“Very funny.” He turned to look down at her. “But that doesn’t tell me why you’re so nuts about these horses.”
“They’re gentle. And smart. And so good with kids, its nearly eerie.” She blew out a breath and watched as one of the foals jolted into a one-horse race around the corral. Smiling as she watched the spindly legged baby run, she said, “They’ve been bred for centuries to become part of a family. They’re strong and loyal. I admire that.”
“Me, too,” he said and when she looked at him, she noticed he hadn’t been watching the horses, but her.
Nerves fizzed inside her, but in a good way. The night was quiet, but for the sounds of the horses. The wind was still, the sky brilliant with stars and it suddenly felt as though the world itself was holding its breath.
He was silent for so long, her nerves buzzed even harder, so she spoke to break the hush building between them. “I saw my first Gypsy about six years ago, at a horse show.” Her gaze slid from his to the corral again. “They were so beautiful. Elegant somehow, yet their eyes were liquid and kind, as if there were very old souls looking back at me.”
“If you love them so much, how do you bring yourself to sell them?”
She laughed. “It’s not easy. And I’m very careful who they go to. I check out prospective buyers so thoroughly, the CIA would be impressed.”
“I know I am.”
“Really?” Gina turned her head to look up at him again and saw his dark eyes flash with something she couldn’t quite read.
“Really,” he said and leaned his bare forearms on the top railing of the corral fence, alongside hers. Jerking his chin at the horses milling around like wallflowers at a high school reunion, he continued, “I’ve seen my share of horse breeders who couldn’t care less about the animals in their charge. They’re only interested in the money they can make.”
Gina’s mouth tightened. “I’ve seen a few like that myself.”
“Bet you have.” Glancing down at her, he said, “Sorry about earlier today.”
“Sorry?” Gina blinked at him, shook her head as if she hadn’t heard him right and smiled. “Wow. A joke and an apology. This is a red-letter night for me!”
“You’ve got a smart mouth on you, that’s for damn sure.”
“True. My mom always said it would get me in trouble someday.”
“Do you always listen to your mother?”
“If I did, we wouldn’t be married right now,” she pointed out, then wished she hadn’t when he frowned.
“She was right, you know. About me. About warning you off.”
“No, she wasn’t. I love my mom, but sometimes she worries more than she should.” Gina looked up at him and felt that maybe, just maybe, he was reaching out to her for the first time since their hurried wedding. Everything in her yearned for it to be true. She laid one hand on his forearm and tried not to notice that he nearly flinched from her gentle touch. “I know you, Adam…”
“No, you don’t.” He looked down at her hand on his arm and his stare was so steady, she finally pulled her hand away in response. When she had, he said, “You used to know me, Gina. I give you that. But I’m not that kid anymore. Time’s gone by and things have changed. I’ve changed.”
“You’re still Adam,” she insisted.
“Damn it.” He pushed away from the railing, grabbed her shoulders and turned her around to face him. In the starlight, his features were hard and cold and his eyes were deep, dark, filled with shadows. Gina felt the strength in his hands and the heat of his skin, burning through the thick, cashmere robe right into hers.
“Don’t mistake what’s happening here, Gina.”
She wouldn’t be intimidated. And she wasn’t afraid of him at all—even if that’s what he was trying to do. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean.” His grip on her gentled slightly even as his eyes became darker, nearly black with the intensity of his gaze. “You’re fooling yourself, Gina. You think I don’t see it? Feel it?”
“Adam—”
“This bargain we made? That’s all we share,” he assured her. “We each want something from the other and when that bargain’s fulfilled, it’s over. Don’t get comfortable here. Don’t expect more from me than there is. And for God’s sake, stop looking at me with those golden eyes of yours all soft and dewy.”
“I don’t—”
“Yeah, you do. And it’s time to stop, Gina. For your own sake if nothing else. There is no us. There won’t ever be.”
Her heart ached.
Literally ached.
Her stomach churned and tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she fought them back, buried the swell of emotion that threatened to choke her. Everything he said, she knew he really meant, and yet, wasn’t there more here than he would—or could—admit? Or was she just fooling herself as he thought? Was she setting herself up for a crashing fall at the end of their time together? Was she expecting to find the boy she’d once known inside a man too changed to remember him?
“We have now,” she said, lifting both hands to lay her palms on his chest. The hard, sculpted muscles felt warm beneath her hands and the pound of his heart shattered something inside her. When he hissed in a breath, she took it as a sign to continue. “And for now Adam, there is an us.”
“Gina…” He shook his head and blew out a breath riddled with frustration. “You’re making this harder than it has to be.”
“Maybe,” she admitted. “And maybe you’re making this far less fun than it could be.”
She moved in toward him, closing the spare distance between them with a single step. Her hands moved over his chest, fingertips exploring, smoothing across his flat nipples until he took a breath and held it, trying not to surrender.
But she wanted his surrender and was willing to fight for it.
He caught her wrists and held them, staring down into her eyes like a man lost in unfamiliar territory. “You’re playing with fire here, Gina.”
“I’m not fragile, Adam,” she said. “I don’t mind a burn or two.”
“This kind of fire consumes.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” she asked, smiling up at him despite the blackness of his eyes, the tight, grim slash of his mouth. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, the Adam she’d once known and fallen in love with was still there, hidden inside him, and she wanted to set him free again. To remind him that love and life and laughter were worth having. Worth cherishing. “We’re married, Adam. This fire is what most people dream of finding.”
“Fires usually burn out fast.”
“Sometimes,” she said with a short nod. “But while they burn, it’s an amazing thing.”
“You’re not going to listen to anybody about this, are you?”
“No,” she admitted.
“Thank God.”
He released her wrists and without a word, reached for the cloth belt at her waist. Pulling it free, he silently swept the sides of the robe back, baring her naked body to his gaze.
Gina shivered a little as the cool, night air kissed her skin, but that minor chill dissipated under Adam’s steady, heat-filled gaze. Her nipples peaked, tightening in the cold, aching for the touch of his lips, his mouth. His hands moved over her body, the hard calluses on his fingers scraping against her skin with an erotic friction