A Diamond In The Rough. Catherine Mann
understand that.” He braced his shoulders, his eyes cold with an anger Johanna knew wasn’t directed at her. “I’m not a drug addict like my mother. And while I’m not a monk, I’m monogamous during a relationship. I am my own man. I control myself and my destiny.”
She rubbed soothing circles along his arm. Even if this conversation wouldn’t change things between them, she knew he needed to get these words out and for some reason she was the person he trusted most to tell.
She drew in a bracing breath of salty air before continuing, “How did you find out about your father?”
“My mother told me.”
“That simple?”
“Apparently so. She was high at the time and to this day doesn’t remember telling me.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was twenty-five when she let it slip about the man who fathered me—Dale Banks.”
Johanna gasped in recognition. “The Dale Banks? The country music star?”
“My mom was a groupie back in the day.” He shrugged. “She hooked up with him and here I am.”
She studied his features with a new perspective. Wind whipped her hair over her face, and she scraped the locks aside. “You do look a little like him. I never noticed until now....”
“I needed more reassurance than a look-alike contest. So I confronted him.”
“How did you get past his security guards?”
“I have influence of my own.” He smiled darkly. “Remember the benefit concert we sponsored a few years back?”
She did the quick math and realized Stone would have been in his mid-twenties then. She couldn’t imagine how difficult that meeting must have been. “You arranged that to speak with him?”
“I’m not above using philanthropy for my own good, as well.”
“You don’t need to be sarcastic to cover your emotions.” She slid her hand to his back and tucked her body to his side as if it was the most natural thing in the world to share his burdens. And it was. She drew in the heat and salty scent of him, her senses starved after months without him. “That had to have been difficult for you, confronting him.”
“I didn’t. I got a DNA sample during dinner.”
“What?” She looked up sharply, unable to believe she’d heard him correctly. “You tricked him?”
“Easier than forcing the matter with a conversation where he denied it and I had to prove him a liar.”
He didn’t fool her for a second with this blasé act.
“What did he say when you finally told him?”
“He doesn’t know. Why should he? He slept with a woman he didn’t know and didn’t care enough to follow up.”
“Stone!” She cupped his face and made him look at her. “Maybe he’s changed. Perhaps he has regrets and would like to know you now.”
“I don’t need him in my life,” he said in a cold tone that left no room for negotiation.
“Maybe he needs you,” she suggested. “People are so much more important than money or fame.”
“That’s right. You grew up poor but loved,” he said sarcastically.
Again, he didn’t fool her. She patted his cheek just a touch harder than a love tap. “Don’t be a jerk.”
“Maybe I’m letting my real side show.” He turned his face to kiss her palm, then nipped it gently.
She wouldn’t let him divert her with sex. She slipped her hand back down to his shoulder. “How did we spend so much time together and never talk about these things?”
“You were right in saying I was holding back.”
She couldn’t believe he’d admitted it. “Why are you telling me now? And please be truthful.”
“I’m not really sure.” He snagged a strand of her hair and stroked the length with gentle pressure. “Maybe because there’s nothing left to lose between us. You’ve already ditched me. Why bother working my ass off to impress you?”
“You were working to impress me?” She couldn’t resist smiling.
“Clearly, I failed.” He looped the lock around his finger until he cupped the back of her head.
“Not totally.” She stepped closer, unable to resist the sizzle, especially not combined with the vulnerability he’d shown in sharing what he’d found out about his father. “I did agree to marry you.”
She arched up on her toes and kissed him. How could she not? Her body ached to be with him. They were two consenting adults, alone together, attached to no one else and both so very aware of the price of being together.
His arms banded around her, thick, muscled arms that held her with such gentle power she leaned closer until her breasts pressed to the hard bare wall of his chest. His mouth tasted of the salty ocean and sweet tea, a heady combination for a woman already teetering on the edge of losing control.
She sketched along the hard planes of his back, still damp from his swim and perspiration. So many nights she’d lain awake yearning to be with him again and now those restless fantasies were coming to life. Being away from home gave her the freedom to act on those impulses.
Stone caressed down her back to her hips, molding her closer to him, his arousal pressing against her stomach.
“Johanna,” he groaned against her mouth. “You’re killing me here. If you want to stop, we need to put the brakes on this now. It’s up to you what happens next. How are we going to handle this attraction that’s tearing us both apart?”
She dipped her hands into his swim trunks. “We’re going to sleep together again. Tonight.”
Finally, he had Johanna back in his arms again, even if just for a night. Only a fool would pass up this chance, and he was not a fool.
Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her, fully, tongues meeting and inhibitions gone. A perfect fit, just like before. Familiar and new all at once—their time apart added an edge to the need.
He backed her into the cottage, their bare legs tangling as they walked, notching his desire higher and higher with each provocative brush of skin against skin. Her fingers linked behind his neck as she writhed against him in a lithe dance of desire denied for far too long.
Impatiently, he pushed open the door with such urgency it slammed against the wall. His hands slid low, cupping her bottom and lifting her over the threshold. Once inside the cottage, he set her down, the bamboo floor cool under his feet in contrast to the heat searing through him.
Their bathing suits offered thin barriers between them, but too much right now. He bunched her whispery cover up in his hands and swept it over her head. He’d seen her in her bikini earlier—had seen her in far less—but she still took his breath away. Her simple black two-piece called to his hands, triangles begging to be peeled away.
She smiled with a siren’s gleam in her eyes. “This is usually the point where you drop your Stetson on my head.”
“I left it on my suitcase. Not too many cowboy hats on the beach while a guy’s riding a wave.”
“That’s a damn shame.” She traced the rope tattoo around his biceps, which ended in a lasso loop.
He and his cousins had gotten tattoos together when the twins had turned eighteen. He’d been twenty-one. Johanna had wanted to go with them. He’d forgotten that until just now. She’d wanted to get paw print tattoos on her ankle, but he’d known her