Brazen

7

Mac woke with the sun, which meant he'd had little sleep the night before. Not that he was complaining. The naked woman now curled beside his equally naked body made a little lost sleep worthwhile. He stretched and rolled away from her gently. The sunshine beckoned. After pulling on his jeans, he went downstairs and walked outside, but the warmth he found there wasn't the same. Mac didn't care. The great outdoors offered him what he needed most.

Wide-open space and lots of it.

He sat on the wooden porch outside Bear's bar and stared at the empty stretch of road before him. Could a woman complete a man? Mac hadn't thought so, at least not before he'd met Samantha. But once his body had been held tight inside hers, with her wet, moist heat contracting around him, he'd revised his opinion. Not that he'd had the foggiest notion what to do about it except enjoy the moment, but he'd looked into her worried gaze and realized that the moment had passed. He'd have preferred to see passion or contentment filling her beautiful eyes. Instead she'd been troubled.

And then she'd spoken. Other women? He laughed aloud, the harsh sound echoing around him. Since meeting Samantha, he hadn't given other women a passing thought. Since making love to her, and that's exactly what he'd done, he didn't want to. But she sure as hell made it a point to remind him that he should.

He ought to feel slighted and was worried when he didn't. Because he understood Samantha. She wasn't like other woman he knew, which was what drew him to her in the first place. Figures. The first time he meets a woman who lacks pretense, who doesn't want anything from him, who likes the man he is and not the money he has, and she obviously wants nothing to do with him beyond…

Wednesday. Just a few more days.

Damn.

Understanding her the way he did, he knew the barriers she erected made her feel safe, so she raised them whenever he threatened her "other" world, which he seemed to do with increasing frequency. But that was only fair since she threatened not only his world but his sanity. Until now, he'd not only let her get away with it, he'd raised a few bafflers of his own because she had never indicated she wanted more than what they shared now.

Mac didn't kid himself. He'd sensed something unique from the start, but he'd allowed himself to enter a purely sexual relationship, hoping to build more. He had, and together they'd progressed beyond anything either of them had envisioned. For the first time in his life, he was ready to deal with those implications. Most women would swoon at his feet in exchange for a ring. They would be pushing for undying declarations of love while convincing him to fly them to Vegas for marriage.

Thanks to his misguided bragging in his youth and the number of repeat female clientele, most women knew more about Mac than they should. Not his Samantha. At this point Mac had no problem telling her, either. But she wouldn't let him in.

Instead of trying to draw out his emotions, she hid behind sex. Which, he reminded himself, wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Most men would enjoy continuous and varied lovemaking with Samantha. Lord knows Mac did, just not when the lady in question was avoiding him in other ways.

He placed his hands behind his head and leaned back. From his reclining position, he could see the bottom of the balcony, and the memory of Samantha flinging her shirt over the rail replayed itself in his mind. He pushed himself to his feet, but he already knew he hadn't stumbled across the garment this morning.

"What kind of wildlife would be interested in a shirt?" he wondered aloud.

"You looking for this, boy?" Zee's laughter broke through the early morning air.

"I should have known." Mac snatched the cream-colored top out of the old man's grasp. "Don't you ever sleep?"

"Nah. Especially when I figured you could use a hand cleaning up after last night. How is she, anyway?"

He glanced up at the closed window and tried not to picture Samantha as he'd last seen her, naked, one bare leg and an even more enticing bare cheek sticking out from beneath the covers. "Still sleeping."

"Wore her out, did you?"

"Not now, Zee."

The older man followed Mac up the wooden porch and leaned against the corral-style railing. "So you finally fell in love. How's it feel?"

"Like hell," Mac muttered, grateful to have a friendly ear.

"Welcome to the world, boy." Zee grinned. "Just don't tell Bear. Once he gets his woman, I want some grandbabies to bounce on my lap. But yours would be equally as good, so tell the lady the truth and live happily ever after."

"I can't get her to relax enough to tell her my first name," Mac muttered.

Zee shrugged, then placed a gnarled hand on Mac's shoulder, a gesture he'd done so often through the years. "Maybe you haven't tried hard enough. If you want something, go after it. If you don't, you really don't want it that bad."

