First Comes Baby...: The Loner's Guarded Heart (24 page)

Her tank-top outlined a shape that had his hands clenching into fists beneath the table. He’d deliberately angled his chair so he couldn’t see her legs. He knew they were there, though. He bet she’d feel like silk. Warm silk. He wondered if he could ask her to wear something long-sleeved and shapeless next time. And a bag over her head.

Get a grip. He’d lost his marbles. Too much time in her company had addled his brain.

He shifted in his chair. Fat lot of good it’d do him anyway. It wouldn’t matter how many layers she wore, they couldn’t hide the unconscious grace of her hand movements. Even when he closed his eyes against the tug of her body, he could still smell her.

She didn’t even chatter away at him, which was a darn shame because inane chatter always got on his nerves. And if she got on his nerves it might distract him from her more...from other things. But no, he wasn’t to be given even that salve. She sat there, hands folded on the table, eyes intent on the game, perfectly relaxed, perfectly at ease. Perfectly happy to keep her mouth-watering lips curved in a smile without offering up so much as one inane remark.

With something midway between a sigh of frustration and a groan of relief, Kent moved his queen in front of her king. ‘Checkmate.’

Very gently, Josie laid her oak-tree king on its side then looked at all her pieces lined up on Kent’s side of the table. ‘I may not know a great deal about chess, but you just smashed me, didn’t you?’

‘Yep.’

‘I’m pretty terrible, aren’t I?’

‘Yep.’ If he was lucky she might give it up as a bad joke. Especially if he didn’t encourage her.

‘I’ll get better with practice.’

Damn.

She angled her cute little chin at him. Double damn.

She motioned to the chessboard. ‘Do you want any help packing up?’

‘No.’

‘Well, thanks for the game.’ She leapt up and, with a little wave, sauntered off. If Kent didn’t know better he’d swear pique rather than relief needled through him. He opened his mouth to call something after her then snapped it shut.

Seizing the game board, he stomped inside, his shoulders as stiff and wooden as one of his chess pieces.

* * *

‘Which way, Molly?’

Molly panted and pushed herself against Josie’s legs when Josie paused at the juncture of the path, but didn’t indicate which direction she’d prefer.

Josie pursed her lips. They’d explored downriver last week. So, should they cross the river or explore upstream? She lifted her face to the sun, revelling in its warmth, noted the shade on the other side of the river and promptly made her decision. ‘Upriver today, Molly. What do you say?’

Molly’s tail wagged harder, making Josie laugh. If anyone heard the way she spoke to the dog they’d think she was certifiable. She’d begun to look forward to her daily walks, though. They might have started out as a way to kill time, but she could feel her body reaping the benefits of regular exercise. Since she’d been practically housebound for the last few months, it felt good to work her muscles and drag fresh, clean air into her lungs. She’d continue the walks when she got home too.

And she’d get a dog.

She and Molly walked for about ten minutes before the trees started to thin and the river widened and grew shallow, creating a natural ford. Boulders dotted the river and both banks. The splashing of water and the glint of sun off mini-rapids and the pleasant browns and reds of the river stone created a scene that charmed her.

Until she heard a deeper splash immediately up ahead behind another group of boulders.

She didn’t like big noises. That kind of splash indicated an animal at least as big as Molly. Were there wild pigs out here? She didn’t know and didn’t want to find out. She started to back up. ‘C’mon, Molly, time to...’

She didn’t get to finish her sentence because Molly, with a bark, charged ahead. Oh, lord. Josie groaned and took off after her. What on earth would she say to Kent if anything happened to Molly?

No way was she skirting around the boulders as Molly had, though. Josie scrambled on top of them, hoping for a height advantage, readying herself to wave her arms and holler her lungs out in an effort to appear as big and scary as possible to whatever was below.

She wound up for her first holler when... ‘Hello, Josie.’

Josie nearly fell into the river. ‘Kent!’

Below her, Kent trod water in a natural pool formed by the boulders. Something midway between a scowl and a grimace darted across his face. Water glistened off his hair and his tanned, broad shoulders, and Josie’s heart started to pound. She had a startlingly erotic image of licking those water droplets from his body, and the breath hitched in her throat. The water was clear, but the lower portion of his body was hidden by the shadow cast by the boulders.

