Only His (14 page)

Her gaze roamed over him, settling on his mouth. The mouth that knew exactly what to do to hers. The
mouth that made her feel desire and wanting for the first time in forever.

Suddenly she knew why she was restless and what would make her feel better. Unfortunately, Tucker had just changed all the rules.

Fine, she told herself, walking toward him. She would change them back.

He glanced up as she approached. She didn't give him time to figure out her plan. As she got closer, she pulled the paper from his fingers and dropped it to the floor, then put her hands on his shoulders, raised herself onto her toes and kissed him.

She moved her mouth against his, at the same time sliding her hands down his back and shifting her body close enough to press against him. There was a split second when he didn't react, when she knew he could pull away, leaving her feeling more than a little stupid. A consequence she would accept if she had to, she thought.

He stiffened. She felt the stillness in his body, the indecision, then he groaned and surged against her, wrapping his arms around her and pushing his tongue into her mouth.

Passion exploded. His hands were everywhere, her hips, her back, her breasts. He cupped her curves, then rubbed his thumbs against her already tight nipples. She moaned as ribbons of need twisted through her. Heat and dampness surged between her legs.

She cupped his face in her hands, kissing him back, circling his tongue with hers. They danced and moved, the fire everywhere. She rubbed her palms against his chest before starting to unbutton his shirt. He pulled
her long-sleeved T-shirt off, then unfastened her bra in a matter of seconds. Before she could register what he'd done, his mouth closed around her right nipple.

The combination of warmth, dampness and lips was nearly too much. Her thighs began to tremble. He moved to her other breast, sucking deeply, rhythmically. The pulling sensation shot down to her belly, then lower, making that most feminine part of her ache with longing.

He drew back and walked to the door, where he turned the lock. From there he crossed to Will's desk and began tearing open drawers.

“Where are they?” he muttered. He swore, pulled open another drawer. “Yes!”

He held up a condom.

“Fascinating office supplies,” she said as she pulled off her boots.

“He keeps them around for the guys, more as a joke than anything else.”

“I've always liked Will.”

She finished with her boots and socks. Tucker headed back toward her, pulling off his shirt as he went.

She gave herself a second to enjoy the view—the sculpted muscles and narrow waist, the erection jutting against his jeans. Then he was undoing the button on her pants and pulling down the zipper. She found herself a whole lot less interested in how things looked rather than in how things felt.

He wrapped one arm around her and pressed his mouth to hers. As he kissed her into a quivering mass, he slipped one hand between her bikini panties and her
hip, then moved his hand slowly, oh so slowly around. At last he eased his fingers between her thighs.

She'd been wet and swollen since the first kiss. Now she held in a groan as he explored her, sliding his fingers against slick flesh, finding that one spot and circling it slowly before brushing over it.

Heat burned down to her toes. She had to stop kissing him, had to stop even breathing so she could focus on the brush of his fingers. Back and forth, over and over. The trembling in her legs increased. She could barely stay standing.

In a matter of seconds, she was inches from coming. She gritted her teeth, then pushed him back.

“Naked,” she demanded. “Now.”

He obliged by pushing down his jeans and boxers. She pulled off her clothes, then shifted onto the table behind her. He put on the condom, then joined her.

She reached between them, guiding him inside of her. He was thick and long and filled her until she gasped with the pleasure of it. Every nerve ending cheered. Deep inside, she felt the tension start to increase again.

“This isn't going to go well,” he groaned, pulling out and thrusting in again. “Dammit, Nevada.”

Despite the building tension, despite the threatening release, she laughed. “It's not my fault.”

“Sure it is. You feel too good.”

He pumped in again. At the same time he cupped her breasts in his hands. His forefinger and thumb caressed her nipples. The sensations were amazing, perfect. Just enough.

“Go for it,” she told him, wrapping her legs around his hips. “Just go for it.”

He hesitated for a second. She pulled him in with her thighs and he sank in as far as he could.

“Like that,” she breathed.

He took her at her word and moved faster, deeper. She gave herself up to the rhythm and over to the man. He dropped his hands to the desk for leverage. Again and again he filled her, stroking her so deliciously that she let her head fall back and rode the inevitable wave.

Her orgasm hit with the subtlety of a freight train. One second she was enjoying the ride, the next every muscle contracted and released. She clung to him, crying out her pleasure. More, she thought frantically. More and more and more.

He kept going. Thrusting, filling, carrying her on until the last of her contractions eased and she could breathe again. Then he groaned her name, pushed in one more time and was still.

