A Royal Mess and Her Knight To Remember (10 page)

Now Natalia sat on the porch swing watching Tim feed his menagerie of pity pets by moonlight. He'd had a long, long day, and still he didn't stop, not until everyone and everything was taken care of. She knew he had to be tired. Misty, the horse, kept drooling on him while Pickles knocked him flat trying to get to his food. And Mrs. Pig…she stood at Tim's feet and put up a fuss, bouncing as high as she could on her three good legs, looking like a Mexican jumping bean.

Natalia couldn't figure out what the thing wanted until Tim scooped her up and held her like a puppy, stroking her belly.

In ecstasy, the pig's head rolled back.

Propelled by a force she didn't try to fight, Natalia got off the swing and walked to the gate. “You don't have to feed them,” she said.

Surprised at her voice, he looked up. Then smiled a smile that warmed her. “I'm late. They're starving.”

“No.” She shrugged, embarrassed to have been caught in a chore that had been pure pleasure. “They looked hungry, so…”

He put down Mrs. Pig, who promptly started wailing at his feet. “So…you what, Princess?”

Oh, wasn't he ever so smug. “I go by Your Serene Highness, thank you very much.”

His grin widened, and damn him but he looked good enough to eat. “You're changing the subject. What did you do with the animals?”

“You know what I did. I fed them. I admit it, I feed them when you're not looking.”

He picked Mrs. Pig back up, who immediately stopped her ruckus. “Why?”

“Because they're there, okay? Because I've…”
Lost my fear. Somehow. I've become attached.

God, it was going to hurt to leave. Maybe she should rethink these extra few days and hightail it out of here right now. Right this minute, in fact. She had enough for her bus fare. But she'd given up on that idea from the moment she decided to forgo the wedding in order to have this adventure.

She should still leave. All she had to do was pick up the cell phone and call Amelia, and she'd be out of here within the hour.

But she was afraid of the strange, and oddly new, tugging on the strings of her heart.

Texas—the huge, wide-open place—had grown on her. So had the people, and the wonderful ranch hands who were so hardened on the outside, but sweet as kittens on the inside. Even Sally, the tough female cowboy she'd never forget.

But most of all it was Timothy Banning; also rough and tough, and able, and…staring at her with a heat in his eyes and a three-legged pig in his arms.

“W
HAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT
?”
Natalia whispered by moonlight, her eyes large and luminescent.

“You,” Tim said, and once again set down Mrs. Pig.

When he straightened, Natalia took a step back.

It made him smile grimly, for he knew exactly how she felt. She didn't want to feel anything for him any more than he wanted to feel something for her. But it didn't seem to matter. They'd tried to ignore it, but this…this
thing
was far bigger than that.

“Stop it,” she said. Since it was dark all he could go by was the tone of her voice, which was saying “back off” loud and clear.

But he knew her now, or at least he wanted to think he did. She was scared, and he of all people understood that, too. He'd never really felt this way about a woman, had never worried about getting her out of his system. The women in his life had always washed
him
out of their systems first.

Natalia didn't seem eager to wash him out of her system.

It was incredibly arousing.
She
was arousing.

“You're still staring,” she pointed out.

“Yeah.” He smiled. “You're so beautiful. I know that's not very original, and you've—” He started to say she'd probably heard it a thousand times before, but suddenly her eyes misted, threatened to spill over. “Natalia?”

“No.” Clearly embarrassed, she stepped back, not anticipating Pickles, who'd come up directly behind her. Her foot came down on the blind goat's front hoof, startling the thing into a noisy riot.

The other animals pitched in, as well.

“Oh!” Natalia turned, held her hands out. “I'm sorry.” Awkwardly she stroked the goat, trying to reassure it, and also, face averted, swiping at a few tears glistening on her cheek.

“Hush, Pickles,” Tim said, stepping around the animal who didn't hush at all. He took Natalia's shoulders in his hands. “Talk to me.”

“Your horse is frisking you.”