Good thing!

When Josie didn’t answer him Kent shaded his eyes and stared up at her. He must’ve noticed the colour in her cheeks, the way her eyes bugged, because a slow smile tilted one corner of his mouth. ‘Earth to Josie.’

She started and rushed to cover her confusion. ‘I, umm, heard a splash.’

‘And you decided to investigate?’

‘Umm, no.’ She scrambled down from the boulder before she fell off. From the bank she couldn’t see any part of Kent below the water line, but if she moved a little to her left and took a step forward—

Arghh! She hauled herself back and promptly sat on a rock, and tried to quell the outrageous impulses coursing through her. She wrapped her arms around her knees to stop them trembling. ‘No, umm...’

She grasped around for her train of thought, found it, and started to breathe easier once again. ‘It sounded like a big splash, so I was going to slink back the way I’d come.’ She sent him an apologetic grimace. ‘Afraid I’m not interested in bumping into a hippopotamus or polar bear or anything.’

His smile became a grin. ‘Last time I checked, they didn’t do real well in the Australian wild.’

His grin was infectious. ‘You know what I mean.’ She grinned back. ‘A wild pig or something.’

‘You’re pretty safe around here, but up a tree is a seriously good option if you ever do come across one. OK?’

‘OK.’ She filed the information away.

‘So how come you decided to investigate?’

‘Molly took off up here.’

‘And you figured it was safe?’

She wanted to slap a hand to her forehead. Of course it was safe. Molly was a bigger scaredy cat than Josie. She must’ve smelt Kent or something. She wouldn’t have gone racing off into danger. Josie suddenly felt like the biggest idiot on the planet. ‘Umm,’ she moistened her lips, ‘that’s right.’

Kent threw his head back and laughed. ‘Liar. You thought Molly needed protecting, didn’t you?’

She hitched up her chin. ‘What’s wrong with that?

He shook his head and grinned. ‘Josie, you’re a hopeless case, you know that?’

But he said it so nicely she didn’t care. ‘This is a lovely spot.’ She lifted her face to the sun and glanced around with half-closed eyes, took in the clothes tossed on a nearby rock—shirt, jeans...underpants. Her eyes widened. ‘Are you skinny-dipping, Mr Black?’

‘I most certainly am, Ms Peterson.’

Warmth and wistfulness squirmed through her in equal measure. She bet it was lovely, the cool silk of water flowing over you without impediment. The freedom of it. ‘I’ve never skinny-dipped in my life.’

He smiled challengingly and waggled his eyebrows. ‘Wanna try it?’

He should do that more. Smile. It softened the craggy lines of his face and made him look like a man she could—

Nonsense! Crazy thought. She smiled and settled back on her sun-warmed rock. ‘No, thank you.’ Her smile widened. ‘Though I might take it up as a spectator sport.’

Ooh, yes, definitely some ogling potential here. Not that she needed to see more than his shoulders and arms. He had biceps that could hurl a girl’s heart rate right off the chart.

‘If you don’t stop looking at me like that I’m going to pull you in here to cool off.’

He practically growled the words at her and their former teasing banter vanished, replaced by a hot and heavy awareness. Heat surged through her...and not just in her cheeks. For one heart-stopping moment she was tempted to keep ogling and see what happened.

Another crazy thought. If he pulled her in there with him neither one of them would cool off. She tried to school her face. ‘Sorry.’

‘I’m going to get out now.’

Her mouth watered. ‘Uh-huh.’

‘Would you like to turn around?’

Her lips twitched at the gentleness of the question. ‘Why, Kent Black, are you embarrassed?’

‘No.’ He held her gaze. ‘But I thought you might be.’

He started to rise and with a squawk she leapt off her rock and spun around, heart pounding. His chuckle made it that much harder to keep from turning around. She could imagine what she’d see. All too vividly. She forced herself to take several paces upstream. Away from temptation. Or, at least, another couple of big rocks from it.

If only she was the kind of woman who could indulge in a holiday romance, in transitory affairs.

Her heart slapped against her ribcage. Her mind suddenly whirled. Well, why couldn’t she? She was on holiday, wasn’t she? She wanted to change her life, didn’t she? Maybe that meant taking a few risks.

