Fall Into You (23 page)

Hell, based on how he was feeling at this moment, he may not want to ever share her
again.

Charli listened to Grant wrap up the demonstration with only half an ear. Her arms
were still bound behind her, her breasts no doubt jutting forth for all to see, but
she couldn’t find it in herself to care. The audience’s presence had melted away in
her mind. Grant’s steady voice, his sure hands as he tied the ropes, the feel of his
callused fingers brushing over her skin, his scent…Those were the only things she
could focus on. And with each passing minute, her body’s awareness of him became more
and more acute.

His slow footsteps sounded in her ears and she stretched her fingers, wishing she
could reach out and touch him, explore. He stopped in front of her, his pant leg brushing
her knee, then his voice was close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheeks.
“We’re all alone again, Charlotte.”

He untied the blindfold and she blinked at him, the sudden light leaving spots in
her vision. “They’re gone?”

He was squatting in front of her, want in his eyes. “You didn’t hear all that commotion
as everyone left?”

She shook her head, still feeling a bit dazed.

He smiled and cupped her breast, circling his thumb around the tip and making her
shiver. “So you
can
lose yourself to it.” Deep satisfaction colored his tone. “You’re getting a taste
of subspace, freckles. I hope to bring you there often.”

She didn’t know what the term meant, but if he kept caressing her nipple like that,
she wasn’t going to be able to remember her name in a second.

He rose off his haunches and moved around behind her. “Let me get you out of this,
then I’m taking you where I can have you all to myself.”

“Sounds like an excellent plan.”

After he removed all of the ropes, he slipped her robe back on her shoulders and tied
the belt around her waist. “Be right back.”

He left her there while he went into the staging room. When he returned a few minutes
later, he was wearing jeans and boots and holding the bag he’d asked her to pack this
morning. He held it out to her. “You’re allowed to put on panties and shoes for now.
My dungeon isn’t in this building. We have to go outside.”

She raised her eyebrows, but took the bag and followed his instructions, slipping
on a pair of simple black panties beneath the robe and toeing on her ballet flats.
“Okay.”

He grabbed her hand and kissed the top of it. “Our chariot awaits, sweet Charlotte.”

Chariot? She had no idea what he meant by that, but as he led her down a few hallways
and out a side door, the last thing she’d expected was standing outside waiting for
them—waiting and…chuffing. “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Grant gave a hearty laugh. “Watch your mouth, freckles. Maggie here will be offended.”

The horse turned a big eye on Charli, while Grant ran an affectionate hand down Maggie’s
blue-black flank. “Sorry, it’s just I’m not exactly dressed for horseback riding.”

Grant checked Maggie’s saddle, then put out a hand to Charli. “You’re fine. It’s warm
enough tonight and it will be quicker than walking. Plus, it’s more fun than the golf
cart.”

With a sigh, she gave Grant her hand, and he helped her get her foot in the stirrup.
He counted to three, then hoisted her up so she could mount the horse. Maggie stirred
beneath her but otherwise seemed totally content with a half-naked stranger climbing
on top of her. Charli snorted.

“What was that for?” Grant asked as he untied the horse from the hitching post.

“Nothing. Just realized Maggie and I have something in common tonight.”

He shook his head. “Yeah, I’m not touching that one.”

With the grace of a man who’d done it a thousand times before, Grant put his boot
in the stirrup and swung his leg over, filling the space behind Charli. The heat of
his chest seared through the thin silk of her robe, making every inch of her reignite
with awareness. He reached around her and grabbed the reins, cocooning her with his
scent. He nuzzled her ear, his voice low. “Hold on, freckles.”

She grabbed onto the saddle horn, and Grant made a soft clicking sound to get Maggie
moving. Charli gripped hard as the horse made its way down the slant in the path.
“Whoa.”

“Relax, darlin’. I’m not going to let you fall.” His thighs pressed
against the outside of hers, reminding her that he had her on all sides.

“Maybe I should mention I’ve never been on a horse.”

He led Maggie away from the main building and toward the back of the property. Cabins
dotted the area to the left, but Grant stayed off the walking paths and instead weaved
along the fences protecting the vineyards. The rows of grapevines seemed to stretch
out forever under the moonlight. “How is it Ms. Rough-and-Tumble has never been horseback
riding?”

She adjusted her grip on the saddle horn, her fingers starting to hurt from grabbing
it so hard. “I grew up in the suburbs. Riding four-wheelers was about as country as
I got.”

“I bet you were damn cute trying to keep up with those brothers of yours.”

She sniffed. “
Cute
would probably not be the most accurate description. And I didn’t get to do those
things with my brothers. My dad was of the lock-daughter-up-until-she’s-twenty mentality.
I’d have to sneak out and play with the neighborhood boys and tell Dad I was playing
with Barbies.”

“What about your mom?”

What about her?
was the first retort that jumped to her lips, but she bit it back, taking a long
breath and staring out at the dark night in front of them. The last thing she wanted
to do was talk about her mother, but she’d asked Grant some prying questions earlier,
and it was only fair that she give him a little honesty, too. “My mom moved to Los
Angeles when I was nine to help my older sister pursue her acting career. I wanted
to go with them and be on TV, too, but mom told me the talent agent said I didn’t
have the right look.”

The muscles in Grant’s forearms twitched as he gripped the reins tighter, but he stayed
silent.

