Valentine's Cowboy (8 page)

A smile crept onto his face as he thought about the spunky romance therapist. He wondered if she still thought he needed some advice on making love. He was pretty sure she’d been sore the next day. He’d not been easy on her…or she with him. He hadn’t been able to sleep after she’d gone back to her own condo. The scents from their lovemaking had been all over his bed.

Interrupting his thoughts, he heard Valentine pushing open the sliding doors to her balcony. He stilled, holding his breath. Was she dressed for the day now? Or still wearing that “Hot, Hot, Hotter” sleep shirt? Damn he liked that shirt, even if it wasn’t Victoria’s Secret see-through sexy.

His body hardened. He could easily go another round or two with her in bed. Hell, even on the floor. Maybe bent over the table, or one of the bar stools. He didn’t much care where he slid his cock into her warm and willing body. He just ached to be inside her. Ached and wanted her more than he could ever remember wanting another woman. The thought made him uneasy.

“You’re here on Maui?” Sam heard her say, realizing she was talking on the cell phone while on her balcony.

He should slink back inside his condo and not listen in, but he didn’t move. Curious. Yet he told himself it was so he wouldn’t disturb her by letting her know about his presence nearby.

“No! I do not want to go to dinner with you tonight. I’ve got plans already. Tomorrow? Well, I don’t know. No! What am I saying? I do not want to see you.”

Tomorrow
? He couldn’t think of any plans his sister had for the wedding party or guests. But he didn’t like the idea of Valentine being talked into meeting whoever this man was, and he definitely sensed it was a man on the phone. He’d read something in a Maui magazine about the Piiholo Ranch, where you could go horseback riding and picnic. Yeah, that sounded good. Something like that could drag on for most of the day. He’d make reservations for them both. He didn’t think he’d have much trouble talking her into going along. Maybe they had their disagreements now and then, but for the most part they got along. Even with the occasional spanking.

“Jonathan, you need to stop contacting me,” she said, sounding distressed. “Why did you call my office and find out where I’d gone? Leave. Me. Alone.”

Was the man stalking her? Sam bristled. Was he dangerous? Maybe he should say something now.

Valentine heaved a put-upon sigh, no sounds of fear in her voice, just annoyance. “We’re divorced, Jonathan. You cheated on me, left me, and have given me so many self-doubts that I don’t want to ever see you again.”

She hesitated, obviously listening. “Yes, the psychologically trained part of me understands your desperate need to finally come out of the closet. But, jeez! I’m still having a hard time believing I married a man who preferred men. How could I have been so blind not to even suspect something like that? All I’ve been able to come up with is maybe I don’t really know my own sexual leanings.”

Sam’s mouth fell open and he stumbled back to sit down in one of the patio chairs. She’d been married to a gay man!
Well, damn
. And she hadn’t suspected as much? No wonder she’d been momentarily confused about her sense of gender preference. Although there wasn’t a doubt in his mind about the gender she preferred! None at all. She’d been all over him in his bedroom. Doing some very naughty things that he’d certainly enjoyed. The jerk was just messing with her mind.

“Apologies don’t help. Please. Don’t call me again.” Her voice shook, and as she loudly flipped the cell phone shut, he heard what sounded like a sniffle.

He was trying to decide how to handle the situation. He’d overheard something very private. Still, he hated the thought of her crying. Before he could do anything, though, her cell phone rang again and he tensed.

She didn’t answer, but evidently saw who was calling via caller ID, because suddenly her phone went flying over the balcony railing. Normally he wouldn’t have liked that kind of tantrum fit. This time, he was of a mind to gone down there and stomp the hell out of the phone. As if it were to blame for upsetting her.

“Did you hear all of that?” she asked quietly. “You know, it’s not nice to eavesdrop.”

He stood and went to the railing, leaning forward so he could look around the corner at her. His heart raced at the strangely sexy sight of the “Hotter” sleep shirt. He struggled to calm his growing arousal. “I was out here first. I hadn’t planned to eavesdrop, just couldn’t figure out how to slip back inside without alarming you.” Okay, that was kind of a lie.

“Whatever. Now you know my deep, dark secret. I’m a woman who failed in her marriage. I couldn’t even keep my husband’s sexual attention,” she said miserably.