And if it meant seeing Kent naked...

She didn’t think twice, she swung back to face him. Ooh...jockey shorts—navy blue—plastered to—

Oh, God! She couldn’t drag her eyes away from the evidence of his arousal.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Kent shouted at her, his eyes starting from his head.

She tried to stop her heart from thudding right out of her chest. Oh, dear lord. The man was beautiful. The air in front of her eyes shimmered with heat. He wanted her. That much was obvious. And exhilarating. It gave her the courage to hitch up her chin and meet his gaze. ‘I’ve changed my mind.’

‘About?’

‘Seeing you naked.’

‘You what?’

‘So couldn’t we take it from the top?’ She took a step towards him. ‘I’d love to try skinny-dipping.’

He stabbed a finger at her. He glared. ‘You stay right where you are.’

His eyes darkened when she ignored him, when she moved in so close she could watch the pulse pounding at the base of his throat. She wanted to touch her tongue to it.

‘You don’t know what you’re doing.’ His voice rasped out of his throat. His chest rose and fell.

‘I know exactly what I’m doing.’ She reached out and placed her hand over his heart. He stiffened, but he didn’t step back. His skin was cool and firm. The blood pounded beneath her palm, making her tremble.

‘Think, Josie, think!’ The words rapped out of him like stone on tin. ‘You’re not a holiday-fling kind of person. You couldn’t stop it from meaning too much. I’ve met women like you before.’

Still...he didn’t step away.

‘You’d smother me, I’d fight for space,’ his voice grew ragged, ‘we’d argue, you’d cry.’ He pulled in a breath. ‘It’d get complicated and I don’t do complicated.’

‘Complicated? How?’

‘You said you couldn’t live out here and I can’t live anywhere else.’

Can’t or won’t? But she let it pass. Beneath her hand his heart pounded hard and fast.

‘Too complicated,’ he repeated, but she noted the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes flared with desire.

‘On the contrary, it’s remarkably simple.’ She reached out and took his right hand, placed it between her breasts so he could feel her heart racing too. ‘I want to touch you, and I want you to touch me.’ The warmth of his hand pressed into her. She arched against it. Her lips parted. ‘What’s complicated about that?’

The words had barely left her when, with a wild oath, Kent swung an arm around her waist and his mouth crashed down on hers. His urgency, the hardness of his arousal against her stomach, fired her with an answering urgency, with a hunger she hadn’t known she possessed, hadn’t even known existed.

His tongue swept across her inner lips, enticed her to tangle her tongue with his, and turned everything topsy-turvy. The shoulders, the rock-hard body she clung to, though, stayed upright and held her fast, one hand at her hip, the other tangled in her hair, urging her closer.

He broke off to press hot kisses to her throat before claiming her mouth again. Their desire swept her along like a swollen current of the river, like gale-force winds that bent the tops of trees. She felt wild, free...cherished. She—

‘No!’

Kent jerked back and glared. Through the haze of her desire she saw the torment in his eyes. His fingers bit into her shoulders and he shook her, but she had a feeling it was himself he wanted to shake. She made a move to reach out to him, to try and wipe away the pain that raked his face, but he dropped his hands and stepped back out of her reach.

‘This is not going to happen,’ he ground out.

Her arms felt bereft, cold. She gulped. Need lapped at her. ‘Don’t you want me?’ she whispered. What had she done wrong?

A laugh scraped out of Kent’s throat. He shoved his hands into opposite armpits and gripped for dear life. ‘Don’t play the ingénue. You can’t be blind to the effect you have on men.’

The effect she had on...

What? Her? A smile suddenly zipped through her. Kent backed up as if he’d seen and recognised the glint in her eyes. He seized his jeans and shoved his legs into them bending over as he pulled on his boots.

‘Nice butt,’ she offered.

He glared, pushed his arms into his chambray shirt.

‘Ditto for the shoulders.’

He growled but she couldn’t make out what he said. It sounded like ‘crazy thinking’ and something about a mouse, which didn’t make any sense at all.

He seized his hat, slapped it against his thigh and strode off without saying another word. Josie watched him until he disappeared into the trees then she dropped to her knees and buried her face in Molly’s fur. ‘He wants me,’ she whispered. She couldn’t temper the jubilation that rushed through her, didn’t try to.

