“She tightened her seat belt yet again, so she felt like she was wearing a strait jacket—appropriate dress for someone as crazy as she had to have been to come along on this trip.”
“When Bay was done she looked down at herself, dressed in a plain white bra, torn bikini underwear, and cowboy boots. “I feel like I’m dressed for the midnight show at the Crazy Horse Saloon,” she muttered. Her mouth went dry when she looked at Owen, who was left wearing cowboy boots and black Calvin Klein’s. The knit cotton underwear hugged him lovingly from waist to thighs. He was a female’s fantasy come to life.They stared at each other, enjoying what they saw. And realizing just how close they’d come to losing their lives.“You look good,” he said.”
“As she lifted her own backpack over the side of the black, heavy-duty dodge pickup, Owen took it out of her hands and set it beside the one-man tent and sleeping bag the FBI had provided for him.“I could have done that,” she said.“Sure you could. But my daddy taught me a gentleman always helps a lady.” Bay was so startled at what he’d said, and the chagrined way he’s said it, that she laughed. “Oh, my god. Chauvinism is alive and well—”“We call it chivalry, or Southern courtesy, ma’am,” he said. She realized he was heading around the truck to open the door for her.She stepped in front of him and said, “It’s going to be a long trip if you refuse to let me pull my weight. I can get my own door, Mr. Blackthorne.”For a minute, she thought he was going to make an issue of it. Then he touched the brim of his hat, shot her a rakish grin that turned her insides to mush, and said, “Whatever you say, Mizz Creed.”She was so flustered, she took a half step backward, slid into the seat when he opened the door for her after all, and said, “My friends call me Bay.”Bay flushed as she realized what she’d said. As he came around the hood and got in, she said, “That is—I mean—you know what I mean!”He belted himself into the driver’s seat and started the engine, before he turned to her and said, “My friends call me Owe. You can call me Owen.”She stared at him disbelief. “Oh. You. Blackthorne, you.”
“I’m wondering what it would be like to be kissed by you.”“Let’s not go there,” he said. “I don’t want to mess up our friendship.”“It wouldn’t,” she said, grinning suddenly. “I’d like to know how it feels. I mean, as an experiment.”“Put the wrong chemicals together, and they explode.”She frowned. “Are you saying you don’t think I’d like it? Or that I would?”“It doesn’t matter, because I’m not going to kiss you.”She looked up at him shyly, from beneath lowered lashes, and gave him a cajoling smile. “Just one teeny, weeny little kiss?”He laughed at her antics. Inside his stomach, about a million butterflies had taken flight. “Don’t play games with me, Summer.” He said it with a smile, but it was a warning.One she ignored.She crooked her finger and wiggled it, gesturing him toward her. “Come here, and give me a little kiss.”She was doing something sultry with her eyes, something she’d never done before. She’d turned on some kind of feminine heat, because he was burning up just looking at her. “Stop this,” he said in a guttural voice.She canted her hip and put her hand on it, drawing his attention in that direction, then slid her tongue along the seam of her lips to wet them. “I’m ready, bad boy. What are you waiting for?”His heart was beating a hundred miles a minute. He was hot and hard and ready. And if he touched her, he was going to ruin everything.“I’m not going to kiss you, Summer.”He saw the disappointment flash in her eyes. Saw the determination replace it. “All right. I’ll kiss you.”He could have stopped her. He was the one with the powerful arms and the broad chest and the long, strong legs.But he wanted that kiss. “Fine,” he said. “Don’t expect fireworks. I’m only doing this because we’re friends.” And if she believed that, he had some desert brushland he could sell her.Suddenly, she seemed uncertain, and he felt a pang of loss. Silly to feel it so deeply, when kissing Summer had been the last thing he’d allowed himself to dream about. Although, to be honest, he hadn’t always been able to control his dreams. She’d been there, all right. Hot and wet and willing. He made himself smile at her. “Don’t worry, kid. It was a bad idea. To be honest, I value our friendship too much—”She threw herself into his arms, clutching him around the neck, so he had to catch her or get bowled over. “Whoa, there,” he said, laughing and hugging her with her feet dangling in the air. “It doesn’t matter that you’ve changed your mind about wanting that kiss. I’m just glad to be your friend.”She leaned back in his embrace, searching his eyes, looking for something. Before he could do or say anything to stop her, she pressed her lips softly against his.His whole body went rigid.“Billy,” she murmured against his lips. “Please. Kiss me back.”“Summer, I don’t—”She pressed her lips against his again, damp and pliant and inviting. He softened his mouth against hers, felt the plumpness of her upper lip, felt the open, inviting seam, and let his tongue slide along the length of it.“Oh.” She broke the kiss and stared at him with dazed eyes. Eyes that sought reason where there was none.He wanted to rage at her for ruining everything. They could never be friends now. Not now that he’d tasted her, not now that she’d felt his want and his need. He lowered his head to take her mouth, to take what he’d always wanted.”