She cleared her throat, trying to move past the lump that always lodged there when
she thought about the day her mom walked out.
“It was supposed to be temporary—my mom living out her own failed dream through my
sister. But my sister landed a part in a kid’s show, and my mother landed a spot in
the director’s bed. They came home the next Thanksgiving, and Mom told Dad she was
leaving him. Us. Neither she nor my sister ever came home again. It was like we didn’t
even exist for her anymore.”

“Wow. That had to be tough for a little girl to understand,” he said, sympathy in
his voice.

“I survived. I’d spent my whole life trying to please her and live up to expectations
I could never seem to reach. So in some ways, it was easier after she left. My dad
was never the same though. She broke his heart, and that broke him. He did a good
job raising us, but the light in him went out the day he found out she was leaving
for good. He was never the same.” She paused, tears threatening. Nothing could make
her lose it quicker than thinking about her daddy. But she pressed her tongue to the
roof of her mouth, an old method she’d learned to keep tears at bay.

“How is he now?”

“He died of cancer my junior year of high school. From diagnosis to gone in only six
months.” Tears did slip out this time. She brushed them away with the back of her
hand. “She didn’t even come home to see him. Me and my brothers took care of him,
watched him fade. Part of me thinks he would’ve been able to fight it if he hadn’t
been so lost without her.”

Grant kissed her shoulder. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I didn’t mean to bring up something
that would upset you.”

She took a few seconds, waiting for the burning sensation of more impending tears
to abate, then rolled her neck, trying to shake off the bad memories. “It’s okay.
It just makes me angry that he wasted the rest of his life loving someone who wasn’t
going to love him back. He was a great man. He could’ve found someone else and had
another chance at being happy.”

Grant turned quiet for a moment, and the only sound was
hooves hitting the packed dirt. She thought he’d ended the discussion, but finally
he said, “Sounds like she was the love of his life. Sometimes there’s no coming back
from that.”

She scoffed. “That’s bullshit. Something doesn’t work out, so you roll over and wait
to die? Screw that.”

“You think moving on is that easy?” Grant shifted in the saddle, and Maggie whinnied
as if sensing the discussion had gone off course. “Have
you
ever been in love, Charli?”

Her jaw clenched—as if she needed a reminder of her piss-poor love life. “You know
I haven’t. But based on what I’ve seen, they can keep it.”

“Oh, really?” She could hear the smile in his voice. The stiffness in his hold on
the reins softened a bit. “You’re too young to be so cynical, you know.”

“Ha! Said the pot to the kettle.”

“I’m not that young, freckles.” He slowed Maggie down a bit and guided her to the
right where a narrow path led to what looked to be a barn. Though it was hard to tell
with only the moonlight. “I come by my cynicism honestly.”

She frowned. She doubted Grant had even crossed into his forties yet, but she had
a feeling he wasn’t talking about his age in years. He’d seen a lot of hurt in his
life; he wore it in his eyes. Part of her wanted to ask him if he’d ever been in love,
but she had a feeling she already knew the answer. And it wouldn’t be a happy story.
She pushed away the melancholy thought and straightened her spine. “Well, good thing
I’m only using you for your body and not trying to woo you then, Mr. Cynical.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is? I feel so cheap.”

She laughed and poked him in the thigh.

He stopped Maggie in front of a fence and, after making sure Charli was still holding
on, dismounted in one fluid motion. He tied the horse to the post, then helped her
with her own awkward disembarkation. She landed with an unladylike
thunk
and almost
toppled onto her butt. He grabbed her waist and held her steady. “Whoa, there.”

“Thanks,” she said, the near tumble and the look he was giving her enough to make
her breathless. “Grace isn’t my forte.”

“Stop being so hard on yourself.” He pushed her hair away from her face, looking down
at her with a serious expression. “And yes, I’m cynical. But it hurts me to hear you
be that way. You’ve got too much passion and too much life to live to be so jaded
already.”

“And you don’t?”

His thumb brushed her lips, and a shade of sadness crossed his features. “I’m living
the life that works for me. I have everything I need.”

She looked back toward the main house, which was only a few squares of light from
this distance. Of course he had everything he needed—a beautiful home and property,
all the money he could want, and gorgeous women lining up to be with him. Most men
would switch places with him in a second. But she sensed a deep loneliness behind
his words.

She stepped closer and wound her arms around his waist, wishing she could peek inside
her cowboy’s brain. “But what about what you want?”

His lips curved a bit as he stared down at her. “Right now what I want is rubbing
her body up against me and making me forget what we were talking about.”

She laughed, loving that he could make her feel like a vixen with a few simple words.
“I’m that distracting, huh?”

“You have no idea, freckles.” He grabbed her by the backs of her thighs and hoisted
her up, hooking her legs around his hips. “I’ve imagined getting you in my dungeon
more times than I’d care to admit. Have imagined all the fun things I could do with
this sexy body of yours.”

She couldn’t help the
yeah, right
snort that escaped her. “Sexy body? There are twelve-year-olds who have more curves
than me.”

His gaze turned lethal. “That just earned you a punishment, Charlotte. I’m getting
real tired of you dismissing my compliments.”

She winced. “I’m sorry. It’s just…”

He set her down on her feet, cutting off her words, and grabbed her upper arm, the
light mood from a moment before gone. “Let’s go.”

He led her away from Maggie and toward the wooden building looming against the dark
skyline. “Where are you taking me?”

“My dungeon, Charlotte,” he said, his words clipped. “I’m going to make sure you never
doubt what I say about you again.”