He wanted her. He just needed some time to get used to the idea. That was all.

CHAPTER SEVEN

J
OSIE
DIDN
’
T
CLAP
eyes
on Kent again till Friday. Three whole days since that kiss by the river. And it wasn’t for lack of trying. She’d kept her eyes peeled for sight of him, whilst her imagination played any number of fantasies through her mind. Lovely, provocative fantasies.

Three days. She’d tried to keep a lid on her impatience, reminded herself he needed time.

Then on Friday, when she pulled up in her car after visiting Clancy, she glanced up to find Kent striding towards her cabin. He wore an expression of such single-minded determination that her heart started to hammer. Oh, man, had he finally come to his senses? She leapt out of her car, her knees barely holding her up.

Then she saw the bucket and broom in his hands and her heart plummeted. He wasn’t looking for her. He wasn’t heading for her cabin, but the one next door. He had no intention of sweeping her up in his arms and kissing her senseless.

Across a distance of twenty feet or so, they stopped and stared at each other like adversaries in an old-fashioned gun draw, each waiting for the other to make a move.

She swallowed back her disappointment...and impatience...brought their kiss to the forefront of her mind and grinned. Kent could act as aloof and distant as he wanted. She knew better. And she had no intention of making things easy for him. She sent him a cheery wave. ‘Hey, Kent. Want a coffee?’

He tipped his hat in answer and bolted.

Her mouth dropped open and, unbidden, tears blurred her vision as a shaft of pain skewered her to the spot. In that moment she saw with startling clarity what she’d refused to see before. Kent had been right. If she couldn’t stop a kiss from meaning too much, how would she cope with making love with him? She sagged against the bonnet of her car. How could she walk away at the end of her holiday if they made love?

She wouldn’t, that was what. And Kent knew it. She’d cling; he’d rebel. She’d cry; he’d hate himself. A shudder racked through her. Dear lord, what had she been thinking?

Quite obviously she hadn’t been thinking at all. But no matter how many times she listed all the reasons why it was a bad idea to make love with Kent, her wayward body went right on trying to imagine it anyway.

The last three days had created a gentle rhythm to Josie’s days. She’d wake early, have her first cup of coffee on the veranda with Molly and the birds, then she’d bake up a batch of muffins and a cake, or some biscuits and a tart, and drive into Martin’s Gully to the general store.

She’d met Liz on Monday, recovered from the worst of her flu, and had immediately warmed to the other woman. She understood why Kent held her in such high esteem. Liz Perkins had a kind heart and not a bad word for anybody. So, naturally, Josie, Liz and Bridget breakfasted together over muffins and a pot of tea.

Then it was home again to wash her pots and pans, tidy her cabin, and to read the day’s paper. As soon as any disquieting thought popped into her head she’d quickly push it aside. She’d decided the question of what to do with the rest of her life could wait until the middle of next week. She’d have a go at sorting it all out then, but she’d resolved on at least two weeks of complete relaxation first.

Then it was back into Martin’s Gully for lunch with Clancy, a habit she was hardly aware of forming, but one she enjoyed all the same. Once home again, she and Molly would go for their walk.

Most of the time, throughout the day, Josie could push thoughts of Kent from her mind. Mostly. Sure, it required the occasional concerted effort, but she managed it. The nights, though, were a different matter.

As soon as evening fell another woman seemed to inhabit her body. A reckless, wanton woman who wanted nothing more than to stride up to Kent’s back door in something skimpy and seductive and demand entry. No number of craft projects, no amount of postcard writing could drive the ensuing images out of her mind.

When sleep finally claimed her, she tossed and turned and groaned until Molly’s whine or bark woke her. Then she’d surge upright, erotic images branded on her brain, her skin fevered with need.

Molly took to sleeping on the floor rather than the foot of Josie’s bed. Josie didn’t blame her. She’d sleep on the floor too if she thought it’d help.

Saturday morning Josie woke with a cough and a pain behind her eyes. She ignored it and carried on as normal.

Sunday morning she dragged herself out of bed, pulled muffin ingredients off the shelves then remembered it was Sunday and she didn’t need to bake today. She let Molly out, crawled back into bed and pulled the covers over her head. Today she’d hibernate.

