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“Because you fight me,” she responded, eyes glazed as she slowly disentangled herself. “And that’s what it is with us—a battlefield—your will against mine. It’s always been that way, always will be.”
She opened the door and stepped into the darkness, and Zane, wishing the throbbing in his loins would subside, struggled out of the Jeep. Pocketing his keys, he said, “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
She stared at him with wide, vulnerable eyes, then hurried into the house.
He should have just let her go back to the city, he realized, knowing that he couldn’t hold out much longer. Sooner or later, he’d give in to the demands of his body, and then… Oh, God, then who knew what would happen?
There was a good chance that he’d lose her forever.
“If you haven’t already,” he reminded himself grimly. With a gentle tug, he led the tired stallion to the barn.
* * *
Kaylie kicked off her soiled clothes and made a beeline for the shower. She let the hot spray soothe her throbbing muscles and loosen her sore joints, while the warm water restored feeling in her fingers and toes. She felt as if she’d been in the saddle for a millennium.
“As a pioneer woman you’re a failure, Melville,” she said, chiding herself as she squeezed water from a sponge and lathered her body. “And as a modern woman, you need some lessons on the male of the species.” What was wrong with her? she wondered, twisting off the faucets and snatching a bath towel from the rack. Every time Zane touched her or kissed her or looked at her, she turned into jelly.
“Don’t let him know that,” she warned her reflection as she rubbed away the moisture from the mirror. “You’re supposed to be strong, independent and in control!” But the green eyes staring back at her accused her of the lie. When it came to Zane, whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was in love. Always had been.
“And you’re a fool,” she whispered bitterly, toweling dry her hair.
She flung open the closet door and picked out a white cotton nightgown and a robe.
She’d go downstairs, get something to eat and then try to get to sleep. Right now, she knew that sleep was out of the question.
She started downstairs, only to stop short at the doorway to Zane’s room. The door was open a crack, and she could see him, standing in front of the mirror, wearing only low-slung jeans.
His eyes caught hers in the reflection, and the look he sent her stopped her breath somewhere between her throat and lungs. “I thought you were going to rest,” he said.
“I’m not tired.”
He cocked a disdainful brow. “You should be dead on your feet.”
“Nope,” she replied, hoping to sound chipper, though she had to stifle a yawn.
Turning to face her, he smiled, a small, lazy grin. “So, how’re you going to plan your next escape attempt?”
“Next time it won’t just be an attempt,” she replied, unable to resist teasing him.
“Oh?” One dark eyebrow cocked in interest. He crossed the room and held the door open. “So next time you’ll dupe me.”
“That’s right.”
“I can hardly wait,” he drawled, baiting her.
“Oh, you won’t have to wait long,” she promised, though she had no idea how she’d ever pull it off.
“No?” His eyes narrowed speculatively, and Kaylie could feel the air charge between them. “You know, Kaylie, I wonder about all those reasons you concoct to go back to San Francisco.” He studied his nails. “The job, the empty apartment, your co-worker, that all-fired important life.”
“It is important.”
“No doubt, but I think there’s another reason you can’t wait to make tracks out of here.” He looked up at her and his gaze was so intense, she could barely breathe.
“And what’s that?” she asked, swallowing hard.
“I think you’re afraid of me—or at least of being alone with me.”
“That’s silly.”
