Even as the words were out, he realized that he'd been living his entire life in that belief. He'd denied the past, lived only in the present and never looked to tomorrow. And now, suddenly, with Maggie, tomorrow felt more important to him than any day ever had before. He wanted them to have tomorrow, and the day after that, and every day after that. He'd wanted them to have a future together, with Drew.
The thought staggered him. That he wanted Maggie, not just for now, but for always. Only Maggie, forever.
Good God, he was in love with her.
Really in love. Not just it-feels-good-for-the-moment love, but the big-C kind of love. The realization positively took the breath out of his lungs.
“Nick, what's wrong?”
He could only imagine the inane expression on his face as he stared at her. He knew this wasn't the time to tell her what he was thinking, what he was feeling. As skittish as she was, she would probably run back to New York and that idiot boss of hers.
She'd been abandoned once, left to care for her son by herself. He knew what that felt like, knew she was running from that kind of hurt again, just as he had his entire life. It was time for both of them to let go of the past, to learn how to trust. Together, they could do that. He wanted her, but more than that, he needed her. And Drew. He needed them both, in his life, in his heart.
He only had a few days left, but by God, he'd make her realize that she loved him, too. He'd be damned if he'd let her leave him.
She put her hands on his cheeks, and he blinked, brought himself back. There was concern in her knotted brow, sadness in her dusty green eyes. The tenderness in her touch made his throat feel thick and built a strange pressure in his chest.
“Maggie,” he said raggedly as he dragged his fingers through her hair and tugged her head back. He touched his lips to the corners of her eyes, tasted the salt of her tears. “Have you any idea what you do to me?”
He lowered his mouth to hers, and she parted her lips on a sigh, welcomed him. Her arms slid around his neck as his hands moved down her back, over her buttocks, where he cupped her and lifted her, fitting her body to his. She was so soft, warm curves and smooth, silky skin. He eased them both to the blanket, let his body cushion hers as he brought her down with him. Her legs wrapped around him as he sat, and she straddled
him, pressed herself against him, moved her body in rhythm with the same sensual dance of their tongues.
The breeze lifted her hair, and it fell around his face like a satin curtain. He wanted to lose himself in her, not just with his body, but with his very soul. He tugged the hem of her tank top from her jeans, slid his hands up her cool, flat stomach. She trembled at his touch, moaned deep in her throat as he unclasped her soft cotton bra and filled his hands with her breasts.
Gasping, she pulled her mouth from his and let her head fall backward. Lips parted, eyes smoldering, she locked her gaze with his while she tugged off her denim jacket, then raised her arms over her head as she pulled off her tank top. Blood pounded in his head as he stared at her. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders, shone like fire in the brilliance of the setting sun, her skin glowed golden. Her breasts were high and firm, rosy tipped, her nipples hardened with desire. She looked like a goddess, and the sight of her offering herself to him stole his breath away.
When he closed his mouth over one pearled, sensitive nipple she arched upward on a gasp. His tongue teased, tasted, and she writhed under his touch. She whispered his name over and over, her hands cupped his face, then raked his scalp and buried themselves in his hair, dragging him against her. He paid the same loving attention to her other breast, tasted the sweetness of her while the fire swept through his blood and loins.
Her hands, as restless as they were greedy, tugged off his jacket, then tore his T-shirt from his jeans and yanked it over his head. They were bare torso to bare torso, and she moved over him, rubbed her breasts over
his chest, driving him mad with the sensation of her hardened nipples over his heated skin. He took her mouth again, reached for the snap of her jeans as she reached for his.
He lay back, brought her with him, then ground his teeth together on a low moan when her lips moved down his chest, then lower. Her hands were fluid as they skimmed over his hips; denim slid away. Her hair, soft as silk, caressed his belly and thighs.
Surging upward, he sucked in a sharp breath and buried his fingers in that glorious hair, called out her name through tightly clenched teeth. His head swam, his senses spun out of control, he swore he would break apart under her touch. He had to be a part of her, be inside her, he thought desperately, or he would certainly go mad.
On an oath, he pulled her up and with him as he rolled, dragged her under him, his hands rough on her, his mouth savage. When they were naked, he knelt over her, moved between her legs while he watched her eyes flare with desire. Threads of daylight still shimmered around them, but an impatient moon was already on the rise, trapping them between day and night, between heaven and hell.
