He shrugged and took a step forward. She shivered. He was all masculine grace. He moved as if he owned the world, and given that he’d seen it from orbit maybe he did.
She wanted to be in control. But she couldn’t help wondering if giving in to lust would finally answer the question that had niggled at her for thirteen long years. Would he be the lover she’d always dreamed of? Sixteen-year-old Molly had been sure of it. Twenty-nine-year-old Molly had been disappointed by men before. But she wanted this, wanted him.
Always had.
“So...”
“You certainly aren’t any more eloquent than you used to be,” she said, closing the gap between them. Acting without thinking.
That was the key. Don’t think. She had been thinking way too much since her father died and she’d seen Jason’s name on the will. She’d been questioning why her father, whom she’d thought she’d known so well, had named him in the will and not just her. Did he think she needed a man’s help?
Stop.
Don’t think.
Act.
She put her hands on Jason’s shoulders. His skin was hot, hard under her touch, and damn he smelled good. She went up on her tiptoes, hung there balanced only by her hands on his body.
He arched one eyebrow at her but didn’t make another move. She felt the unspoken dare between them. Was she going to do this or back away as she had in the kitchen?
“Ah, hell.”
Jason’s words lingered in the air around them as his mouth came down on hers. For a mouth that had always looked so strong and tough, it was soft against hers. He took the kiss slowly as if he had all the time in the world.
They had this night.
Nothing was complicated in this empty house with the moon shining down on them. She held tightly on to his shoulders as he parted his lips and she felt the first thrust of his tongue in her mouth.
He tasted of whiskey and temptation. Two things she knew she should resist right now but was unable to.
She was tired of denying herself. Jason McCoy. She’d wanted him for longer than she could remember and at last it seemed he was hers for the taking.
No more regrets.
He settled his hands on her hips, drawing her closer, and the silk nightie she wore under the robe did nothing to protect her from the intense heat of his embrace. He thrust his tongue deeper into her mouth and she felt a fire start in her soul and fan outward.
She pulled back, looking up into his eyes. They were heavy-lidded, half-closed. Slowly he opened them.
MOLLY STARED UP into eyes the color of the morning sky, trying not to lose herself. She knew why she was out here in the hallway after midnight. But it was too much to believe that he’d wandered into the hall at the same moment, also unable to sleep.
“Why are you actually here?” she asked. Her voice sounded husky, needy. Too feminine. She might want to pretend Jason didn’t affect her, but that would be a lie. Her father hadn’t held with lying so neither would she.
“To see the land, to figure things out with you,” he said, but he’d turned away. He put his hands on his hips and looked out the big window at the inky-black sky beyond. She wondered if, when he looked at the night sky, it made him long to be back among the stars.
She had questions about that part of his life, but mostly, right now, she needed to not turn something meaningless into a big deal. Her dad had died. She felt tears burning her eyes. She hoped one day she’d be able to think about him without this gut-wrenching pain, but she wasn’t there yet. Would she ever be?
“Hey, you all right?”
She shook her head. “Just—”
Her voice, heavy with tears, sounded deep and almost unintelligible.
“It’s okay. I miss Mick, too,” he said.
Miss him. She ached with his loss. She still wasn’t ready to be on her own with the ranch or in life. She needed her father’s advice. Now more than ever.
More tears fell and all of a sudden she was sobbing. She had heard it said that grief was the photo negative of love, but she wasn’t ready to accept it. It was just a huge hole in her that could never be filled.
Jason cursed and then pulled her into his arms. He didn’t do anything else. Just held her as sobs racked her body and her emotions fell in a gush of tears. She had no idea how much time had passed until she was hiccupping softly and the tears had almost dried up.
“Sorry for that,” she said, taking a step backward.
“I’m not,” he admitted. He wiped the trail of moisture off her face and then sighed. “I’m also here because...I have a few health concerns after spending a year on the International Space Station and my commander wants me to take a break.”
“Oh. I appreciate your honesty. So what’s wrong with your health?”
“Nothing that some time in Earth’s gravity shouldn’t fix. Everyone is betting on that. But I’m mainly at the ranch for the reasons I gave you before—because we need to talk, to figure out what we are going to do with this place,” he said.
“And kissing me was...what was that?” she asked. Oh, God, had she once again thrown herself at Jason? What was it about him that made her abandon common sense?
Aside from his rock-hard body, chiseled jaw and brilliant blue eyes. Those were things any woman would find appealing. But she didn’t normally throw herself at men just because they were attractive.
“That was us. I guess it’s always been there between us, but we never really took the time to pursue it,” he said.
She arched one eyebrow at him. She felt energy and anger coursing through her, but she knew focusing on these feelings was just an easy way to pretend she wasn’t still missing her dad. “Pursue it?”
He shrugged. One of those gestures men make when they know better than to answer a woman.
“You just admitted you are leaving as soon as you get the all clear from NASA,” she said. “We aren’t pursuing anything.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” he said, moving closer to her. She felt the heat of his body and found it very hard to look away from his naked chest. Besides the scar on his left side, he had a tattoo that read To boldly go.
He took another step closer and she put her hand up. Kissing him had been foolish. She was a practical woman. She always had been. And now, with Dad gone, she really needed to think rationally. The ranch was in financial trouble, as it had been for years, and she needed to focus on that.
Not wonder what it would feel like to run her finger over Jason’s tattoo.
“What are you thinking?” he asked. His voice was low and it brushed over her senses like a warm breeze. She wanted to close her eyes and tip her face up, but she didn’t. She’d had her kiss. And it was hotter than she had ever expected. But now she had to go back to being Molly.
“Nothing.”
Nothing. Really? She was intelligent and her remarks had been known to leave men speechless, but with Jason she felt like she was sixteen-year-old Molly in the throes of her crush.
“Well, nothing I want to talk about with you,” she admitted. “I’m not myself tonight. And I want to be like Scarlett and put my troubles off for another day.”
“I’m not myself, either,” he admitted. “Who is Scarlett?”
“Scarlett O’Hara from Gone