Kiss Me (Fool's Gold series) (25 page)

* * *

 

Z
ANE
WANDERED
RESTLESSLY
through the house. He hated being here nearly as much as he hated being indebted to Reilly. No doubt the old bastard was gloating. Once again he’d gotten the better of him.

He crossed to a window and stared out at the storm. The afternoon was gray and cold. He knew he didn’t have to worry about Chase. The kid would be fine. Cookie’s wagon was more than enough protection for the two of them. And in this kind of rain, the cattle weren’t likely to do much more than hunker down and endure. But he couldn’t help worrying. And thinking. The past was always close, and in this house, it threatened to overwhelm him.

Determined not to give in, he went searching for Phoebe. He found her in a back office by the kitchen. She was working on a computer.

“Hey,” he said as he entered.

She glanced up and practically beamed. “Oh, Zane, isn’t this place amazing? And you know what? Reilly has Wi-Fi. I’ve already sent off pictures of the inside. I didn’t want to get any of the exterior, what with it raining and all, but Reilly had some and I scanned those in. I even caught Jonny Blaze at home. He’s thrilled by what he’s seen so far. In fact he’s talking about making an offer, sight unseen. Is that just the best? Of course I’d have to get the deal through before I get my license revoked, but still. Reilly will get what he wants, Jonny Blaze will have his private retreat and I’ll get a commission that is...”

She sucked in a breath. “Well, I can’t do the math in my head, but it’s going to be a lot, which is so cool.”

He stared at her, unable to believe what she was saying. “Jonny Blaze?”

“You remember.”

“I sure as hell do. You can’t sell this place to some movie star.”

The words came out as a roar. Phoebe’s eyes darkened with confusion, and she slowly rose.

“What’s wrong? Zane? Are you worried he’s going to throw parties and put up a theme park or something? It won’t be like that. Jonny really respects the environment. He wants the acreage for privacy. In fact he’d probably be delighted to sell you his cattle and let them run on this land. Do cattle run? Is
graze
a better word?” Her expression softened. “Don’t worry, Zane. I’ve already told Jonny that there’s a strip of land he can’t have. If this deal goes through, you’ll get it back.”

“Like charity?”

“No. Of course not. It’s yours. It’s always been yours. I thought...”

“The hell you did.” He glared at her. “You can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

A voice came from behind them. “You gonna tell her, boy? Or am I?”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

Z
ANE
SPUN
AROUND
and saw Reilly standing in the doorway. Figured the old man would show up now.

“She already knows.”

Reilly shrugged. “So what’s the big deal? We all get what we want.”

Zane couldn’t explain. What words would tell either of them that he had to earn back the land? That only through pain and suffering could he make it right. Even then—who knew if the ghosts would be happy at last?

He tried to tell himself that it didn’t matter. Not after all this time. The thing was, he couldn’t make himself believe it.

Reilly was going to sell the land to some movie star, and Zane would never get the chance to make things right. Sure, Phoebe would make sure he got his acreage back, but that wasn’t enough. He wouldn’t have proved anything.

“Crazy,” he muttered to himself as he stared out the window at the rain. “You’re more than crazy.”

Zane knew it to be true. His father had been dead for years. What was there to prove and make right? Were there any ghosts outside of those he’d created himself? So what did the land really mean after all this time? He’d done fine without it. Better than fine. He’d done the one thing his father had never been able to do—run the ranch at a profit.

Zane had inherited acres of land and enough debt to sink it, but he’d managed to pull off the impossible. He’d paid off every penny and now had enough in the bank to secure the future of several generations. So why wasn’t that enough? Why did he feel the coldness of his father’s disappointment breathing down his neck?

Phoebe moved close and wrapped her arms around him. He accepted the embrace for a second, then stepped back. Her dark eyes widened.

“I need to think this through,” he said. “Alone.”

He saw the pain in her expression and wished he could make it better. But how? He’d learned over and over that there was no way to fix what had been done and that forgiveness was a gift always withheld.

She swallowed. “If you change your mind, if you want to talk, you know how to find me.”

Her acceptance both awed and annoyed him. “Don’t you ever stop giving?”

She considered the question. “I don’t think I can. It’s a part of who I am.”

Of course, he thought, seeing the truth for the first time. Phoebe was light. She was bright and good and loving. Whatever the circumstances of her life, she could be proud of who she was and what she brought to this world.