Mac mulled over that piece of advice while he tossed her shirt into the bar and rejoined Zee on the porch.

"You clean up from last night?" the older man asked.

"Not yet."

"Well, get outta here. I got Hardy and Earl coming by. They've got nothing to do, anyway, and they'll be more than happy to help."

"I can't let you do my work for me."

"You don't, and I'll tell Bear you're leaving ladies' lingerie all over the damn bar. If I had a sexy woman waiting for me, I wouldn't be down here soaking up sunshine. I'd be upstairs soaking up something else." The old man choked on laughter at his own joke.

"Okay, but I owe you one."

"Introduce me to the next lady you meet at The R-"

"So tell me, where's he picking up women, Zee."

At the sound of Samantha's sexy voice, Mac turned. She stood in the doorway, hugging the frame.

"Well, hello, Sammy Jo." After his greeting the older man grew silent. Unusually silent. For the first time, Mac witnessed Zee at a loss for words and realized the older man was protecting his secret.

"Details," Samantha said. A spark settled in her eyes that Mac strove to comprehend. "I want to know where and when." One part determination, he decided, the other part jealousy. He hoped.

"About what?" Zee asked.

It wasn't like Zee to play dumb, and Mac felt bad putting the old man in the middle. "He wants me to introduce him to the first good-looking lady I meet on our trip today," Mac answered for him.

"Trip?" She swung herself out the door, excitement tingeing her voice, a renewed bounce to her step. The yellow tank-top dress she wore clung to her curves in a way that had him drooling. It'd be a long day watching her without touching, but that was exactly what he planned to do.

Once again, for both their sakes, he had no choice.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Someplace relaxing, where we can get away from the bar and you can enjoy the weather." He knew just where to take her. Sometime after Zee made his offer, Mac decided Samantha needed space from the intensity they'd shared.

She was on vacation and needed to feel like it, not to mention the fad that he could use a breather himself.

Sam hadn't realized how much she needed to get away for a while until Mac suggested they do just that. She'd woken up alone, and a whole host of insecurities had greeted her. They came back to haunt her now. So what if it had been good for her? Maybe it had been lousy for him. She bit down on her lower lip, recalling the times and ways they'd made love. Three condoms' worth plus some other imaginative maneuvers. Who'd have thought they came in packages of a dozen? Mac, that's who. No, it had definitely been good for him, too.

But maybe he'd had enough. That was possible. How many men wanted to wake up with a woman once they'd… consummated their relationship, let alone spend another few days with them? Perhaps this trip was more about getting away so he wouldn't have to…

She shook her head to dislodge that horrible prospect. "What do I need to bring?" she asked.

"Yourself."

She glanced at his serious expression. No sexual innuendo danced in his eyes or sounded in his voice. In that moment she knew something had changed between them. "Okay." Her throat grew suddenly dry. "When are we leaving? After we clean up the bar? Because I started while you were outside talking to Zee, and I got as far as-"

"Zee's taking care of things around here today." Zee was awfully quiet, too, she realized. No banter, no jokes from either man. Why did she feel like she'd walked into an episode of The Twilight Zone.

"Okay, what's wrong?" she asked the two men.

"Not a thing. Just too much partying yesterday," Mac said. This time his eyes met hers, and hot passion shimmered in their depths. Last night hovered between them. Warm bodies, hot sex, a release and a sharing she'd never forget.

Apparently he hadn't put it behind him, either. Which meant whatever was bothering him had nothing to do with regret. She hadn't realized how much she feared his turning away from her until she thought he had.

Relief swamped her, and she let out the breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. Blood began to flow back to her fingertips because she'd unclenched her tight fists. She shouldn't be bouncing off his emotions, but she was. And until she heard how he felt, she wouldn't be truly at ease.

Zee cleared his throat. "You go get yourself ready. Me, Earl and Hardy'll finish up around here." The older man gestured to the pickup truck bouncing into The Hungry Bear parking lot.

"Are you sure we shouldn't stick around and help out? We could get started a little later on."

"Positive. Zee and I have an agreement. Anyway, let 'em earn their keep," Mac said with a grin. He gestured inside the bar and she turned, assuming he'd follow.