She could feel the frantic beating of his heart and knew hers pounded just as hard. Their breath came in pants. Muscles spasmed. From outside, she heard the low rumble of heavy equipment.

She looked up and met his bemused expression.

“I thought we weren't going to do that,” he told her.

“We weren't.”

“That was the best not doing it I've ever had.”

She laughed. “Me, too.”

She supposed the awkward bits would come later—when she'd had a chance to think about what they'd done and wallow in the consequences. But for now
there was only the hum of satisfaction and a pleasant relaxed sensation.

He kissed her once, then withdrew. They dressed, handing each other items of clothing. As she reached for her boots, he grabbed her and kissed her again. She went into his arms. Somewhere outside a vehicle pulled up close to the trailer.

Tucker swore and glanced toward the sound. “Rain check?” he asked.

She nodded.

They finished dressing, then unlocked the trailer door. She opened it and stepped outside.

A long, black limo had parked by the trailer. The driver got out and walked around to the rear passenger door.

Tucker moved next to her. “Someone from town?” he asked.

“Fool's Gold isn't much of a limo place,” she said, curious as to who would arrive with so much fanfare.

The first thing she saw was a black leather boot with a thin high heel. Next she saw a slender, jean-covered leg, then a woman emerged.

She was of medium height, with layered dark hair. Large sunglasses covered much of her face, but Nevada recognized her all the same. There was no way she could forget the high cheekbones, the full mouth, the perfection that was unmistakable.

Caterina Stoicasescu had come to Fool's Gold.

N
EVADA FOUND IT DIFFICULT
to breathe, let alone speak. Fortunately, no conversation was needed. She could simply stand there, staring, blinking, probably looking like an idiot.

Cat, wearing a white wool coat over a dark red sweater, pulled off her sunglasses.

“I see you're both surprised,” she said, then laughed, the light, tinkling sound exactly as Nevada remembered. “Good. That's what I wanted. When I accepted the invitation, I insisted no one be told. Pia promised. I've known for nearly a month I would be surprising you both!”

Bright sunshine illuminated her face. The harsh light should have been unkind. Instead of adding shadows or lines, it simply played across the perfection of her face, making her look exactly as she had ten years ago.

Nevada knew the other woman had to be in her mid to late thirties. She might even be forty—but she couldn't tell. If anything, Cat had gotten more stunning with age.

Cat hurried toward them. As she approached, Nevada inhaled the scent of her perfume and knew that, yes, this really was happening. She'd just thrown herself at Tucker, only to have the one woman who'd obsessed him show up. Talk about crappy timing.

“How I've missed you both,” Cat said, throwing herself at Nevada and hugging her tightly. The other woman was strong, probably from her years of working with metal. She kissed Nevada on both cheeks, then turned to Tucker.

“You've thought of me often,” she announced, before embracing him.

Nevada didn't want to watch, but she couldn't turn away. Tucker looked as stunned as she felt. It was probably like being swept up in a tornado. You could see it coming, but before you could get out of the way, it was there, sucking you up in its grasp.

Cat hugged him just as tightly, then stepped back and linked arms with Nevada. “Isn't this a wonderful surprise? When I received the invitation, I nearly threw it out. I get asked to so many places. The fame.” She sighed. “Sometimes it's a burden. But then I recognized the name. Fool's Gold.” She squeezed Nevada's arm. “You talked about this place, about growing up here. So I simply had to come.”

Nevada cleared her throat. “I don't understand.” That was more polite than what she was really thinking. Something along the lines of “Why the hell are you here?”

“There's an artist festival. I don't remember the details. That is why I have a staff.” She smiled again. “Not to worry. I won't let them keep me too busy. I want us to spend time together. To get to know each other again.”

The irony didn't escape Nevada. Cat had returned to both her and Tucker's lives and Nevada only had herself to blame. Why couldn't she be like other people and want to escape where she'd grown up?

Cat released her and turned to Tucker. “I thought we could spend some time together, too. It's been so long.”

This time Nevada managed to turn away. She told herself she was studying the job site, getting an idea of what was going on with her crew. But it was a lie. Instead she was doing her best not to get lost in the past.

She knew what would happen. Despite his claims of being over Cat, there was no way Tucker could resist her. She was too beautiful, larger than life. Tucker was a regular guy—mortal. What hope did he have against someone like Caterina Stoicasescu?