“What’s your greatest regret?” she asked.He turned to look at her, then focused his eyes on the windshield in front of him. “You.”She felt an ache in her chest. “That you admitted you loved me? Or that you took me with you?”“Both.”“Will it help if I say I’m in love with you?”He shot another quick look in her direction, but a sudden gust of wind hit, and he had to focus on sideslipping the plane.When it was steady again, he focused piercing gray eyes on her and asked, “Are you in love with me?”“I think so.”
“Too anxious to sit still, she stood in the stirrups to stretch her legs, then moved her bottom back and forth in the saddle until she found a comfortable spot to settle. She dallied her reins loosely around the saddle horn and reached up to unbutton the top two buttons of her blouse, then leaned over and shook the cotton cloth back and forth to cool herself. Her Stetson hat came off next. She settled it on the saddle horn, so what little breeze there was could reach the sweat on her nape.“What the hell kind of strip show are you putting on?”Bay nearly fell out of the saddle at Owen’s angry outburst. She jerked upright, knocking her hat off the horn and onto the ground. Her horse saw the shadow when it fell, figured it for a dangerous, horse-eating jackrabbit, and shied violently toward Owen’s mount.His horse took exception to being bumped and kicked out with both hooves, striking Bay’s horse in the rump, which grabbed for the reins, but they fell loose from the horn, and she was helpless to restrain her mount when he began to run helter-skelter down the canyon, sunfishing and crowhopping. Bay was thrown up onto her mount’s neck, where she held on for dear life. She heard Owen galloping behind her and knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up to her. But a narrow passage was coming up, and there wasn’t room for both her and her horse. She was going to be scraped off. Unless she jumped first.From her precious perch, Bay stared down at the rocky soil racing past her nose and thought of all the movies she’d seen where cowboys leaped from their horses and got up and walked away. Surely it couldn’t be that difficult.In a moment, when they reached that narrow passage, the choice was going to be taken from her. Bay closed her eyes and launched herself as far as she could from her horse’s flashing hooves.And landed like a sack of wet cement.She skidded for maybe two feet along the rocky bed of the canyon. On her face. And her right hip. And her left hand.When she stopped, she lay there stunned for a moment, then gave a shaky laugh. “Oh, that was not at all like it is in the movies.”
“If you know anything,” he said. “If you can give us any help finding—”“The truth is, I can help you find those mines.” Bay couldn’t believe the enormous lie that had just come out of her mouth. She took a deep breath and added, “But you have to take me with you to the Big Bend.”“I work alone.”“Then we’re finished here,” Bay said, turning to leave.Owen caught her before she’d taken two steps. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what you know.”“I’ll tell you everything when we get to the Big Bend.”“I can’t take you with me, Dr. Creed. It’s too dangerous. If you help me out, I’ll make sure your brother gets a chance to tell his story in court.”Bay gave an unladylike snort. “I don’t believe you.”She was surprised at the anger that flared in his eyes before he said, “I’m not in the habit of lying.”“I’ve never met an honest Blackthorne,” she said. “And I sure as hell don’t trust you.”“I ought to arrest you for obstruction,” he muttered.“Go ahead!” she challenged. “Then I can tell them how you manhandled me.” She glanced towards his tight grasp on her arm, then put her fingertips to her aching throat, and said, “I’m sure I’ll have the bruises to prove it.”He looked down in surprise to where his fingers were clamped on her forearm, as though he’d had no notion of how tightly he was holding her, and abruptly he let her go. She rubbed her arm and said, “When do we leave?”“You wouldn’t be able to keep up with me.”“Of course I would,” she replied. “I’m incredibly fit.”She felt her stomach flutter as his eyes raked her from legs to belly to breasts . . . and lingered there appreciatively. His heavy-lidded gaze lifted to her mouth, and she nervously slid her tongue across her lips. She felt a quiver of anticipation as his eyes locked on hers, hot and needy.“You can’t come with me,” he said at last. “You’d be a . . . dangerous distraction.”