* * *

Kent woke at two o’clock in the morning to whining and scratching outside his bedroom window. Then Molly set up a howl. ‘For Pete’s sake!’ He threw back the covers, muttering imprecations under his breath as he lurched to the front door and flung it open. Who’d ever heard of a dog afraid of the dark? ‘C’mon, then,’ he grumbled.

Molly didn’t try to bowl him over with ecstatic wriggling and licks the way she normally did. She barked at him then turned her head in the direction of the cabins.

In the direction of Josie’s cabin.

It might be two o’clock in the morning and he might be fuzzy-headed, but Kent didn’t need a second signal. He jumped through the door, realised he was stark naked, raced back inside to pull on jeans and a shirt, dragged on his trainers and slammed out of the house to race after Molly.

Fear surged through him. His heart grew so large it pressed against his lungs, making him battle for every breath. Let her be OK. Let her be OK. The words pounded through him with each step.

Her cabin was all lit up and he didn’t hesitate to catch his breath. He didn’t hesitate for anything. He pounded on her door then tried it. Locked. He peered through the window but the curtains obscured his view. He pounded on the door again. ‘Josie!’ He rattled the handle. If she didn’t answer he’d break the damn thing down. ‘Josie!’

His shout should’ve woken the dead. From inside he heard a groan then a soft shuffling... The door opened. He took one look at her face and pity, tenderness and concern punched him. She looked terrible. She looked worse than terrible.

She blinked and clutched the doorframe, rested her head against it. ‘What can I do for you?’

He could hardly make out the words as they rasped from her throat. Didn’t she realise this wasn’t a social call? That it was two o’clock in the morning? Another rush of tenderness took him off guard. ‘Sweetheart, I think you’ll find you’re not well.’

She swayed and he leapt forward, slid an arm around her waist and moved her back to sit on the end of the sofa bed. She felt small and frail beneath his hands, her skin clammy and hot. She was burning up.

‘Might be why I don’t feel too good,’ she slurred.

She went to lie back down but he stopped her, so she leaned into him instead. Even sick she still smelt good enough to eat. ‘I promise to let you go back to sleep, as soon as you’ve answered a couple of questions.’ She gave no indication she’d heard him, so he placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face towards him. ‘Josie?’

‘I’m wearing my silly, skimpy pyjamas.’ Her mouth turned down. ‘I should get my robe.’

He had a feeling she felt too tired and sick to care about the robe, but he wished she hadn’t drawn attention to her nightwear. He’d done his best not to notice. Her pyjamas consisted of pale pink short shorts and a singlet top covered in fluffy white sheep jumping fences.

Corny. Cute. And in other circumstances downright sexy. He fought the bolt of need that shot through him. ‘I promise to tease you about them when you’re well again.’ Her lips twitched into what he guessed was meant to be a smile. ‘Now, tell me where it hurts most.’

‘Chest,’ she wheezed. ‘It’s hard to breathe.’

‘Are you an asthmatic?’

She shook her head and leaned further into him until her head rested fully against his shoulder. Her face lifted towards his, her eyes closed.

‘Josie.’ He cupped her face and felt her glands. Swollen. ‘I want you to open your mouth and stick out your tongue.’

She opened one eye then lifted one hand and waggled a finger at him. ‘Trust me, right? I’m a doctor.’

He smiled. He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t believe she’d try and crack a joke when she obviously felt so bad. He fought the urge to kiss her forehead. ‘That’s the one.’

If only she knew.

None the less, she did as he asked. He angled her face to the light. He could smell the infection on her breath but a quick look at her throat confirmed it.

She had a throat and chest infection. And a fever. She needed antibiotics. She needed to keep hydrated. And she needed sleep. He helped her back under the covers. ‘When did you last eat?’

But she’d drifted down under cover of sleep and he knew he wouldn’t get any more from her tonight. He poured a glass of water, noticed the remains of a barely touched bowl of soup and drew his own conclusions. He made her drink several mouthfuls of the water.

‘Stay,’ he ordered Molly, who lay on a rug at the base of the sofa bed. Rug? He shook the thought away then strode back up to the house, seized a jar of broad-spectrum antibiotics from his bag, the night lamp from beside his bed then headed straight back down to the cabin.

