you listen closely.”
He pulled off the road and cut the engine. “Let’s see,” he told her, throwing his long legs out of the streamlined car.
She followed him down to the banks of the sky-blue lake and stood listening to the faint sloshing of the water at the shoreline, to the sound of the tall trees brushing each other in the breeze, to the far away baying of a hound.
She closed her eyes and she could almost see men in buckskins carrying flintlock rifles, on their way to check their trap lines. The air smelled of trees and water and bark and growing things, and her heart swelled.
“Daydreaming?”
She smiled as she opened misty eyes. “Sort of,” she confessed.
“Picturing it as a site for a fashion show?” he chided.
She drew in a deep, slow breath, bending down to pick a blade of grass and worry it with her long fingers. “Actually, I was thinking about the men who settled this country,” she said, “and the hardships they had to endure. There’s so much history here.”
“I know. I wasn’t aware that you knew, however.”
Her dark eyes were accusatory as they met his. “I do occasionally think of things other than expensive clothes and cameras. That part of my life exists only in New York. On campus, I’m a student and a restaurant employee. Here, I’m just me.”
“Are you?” He wasn’t wearing his ranch hat, and his thick, blond hair was caught by the wind, falling carelessly onto his broad forehead as he stared down at her.
She met his piercing gray eyes squarely and felt the breath pour out of her at the impact.
The old tension was back between them, as suddenly, as unexpectedly, as it had been the night before when Jenna opened the door of King’s den. Her heart fluttered like a wild bird as she stood there, feeling the nearness of his big body with every nerve in her own.
His eyes dropped to her neckline where the pale blue blouse crossed over her breasts. Because of the thin camisole straps, she hadn’t bothered with a bra, and she could see King’s eyes, intent and curious on the thin fabric.
“This bloody thing has haunted me all afternoon,” he ground out, moving a step closer, his voice deep and slow. “Are you wearing anything at all under it?”
“King!” she burst out, breathless.
“Just like a woman,” he grumbled, reaching out to catch her shoulders and draw her closer, “to wear something that drives a man around the bend and then be shocked when he notices it.”
“I didn’t...didn’t wear it to drive you around any bends,” she protested.
“Didn’t you, Teddi bear?” he murmured. One big hand pressed against her back, urging her close, while the other slid deftly, expertly, under one strap of the camisole blouse, making exquisite sensations where it touched the silken flesh of her shoulder, her collarbone.
“Your skin feels like velvet,” he whispered. His fingers spread out, warm and hard and faintly calloused, lifting so that the blouse and her bare flesh parted company and the breeze touched her like a lover’s hand.
She gasped, trembling, as his fingers edged nearer to one small, taut breast.
“Look at me,” he breathed gruffly, his voice so commanding that she instantly obeyed it. “I want to watch you.”
“King...” she whispered his name, not knowing if it was a protest or a plea.
“I’ve wanted to touch you like this until I ache with it,” he whispered, letting his eyes drop to the silky blouse, deliberately lifting the edge to reveal the pale, hard-tipped breasts to his fiery eyes.
She heard his intake of breath and knew in that instant that she was lost, that he could take anything he wanted and there was no way on earth she could stop him....
Her shocked eyes met his, her lips parted under a rush of breath. His hand began to move and he watched the wildness burn in her eyes as their gazes locked. She was spellbound, her heart throbbing as she tensed, waiting helplessly for the agonizingly slow descent of his hard,
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