And what was he? What kind of man had he become?

* * *

 

P
HOEBE
THOUGHT
SHE
would sleep, what with having been awake most of the previous night. But instead of drifting off like Maya had done within fifteen seconds of them turning out the lights, she’d lain on her back and stared up at the dark ceiling.

She couldn’t stop thinking about Zane. Nothing new, she told herself. The man had become an important part of her world. For a while she’d had a simple crush on him. Then she’d started to think the attraction was mutual. Then they’d made love, and she hadn’t needed to think aside from the fact that she was blissfully happy, and now she was confused. Again.

She knew he was in pain—both about the land and what had happened with his father. She’d recognized the pain in his eyes. She’d wanted to comfort him, but he wasn’t the kind of man who welcomed that sort of intimacy. If only he was.

With a sigh she rose and pulled on jeans, then replaced her sleep shirt with a long-sleeved T-shirt. Barefoot, she walked to the door and let herself out into the hallway, one of the books she’d purchased in Fool’s Gold tucked under her elbow. If she couldn’t think herself to sleep, maybe she could find a quiet place to read.

She made it to the top of the stairs before she heard something. A slight creaking made her turn around while a dark shadow loomed in the darkness.

“Phoebe?”

Her breath caught as she recognized the voice. “Zane? What are you doing up?”

“I can’t sleep. I was lurking outside of your room, trying to figure out how to talk to you without waking Maya.”

He wanted to talk to her? Really?

She moved toward him. “Here I am.”

Instead of saying anything, he took her hand and led her down the hall. They entered the bedroom he’d been given, and when he’d closed the door behind them, he hit the light switch.

One of the bedside lamps came on, illuminating the small room. There was a double bed, a dresser and a door to a bathroom.

She turned to ask him what he wanted, but before she could speak, he took the book from her and set it aside, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pressing his cheek against her hair. “I’m such a jackass.”

She rubbed her hands up and down his back. He was warm and alive and next to her. Nothing else really mattered.

“Jackass seems strong,” she murmured.

“How about a first-class screwup?”

“If you’re going to do a job, then do it the best you can.”

He chuckled low in his throat. “Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

He drew back and took her hand. Tugging her along, he walked to the bed, then pulled her down next to him.

“You’re a hell of a woman,” he said as he brushed the hair from her face.

Her? “I’m not all that special.”

“Sure you are. You’re fearless.”

“So are you.”

He shook his head. “Not even close. I’m sorry I pushed you away before. I’m not used to sharing my troubles. When I was a kid—” He shrugged. “I was a complete screwup. Just like Chase. My old man never understood. Whenever things went bad, he’d give me this look. I think I have it, too. Chase calls it the ‘death-ray look.’”

Phoebe angled toward him, shifted so she tucked one foot under her. “It’s tough when we disappoint a parent.”

“Worse than tough,” he said, staring past her.

Her heart ached for him. Phoebe took his hand and squeezed. “Your father was wrong. He sounds like a difficult, mean man who couldn’t see how he was destroying his son.”

“This isn’t about me.”

“Of course it is. There’s a part of you deep inside that still hurts.” She released his hand and cupped his face. “I would do anything to go back in time and hold that little boy and tell him it’s okay.”

Zane started to pull back. She didn’t want to let him go. Not just yet. Not while he was hurting so much she could feel the pain surrounding him. His wound ate away at him, making him hollow. She wanted to crawl inside and fill that space.

“Don’t you ever give up?” he asked hoarsely.

“Not really. It’s a flaw.”

“No, it’s not.”

He reached for her and pulled her close. Then they were stretched out on the bed, their arms around each other and nothing in the world mattered but being together.

She surged forward as he dropped his head, and they met in a kiss that quickly consumed them. Heat, need and desire exploded into an out-of-control fire.

He touched her everywhere, and she touched him back. Breasts, chest, back, hips, legs. She felt the length of his muscles, the power of his shoulders. Her mouth parted as he plunged inside of her. Tongues met, stroked, danced, as her blood pounded and flowed in a hot, passionate river of wanting.

His long fingers found her breasts and squeezed them. Her nipples were already hard, and the brush of his thumbs against the tight tips made her whimper. She hadn’t pulled on a bra, and she was desperate to feel his hands on her bare skin.

“Naked,” she whispered against his mouth.