He made her take two tablets and another couple of sips of water before cooling her forehead with a cold cloth. Then he set the lamp up on the table, flicked off the overhead light and settled down to keep vigil.

* * *

Josie had that dream again. That lovely dream where Kent leaned over her, his face softened in concern, his hands gentle on her face and beautifully cool. This time the room was bathed in a gentle light rather than the harsh light above her head. She tried to smile at him, tried to say she thought him wonderful...and sexy, but her body felt mired in thick mud and she couldn’t manage it.

Then a jag of coughing shook through her entire frame and each breath felt like broken glass and it took all her concentration to breathe through it. For a moment she swore a pair of strong arms lifted her and supported her, but then everything went black as a deeper sleep claimed her.

The next time Kent entered her dreams she wanted him to get right back out of them again. Why couldn’t she dream what she wanted to dream? Why couldn’t they be floating down a wide, slow river on a beautiful, cushion-strewn pontoon, or lying in a field of wild flowers with the sky blue above them, listening to the lazy hum of the bees?

Sure, he was still as sexy as ever with a smile made for sin, and he smelt better than any man had a right to, but he was also annoying. She didn’t want to take tablets and drink water. Why wouldn’t he stop making her? She couldn’t avoid him, though. He wouldn’t let her. His big hands and superior strength mocked her efforts to elude him.

The dream was all the more annoying because in it she was as weak as a kitten and her brain was too fuzzy to bring into play her self-defence tactics. By the time she remembered the right move, she found herself lying back down on the pillow with a gentle hand soothing her forehead and she couldn’t remember what she’d wanted to fight against.

Dreams were like that.

* * *

Josie opened one eye, noticed the soft light pouring in at the windows and realised she’d slept later than she’d meant to or, at least, later than she normally did. She pulled a tentative breath into her lungs. Her chest still hurt, but the sharp, broken-glass pains had dulled to an ache. A definite improvement.

She pulled herself slowly upright, pushed her hair off her face then froze. Kent sat half-slumped in one of the hard chairs at the kitchen table, fast asleep. What was he doing here? Then she remembered fragments from her dreams and wondered if they’d been dreams at all. She frowned. She had the faintest recollection of opening her door to him at some stage last night.

Molly lumbered to her feet from her rug on the floor, stretched and yawned. When she saw Josie she gave a joyful bark. Kent was on his feet in seconds. Josie had never seen anyone move so fast in her life. Certainly not like that, from sleep to wakefulness in an instant.

He was at her side in seconds, his hand at her forehead, his eyes intent on her face. ‘How do you feel?’

‘Crappy,’ she groaned.

He broke out into a huge grin.

‘I’m glad you find it amusing,’ she grumbled, throwing back the covers and reaching for her robe.

The smile slid right off his face. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Gotta make the muffins,’ she wheezed. Liz would be expecting them.

‘No, you’re not.’

He seized her feet and lifted them straight back into bed, and Josie found herself too weak to fight him. In fact, she found it took most of her energy just to breathe. He tucked the covers around her and sat on the edge of the bed. Luckily, she didn’t have the energy to pull him down to kiss her either. She gripped her hands tightly in her lap all the same, just in case she found a sudden second wind.

‘You’re not getting out of bed at all today.’

‘But—’

‘Doctor’s orders.’

She snapped her mouth shut. Then she frowned. ‘The doctor’s been to see me?’

He hesitated then nodded. ‘Yep.’

She didn’t remember that at all. ‘Could you...?’ She twisted her hands together. She hated putting him out like this. ‘Could you ring Liz and explain that—?’

‘Already taken care of.’

It was? She glanced at the light filtering through the curtains. ‘But it can’t even be eight o’clock yet.’

‘Twenty to,’ he confirmed with a glance at his watch.

‘Heavens! What time did you call her?’ A spurt of indignation shuffled through her. What right did he have to take matters into his own hands?

Then she remembered he was only following the doctor’s orders. ‘I... Thank you.’

A frown drew his brows low over the brilliant blue of his eyes, tightening then deepening the groove that ran from his nose to the side of his mouth. Her chest, already clenched, clenched up more until she realised he hadn’t directed the frown at her, but at the wall behind her. ‘What day of the week do you think it is?’