Sun Kissed

After wolfing down a sandwich and an apple, Samantha was too exhausted to go back over to the stable. Her bones ached, her head felt muzzy, and she could barely lift her feet. The last time she’d slept had been on a cot at the equine center. She wasn’t sure how many hours—or days—ago that had been, only that she’d reached a point beyond exhaustion and absolutely had to get some rest, preferably in her own bed for a change.

  Fortunately, she actually felt safe in allowing herself that luxury with Nona Redcliff overseeing the surveillance of her ranch that night. Nona struck her as a person who took great pride in her performance.

  After setting the house alarm system and calling her father to assure him she’d remembered to do so, Samantha knotted her hair atop her head, poured herself a glass of chilled white zinfandel, and wearily climbed the stairs. Once in the master suite, which she’d completely redone after the divorce to please her own simple tastes in decor, she began filling the jetted tub in the adjoining bathroom with piping-hot water, then stripped off her clothes and flung them over the juniper saddle tree in one corner of the bedroom. A neck-deep bubble bath, white wine, and the soothing fragrance of lighted lavender candles were sure to help her relax.

  She sighed and closed her eyes as the hot water reached her chin. An image of Cilantro flashed in her mind, and she felt a brief stab of sadness, but it was just as quickly gone, replaced by a vision of Tucker’s face. She thought of how his eyes darkened to the color of blue steel when he was concerned about a patient, and then she thought of his devastating grin, which always filled her with warmth. Then she remembered that afternoon at the river when he’d almost kissed her.

  How would it feel to have Tucker’s mouth on hers? She instinctively knew he’d start out gently, soothing away all her nervousness before he deepened the kiss. She imagined putting her hands on his shoulders, how all that warm strength and vibrant muscle would bunch under her fingertips. And then she fantasized about having his hands caressing her skin.

  Her eyes blinked open. Imagining kissing him was all well and fine, but anything more than that was pretty much uncharted territory for her. Steve hadn’t been a touchy-feely person. He’d made love to her as if it were a chore that he wanted to finish as quickly as possible. On her wedding night it had hurt terribly, because she’d been a virgin and wasn’t aroused. After that, she’d followed Dee Dee’s advice and never gone to bed without first using a personal lubricant. That had suited Steve’s purposes just fine. When and if he wanted sex, which hadn’t been often, he’d never wanted to engage in foreplay first.

  Shame rose in her throat, thick and suffocating, as she recalled their couplings. It was humiliating for a woman to be intimate with a man who didn’t find her desirable. Thinking back, she couldn’t remember a single thing about her body that Steve had liked: small boobs, knobby knees, and protruding hip bones, which he’d always claimed poked him. And then there’d been his drinking to make matters worse. More than once he’d passed out on top of her immediately after ejaculating.

  Maybe it wouldn’t be that way with Tucker. He’d almost kissed her that afternoon at the river. She felt certain of that. Didn’t it follow that he must be attracted to her? But what if he only thought he was and changed his mind after he saw her naked? The possibility made her cringe.

  Why was she worrying about it, anyway? Dumb, dumb, dumb. It wasn’t as if he’d given her any recent indication that he was thinking along those lines. So she shouldn’t be either. It’d be awful if he wasn’t interested and he realized she was. Or might be, she revised. She wasn’t sure yet. Entering into another relationship would be a huge step for her, and then there was her faith to complicate matters. Engaging in sex before marriage was a mortal sin, not something she took lightly.

  Sigh. Better to just not think about it. Tucker probably didn’t even think of her in that way. She might have read more into his expression than had been there that day at the river. Maybe he hadn’t been staring at her mouth at all. She could have had mud on her nose—or a string of algae on her upper lip. Just because a man appeared to be staring at a woman’s mouth didn’t necessarily mean he was about to kiss her, right? Right.

  After soaking for over an hour and finishing the glass of wine, Samantha expected to feel drowsy, but she didn’t. She was so exhausted she felt wired, too weary to accomplish anything useful, but too innervated to fall asleep. More wine, she decided. If another glass didn’t help, maybe the whole bottle would do the trick.