She wasn’t sure if she meant him or herself. Nor did it matter. He pulled back enough to allow her to drag off her T-shirt.

While his gaze devoured her bare chest, he worked the buttons of his shirt, then jerked off the garment. She had already unfastened her jeans and quickly pushed them and her panties off. Even as he reached for his belt, he scrambled off the bed and headed for the bathroom. Seconds later he was back, naked and clutching a handful of condoms.

“Don’t ask,” he said when she glanced at them and raised her eyebrows.

She decided it didn’t matter how or where he’d gotten them. All that was important was that he put one on and get inside of her right now!

She moved to the center of the bed as he flung himself beside her. The square packets of protection went flying. One landed on her belly, and she grabbed for it.

Zane raised himself on an elbow and bent over her. His mouth brushed against hers before moving lower to her neck. He licked and kissed and nibbled his way to the sensitive skin below her ear, then lower still to her chest. At the same time, he ran his hand down her belly.

She parted her legs long before he arrived. His fingers found her center at the exact moment his mouth closed over her left nipple. Breath escaped as she moaned her pleasure.

Tongue and fingers moved in tandem, circling, rubbing, teasing, pleasuring. She reached between them and took his erection in her hand. He was already rock hard. As she closed around him, he shuddered. His touch between her legs slowed slightly, then the pace resumed.

He shifted so he could rub her with his thumb while pushing two fingers inside her. At the same time he kissed his way up her chest and neck until he reached her ear.

“I want you to come for me,” he whispered. “Now. I want to feel your muscles contract around my fingers. I want to hear your breathing catch, and I want you to scream.”

The erotic image of his words made her shiver, then tense. She opened her eyes and realized that, unlike the previous night in the tent, this time she could see him. All of him. And that he could see her. And that he was looking.

Their gazes locked as he continued to touch her. He moved a little faster, pushed a little harder until she felt herself losing control. Then he kissed her, dipping into her mouth, mimicking the actions between her legs.

It was just enough to send her over the edge. She felt her eyes flutter closed as her release claimed her.

Pleasure rushed through her in waves of contractions. She arched her body toward him, sucked in her breath and maybe even screamed. Fortunately the sound was muffled by Zane’s kiss.

He continued to touch her, gentling the contact, slowing, until every last shudder had stilled, and she could think again.

“You’re so beautiful,” he told her when she looked at him. “All of you.”

She made a leisurely, visual exploration of his muscled chest, his flat belly, his jutting erection. He was a man who worked hard, and it showed.

“So are you.” She touched a scar on his thigh. “Want to tell me how you got that?”

“Not right now.”

He knelt between her legs, and she handed him the condom. As he ripped open the package, she brushed her fingers against the tip of his arousal. He flexed in response.

Anticipation filled her. She wanted him inside her. She wanted to feel him getting closer, even as she lost herself in what they were doing. She wanted to touch him everywhere, to be held by him. She wanted to love him.

Words clogged her throat, and then he was pushing inside her and speaking didn’t matter anymore.

Her body stretched to accommodate him. She drew her legs back to bring him in deeper. More. She wanted more.

When his arms came around her, she clutched his hips. They kissed. The rhythm of his body filling her made her pulse her hips. Anticipation spiraled to tension. He moved harder and faster, making her suck on his tongue. She dug her fingers into him.

The bed creaked, and outside thunder shattered the silence of the night. Phoebe didn’t care. There was only the moment, the man and what they were doing together. Then she lost control. Her orgasm claimed her, shattering her. She could only cling to him as he called out her name and sank into his own release.

* * *

 

L
ATER
,
WHEN
THEY

D
turned out the lights and found their way under the covers, she snuggled close to him. The sound of his heartbeat filled her with contentment.

He was asleep. She could tell by his steady breathing. By the way he stirred in his dreams. While he slept, she laced their fingers together and spoke the words she hadn’t found the courage to say any other time.

“I love you.”

The arm around her tightened. His leg moved against hers, and he sighed.

“Love you, too, Phoebe.”

His voice, thick and barely audible, made her heart stop. Her eyes popped open, and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

Had he really said the words or had she imagined them? If he had said them, was it something he’d mumbled in his sleep? An almost automatic response? Or had he meant them?

The questions haunted her for hours, until sometime before dawn when exhaustion gave way to slumber, and she finally relaxed against him.

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