One Tiny Miracle. Jennifer Greene

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Chapter Seven

      Much later, as Maura lay curled against Quint, her cheek pillowed by his chest, she listened to the even rhythm of his breathing, the slow beat of his heart, and knew they were sounds that would be with her for the rest of her life.

      He’d taken her on a passionate trip the likes of which she’d never experienced. Even now, when she thought of how her whole body had exploded with pleasure, she was shocked and fascinated, dazed that he could have turned her into such a wild, uninhibited woman.

      Oh, my, what had had happened? Making love to Quint had only shown her how much she’d done wrong. She’d not known that her ex-husband had been a selfish lover. Because Gil had been her first and only lover, she’d not had anyone to compare him to. But now, after Quint had touched her, lifted her to the sky and back, she realized she’d been missing so much, had wasted so many years on a one-sided relationship.

      “I think the rain is letting up,” Quint murmured against the top of her head. “But who cares? I could stay here all night. Just like this.”

      Moments ago, he’d pulled the Navajo blanket over them and now that the cooler air from the storm was filling the old storeroom, the warmth from the woven wool was welcome.

      “Mmm. I’m thinking I could stay here forever,” she said drowsily. “But something or someone would eventually show up to interrupt us.”

      She could feel his sigh ruffle her hair and then his hand was alongside her cheek, tilting her face up to his. When she looked into his blue eyes, her heart squeezed with bittersweet longing. Would he ever want to be with her again like this? Was she crazy to want to snatch what pleasure she could, whenever she could?

      “Maura, before we leave here … I wanted you to know that this thing that’s happened between us—I hadn’t planned. Just in case you thought I’d calculated all this—”

      He broke off as the upper part of her began to shake with soft chuckles.

      “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Am I funny or something?”

      “Oh, Quint,” she murmured, then scooting her whole body upward, she planted a kiss on his cheek. “For as long as I live, I would have never thought any such thing. You planning this with me? It’s funny.”

      His expression sober, he arched one brow at her. “Really? What’s so funny about it?”

      Seeing he wasn’t amused, she pressed her cheek against his. “I’m sorry if that didn’t sound quite right. It’s just that you—you can have any woman you want, Quint. The idea that you’d purposely pursue me is … well, ridiculous.”

      With his hands in her hair, he eased her face back from his. “Maura, I think I need to set your thinking straight about a few things. I’m not a playboy. I don’t go after women.”

      “Of course not. You don’t have to.”

      He groaned with frustration. “Okay, let me put it this way,” he said. “Since the breakup with Holly, I’ve tried to date, to get interested in other women. And yes, I’ve had a few females deliberately try to catch my attention. But none of them sparked anything in me. Until now. Until you.”

      Could she believe him? Yes, she decided. Because he was talking about sexual desire, about that special spark of chemistry between a man and a woman. He wasn’t talking about love. That was a whole other thing. A thing that he would never likely bring up. Nor would she.

      Swallowing at the thickening in her throat, she said, “Then I’m very flattered, Quint, that you were attracted to me.”

      One corner of his rugged mouth turned upward. “And I’m very flattered that you wanted to get this close to me.”

      Her hand settled on the curve of his shoulder, then slipped down the hard, corded slope of his arm. Oh, yes, she thought, she wanted to be close to this man in a thousand, million ways.

      “When you take a woman on a ride, you really take her on a ride,” she teased softly.

      He looked at her with faint disdain and then suddenly he was laughing, twisting her beneath him, and lowering his face down to hers. “You’re good for me, Maura. You make me laugh. And that’s not easy. Just ask Jake what I’m really like.”

      Her fingertip traced heart-shaped patterns upon his face. “I’d rather ask you.”

      He looked at her, his eyes gliding hungrily over her flushed cheeks and swollen lips, the tangled hair hiding one green eye.

      “I’m not an easy man to like, Maura. I’m quiet and moody. And small talk mostly bores me. I’d rather be with my horses. I don’t particularly like money and I hate crowds.”

      Her lips curved into a sexy little purse. “Mmm. You sound like a terrible sort of man. Anything else I should know?”

      “Yeah. I don’t know anything about being romantic and even if I did, I wouldn’t bother.”

      “Why?”

      “Because romance is looking at the world through rose-colored glasses. And when a woman looks at me, I want her to clearly see the flaws she’d be getting.”

      In order to keep her away? Maura decided the answer to that question didn’t matter. She was looking at him and the future with clear eyes. Quint was a straightforward guy. She’d gone into his arms knowing not to pin any sort of hopes and dreams on the two of them being together permanently.

      “Don’t worry,” she replied. “I won’t be expecting flowers.”

      He stared at her for long moments and then his mouth crushed down on hers in a kiss that wiped everything from her mind and stirred the want in her all over again.

      “Maybe we’d better stay here a little longer,” he whispered huskily. “Until the rain stops.”

      Almost a week later, Quint found himself driving up the narrow dirt road that led to his grandfather’s ranch house. For the past few days, he’d fought the urge to return to Apache Wells. He didn’t have the time or energy to make the forty-mile drive often. Hell, he didn’t need to remind himself that he had a ranch of his own to run. With cattle to buy, fences to build, feeders to erect and horses to move from the Chaparral to the Golden Spur, he hardly had time to draw a good breath. But here he was anyway, he thought wryly. Because, in spite of his work and exhaustion, he desperately wanted to see Maura again.

      Maura. With her wine-red hair and sea-green eyes. She’d bewitched him. That’s what she’d done. He could scarcely close his eyes without thinking of her naked, her hips arching up to his, scattering his senses like bits of grass in the wind. He’d expected to enjoy making love to her. After all, she was pretty and sexy; a combination hard for any man to resist. But he’d also expected the incident to be a brief encounter to enjoy for the moment, then sweep entirely from his mind.

       Face it, Quint. The woman turned you inside out. She shot you straight to heaven, then let you fall back to earth with the slow rocking motion of a drifting СКАЧАТЬ