She took two steps and trod on the shirt she hadn't noticed in her earlier haste to meet up with him outside. She scooped it into her hands.

"Can't have you making a habit of leaving your clothes around this bar, Sammy Jo." His warm breath caressed her ear, and the teasing note had returned to his voice.

"No, we can't," she agreed. She turned around, grasping the shirt in her hand and wringing it like a wet towel. "Listen, Mac. If you're feeling obligated, like you have to shuttle me around until I leave, don't. I can take care of myself and find plenty to do. I can even check into the hotel a couple of days early… assuming there's a room, and if not I can find a motel…" His firm hand clapped gently over her still-moving mouth. She tasted warm, salty skin.

"Everything is fine. You hear me? Fine. And you're not leaving for that conference until the last possible minute."

Relief made her overstressed muscles turn to mush. "It's just that you…" Spit it out, Sammy Jo. There was little-enough truth between them, on her part, anyway. She didn't need to hedge now. "It's just that you seemed so distant when I got out here, so I thought… well you know what I thought."

He removed his hand from her mouth and braced his palms on her shoulders. "I didn't know how you'd be reacting to the morning after, so I was giving you space."

"What if I don't want any?" There would be plenty of distance between her and Mac soon enough, she thought, trying to swallow the painful lump in her throat.

"Then I won't give you any." He dipped his head for a leisurely kiss, warm enough, wet enough, special enough to reassure her. "Now, are you ready to head a little further west?" He eased the shirt, which now looked like a wrinkled rag, out of her hands.

She stared into the dark depths of his eyes and smiled. "Yes." Anything he suggested sounded good to her. "I don't know what you had planned, but when I was straightening out back by the storage room, I found an old picnic basket. I could throw in a few of the things we picked up at the store and we could eat on the road."

"You sure you'd like that better than a restaurant?"

"Hmm. Wide-open spaces versus a crowded room. Hordes of people rather than just you and me? Come to think of it, a restaurant sounds much better."

He laughed and took her hand. "Come on. Let's pull some things together before we're eating under the midday sun."

Sam followed him inside to pack and get ready, determined to make the most of their time. Time that was already ticking away much too fast.

After finding a spot beneath a tree, Mac unloaded their packages while Samantha spread a large blanket across the grass. A warm breeze floated on the dry air. Turkey sandwiches, chips and cola went down quietly, the silence telling him she had finally relaxed. In the ensuing stillness of the desert, Mac enjoyed something that until now had been foreign to him. Comfortable silence with a woman by his side. He hadn't realized such a phenomenon could exist for him.

She bit into her chips with gusto and crunched loud enough to wake the wildlife, then glanced at him and shrugged. "What can I tell you? They crunch when you munch."

He burst out laughing. Damn but she made him feel good. Crumbs had fallen over her yellow top and he reached over to help her clean up. His hand brushed her breasts, and her nipples turned to rigid peaks.

She sucked in a startled breath and he shrugged.

"Sorry."

"No you're not."

He grinned. "You're right. I'm not." He reached into the basket for another cola. "Drink?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, thank you. But it is hot." Despite the wide leaves overhead, the Arizona sun beat down on them, and she plopped a wide-brimmed straw hat she'd bought in Cave Cove onto her head.

Resting her chin on her knees, she looked into the sky and sighed. "Who said you don't see heaven on earth?"

He eased himself closer. "I guess you like it here?"

"What's not to like?" She lay down on her back, letting the hat fall behind her head, and stared up at the sky. Wanting to see her perspective, he joined her. Their arms aligned and touched. Neither pulled away.

"It's enough to make me want to consider a geographical change," she murmured.

"Seriously?"

"No." She answered quickly. "But a person can dream, can't they?"

"Nothing wrong with that." As long as he could convince her to make those dreams a reality. To do that he had to understand what made her so skittish.

"So where are we, exactly?" she asked.

"A deserted stretch of land." Mackenzie land, but Mac didn't think she was ready to hear his secrets just yet. "It goes for miles in either direction."

Squinting into the bright glare of the sun, she shaded her eyes with her hands. "And that large hotel in the distance?" She rolled onto her side for a better view.