Nevada took a step away and felt a slight ache in her hips and thighs. A reminder of their lovemaking a few minutes ago. Talk about feeling stupid, she thought glumly. How long would it take for her to feel the way she did in college? Always out of place, on the fringes, looking in and wanting what she could never have. Telling herself she was a mature adult now didn't help very much.

“I'm busy,” Tucker said flatly, pulling away from Cat.

Instead of looking insulted, Cat simply smiled. “Not too busy for an old friend.” She turned to Nevada. “Have dinner with me tonight. Both of you. It will be like it was before.”

Nevada would rather have a root canal. “I can't.”

“Of course you can. You must. Otherwise you'll break my heart. I've so been looking forward to seeing you again.” Cat stared at Nevada intently. “You have to believe me.”

All those years of being told to be polite by her
mother came back to bite Nevada in the butt. She found herself verbally stumbling over a believable lie.

“I, ah, I…” She sighed. “Fine. Dinner. It'll be great.”
Hell
was a better word, she told herself. “But for now, I need to run.”

Then she did just that. She turned her back and raced to her truck, thankful that her keys were in her jeans pocket. Seconds later she was on the dirt road leading to the highway, leaving the danger of Cat behind.

 

T
UCKER WATCHED THE DIRT
kicked up by Nevada's truck as she sped away. He couldn't blame her for getting gone while the getting was good, but now he was stuck with Cat.

She didn't seem concerned by Nevada's abrupt departure. Instead she leaned into him and smiled.

“Come with me to the hotel,” she said, taking his hand in hers and tugging him toward her limo. “I want to know all you've been doing since we last saw each other. It's been what? Four years? Five?”

“Ten,” he said, finding himself going along with her.

“That long? Time moves so quickly for me.”

She motioned for him to go first, then slid in beside him. The driver shut the door. Seconds later they were following the path Nevada's truck had taken, albeit at a slower pace.

In the smooth leather seat, Cat angled toward him. “Tell me everything. You're still working for your father?”

He nodded cautiously.

“You always liked building things. I know the feel
ing of creating something beautiful from nothing. To have that piece stand alone, pure.”

He wasn't sure bridges and buildings qualified as pure, but okay.

“How long are you in town?” he asked.

“I'm not sure. I'll know when it's time to leave.” She gazed at him. “Still handsome.”

He had to consciously keep from moving away from her. After all this time, he could still remember the first time he'd met her. She'd asked Janack Construction to build the installation for her latest piece and his dad had sent him to deliver the bid in person. He'd been a kid just out of college and she'd been unlike anyone he'd ever met before.

She'd been working on a metal piece about fourteen feet high when he'd walked into her studio. He remembered the sun pouring in the windows, the sparks from the welding and the sound of her laughter. She'd been laughing as she worked.

She'd climbed down the scaffolding to meet him. He'd taken one look at her and been lost. They'd introduced themselves, then she'd kissed him. They'd become lovers that afternoon, and she'd moved into his condo that night.

Being with Cat had consumed him. He'd blown off work, ignored his friends, spent every dime he had taking her places and buying her presents. Nothing had mattered but Cat. He'd been a junkie and she'd been his drug. Eventually he'd realized he needed to break free or he would be lost forever, but leaving her had been harder than he had thought. Each time he tried, she called him back and he'd been unable to resist.

Now, in the car, she reached out as if she were going to touch his face. He grabbed her wrist and lowered her arm to her side.

“Where are you staying?” he asked.

“At a hotel up on the mountain.”

“The Gold Rush Ski Lodge and Resort,” he said, relieved they weren't at the same hotel. He was in town. A safe distance from Cat.

It wasn't that he didn't trust her, he thought. It was that he didn't trust himself. There were too many memories.

“Travel is exhausting,” she said, leaning back in her seat. “The public is so demanding. You remember what it was like. There is never any rest. Always something to be doing. The French government has commissioned a piece and I'm at a loss. There is so much beauty there already. What can I give them that shows my brilliance and yet pleases them.”

“You worry about what your audience thinks?” he asked. That was new.

She lowered her sunglasses so he could see the startling green of her eyes. The way the corners crinkled in amusement. “No, but sometimes I pretend I do.”

“That's the Cat I know,” he said before he could stop himself.

“Did you think I'd change?” She looked out the window. “I spent the summer in South America. In the rain forest. The native people there are at one with nature. I learned so much from them—spiritually. I had thought perhaps butterflies for inspiration. Did you know there are butterflies who fly thousands of miles every year?
They migrate. I was impressed, but they didn't inspire me as much as I had hoped.”