  She left the tub, toweled off, and drew on a white terry robe before going downstairs. Once in the kitchen, she went directly to the refrigerator, plucked the white zinfandel from the shelf, and moved to the table, bottle and goblet clasped in her hands. After refilling her glass, she sank down on a chair to leaf through an equine supply catalog that had come that day in the mail. She was staring sadly at a horse blanket eerily similar to Cilantro’s when a loud knock at the door made her leap to her feet.

  A glance at the windows told her it was fully dark outside. She checked her watch, saw that it was twenty after nine, and frowned. Jerome knew how exhausted she was and wouldn’t dream of disturbing her unless it was an emergency. A chill of dread crawled up her spine as she went to the door.

  “Who is it?”

  “Tucker. You got a minute to talk?”

  Samantha’s gaze dropped to her robe. “I, um…I’m not really dressed for company.”

  “You don’t need to make a fashion statement, honey. I just want to talk.”

  She tugged the collar of the robe close around her throat. “All I’m wearing is a robe, Tucker, and I’m naked underneath.”

  Long silence. “Totally naked?”

  Of course, totally.

  When she didn’t answer his question, he said, “I’m sorry for coming so late. I had to take Tabasco’s blood sample back to town.” She heard his boots shuffle on the porch and imagined him shifting his weight to one leg, a habit of his when he grew frustrated. “Are you using the robe as an excuse not to let me in?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because you’re pissed at me about that report.”

  If that wasn’t the silliest thing she’d ever heard. She started to tell him as much, but he cut her off.

  “Filing that damned thing was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. You have to believe that. Practically every word implicated you.” Another long silence. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion. “I’m in love with you, Sam. I think you already know that, but just in case you don’t, there you have it. I’m in love with you.”

  She disengaged the dead bolt and jerked open the portal. He seemed to fill the entire doorway. He wore no jacket to protect him against the cool night air, only a blue shirt, jeans, and dusty boots. In the glow of the porch lights he was the epitome of tall, dark, and treacherously handsome, his shoulders thick and broad, his tanned forearms, extending below his rolled-back shirtsleeves, roped with powerful tendons.

  “You’re what?”

  His gaze plummeted from her face to the vee of her collar. “You really are wearing a robe.”

  “Well, of course I’m wearing a robe. Why would I lie about something like that? And don’t change the subject. What did you just say?”

  “When?”

  “Just before I opened…” She saw the glint of mischief in his eyes. “You know precisely when. Did I or did I not hear you say—”

  “That I love you?” he interrupted. “Absolutely not. You were imagining things. I am far too suave and sophisticated to ever tell a woman something like that through a closed door.” He stepped onto the threshold and rested one muscular arm against the door frame. Even as his beautiful mouth tipped into a grin, his eyes went dark and serious, just as they always did when he was deeply worried. “Please don’t hate me for filing that report. I had no choice, honestly I didn’t, and I’m sorrier than you can know that the police are breathing down your neck because of it.”

  “How do you know the police are—??
??

  “Your dad. He called to give me hell. Well, not really. He was actually pretty understanding after I explained that I was obligated by law to report the poisonings. But he was pretty pissed when we first started talking.”

  “Daddy always gets pissed when anything threatens me. I hope you didn’t take him too seriously.”

  She thought about grabbing him by the front of his shirt, dragging him farther into the house, and kissing him. It was madness. For starters, she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothes under the robe, and there were still all the dos and don’ts of her faith to worry about. But it wasn’t every day a man said he loved her, either, and she was positive she hadn’t imagined it.

  His gaze moved slowly over her face. Then it dropped lower. When he met her gaze again, he said, “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever clapped eyes on. Have I ever mentioned that?”

  And then, as if she’d willed him to do it, he stepped into her kitchen and shut the door. She could tell by his expression that he meant to kiss her. Her heart started to pound. Her knees started to shake. She was finally going to find out how it would feel to have his mouth touch hers.