"A place called The Resort."

"You're kidding."

"No, why?"

Her shoulders rose and fell. "It's where I'll be going for my conference," she murmured in a voice he had to strain to hear. A voice that told him how much she disliked the prospect.

That pleased him. The location of her conference was another story. The jig was up. Mac had never been into absentee management, and she'd know within an hour of check-in that he owned the place.

He pondered the unexpected news in silence, deciding how to use her conference location to his advantage. At the very least, now he could set the stage and tell her in his own setting, on his own terms. Once he'd thought things through, he couldn't believe his luck.

When she walked out of The Hungry Bear, she wouldn't be leaving him after all. As owner, he had access to all the guest registration cards. He knew exactly where to find her, and he had no intention of letting her get away.

"The conference you mentioned. It's at The Resort?"

"Yes." She settled herself more comfortably on the heavy woven blanket and eased herself backward, until she snuggled into him.

Her small backside wedged against his stomach and groin. He swallowed a groan, suppressing desire in favor of the information he wanted her to reveal. He had a number of business conferences scheduled for later in the week and he tried to recount the possibilities.

"Let me guess," he said. "You're an insurance salesman."

Her throaty laugh rumbled against his chest. "Funny, Mac. You already know I'm a financial planner. I'm attending workshops on financial gain and risk management."

"I knew there was a brain in that gorgeous head. So are you meeting clients or superiors there?"

"Both. The mornings and afternoons are filled with seminars that'll help me make wiser and safer investments for my clients. Then I'll take some clients to lunch, and my… boss will take me and some of the firm's larger clients to dinner."

He smoothed her long strands of hair out of his face, then rested his chin on her shoulder. "So tell me. When you were a little girl, did you dream of being a financial planner?"

She laughed at the deliberate absurdity of the question. "I dreamed of being a ballerina, then when I turned out to be uncoordinated, I dreamed of being married. Love, a fairytale wedding and happily ever after."

"And the financial thing?"

"Came about when I realized a savvy woman doesn't rely on a man to support her. And because my college grades showed I had an uncanny ability with numbers. I invested some money my father had put in my name when I was young. I made a nice, tidy sum. Turns out I was good at taking risks, too."

He grinned, thinking how much they had in common. He'd taken a risk investing all the family money in turning the small bed-and-breakfast into a first-class resort and spa. He could have lost everything.

Samantha's biggest risk seemed to be letting herself get close to him. He glanced over. At least she'd begun to open up. Now that he knew he could surprise her at The Resort and tell her everything there, he'd bought himself more time.

His gut told him he had her heart, but he had yet to win her trust.

"So tell me. What are your dreams, Mac?"

"I didn't think you wanted to know."

"I've shared mine, so fair is fair. Besides, what are dreams but fantasies, and we've already shared those."

Had they ever. Just the memory made him hard. He wanted to be inside her again, but the timing was wrong. If he broke off their conversation now, he'd lose Samantha for good. "Okay."

He'd never shared his dreams with anyone before and found it hard to know where to begin. When he'd sold off acres of his father's land to expand the hotel, he'd also kept in mind a promise he'd made. "I'd like to build a house on a wide-open stretch of land," he told her. This land.

"I can see why."

His father had wanted surplus acres kept in the family for future generations of Mackenzies. Mac had complied with that request, and though his sister still owned her land, she couldn't live there now. As for Mac, there'd been no reason to build a house for one person, and lately he'd begun doubting he'd contribute to the continuation of the Mackenzie name. Then a bedraggled female had stumbled into a bar and given him cause to rethink his future.

"A large house?" she asked.

At least she was interested. "As big as you want," he said.

"Mmm. Ranch-style," she murmured obviously getting into the fantasy. "Children?"

"One or two." With black hair and violet eyes.

"Two. No, make that three. Being an only child is lonely. Two boys and maybe a girl running through a real home decorated in beige, white and cocoa brown."

"My favorite colors," he said, glad she couldn't see his grin.

"Stylish," she continued. "But comfortable enough to live in without feeling stifled. Like you'll break something if you let loose and feel free."

"Is that the kind of place you grew up in?" he asked.

