When it was empty, he set the cup aside. “Lie back down beside me,” he said. “I don’t want you to go just yet.”
She didn’t hesitate as she spread out beside him. They lay in silence for a while, then he said, “I heard what you told Dan.”
“That I like you?”
“Yes. And that we’re just friends.”
He rolled to his side and placed his hand on her middle. “I don’t think it’s true,” he whispered. “I think you feel about me the way I feel about you. Neither of us is looking for love, but we’ve learned to trust each other. And there is something between us, pulling us closer.”
“Maybe,” she protested. “I do like being near you.”
“No,” he answered. “I think it’s more than that even if neither of us wants to admit it. We went beyond just partners the first time you kissed me. What I feel for you is deeper than like.”
“I don’t think so,” she whispered. She couldn’t admit more, not after only three days. Not when she’d be leaving tomorrow and she might never see him again. “When you win tonight, we’ll split the money and go our separate ways. All we can be is partners, Rowdy.”
“No, we’re already more,” he answered as his fingers brushed lightly over the cotton of her blouse. “If your feelings aren’t running deep right now with me touching you, then move away. We may not feel love, but I’m definitely attracted to you.”
He wasn’t holding her, only touching her. His hand slid up between her breasts and began unbuttoning her blouse. “Because if you don’t run, Laurel, I’m going to touch you as no one else has ever touched you. If I don’t, I’ll regret it the rest of my life.” He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers.
“There is no time,” she mumbled as she answered his kiss with one of her own.
The kiss was so tender she wanted to cry. She felt the first button give way to his fingers.
“Make love with me, Laurel,” he whispered against her ear.
She was too shy to say the words, but her kiss answered his question. As they kissed she felt him pulling buttons free, then tugging her blouse from the band of her riding skirt.
When he felt the layer of her camisole, he raised his head. “How many layers do you have on?”
She laughed. “Only one more.”
“Good.” He frowned. “I’d really like to see what I touched last night.”
She turned her head away from him, too embarrassed to look at him. “I’m not—” She couldn’t even say the words. Her body curled away from him.
Forgetting about the camisole, he gripped her shoulder and pulled her back. “Not what?” he asked.
“I’m not the kind of woman men want. I’m smart. I can keep books, but that’s about all.”
He swore and she felt his anger, not at her, but at what she believed. Finally, he calmed down and tugged her chin so that she had to look at him. “Look, Laurel, I don’t care if you can count and, as for being smart, I’ve begun to question that since you started hanging around with the likes of me. And about being the kind of woman men want, I can’t speak for all men, but you are exactly what I want.”
“You do? How?”
He sat up and shoved his hair back, then winced at the pain. He took a long breath and said, “I thought you would have figured it out by now, but I’ll explain so that there will be no misunderstanding between us.” He met her gaze and held it. “I want you in my arms. I want you in my bed. I want to be so close that we share air and so deep inside you I forget there is a world other than with you.”
“Oh,” she said, sitting up to face him.
He laughed. “You know for a smart girl, you surprise me. Or maybe I’ve had too little practice to get my feelings across. I don’t suppose you want the same thing?”
She raised her chin. “I might. What did you have in mind?”
He glanced at the sun coming in the open door. “I would say we do everything right here, right now, but your father will be sending a hunting party for you any minute. How about we start now and finish tonight at the hotel? I don’t want to be interrupted.”
“All right.” She could feel her nerves jumping. “What do we