  He cupped her face between his big hands, moving his thumbs lightly over her cheekbones in a feathery caress. When she looked into his eyes, her breath caught in her throat. His face drew closer, and then closer yet, until his features blurred and she could feel his breath on her lips. He smelled of coffee and mints, horses and male muskiness, and fresh night air. With gentle fingers, he loosened her hair and gathered it into his hands.

  Just as their lips touched—just as she curled her hands over his shoulders to enjoy the feel of him—an ear-shattering wail filled the room, the sound so loud and unexpected, they leaped apart.

  “What the hell?”

  She’d been so focused on the kiss that it took her a moment to realize what had happened. “The alarm,” she cried. “I totally forgot!” There was only a gap of a minute and a half before the siren went off after an entry door had been opened. She ran across the room to the panel, but when she got there, she couldn’t remember the new code. “The numbers, what are the numbers?”

  She felt his chest graze her back, felt the heat of him radiating through the terry cloth. He reached over her shoulder, punched in the new code, and then hit number one to shut off the siren. “Blue Blazes’s weight, remember? Thirteen hundred plus.”

  The sudden silence seemed almost as loud as the wailing. Samantha went limp with relief, leaning against him for a second. Then she turned and pressed her back to the wall. “I’m not very good at remembering numbers.”

  “I’m excellent at it,” he said huskily, “so I guess we’re a perfect match.”

  He braced his hands on each side of her, leaned closer, and asked, “Where were we?”

  “I think you were about to kiss me.”

  “I think you’re right,” he whispered, and then covered her mouth with his to finish the job.

  The phone rang. He jerked away again, his eyes stormy. “Damn! I can’t believe this.” He glanced toward the ceiling. “Give me a break, God!”

  Samantha couldn’t believe this was happening, either. “It’s probably the alarm company. Or maybe my dad. It could be one of my brothers, too. They’re all on my emergency list.”

  “Wonderful.” He rested his forehead against hers, the blue of his eyes eclipsing her vision. She felt his chest jerk and heard the low rumble of his laughter. “According to my calculations, we only have five more calls to go.”

  Just then a loud pounding came at the door. “Samantha!” Jerome yelled. “Are you all right?”

  Then they heard Nona say, “Step back, sir. We’re going in.”

  Samantha wondered if she’d been born under an unlucky star. She was twenty-nine years old, and for the first time in her life her body had been throbbing with physical desire. Now it seemed as if half the population of Crystal Falls was either phoning or knocking on her door.

  “Well, hell.” Tucker quickly straightened. “Don’t kick the door down! Everything’s all right. We just forgot to disarm the system.”

  Straightening her robe, Samantha scurried over to the door and drew it open. Backed by three security guards, Jerome stood on her welcome mat, looking like a thundercloud that was about to let loose on all creation. “What the Sam Hill is going on over here?”

  “Nothing.” The phone still rang persistently. Samantha started to answer it, but Tucker forestalled her by saying, “I’ll get it.”

  He strode across the kitchen to lift the portable unit from its base. “Hello, Tucker here.” A moment of silence. “No, she’s all right, Frank. I just dropped by to talk with her, and she forgot to disarm the system after opening the door.” Another silence. “I appreciate that. We’ll handle everything else. Yeah. Good night.”

  Samantha turned a questioning gaze on him as he ended the call.

  “Your father says he’ll call all your brothers to tell them it’s okay. But he’s worried you won’t remember your password. If you can’t, he says to call him.”

  “Of course I remember my password. Does he think I’m an idiot?” Samantha turned back to assure Jerome and Nona that everything was fine. “I’m sorry, Jerome. I was about to go to bed, and Tucker stopped by to—” She broke off and licked her bottom lip. “He, um, had some thing to tell me. Anyway, I forgot about the alarm being set when I opened the door.”

  Nona smiled. “I hoped it was something like that.”