She stiffened. As if his question shattered the fantasy and reminded her she'd gone too far.

"I…"

His hand stroked up and down her arm. "Keep going," he whispered.

"I… I grew up in a beautiful home, but the house was full of things meant to be viewed, not touched. My mother loved fine things, my father loved indulging her."

She laughed, but the sound was strained. "Let me rephrase that. He loved her. Period. There wasn't much room left for me."

His grip on her arm tightened, as if he could reassure her with a touch, or infuse her with the love she'd been lacking up until now. "I'm sure your parents loved you," he said. How could they not?

"Of course they did. But it was just leftover affection, like whatever they could spare when they weren't together."

He thought about his sister and the fun, the laughter and pranks they'd played on each other. He recalled his parents' frustration with their children, but he also recalled their love. Love that included their kids as well as each other.

"Their loss." He didn't know what else to say, but he intended to make sure she never felt as lonely and vulnerable again.

"I know that… now."

"And you really want three kids?" he asked lightly, beginning a rhythmic lulling motion of his hand, encouraging her to answer.

"Yes." She rolled and he expected her to move away. Instead, she turned so she was facing him and brought her body flush against his. Her hands rose to cup his cheeks. "Do we have to talk anymore?" she asked.

He'd pushed her far enough. If he'd needed a sign that she wasn't ready to hear his secret, she'd just provided it. She'd given him enough for one day.

"No. There's too many other things we can do."

"I like the sound of that," she murmured.

He locked their hands together and brought her fingers to his lips, kissing the ring he'd bought that first day. Such a simple ring for people with such complicated lives, he thought. But it was that simple twisted band that made Samantha happy.

He pondered the irony of finding a woman content with sentiment instead of show and wondered how she'd react when he told her he could afford much more than the small ring that had captured her heart.

He'd tell her. After the rest of the week had passed and once he was back on his own turf. A woman who desired the fundamental things in life would surely understand why he'd omitted mentioning his wealth before getting to know her first.

One thing he knew for certain. She cared more for him than anything he could buy her.

Rolling onto his back, he brought her with him, so her body fit tight against his. His erection settled between her thighs.

"Ever make love in the great outdoors?" Her eyes glittered in the afternoon sun.

He laughed. "Does a balcony count?"

She shook her head. "Afraid not."

"Then the answer is no."

"I could rectify that." She shifted so his erection sat poised for entry, the only barrier between them their clothes.

Her sensual moan shook his common sense, but he managed to swallow a groan of assent. She smelled like his Samantha, a scent that aroused him beyond reason. Her hands shook in his and he knew she felt the same. Her body, hot and wanting, ground against him. For a woman filled with embarrassment in the beginning, she'd grown comfortable around him fast.

His gut told him this maneuver was meant to dodge emotional intimacy. His body, near to bursting, asked him who the hell cared. From somewhere, and he had to dig pretty damn deep, he found a remnant of self-control. "It's tempting, but I have to say no."

"Because we don't have protection? There are other ways to enjoy ourselves."

Because no matter how much he wanted her, he refused to let her hide her feelings and emotions behind sex. Again. "There's something I'd rather do," he told her.

She raised an eyebrow in eager expectation. "And that is?"

"Hold you." With a jerk of his hips, he dislodged her from her perch and rolled so he could capture her in his arms again. She squealed her displeasure, but he ignored her protest. Grasping her slender hips, he pulled her against him, her back solid against his erection.

"At least I know you want me," she whispered.

"Wanting isn't the issue."

"What is?"

"Being with you in the time we have left." Silence greeted him. Well, what had he expected? An undying declaration of love? An admission that she didn't want to leave? The honesty they'd shared today had been enough of a start.

The sun beat overhead. A breeze that grew warmer by the hour blew around them, and a bird chirped in the distance. Bit by bit, her tense muscles slackened and relaxed.

"You make me happy, Mac." Easing herself onto her back but not out of his reach, she grasped his hand and held on tight.

The truth from her heart. As a gift, he'd accept it. He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. "I try."

She smiled and he raised her hand to his lips, kissing each of her knuckles in turn and then the ring that would bind them forever. Whether she knew it or not.