“What theory?”
“That you will be a better kisser than Knox.”
Oh, no. He shook his head. “I think we should leave the answer to the theoretical realm.”
“I don’t.” She curved her fingers around the back of his neck and drew his mouth down to hers. He should have stopped it right there, should have exercised the sanity he should have had, but he wasn’t going to reject her—not in her ultra-vulnerable state. And, if the truth be known, he wanted to kiss her. Badly. Had since that night in the barn.
Lush and full, not quite practiced, the brush of her lips against his sent a sizzle over every inch of his skin. This was such a bad idea.
He relaxed beneath her touch, allowed her to play. He’d give it a minute, make it good and get out of Dodge.
“You have an amazing mouth,” Cecily breathed against his lips. “But you aren’t kissing me back.”
“Self-preservation,” he murmured before he splayed his fingers around her delicate jaw, angled her mouth the way he wanted it and took control.
Her sweet, heady taste exploded across his senses. As good as he’d imagined it to be—maybe better. Fingers stroking over the silky skin of her cheek, he explored the voluptuous line of her mouth with his own, acquainting himself with every plump, perfect centimeter.
When skin against skin didn’t seem to be enough, he brought his teeth and tongue into play, nipping, stroking, lathing. A gasp escaped her lips. He took advantage of the opportunity and closed his mouth over hers, taking the kiss deeper, mating his tongue with hers. Twining her fingers into the hair at his nape, she followed his lead, sliding her tongue against his, turning the kiss into an intimate, seductive exploration that fried his brain.
Santo Deus, but she was responsive, the taste of them together perfection. He fought the desire to explore the rest of her curvy, hot body with his mouth and tongue. To discover how sweet she really was.
In his world, kisses like this led to hot, explosive sex. In this world, however, it absolutely, positively could not happen.
His rational brain kicked in. He broke the kiss, sank his fingers into her waist and lifted her off him and placed her back on the blanket.
Cheeks flushed, eyes on his, Cecily pushed a hand through her hair. “That was—”
“Proof you aren’t a cold fish,” he said, pushing to his feet. “Now we forget it happened.”
She eyed him. “Colt—”
He shook his head. “You know my MO. Here today, gone tomorrow. You don’t want to get involved with me, Cecily. Trust me.”
FORGET IT HAPPENED? Cecily couldn’t do anything but think about that kiss with Colt in the days leading up to the Hargroves’ annual summer party. It infiltrated her thoughts, her dreams, her practice sessions, rendering her concentration less than ideal.
To know that kind of passion existed, the explosive kind she’d felt with Colt, had turned her world upside down. Not even with Davis, as crazy as she’d been about him, had she experienced that kind of chemistry. And yet rationality told her Colt was right—the best thing for them to do was ignore it. She had to focus on making this team and Colt would move on again soon.
She put her focus, instead, on her new approach to fixing her and Bacchus’s relationship. On fixing her. She was twenty-five years old. It was time for her to take charge of her life and career. If she didn’t start directing things, figuring out who she was and what she wanted, everyone else was going to do it for her. And that was unacceptable.
With Dale’s coaching getting her and Bacchus nowhere fast, she began working with Colt in the afternoons, exploring some of the techniques he’d used on his case similar to Bacchus’s. Given her horse had, in fact, jumped the creek on the way home from the lake, she thought there might be something there.
They were making baby steps—tiny amounts of progress. Now if only she could make herself immune to the man giving the instructions.
Kay caught her as she walked into the house to get ready for the party, insisting she come greet the Hendersons who would stay the weekend. Toeing off her muddy boots in the entrance way, she walked into the salon. Knox was as flirtatious as ever—she as uninterested as ever. Exercising the briefest of social niceties, she excused herself to go to her room.
Her father intercepted her before she could, pulling her into his study. “Dale tells me you’re still working with Colt Banyon,” he said, shutting the door. “Why?’
She lifted her chin. “Because I want to. Because I think it’s going to help Bacchus.”
Clayton Hargrove leaned back against his desk, tall, cool, southern elegance in gray trousers and a white shirt. “What you’re doing is wasting your time. That stuff is nonsense he’s teaching you.”
“I’m going to decide what’s right and wrong for me from now on.”
“Excuse me?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I am twenty-five years old, Daddy. I’m not a child. I need to start managing my own life and career.”
Her father scowled. “Colt Banyon is a drifter. He wanders from stable to stable. You don’t know anything about him or his credentials.”
“I know I trust him. And he comes with impeccable credentials. Cliff wouldn’t hire anyone with anything less.”
“I could fire him.”
A surge of fury rose up inside her. “You fire him and I’ll withdraw from the Geneva event.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“Try me.”
“Dammit, Cecily,” her father bellowed. “See some sense here.”
“I am seeing some. Finally.” She bit the inside of her mouth, deciding to go for broke now that she was knee deep. “What were you and Mama arguing about the day she died?”
Her father frowned. “What does that have to do with this?”
“Nothing. I just want to know.”
A stony expression consumed his face. “Nothing that concerns you. It was a private matter between your mother and I.”
“After which she broke the cardinal rule and went riding by herself?” Her lips set in a tight line. “She knew better than that, Daddy. Isabella said she looked knocked sideways after you left. What happened between you two?”
He shook his head. “It’s ancient history. Let it go.”
“I’ve tried. It hasn’t worked.” She fixed her gaze on his. “You pretend you don’t miss her, but you do. You pretend it never happened, but it did.” She pushed a stray hair out of her face with a trembling hand. “I’ll never stop wondering what happened that day. What made her do something so stupid. And I’ll never stop missing her. Because, apparently, I’m the only one in this family who has a heart.”
Spinning on her heel, she stalked to the door.
“Cecily.”
She wrenched the door open, walked through it and slammed it shut. Kay and the Hendersons gave her a bemused look as she stalked through the salon and headed for her room. She ignored them all.
* * *
“You ready to go?”
Colt opened the door to his cabin to find Tommy, decked out in a checked shirt and jeans, lounging against the doorframe, a pink Kentucky sunset staining the sky behind him.
Конец