Her Outback Knight. Melissa James
said it outright, “I don’t want you to walk away again and leave whatever this is between us hanging for another two years.”
He laughed then—not with his whole heart, not as cheerful as the past—but still he’d laughed, and she’d done it for him. She felt a little glow of pride. This reaching out and doing things for people actually felt pretty good—at least, it felt good with Jim.
When he spoke, the warm laughter was still there…but so was the desire. “Spoken like the straight-from-the-hip woman you are.”
“Is that bad?” She moved her hands on his chest.
His eyes darkened. “It’s good, Danni. It’s damn good. I didn’t think you’d ever admit to it.” He pulled her closer. “Come on, little fighter. Make it real.”
Maybe he wanted her; maybe he just wanted one piece of good news tonight, or a distraction from the knock he’d suffered. Maybe he was lying to himself—but he was too honest to do that. And he’d been looking at her like that before the call.
She didn’t question why, after a lifetime of denial with men, she wanted to say this, and now; she only knew she must, or he wouldn’t kiss her. Her hands caressed up his chest to his shoulders; then, the ache of her yearning made truth imperative. She pulled at him, trying to bring him down to her. “I want you, Haskell, all right? I want to be with you.”
That gorgeous, big-as-the-Outback grin she’d always hungered to see even as she’d pretended to hate it, spread across his face. “Now say the rest of it,” he whispered, resisting her pull, forcing her out of all hiding. Making the thing between them as honest as it was inevitable.
“All right. I’ve wanted you for two years.” She sighed impatiently, tugging harder. “And waiting for you to touch me again is making me crazy. So shut up and kiss me. Then maybe we can get back to being friends.”
He leaned down into her and nuzzled her hair. “We’ve never been friends, Danni. You never let me in,” he murmured in a warm, blurry voice, thick with desire.
Why did he think she hadn’t? She’d wanted this for so many years, ached for it, and getting close to him wasn’t an option when he was never close enough.
Need was pain now. She couldn’t think beyond him, his touch, his closeness that wasn’t close enough. “Now, Haskell, or I might have to kill you.”
With a low chuckle he turned his face, trailing his lips over her ear, her cheek and jaw…and she purred in the purest pleasure she’d ever known.
Hearing Danni making the little, feminine sounds of desire—how the hell has she wanted me for so long?—drove Jim almost out of his head; yet still he took his time, keeping his kisses slow, gentle and arousing. He tasted the silky skin of her jaw down to her throat. So soft and sweet…she tasted like rich, creamy ice cream.
He’d always had an unquenchable greed when it came to ice cream.
Did her mouth taste the same? He had to know—and she was turning her face, seeking his mouth in blind want. With a groan, he lifted her up against him—so small and sweet, this Danni; how could he ever have compared her to a Sherman tank?—and let it happen.
Bam.
He’d known for years he had the hots for Danni—what guy wouldn’t, given her delicate loveliness, the challenge of her defences and battleground intellect?—but he’d dismissed it as an inconvenient desire that would never stack up against his love for Laila. But man, with that first touch on his shoulder, meant only in comfort, Danni had knocked him for six in a way Laila never had.
Was it possible that, blinded by what he’d thought was real love for Laila, he’d been ignoring something incredible he could have had with Danni? All these years, thinking something was wrong with him, that only lightweight girls returned his desire, while the kind of woman he really wanted—intelligent, sensitive, focussed and strong, never wanted him…
Now his desire was being fulfilled by a woman who not only had all those qualities in spades, but was returning kiss for kiss. Her delicate roundness was lying flush against him, her throat made eager sounds…and he felt as if he were flying. The simple act of kissing—and he’d done a lot of it in the past three years, among other things—had never felt so amazing, so intense.
Why that suddenly brought everything back to him, he didn’t know. One moment he felt as if he were captain of Starship Danielle, the next he was putting her down, staggering back and staring at her as if—as if—
Damned if he knew what. Damned if he knew anything at this point.
Within a moment, he regretted his panic-inspired reaction, because Danni had gone from soft, flushed and starry-eyed to having more defences than a hedgehog. Her mouth, dark in the night but he knew was rosy and flushed from his kiss, opened to say something stinging—and he couldn’t think of a thing to say to stop her this time.
“Don’t tell me—‘it’s not you, it’s me,’” she said, her tone flippant. Her hands were on her hips, her chin up, ready to do battle.
The trouble was he’d dumped himself on earth from the stratosphere too fast; he couldn’t think beyond what had made him panic in the first place. “I don’t know who I am.” He half turned from her. “My father isn’t my father, either. Nobody is who I thought they were—and I’m not anything I thought I was. I have to know the truth.”
The sarcasm wiped from her face. When she spoke, the warm, half-laughing ruefulness reached inside his soul, into the pain and softening it. “That’s just typical of you, Haskell, you know that? You can put me in the wrong so fast my head spins.”
Ridiculously relieved that he’d somehow said the right thing with her for once, he grinned. “Well, you just made my head spin, so we’re even.”
In the moonlight, he could see her blush.
“I still want you, Danni.” He could hear the huskiness in his voice. “But I’ve got no idea where even I’m going from here, so I can’t say where we would go.”
“I know where you’re going. To your parents’ house,” she said, taking his hand. Her face was very gentle now. “From there—” she shrugged “—I never expected promises. We indulged ourselves for a few minutes, and it was pretty nice. But you have things you have to sort out, and I’m along for the ride while I work out my future. So let’s get back to…no, let’s become friends, Jim Haskell.” With a lifted chin and a smile of promised camaraderie, she shook the hand she held.
Not for long, though. Jim released her hand so fast she stumbled back over one of the tree roots, staring at him in shock.
No way!
He could see the danger signs plastered, posted and splashed all over whatever this was with Danni. After that life-changing kiss, she was saying she hadn’t wanted anything from him beyond the moment.
Liar. Liar!
Danni Morrison was not about to become another woman in the life of Jim Haskell, Woman’s Best Friend!
Without warning, everything that had happened to him tonight—or maybe all his life—took its toll. Nothing would ever be the same again—and happy-go-lucky, roll-with-the-punches Jim Haskell disappeared. Pure, unadulterated fury flooded through him, all of it currently aimed at the woman trying not to land on her butt between tree roots and powdery red earth.
She’d never called him a friend before—he sure as hell wasn’t going to let her get away with that kind of cowardice now. He’d become Danni’s friend when the equator froze over. The woman was always geared for battle—he’d see how she handled it when someone took up the gauntlet.
Without warning he grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s hit the road,” he snarled.
“Jim, what are you doing?” she cried as he all but dragged her into the restaurant and snatched up her bag.
“You coming?”