He slid into her, and then there was only heaven, only Maggie. He lost himself there, felt her close around him, draw him deep into ecstasy. There were stars overhead. A cool breeze whispered over their damp, heated skin, sang the music of the mountain, of the trees, of the sky. This was home, this was life. Everything that had ever been and would ever be. Maggie, only Maggie.
The sky was clear, but Maggie was certain that thunder had shaken the ground, that lightning had flashed
overhead. Surely they were caught in the eye of a storm, swept into the center of a tempest. Her senses reeled at the siege, swirled upward on a kaleidoscope of intense, fierce pleasure.
She heard him growl her name, felt the frenzy build with every soul-shattering thrust. Her nails raked his shoulders, and she took him still deeper into her body, into her heart. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps, her heart slammed furiously in her chest. The feelings were as wild, as untamed as the mountains surrounding them, and she gave herself up to them, let herself go as she never had before. Love sang in her blood and pounded in her temples. There was only Nick. No one else before, no one after. Only Nick.
Lifting her hips to him, she cried out, felt her body go taut, felt the shudders rip through her even as he answered her. Unrestrained, the passion rolled through them like a powerful wave. The mountain and valley echoed with the rapture and the joy, then went blissfully quiet.
They lay twined in each others' arms, the air slowly cooling their damp, heated bodies. Maggie shivered when a breeze danced over her skin, then fussed when Nick moved away from her. He covered her with the edge of the blanket, then gathered her in his arms again. She snuggled against him, felt the deep, heavy thud of his heart against hers and smiled at the peace and contentment curling through her.
“Wow,” he whispered harshly.
She laughed softly. Hardly poetic, but certainly an accurate description. “Yeah,” she murmured. “Wow.”
There were other words that came to mind, as well.
Love. Happy. Bliss.
Deception.
The word balled like a fist in her stomach. How could she allow herself to feel happy, to feel bliss, when there were lies between them, unforgivable lies? Didn't Nick deserve more than that?
The breeze whipped over them again, and the trees shook their branches at her like accusing fingers. The peace she'd felt only a moment ago turned to cold dread. He did deserve more, she knew, but she wasn't sure she had the courage to give it to him.
Eleven
H
e had the dream again. This time, more real than ever before. He was in the forest. It was dark, with moonlight filtering through the trees. He held the woman in his arms, tasted the wine on her lips, felt her smooth, silky skin under his fingertips. Heard her deep, throaty sigh. Like before, he couldn't see her face, couldn't speak to her.
A mist crept over the forest floor, thickened, then slithered upward like dark, gray fingers. The woman turned from him, stepped into the fog. He called to her, but no sound came out. He tried to follow, but his legs wouldn't move. And like every time before, he woke, his body drenched with sweat, his heart pounding.
On a curse, Nick sat, flipped on the bedside table light and raked his hands through his hair. Four in the morning. Damn. Always 4:00 a.m. He drew in a slow, deep breath and let it out again, waited for his hands
to stop shaking before reaching for his jeans. He wouldn't sleep, he knew that by now. He might as well do something useful, something productive, like pace.
Stumbling to the kitchen, he set the coffeepot brewing. He made it strong, triple strength. Caffeine always did the trick, always kick started his blood and pulled the sleep out of his brain.
But it was so real this time, he thought, rubbing a hand over his bare chest. He could still smell her perfume, hear her softly call his name. He just couldn't see her face.
He knew the woman wasn't Maggie. He'd had the dream for almost five years now, ever since that night with his mystery lady. But he'd never had it so often, with such intensity, as he'd had since Maggie had shown up.
He was certain that the dream's frequency was due to the fact she was leaving next week. Leaving him, just as his mystery lady had. He was frustrated beyond belief, on edge and irritated that Maggie had shown no sign of changing her mind, no sign of hesitation or even reluctance. Last night, when he'd taken her and Drew for ice cream in town, she'd casually mentioned New York several times, even talked about her job: subjects that she never discussed without being prompted. He knew what she was doing, that she was gently telling him that their time together was coming to an end.
He narrowed his eyes at the thought. She had another think coming.
Opening the kitchen drawer, he pulled out a small black velvet box. His hand shook as he opened the lid with his thumb, stared at the diamond ring inside. The solitaire sparkled in the soft glow of the overhead fluorescent light. His insides knotted.
He was going to ask her to marry him tomorrow night. He'd already planned a romantic, candlelight dinner at Adagio's in the Four Winds Hotel. He'd even gone so far as to reserve a suite, to celebrate after she said yes, though he realized that he was taking a gamble on that one. But hell, life was full of gambles. He'd always been a risk taker, hadn't he?
