Country Roads (19 page)

“Then I will speak with Mrs. Arbuckle by telephone.”

“All right, but let me tell her to expect you.” She softened her voice. “Remember when Claire took my paintings for her New York gallery? We were both so excited. This is a wonderful way to thank her for believing in my work.”

“You feel this is the right way to repay her?”

He had to jab at her with his doubt again. She was almost grateful when a spurt of anger ripped through her. “She and I have total confidence in the
Night Mares
.”

“An hour, and then I will call.”

A thought struck her. “Please don’t mention my epilepsy to her.”

The silence drew out before her uncle spoke again. “I wondered that she would put you in such a stressful situation, given your condition.”

She had to convince him not to expose her secret to Claire. “Even if you don’t believe I’m cured, you always told me not to share the information with anyone in the art world. Claire is well connected; someone might find out.” Not for a moment did Julia believe Claire would reveal a secret she was asked to keep, but Carlos didn’t know that.

“And you will come home right after the reception?”

“Two days after it. I promised to donate a painting to a charity auction the following night. Claire thinks my presence will push the painting’s value up. It’s for a good cause.”

Her voice had taken on a pleading note, despite her efforts to sound firm and in control. That’s what her uncle could do to her.

“I will stay until Sunday to take you home,” Carlos said.

Now he wanted to intrude on her last night with Paul.
How had everything gotten so complicated?
She squared her shoulders and cleared her throat, injecting all the authority she could into her tone. “Thank you, but I’ve already arranged my transportation home.”

“I see.” He sounded more sorrowful than mad, which made her feel worse.

She gave him the gallery’s phone number and bid him a terse good-bye.

Walking over to the sofa, she flopped onto it, tilting her head over the back and crooking her arm over her eyes as she tried to untangle the threads of the conversation. Her uncle was upset that she discounted his opinion of her
Night Mares
, but he was also genuinely worried the stress of the reception would cause a seizure. His concern was real and it undermined her ability to hold on to her anger. He had hurt her deeply, but he also loved her and it tore at her to cause him pain in return.

She pulled her arm away from her face. With all Carlos’s pressuring, she’d almost missed something: when she’d told her uncle not to come to Sanctuary, he’d backed down and shifted to
telephoning Claire. She couldn’t help feeling a small spurt of triumph. Maybe she just needed to treat Carlos more like Darkside: show strength, hide fear. Except her uncle was far more difficult to handle than the stallion.

Paul walked up the creaky wooden steps of the former Plants ’N Pages. Julia had asked him for a ride out to Healing Springs Stables so she could soak up more artistic inspiration. Peering through the screen door, he saw her in front of an easel, frowning and working a brush through a rag. Her hair was wound up into a lopsided knot, her face was smudged with white paint and charcoal, and all he wanted to do was tackle her onto the ratty velvet couch shoved in a corner of the empty shop.

He cleared his throat as he opened the door. Julia jumped and turned her head, a wide smile banishing the unhappy stare. “Thank God! I have artist’s block or something.”

In two strides he was behind her, pulling her soft curves against him. He nuzzled his face against her neck. “You smell delicious.”

“The only thing I smell like is gesso and turpentine.”

“Eau de Artiste,” he said, enjoying the feel of her warm body in his arms. “My favorite fragrance.”

“Mmm, I’m a fan of Legal Eagle,” she said with a shimmy that had him tightening his grip on her waist.

Needing a distraction, he looked over her shoulder at the easel. It held a canvas about two feet by two feet, its surface a bright, unsullied white. He glanced downward to where the legs of the easel stood in a drift of sheets of drawing paper covered with roughed-in drawings of horses. “Tough day at the office, eh?” he said.

She huffed out a breath. “I’ve never had this problem before. There was always something that wanted to be on the canvas.”

He felt tension pulling her away from him. “Maybe your brain is just overloaded with new images.” He tried for a deep, seductive tone as he added, “And new sensations.”

He cast a thankful glance skyward as she relaxed back into him. “That makes sense,” she said. “And there’s my biggest distraction. You.” She turned and plastered herself against him, wrapping her arms around him and murmuring his name. A quick wash of gratification at her last words was swamped by a stronger reaction to the press of her pliant body against him.

He’d been interested in the couch before, but now he was more focused on the counter. It was closer. He straightened so her feet came off the floor and walked them both over to where he could lift her higher to seat her on the linoleum. She opened her knees and he stepped into the space between her thighs. As he slid his hands up under her T-shirt and circled his thumbs over her already hard nipples, he heard the click of paintbrushes hitting the tile floor. Her head fell back, and he ran his lips up the exposed arch of her throat to take her mouth again.

He felt her fingers at the buttons of his shirt, and then her hands were on his bare chest and his rib cage and his abdomen, her warm, exploratory touch making his erection harder and harder. When she pulsed her hips against him, he passed the point of no return.