She turned back to him. “You've been following my career?”

“It's hard not to read about you,” he said, dodging the question. Honestly, he did his best to avoid all things Cat.

“I imagine it is. So much of my life is interesting to the press. You can't know what it's like to want to be like everyone else. To be normal. To walk to a grocery store without being hounded every step.”

“You want to go to a grocery store? Why?”

She smiled. “Perhaps not a grocery store, but you know what I mean. Being so famous and talented is difficult.”

“Your life is pain.”

She sighed and leaned against him. “I knew you would understand.”

Obviously the irony of his statement had been lost on her. Not surprising. But what
was
different was that the feel of her weight against him wasn't distracting. He had no urge to put his arm around her or pull her close. Sure, she was beautiful, but so what?

He sat there, inhaling the familiar perfume and carefully probing his heart. The cliché that the opposite of love wasn't hate but indifference suddenly made sense. He didn't want Cat. He wasn't interested in her. She was someone he used to know. Given the choice between getting naked with Nevada and the woman next to him, the decision was easy. Making love with Nevada had been pure pleasure with a big dose of fun. Mostly because he liked her.

That was it, he realized. He liked Nevada. She was someone he enjoyed talking to and spending time with. He'd never liked Cat. He'd been infatuated with Cat, nearly possessed by his desperation to be with her. But liking her hadn't ever been part of their story.

He felt like Scrooge at the end of
A Christmas Carol,
when the old man found out he hadn't missed Christmas at all. That he still had time to redeem himself.

Of course now he wasn't alone with Cat. He would want to make sure that he still felt the same when it was just the two of them. But breathing just got a whole lot easier.

“What are you so happy about?” she asked, looking up at him.

“I'm a happy guy.”

They arrived at the hotel. One of the bellmen stepped up quickly to open the door and Cat slid out.

Although Tucker was right behind her and saw what happened, he couldn't have explained it. As soon as Cat straightened and smiled, people came running. Two more bellmen appeared and pushed each other in an attempt to be the one to escort her into the hotel. Three members of the staff rushed toward Cat and welcomed her. A small, frightened little man with round glasses and pale, trembling hands joined the group.

“Ms. Stoicasescu, Ms. Stoicasescu, how are you? Are you feeling all right? Did the journey tire you?”

Cat smiled at the hotel staff, chose the arm of the tallest, youngest bellman and sniffed at the little man.

“Herbert, is my suite arranged? I'm exhausted.”

“Of course,” the little man said, nearly bowing as
she walked by. “I have seen to everything.” The man glanced at Tucker. “Are you Mr. Janack?” he asked.

Tucker nodded.

“I'm Herbert, Ms. Stoicasescu's assistant. She told me that she's looking forward to you joining her for dinner this evening. Along with Ms. Hendrix. I've made reservations.”

Tucker thought about pointing out that Fool's Gold wasn't a reservation kind of town but figured the poor guy was dealing with enough.

“I have plans for tonight,” Tucker said with a drawl, enjoying his newfound sense of being his own man.

“But you're expected.” Herbert sounded both afraid and horrified.

“Cat'll have to learn to live with the disappointment,” he said and flagged a cab.

“But, Mr. Janack…”

Tucker ignored the little man, climbed into the back of the cab and started whistling.

 

“T
ELL ME WHY WE'RE HERE
,” Dakota said, following Nevada down a hallway at the Gold Rush Ski Lodge and Resort.

“You're here because you love me,” Nevada told her. “I'm scared to be with Cat by myself.”

“Why?” Montana asked. “She's a brilliant, world-famous artist. She must be fascinating.”

“You'd think she was,” Nevada said with a sigh. “And in some ways she is. But in others…not so much.”

She didn't have a better answer to why they were there, because she couldn't figure out what
she
was doing there. One second she'd been back at her house,
thinking that she needed wine and a bubble bath. The next the phone had rung, it had been Cat saying she desperately wanted to see Nevada, and that it would be a “girls only” evening. Nevada had tried to refuse, but she'd found herself saying yes, compelled by a force she couldn't explain or, apparently, ignore.

“Cat is like nature. You can try to go on about your day, as if nothing is happening, but she wins in the end,” Nevada told them.

“That sounds intimidating,” Montana admitted.

Dakota studied the names next to the various doors. They were by the main ballroom, but in a hallway that was new to them all.

“What am I looking for?” Dakota asked.