With his life maybe, with his body, but never with his heart.
He'd never been so terrified in his entire life.
What if she said no? If she took Drew and they really left? He'd come to care for the boy, more than he'd thought possible. They were a package, the two of them. A beautiful, brightly colored package complete with ribbons and bows. He wanted them, both of them, more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life.
He should be furious at her. He'd been more than content before she came along, perfectly satisfied with his life, who he was, what he was. He'd taken each day in stride, enjoying the moment before moving on to the next. Nothing ever rattled him for more than a few hours, nothing ever got under his thick skin.
Until Maggie. She'd gotten under his skin, then deeper, into his heart, his soul. Into that place inside himself where no one had ever gone before, where he'd never let anyone in. A place that a frightened, lonely, ten-year-old boy had closed off long ago.
The diamond in his hand winked at him. He stared at it for a long moment, then closed his hand around the velvet box. The lid snapped shut like a trap, echoed in the quiet of the room. Today was career day at Wolf River Elementary. His chest tightened as he remembered Drew asking him to come and talk, even though he wasn't his dad.
What would Drew say, Nick wondered, if he told him that he wanted to make a career out of being his dad? That he wanted to marry his mom and spend the rest of their lives together?
Releasing a long, deep breath, he slipped the box back into the drawer and reached for a mug, poured himself a cup of thick, black coffee and began to prepare himself for what was about to be the most important day of his life.
Â
“How do I look?”
“Fishing for a compliment, Santos?” Maggie smoothed the collar of Nick's navy button-up shirt, not because it needed it, but because she couldn't resist touching him.
They stood backstage in the Wolf River Elementary auditorium. Maggie had already spoken about her job as a journalist and writer, then they'd listened to a librarian, a rancher and an ear, nose and throat doctor. The current speaker, an accountant, had the children squirming in their seats and whispering amongst themselves. Nick was the final speaker, and Maggie was certain that Miss Perry had saved the best for last.
“How 'bout a kiss for luck, then?” Nick lowered his face to Maggie's. Frowning, she pushed him back with the palm of her hand on his chest.
“There are children present. Behave yourself.”
He straightened with a sigh, then lowered his voice and leaned close again. “Okay, so how 'bout we go over to my place after we're done here?”
A shiver slithered up her spine at his suggestive tone. She shook her head. “I'm taking my father to the doctor at eleven, then having lunch with Julianna.”
“It's only ten o'clock,” he whispered seductively. “We have time to...”
Maggie held her breath as he whispered, in detail, what he had in mind. Heat flooded through her veins, warmed her skin under the cool beige silk pantsuit she wore. In spite of herself, in spite of where they were, she felt her body respond.
“Nick Santos!”
At Miss Perry's call, Maggie jumped, then stepped quickly back, feeling as if she'd been caught playing hanky-panky on school grounds. But Miss Perry, an attractive brunette with big blue eyes, had her gaze locked on to Nick and had barely acknowledged Maggie's presence.
“You're next, Nick.” Miss Perry beamed at him. “The children are all so excited that you're here.”
The children weren't the only ones excited, Maggie thought irritably as the pretty teacher batted her eyes. Good heavens, did the woman have to be so obvious? But then, Maggie realized with more than a twinge of understanding, what woman didn't react that way to Nick?
Maggie didn't want to think about all the women like Miss Perry, whom Nick would turn his attention to after she was gone. It was difficult enough that she would be leaving next week, why torment herself with thoughts of Nick with other women? She'd promised herself that she would live in the moment, enjoy the time they had together, and even if it killed her, dammit, that was exactly what she intended to do.
“Oh, Maggie,” Miss Perry said, as if she suddenly realized that she and Nick weren't alone. “We're taping the speakers today as a little memento for each
child. Would you mind checking the volume, then turning it on Record after I introduce Nick?”
“Sure.” Maggie smiled, took the cassette recorder the teacher handed her and resisted the urge to scowl at the woman when she took Nick's arm and led him away. The accountant was still speaking, something about the thrill of learning to balance checkbooks, when Miss Perry came out and asked if there were any questions. There weren't. While the teacher thanked the man, Maggie tested the volume on the cassette player, set it to record and placed it on a chair at the edge of the stage.
When she looked up again, Nick caught her eye and winked. He was incorrigible, she thought, shaking her head. Uncontrollable and unpredictable. And for the next few days, she thought with a mixture of pleasure and grief, he was all hers.