“That’s crazy thinking! The guy was gay, darlin’. If he had that kind of leaning, it wasn’t your fault.” He gave her a tentative grin. “Besides, you definitely keep my sexual attention.”

She gave him an oh-shut-up-I-want-to-be-sulky look. “Go shave or something. Anything. Just go away.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You needing something to pull you out of that pout?”

He almost laughed when her hands flew around to her bottom, easily understanding what he’d hinted at but not been serious about.

“I’m not pouting, I’m miserably pondering the failure in my life. I can be miserable if I want to be.” She spun around to go back into her own condo. “What you had in mind is not the answer to everything.”

He watched the sassy little wiggle of her hips and felt his cock hardening again. Maybe spanking wasn’t an answer to everything, but he sure didn’t mind having her draped over his lap. No, he didn’t at all mind warming that sweet butt. He gave a quiet groan and headed inside for a shower. ‘Course taking a shower with her would be so much better than taking one alone.

* * *

Valentine turned over on the chaise lounge she’d pulled away from the other chairs on the grassy area just above the beach wall. The sun was beating down hard by now at late morning. She should probably go inside pretty soon. But she’d spent most of the morning in her rooms, piddling around on her laptop researching B&B’s on Maui, and returning emails to her partners who were still upset with her for this little vacation. Mainly she’d stayed inside to do anything that kept her well away from Sam Thompson. It had embarrassed her knowing he knew about Jonathan, knew about why her husband had left her.

She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, trying to keep the tears threatening to fall from slipping out. Her hormones were in full frenzy today. She couldn’t come out of the funk she’d drifted into after talking to Jonathan. Even worse, she’d practically barked at poor Shelby when the younger woman had called to invite her on a helicopter ride. She’d apologized and Shelby had forgiven her easily enough, but her phone call with her ex had upset her so much. How could she have been such a poor judge of men when she’d fallen in love with him? Would she always be such a poor judge? Should she even bother with men at all? She was so confused.

A tear trickled down her cheek and she grumbled a curse in disgust at the weakness. Then, as she dashed it away, she sensed someone walking closer. “Please walk on by. Please walk on by,” she silently pleaded. But with the way her nerves tingled and the way anticipation fluttered through her stomach, she knew who had approached her chair.

When a hard hand gave a brisk swat to her upturned, bikini clad bottom, there was no longer even a doubt. Sam.

“What was that for?” she hissed, rolling sideways and glancing worriedly around to see if anyone had noticed his action. Relief soothed her somewhat when she found they were still very much alone.

“For cursing.” He crouched down next to her and reached to push a strand of hair behind her ear. “Are you still pouting?”

She saw the disapproval in his eyes. “I’m sunbathing,” she said curtly. Even though she was pretty sure his thoughts were about spanking her for childish behavior, the mere touch of his fingertips had made her shiver. It made her want more of his touch. She’d missed him the last couple of days.

“Darlin’, your back is turning even redder than your butt when I—”

She narrowed her eyes and flung out a hand to cover his mouth. “Don’t even say it! Not out here.”

He used his tongue to tickle her palm and she shivered all over again, jerking her hand back. “So long as you understand.”

“Why didn’t you go on that helicopter ride to Molokai? Shelby said she’d invited you?” She changed the subject, desperate to think about anything besides the delicious sensations this man could arouse in her. She was trying to stay mad at men, all men. She was pouting, just like he’d said, but a good pout now and then was okay. In her opinion.

He sat on the side of her lounge chair and she scowled at him, causing him to grin in amusement. “Flying in something that small doesn’t have a lot of appeal to me. Besides, I’ve been going what seems nonstop ever since I got here. I’m worn out.”

He grinned even more, his pupils dilating in arousal. “A certain sulky romance therapist did her own part in wearing me out. So I’m taking it easy until tonight and the luau.”

“At least I’ve had time to catch up on my sleep lately. It was peaceful with you gone, not arguing with me, not pestering me,” she teased. She studied his face, and noticed the tired lines around his eyes, the slight bagginess beneath them. “You didn’t sleep well last night, did you?”

He stood abruptly and nearly tipped the chair sideways. “I got a call from my foreman in the middle of the night. We talked quite a spell. I couldn’t sleep after that.”

