Christmas at Blue Moon Ranch. Lynnette Kent
rolled his eyes. “I haven’t had that much alcohol in quite a while.” Propping his cane in front of him, he pulled himself to his feet. “I’ll get out of your—”
The stick tilted. His head swirled, his balance deserted him and suddenly he was falling forward. Toward Willa. Daniel managed to twist enough to avoid landing on her, but his weak leg wouldn’t support his weight. He bounced onto the mattress beside her.
Laughing hard, Willa fell back to lie beside him.
“I didn’t do that on purpose,” Daniel said. “I told you—”
“I know. We’ve both had too much to drink.” She wiped her eyes, still laughing. “What a disaster.”
“Yeah.” He propped himself on an elbow and looked down at her. “You’re beautiful when you laugh.”
She sniffed and wiped her eyes again. “That’s quite a line.”
“No line.” He touched her cheek with his fingertips. “Soft. Smooth.”
“Daniel…”
“You can stop me,” he told her as he leaned closer. “Just say no.” A slight press of his fingers turned her face toward his. He brushed his lips across hers. “Just say no.”
He made another pass across that wide, generous mouth, but he didn’t hear a word. Her hand came up and cupped the back of his neck, bringing him even closer. And then he was kissing Willa Mercado for all he was worth.
Willa couldn’t believe how good it felt. How good he felt. The size and weight of him, the warmth of him surrounding her, seemed like a miracle. She’d been so cold for so long.
His mouth skimmed hers, lingered, plundered. He tasted of tequila and lime, but also something essentially, basically male. He smelled like soap and clean clothes and good man. As he kissed his way across her cheek and down her throat, she buried her face in the bend of his neck and breathed deeply of that wonderful scent.
Like magic, the buttons of her blouse came undone. For a second the air chilled her bare skin, but then Daniel chased the cold away, pressing kisses on her breast bone, the balls of her shoulders, the hollow between her breasts and everywhere in between. Willa sighed, and in the next moment her bra disappeared. First his hand claimed her and then his mouth, and she cried out at the shock of pleasure.
She went a little crazy after that, desperate for more of…well, everything. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and she gave up after the second one to pull the damn thing over his head. To her surprise, he wore a plain white T-shirt underneath, yet another barrier. When she reached for the hem, though, Daniel drew back.
“Don’t,” he said raggedly, and bent to kiss the inner curve of her elbow. “I’m not nearly as gorgeous as you are.”
Willa gasped at the stroke of his tongue against her skin, and forgot to argue with him. A few minutes later he eased her slacks over her hips. Once he’d dragged his palm along the length of her legs, she wasn’t sure she remembered her own name.
“Daniel,” she whispered, arching closer, wrapping a leg around his hips to draw him nearer still. Hard met soft, and she moaned. “Please. Please, tell me we don’t have to stop.”
She heard his low chuckle, saw a flash of that fabulous grin. He backed off enough to unfasten and strip off his jeans.
“Not a chance. I was a Boy Scout.” He jerked his wallet out of the discarded pants and pulled out a duo of condoms. In the second he used to break open one package, Willa stroked her hand up his thigh, underneath the hem of his pale blue boxers.
Instead of the smooth skin and firm muscle she expected, the flesh she touched was a landscape of ridges and valleys, hard and harsh.
Daniel froze, and she looked at him in horror. “My God,” Willa said. “Those are…scars?”
He nodded, then took a deep breath. “Sorry.” With an awkward shift of his hips, he started to move away.
But Willa came with him. “No. Daniel, don’t.” On her knees behind him, she put her arms around his shoulders and her head on his shoulder. “Don’t.”
His shoulders lifted on a deep breath. “I wasn’t thinking. I know what I look like. I shouldn’t have subjected—”
“Hush.” She sat back on her heels and grasped the hem of the T-shirt. He jerked, clearly wanting to escape, but she put a hand on his shoulder. “Stay.” Biting her lower lip, she deliberately peeled up the white T-shirt, uncovering the mutilated skin of his back. Tears rolled down her face as Willa studied the map of purple grooves and red hills she’d revealed.
“I’m so sorry.” She put a finger gently on one of the scars. “So sorry.” The pain he’d endured was unimaginable. How had he even survived? If Jamie had come back to her like this…how would he have felt? What would she have done?
“It’s okay.” Daniel pulled down the T-shirt again and shifted to face her. “I’m okay. Really. Don’t cry, Willa.” He wiped her cheeks with his thumbs, then bent to give her a quick kiss.
She understood he meant to leave without finishing what they’d started. But despite seeing the horrors he’d suffered, Willa didn’t want to let him go. Even as he drew back, she circled her arms around his neck.
“Stay.”
His eyebrows drew together, his blue eyes questioning, doubtful. “Are you sure?”
“Oh, yes.”
He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. “Thank God.”
And then he came back to her, stronger, more demanding than before. The room heated up, or maybe that was just her body, on fire everywhere Daniel touched her, everywhere he kissed. And that was everywhere. Finally, they lay together, skin to skin. He moved inside of her…gently, at first, then harder, faster, till the bed rocked and her body thrashed and her senses exploded into a brilliant climax. Before she could catch a single breath, Daniel gave a strangled cry.
And then he relaxed, falling to the side, drawing her with him into the shelter of the covers and his arms. Safe and sated, Willa plunged mindlessly into sleep.
SHE WOKE UP WINCING, WITH A headache thudding like a bass drum between her ears. Through one squinted eye she saw the yellow line of sunlight at the top of the drapes, which meant she must have slept much later than she’d intended.
In the next second, Willa realized she was naked under the covers. Then she remembered why.
With a gasp, she whipped her head around to see that the other side of the bed was empty. She had a moment to sigh in relief before her stomach revolted and sent her running for the bathroom.
After a few unpleasant minutes, she wiped her face with a cold washcloth. Unable to meet her own eyes in the mirror, she sat on the end of the bed she…they…hadn’t slept in, her fists clenched in her lap, and faced the shameful facts.
Last night, she’d abandoned the last ounce of good sense she possessed to have sex with a man she didn’t know, a man who hadn’t even stayed long enough to say “Good morning.” After fourteen years of marriage and three kids, she should know better than to take this kind of risk.
Every woman had the right to be stupid once in her life, especially as a teenager. Giving in to a boy’s persuasion—“If you loved me you’d do it”—was understandable when you were only sixteen.
But what excuse did she have at thirty-two? How could she have allowed her principles to be overturned by a sexy grin and a pair of sweet blue eyes?
Well, no more. As she jerked on her clothes, Willa swore to herself that she wouldn’t let Daniel Trent get to her. She would keep her distance, make him keep his. With any luck, he’d fail miserably in his attempt at ranching and be gone well before Christmas. All she had to do was wait him out…
…and never again give