“I came better prepared this time, too,” he said and reached behind the cooler for a small, battery-operated radio. He turned it on and a woman’s voice soared into the shadows, singing of love. “Remember the battery on my old truck died that night? Left the radio playing too long and we had to use the ranch walkie-talkie to get Henry to come out and give us a jump?”
She remembered. She also remembered the knowing look Henry had given the two of them. But the ranch foreman hadn’t said a word. He’d only gotten Nathan’s truck running again and then left.
“That was embarrassing,” she said with a sad smile.
“It was,” he agreed, then gave her another quick grin. “But it was worth it.”
Her hand tightened on the slender base of the crystal wineglass. Nathan was pushing past all of her defenses, one smile at a time.
She turned away from him and looked out over the river. At its widest point, it was no more than six feet across, but it was a wild river, fed from the distant mountains and left unchecked. The water frothed on the surface, slapping against the banks and over rocks worn smooth over time. While she watched, a trout jumped from the water only to splash back down. Wind sighed through the trees, rattling the leaves.
It was perfect.
A summer night, with the stars overhead. Soft music playing accompaniment to the roar of the river and the man who had been the great love of her life at her side. How many times had she wished for just this over the years?
She looked at Nathan as he reached into the cooler and pulled out two cookies. Handing one to her, he smiled and said, “You always did like Louisa’s pecan cookies.”
Her heart fisted in her chest. He looked so damn…harmless. And he so wasn’t.
“You’re evil,” she said, nipping the cookie from his fingers and taking a bite.
He nodded. “You used to like that about me.”
“There are a lot of things I used to like.”
“But not anymore.” The words were clipped. Cool.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Didn’t have to,” he told her and then shrugged as he took a bite of his cookie. “I feel the same way.”
“Good to know,” she muttered, as her foolishly hopeful heart sunk a little in her chest.
“Things’ve changed,” he said.
“If that’s what you brought me out here to tell me,” Amanda said, “you wasted your time. I already knew that.”
“But the thing is,” he said, as if she hadn’t spoken at all, “some things don’t change.”
He reached out and stroked the tip of his fingers down the back of her hand and along her arm. Amanda shivered.
“Not fair.” She pulled her hand free of him and dropped the cookie to the quilt before she stood up and moved to the edge of the river.
Music continued to sail into the deepening night. The river rushed on and, above her, the stars were glittering against the dark sky.
She heard him stand, then walk up behind her. When his hands dropped onto her shoulders, she was already braced for the heat that poured from his body into hers.
“Why the hell should I play fair?” he demanded and turned her around to face him.
“Why are you playing at all?” she countered and waited, watching his features in the indistinct light.
“Because I can’t get you out of my head,” he admitted, his voice harsh and deep, as if it were crawling up from the center of him.
If he could admit at least that much, then she could, too. “I feel the same way.”
He slid his hands up and down her upper arms as if chasing away a chill she didn’t have. In fact, she was so hot at the moment, she couldn’t imagine ever being cold again.
Amanda took a breath, tipped her head back to look up at him and said, “Wine. Cookies. Music.” She waved one hand at the frothy river beside them. “This place. What is it you want, Nathan? Truth.”
“Truth.” He tasted the word as if trying to decide if he liked the idea of it or not. Finally, though, he nodded and said, “Truth is, Amanda, there’s a lot of history between us and until we get it sorted out, life in Royal’s going to be harder than it has to be for both of us.”
Disappointment flashed through her before she could stop it. Of course that’s why he’d done all this. To soften her up. To make her malleable enough to agree to however he wanted to handle things. So much for change, she thought glumly.
“We’ve already had our ‘talk,’ Nathan.”
“Yeah, we did,” he agreed. “But it wasn’t enough.”
She pulled away from him and walked even closer to the river’s edge, where spray reached up from the water’s surface to kiss her skin. She turned her face up to the sky and fixed her gaze on one star in particular. It was a focus point, to center her thoughts, to gather her frazzled nerves.
She didn’t want to talk about the past anymore. It only brought pain. Still watching that star, she asked, “What more is there to say, Nathan?”
She heard him move to stand behind her again. She felt the heat of his body reaching out for hers. Felt the frisson of something incredible that she always felt when close to Nathan.
Once again, his hands came down on her shoulders and a whip of electricity snaked through her in an instant. She closed her eyes and took a breath to steady herself—an idea that went to hell the moment he started speaking. “Can we leave the past where it is, Amanda? Live here in town without going back there?”
“I want to,” she said and it was the truth. The past was pain and she’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.
“Then we make a pact. We deal with the present. Starting fresh.”
“Just like that?” Was it even possible? she asked herself.
“Won’t be easy,” he admitted, “but it’s easier than hauling the past around with us wherever we go.”
It sounded good, but she wasn’t as sure as he was that it could be done. But, talking with him, being with him, without the hurtful memories, was worth taking the chance.
“A pact,” she agreed and held out one hand.
He looked at it, smiled, then took her hand in his, smoothing his fingers over her knuckles. His voice was soft, low and as mesmerizing as the rush of the river below.
“You’re still in my blood, Amanda.”
Her heart jumped into high gear and she swayed on her feet. But his hands only tightened on her shoulders. He bent his head until his mouth was beside her ear. His voice came again and his warm breath dusted her skin.
“I think about you. Dream about you. Want you.”
“Nathan …” Her blood felt as if it were bubbling in her veins.
He spun her around, pulled her close and took her right hand in his left. Confused, Amanda only stared at him, until he said, “Dance with me.”
He didn’t give her a chance to answer. To decide yes or no. Instead, he began to sway to the music and she let herself move with him. He held her tightly, her body pressed along the length of his and she felt…everything, just as he’d wanted her to.
Her body lit up inside as desire pulsed like a beacon deep within her. He must have sensed it.