  “You scared the living hell out of me,” Jerome in formed her.

  “I’m sorry.” Samantha looked at Nona. “I’m really so sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten everyone.”

  “Well, all right then.” Jerome squinted to see past her. Then he glanced at her robe. His jaw tightened. “If you’re sure you’re okay, I’ll go back to bed.”

  “I’m perfectly okay.”

  After closing the door, Samantha leaned weakly against it. Meeting Tucker’s gaze, she confessed, “I am an idiot. I don’t remember my password.”

  “You don’t?”

  “In the year we’ve had the system we’ve never tripped the alarm, so I’ve had no occasion to use it.”

  “Well, that’s simple to fix.” He grabbed the phone again and dialed her dad’s number by memory, which she thought was pretty amazing. Seconds later he arched his eyebrows again and gave her a wondering look as he ended the call. “Your password is ‘Just Ducky’?”

  It came to her then. “Yes. That’s it.”

  He returned the phone to its base. “That’s a strange password. How did you come up with it?”

  “When things are fine, don’t you ever say everything is just ducky?”

  “No.”

  “Hmm. It made sense to me at the time.”

  Before he could respond, the phone rang again. He didn’t immediately answer. Instead he smiled slightly, rubbed beside his nose, and said, “I have this really weird feeling.”

  “What kind of feeling?”

  “That it wasn’t meant—Oh, never mind, it’s a stupid thought.”

  He answered the phone, spoke with the woman manning the phones at the security company, and then gave her the password. After listening for a moment, he proffered the phone to Samantha. “She wants to talk to you. I think she’s afraid I have a gun to your head.”

  “A gun to my head?”

  “Yeah. You really need another password to let them know if something like that ever happens.”

  “I can’t remember the password I already have.” She took the phone and spent a full two minutes assuring the woman at the other end of the line that she wasn’t in life-threatening peril.

  When the alarm debacle was finally over, she sank down on a chair at the table, so exhausted that her bones felt as if they’d turned to water. Tucker sat across from her. There was a gentle, indulgent smile in his eyes even though his expression was serious.

  “I love you,” he said, his voice gone gravelly and thick. “Did I happen to ment
ion that?”

  “Why?” she couldn’t resist asking.

  The smile finally reached his mouth, a glamorous smile that dazzled her, making her forget how tired she was. “Because you make me laugh,” he replied. “Because you’re kind and gentle and caring.” He sighed and pushed his fingers through his hair. “You don’t really want to hear all this sappy stuff, do you?”

  “Yes.”

  He chuckled and rocked back on the chair. “The first time I ever clapped eyes on you, I was a goner. You were—” He broke off to think about it, then grinned and said, “Extraordinary. No bigger than a minute, but going toe-to-toe with a mean drunk twice your size. In addition to being brave, you’re beautiful, smart, and loyal. I love everything about you.”

  “I wasn’t mad at you about the report.”

  “I’m getting that.”

  “All you did was tell the truth. How could I be upset about that?”

  He sat forward, the front legs of the chair thumping the floor. “Sometimes the truth is damning. I thought you might feel that I betrayed you.”

  Just the opposite was true. If he’d falsified any of the information on the report, she never would have been able to trust him again. “I admire your honesty, Tucker. I always have. I guess it’s a phobia of mine, but I can’t abide lying, not in any form or for any reason. I’ve been lied to way too many times.”

  He held her gaze. “I’ll never do that to you, and that’s a promise.”

  She believed him, and the realization almost brought tears to her eyes.

  He rubbed a hand over his face and blinked, then rested his folded arms on the table. “I’m sorry I had such miserable timing tonight. I wasn’t expecting all hell to break loose like it did.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” Her heart fluttered into her throat. “Would you like to try again?”

  “I’d like nothing better, but I’ve got this feeling we were interrupted for a reason. I think the Big Guy in the sky is telling me in a very loud way that there are more important matters that require our attention.”

  At that precise moment, she could think of few things more important than finishing that kiss. “Like what?”