She crawled off the chair and moved next to him and gently touched his arm. “Is something wrong at the ranch? You’re not going to have to leave early are you? Shelby would be devastated.” So would she, but she didn’t want to think about that immediate thought.

“No, I’ll be leaving the day after the wedding as planned.” He faced her, tension making his body stiff.

For the first time she noticed he wasn’t wearing his usual jeans, shirt and boots. He actually had on swim trunks and was barefoot. And, oh my, he looked absolutely luscious. How could she have been so sunk in depression not to have noticed that sooner?

She smiled. “It’s nice seeing you out of your cowboy uniform.”

His eyes twinkled. “Cowboy uniform?”

He pulled her into his embrace—like she’d been hoping he would—and kissed her. He picked her up and held her, toes dangling, to kiss her with such passion, with such demand for her response. And she responded, kissing him back with equal passion.

When he finally set her down, he said huskily, “How about we go up to your place? You need to get out of the sun and shower off all that grease you’re wearing. I could, of course, help you with that chore. Gentleman that I am.”

* * *

By the time Valentine had the strength to open her eyes again and glance at the bedside clock, she discovered it was nearly two in the afternoon. Her cowboy had left the bed already. Showering. Again. She smiled at the pleasant memory of their earlier shower. At the way he’d bent her over so she was braced against the wall. The warm water had beat down on them and he’d driven that awesome shaft of his deep inside her from behind. He could be a gentle lover, let her be in control when she wanted to be. But he was definitely in his finest element when he took charge, when he was wildly dominant.

She hugged the pillow that still held his scent, quivering. She really liked it when he took charge. He made her feel so cared for, so necessary to him. Her submitting to his dominance brought out a definite sizzle in their relationship. Maybe she could get past all these weird doubts she’d been fighting since her divorce. Okay, she knew with a certainty that she wasn’t lesbian. Not that she had anything against them, or against gay men. She just hadn’t liked straddling the fence about the matter. But since she couldn’t stop thinking about how wonderful it felt to have Sam’s powerful cock ramming into her… Well, that took care of the ‘was she or was she not’ matter.

Her heart raced and her lower lips pulsed with an aching need. It amazed her how she could barely keep her hands off him. No other man had enticed her so easily, not that there had been that many other men in her life. She pictured him standing under the shower. Water dripping down that long, lean yet muscled body. Trailing down to the short, curly hair that nestled…

She trembled and scrambled off the bed. It was time to make reality of the fantasy that had begun playing out in her mind. “Oh Sam,” she called out in a sexy sing-song voice; loud enough that he would hear her over the running water. “Make room in the shower for two of us.”

She’d only taken two steps towards the bathroom when the phone rang in the other room. She grumbled a curse word that would have had her, as a youth, being sent to her room by her mother. When it rang loudly again, she repeated the word, louder. She didn’t want to answer the phone. Instinct told her the caller would put her in a bad mood again. Instinct warned her it had to be either her partners or Jonathan. There was the chance that it could be Shelby, but she didn’t think so. Shelby was supposed to be off on that helicopter trip with someone. She wanted to ignore the phone and simply join Sam for some intimate play in the shower.

“Are you going to answer that?” Sam called, having obviously stuck his head out of the shower to catch her attention.

He no doubt expected her to act responsibly and speak to whoever was calling. “Fine,” she huffed, reverting to a sulky mood. Her body sizzled with anticipation of upcoming pleasure, but she had to answer the stupid phone. Annoyed at being sidetracked from what she wanted to do, she lifted the receiver and said briskly, “Dr. Hart.”

The instant she recognized Abby Tarrington’s voice, she grew even more irritated. “I do not want to talk to you, Abby.”

Abby warned her not to hang up, and stupidly she didn’t. Instead, she stood there fuming while Abby raged at her for this reason and then that reason. She tried to get in a word, but it was impossible when Abby was on a roll. Her partners might be terrific therapists but they couldn’t manage the daily office at all. The secretary had threatened to quit. They’d misplaced some checks from clients and accused their part-time bookkeeper of incompetence. She’d found the checks and walked out on them. Somehow it was all her fault, at least in Abby’s viewpoint.