The truth of the matter is, there just haven’t been many.”
“There was Josh’s father.”
Dave. Her heart twisted a bit. “He was a long time ago. I was in high school.”
“And since?”
“I’ve dated a little. Nothing serious. I had Josh to think about, to protect, and of course, my job. I…I told myself I couldn’t get involved with anyone, I had too many responsibilities, and maybe it was just a defense mechanism, but the truth of the matter is that no one interested me.” Until you.
“Most women want a man to be a father to their kids.”
“I’m not most women,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly.
“I noticed.” His eyes locked with hers, and in that instant she knew she would make love to him. It was inevitable, like the ebb and flow of the tide. The wine was beginning to warm her blood, and the intimacy of the room enfolded her in a soft, seductive cocoon. Raindrops sparkling with firelight trailed down the windowpanes, and she felt as if she and Luke were the only two people on earth. She licked a drop of Merlot from her lips, and his gaze followed her movement.
Slowly he took her glass from her hand, set it along with his in a corner near the fireplace, then stretched out beside her on the carpet and wrapped his arms around her. She turned her head up expectantly but wasn’t prepared for the onslaught on her senses as his lips met hers, his tongue delved between her teeth, and a rush of desire as hot as lava sped through her blood.
This time there were no excuses, no interruptions. His tongue and hands were everywh
ere, and without a thought she kissed him back, her arms drawing him closer still, her mind swimming with erotic images as he pressed wet, warm kisses on to her eyes, her neck, her shoulders. He stripped her clothes from her body, leaving her naked, her skin shimmering with perspiration before the fire. And she, too, worked at the buttons of his shirt, tore open the waistband of his jeans, pulled hard and heard a sexy series of pops as his fly gave way.
His body was lean and sinewy, sleek muscles visible through skin that was tanned except for a strip of white over his buttocks. Golden hair covered his chest and his manhood, which was strong, erect and ready.
His fingers caressed her, his lips and tongue exploring each intimate crevice and curve. She tingled inside as she, tentatively at first, and then with more confidence, touched him and heard him moan with deep, hungry pleasure.
She didn’t think about the consequences as he rolled atop her, didn’t consider recriminations. She arched as he placed his big, callused hands on either side of her rib cage, his fingers splaying around her ribs, his thumbs rubbing her nipples seductively. His hair fell forward, streaked gold and red by the firelight as he bent forward and kissed the tip of each breast. The world began to tilt. He pushed his tongue through the valley of her sternum; then, with his lips, climbed each mound and lingered, laving and sucking at her nipples. Desire, dark and insistent, curled deep inside her and brought with it a moistness, a wild yearning she hadn’t felt in years.
“Katie,” he rasped, lifting his head as her fingers dug into the hard, sinewy muscles of his buttocks. “Sweet, sweet Katie.”
She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t form a word.
“Is this what you want?”
“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate. It had been so long. Too long. Winding an arm around his neck, she pulled his head down to hers and kissed him, her mouth open and waiting, her body quivering with a passion she’d feared she’d lost.
His knees parted her legs, and he looked one last time into her eyes before he thrust into her as if he’d wanted to make love to her all his life. She gasped as he entered her, holding tightly to the arms planted on either side of her head, and as he withdrew and entered again, rose to meet him. She held his gaze as their bodies joined, moved her hips to his rhythm, felt the sing of anticipation in her bloodstream. All her doubts fled, all her worries disappeared, and she was lost in the single purpose of loving this lone, tough man.
Faster and faster he moved, and she could scarcely breathe, gasping in short, sharp bursts that matched the crazy beating of her heart.
“Katie,” he cried, throwing back his head as he spilled himself into her. “Katie!”
She clung to him, her body convulsing, her universe shattering deep in her soul. He fell against her, breathing hard and holding her close as he rolled to the side.
Tears welled deep in her eyes, and he leaned over and kissed each eyelid. “Regrets?” he asked, his expression clouding.