“All right, children.” Miss Perry raised her hands to quiet the room. “Everyone please pay attention now. Drew Hamilton has asked a special friend to come visit with us today, and we need to be on our best behavior while he's speaking. Can we all say good morning to Mr. Santos?”
“Good morning, Mr. Santos,” over two hundred small voices echoed in the auditorium as Nick stepped up to the microphone. When he cupped a hand to his ear and told the kids he couldn't hear them, they all screamed louder, making the sound system reverberate. When he grabbed his chest and stumbled backward, the children howled with laughter.
Ham,
Maggie thought as she rolled her eyes. Not that she was surprised. After all, he'd raced and performed exhibitions in front of thousands, been on the cover of at least half a dozen high-profile magazines
and posed for at least two well-known clothes manufacturers. Nick Santos was not a shy man.
What he was, was sexy, charming, fun and drop-dead handsome. A dangerous combination for any man, but for Nick, it was downright deadly.
She watched him clown it up for the kids, describe how he'd turned something he'd enjoyed doing into a job. He stressed that money shouldn't be the reason you choose a job, but that first and most important, you should like what you do. That if you liked your job, it would be fun and never feel like work.
Her own job felt like work, she realized. Thomas had been calling twice daily, and even though she enjoyed what she did, the thought of going back to the chaos of her office made her head ache.
Almost as much as her heart ached.
She moved to the edge of the stage, just inside the curtains, and scanned the room until she found Drew. He had a wide smile on his face, his big eyes were glued onto the man speaking at the microphone. Her son adored Nick, talked about him endlessly. She knew how hard it was going to be on him when they left.
She felt the moisture in her eyes, blinked it away. It was bad enough she'd let herself fall in love with Nick all over again, but she'd dragged Drew in, as well. That was unforgivable.
Almost as unforgivable that she'd kept father and son apart all these years.
Since that day on the mountaintop, she'd known she had to tell Nick the truth. She realized that he might never speak to her again, that he might refuse to claim Drew as his own, but she couldn't lie to him anymore. Drew and Nick both deserved a chance. They both deserved
to make their own choices. She had to accept whatever the consequences might be.
Coward that she was, she'd planned on waiting until the day before she and Drew were leaving. There would be anger, she was certain of it, and she didn't want Drew exposed to the turmoil or confusion.
But as she watched Nick banter with the kids, watched him point to Drew and say hello, then Drew's excited wave back, she knew she couldn't wait. If Nick believed her, if he accepted Drew as his own, then the next few days would be important to both Nick and Drew as father-son time. She couldn't take that away from him, no matter how frightened she was of the outcome. There was no question in her mind that it was too late for Nick and her, but there might still be a chance for Drew and Nick.
He was talking about the importance of school and an education when she turned away on shaky knees. She couldn't face him now, she needed a little time by herself before she took her father to the doctor. Time to think, to find the right words.
She prayed her words would be the right ones.
Â
Nick gave the motorcycle full throttle on the last stretch before he turned into the parking lot of his shop. For good measure, he popped a wheelie, then spun three figure eights before sliding sideways ten feet through a wide shallow puddle. Water sprayed, a flock of sparrows scattered. The motorcycle stopped six inches from the entrance.
Damn, but he was in a good mood.
And why shouldn't he be? He'd had his first school function as a dadâwell,
almost
a dadâand he was about to ask the woman he loved to marry him. It was
the same feeling he'd always had before every race. That same nerves-on-edge, adrenaline-pumping, firein-his-gut feeling.
He always went into every race absolutely knowing that he would win. Asking Maggie to marry him would be no different, he decided. She'd say yes. She
had
to say yes. He couldn't think any other way.
He knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate on his work now, even though he was three weeks behind and had customers screaming at him. They could go somewhere else if they didn't like it.
He looked at his watch. Damn. It was only ten forty-five. Their dinner reservations weren't until eight, and he wouldn't pick Maggie up until seven forty-five. What the hell was he supposed to do for nine hours? He felt the power of the motorcycle under him, thought about riding into the mountains. That would burn off some of this energy, calm him down and give a little balance to his spinning world.
He sighed heavily and tugged off his helmet. No, he couldn't go into the mountains. Now that he'd taken Maggie there, he'd only think of her. She'd be with him, whispering over his shoulder, and he'd want her so badly he'd go crazy.