Her jeans and panties hit the floor, and he unzipped his fly to roll on a condom in record time. He had just enough brain left to make sure she was ready, although touching her wet heat nearly sent him off. Then he thrust inside her, his hands filled with the delicious curve of her buttocks as he held her at the edge of the counter.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she pushed her hips into his thrusts, so he went deep every time. He freed one of his hands to slide his finger down between them so he could add to her sensations.

“Paul! Oh yes, there! Oh please, more!” She went completely still for a long moment, and then she screamed and convulsed around him, her muscles clenching and relaxing, clenching and relaxing.

He gritted his teeth against the urge to finish, waiting until he felt the tension in her body soften slightly. Then he withdrew and surged in once more and joined her in a climax that left his body wrung out and his mind wiped blank.

She slumped against him, her body racked with tiny shudders. He wrapped his arms around her back protectively and savored the aftereffects.

“Paul?” Her breath tickled against his chest.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He kissed the top of her head.

“I think you melted every bone in my body.” She shifted in his arms. “Oh dear, I got charcoal on your shirt. I didn’t realize my hands were dirty.”

“You’re welcome to get charcoal on my one and only Armani suit as long as it leads to this.”

“So you’re not mad?”

Disbelief turned to laughter as it worked its way up his throat. “I walked in here expecting to have a nice chat and instead I get mind-blowing sex. What exactly do I have to be mad about?”

She huffed out a giggle against his bare skin. Incredibly, he could feel a faint stirring between his legs. He decided it was time to put a few inches of distance between them. Gently lowering Julia backward so she lay on the counter, he grabbed a paper towel from the roll on the counter and disposed of the condom. Then he picked up her panties and slipped them up her legs, sliding his hand under her behind and lifting her upward to tug the peach-colored satin into place.

“I love the feel of your hands against my skin.”

He froze as her words seemed to stroke down his chest and lower with almost the same impact her fingers had earlier. “If you
say things like that, your panties are going to come right back off,” he said.

“I wouldn’t mind as long as you did all the work.” She heaved herself up onto her elbows, her T-shirt still bunched above the lacy bra that matched her panties. He hadn’t had time to appreciate her lingerie until now. The color made her skin look even creamier.

“Peaches and cream,” he said.

“You like my new undies? I just bought them this morning.”

“I like that they don’t cover up much.” He took another step backward, shoving his hands into his pockets to stop himself from reaching for the swell of her breasts again.

He cursed the streak of chivalry that made him turn away from such blatant temptation. Why couldn’t he just be a self-centered jerk and take her up on her offer of a repeat performance? Why did he have to care that she get pleasure from it too?

He pivoted away from her. “You should get dressed before I do something ungentlemanly.”

W
HERE
’
S
D
ARKSIDE?
” J
ULIA
asked one of the grooms as she and Paul walked into the barn hand in hand. She still couldn’t believe she had sprawled across a counter in broad daylight, naked from the breasts down while a man she’d known for two days came inside her. When she thought about it rationally, she knew she should be shocked, but it all seemed natural for this new person she’d become in Sanctuary. She had less than a week before she went back to being wrapped in lamb’s wool, so she’d better enjoy her liberation, and that included seeing her whisper horse.

“Out in the paddock. He spent the night there because he was such a pain in the a—er, neck that the boss said to leave him.”

“Darkside?” Paul frowned. She felt his grip tighten. “What do you want with a horse who tried to tear your arm off?”

“I just want to take some pictures of him.” Julia knew he wouldn’t approve of her escapade with Darkside yesterday. Hopefully, no one would mention it to him. “He looks just like my
Night Mares
, you know.”

“Hey, Julia, Paul! I thought I heard that souped-up gas guzzler you drive come up the road.” Sharon strode toward them, wearing her usual outfit of polo shirt, britches, and paddock boots. “Can I get some legal advice since you’re here? I just got this contract in from the Laurels. They want me to board a bunch of polo ponies for a match that’s being played later this summer. I don’t want to sign anything without you taking a gander at it.”

Paul hesitated. Julia gently disengaged her hand from his. “You go ahead with Sharon. I’ll meet you in her office.”

“Don’t get too close to Darkside,” he warned. “Next time he might get your skin instead of your sleeve.”

Julia caught the narrow-eyed look Sharon gave them and hurried to say, “I’ll pay attention this time.” She couldn’t fault him for his protectiveness; after all, only his quick reaction had saved her arm from Darkside’s teeth. Still, he wasn’t going to keep her from her whisper horse.

She watched Paul and Sharon’s well-matched strides as they walked away together. Just as she was about to head for the paddock, Sharon looked back over her shoulder and gave Julia a wink.