Misty was indeed attempting to get into his back pocket with her soft mouth. He batted at her, but couldn't have made himself heard over the amazing decibel level Mrs. Pig and Pickles had created. “Come on, we're out of here.”

She had her hands over her ears. “What?”

“I said—Oh, for Pete's sake.” Grabbing her hand, he led her out of the pen. Instead of heading back toward the house, he took her on the path toward the barns, only he didn't turn in there, either. He led her behind them, to a slight rise, where they could sit on a grassy knoll in peace and relative quiet, and look over his land.

It was inky dark, but the moon, hung in the sky like a glowing beacon, lit the way. So did the stars, so many they were nearly on top of each other. And as they sat, their shoulders and arms brushing, he slid his arm around her waist and drew her slightly resisting body a little closer. “Better.” He cupped her face and looked into her troubled eyes. “Tell me. Do you want to leave now? Is that it? Do you miss home? Is my sister being a pain again? What?”

“You…really think I'm beautiful.”

Her nose was running, her eyes red. Her hair was loose about her face, framing it. She had a streak of dirt on her jaw, probably from one of his animals, the ones she said she didn't like, but fed at every opportunity. His chest tightened. “You
are
beautiful.”

“You mean me, as a woman.”

“Yes.” Who did she think he meant? “Surely you've heard that about yourself before.”

“Only as a princess, and then, not so often really.”
She sent him a watery smile. “But never as a woman.”

He'd nearly forgotten the princess thing. Had nearly convinced himself she'd forgotten, too.

“It's why I did this,” she said. “Why I wanted to come here. I wanted to see what it was like to be an independent woman. Nothing more, nothing less, and…” Her voice hitched a little. “I have to tell you, Tim, I've never had such a great time.”

He thought of how hard she'd worked, of how much crap she'd taken from Sally. Of how she obviously had never lived in a world like this before, and yet she'd done it anyway, even after she'd earned enough to go where she wanted to go. “I figured by now you'd be running for the highway. This isn't an easy life.”

“No. But it's lovely. Here nothing matters, not what I look like or what I've done to stir up the press, nothing. It's…real.” From somewhere behind them a cow let out a long cry. An answering cry came, then another.

And then the distant squeal of Mrs. Pig, which made them both laugh a little.

“Real,”
Tim repeated with a shake of his head, relieved to see the smile on her face. “This life is definitely that, Natalia. For what it's worth, I don't care how you dress, either, or what you've done.”

Her eyes misted again. “I know. But I'm leaving tomorrow, Tim.” She took a shaky breath. “I have to. I want you to know, though, I'll miss this. And you.”

He wasn't sure how it happened, but one moment he was staring down into her face at her lovely mouth, parted slightly, and the next moment he'd put his right over it. Just a little kiss. Just a comfort kiss. A you're-not-alone kiss.

A goodbye kiss.

Only she made the sexiest little sound from deep in her throat. Grabbed his hair in her fists and held him close.

What could he do but keep kissing her? He couldn't pull away, not when she threatened to pull the very hair from his head.

Her tongue against his ignited all the heat he'd been attempting to hold back. She made it impossible to remember he wasn't going to do this, wasn't going to take advantage of her in any way—

But she made that sound again, and pressed closer so she practically sat in his lap, her breasts against his chest, her nipples drilling holes into his skin.

Then she was in his lap, her bottom pressing against the part of him begging for more. His hands moved to her hips, gripping, shifting her back and
forth over his hard-on until his eyes were crossed with lust.

And again she made that rough sound, the one that assured him she was feeling as needy as he.

Good. That was good.

No, wait. It was bad, very bad. One of them had to be in control, one of them had to be able to pull away.

But, God, it wasn't him.

With a little whimper, she plastered herself against him, rotating her hips back and forth in a telltale sign that made him groan. Apparently, it wasn't going to be her in control, either. “Natalia,” he said thickly, trying to pull back. “We need to stop.”

She tightened her grip on his hair, angled her face the other way and kept kissing him. She also did something pretty amazing with her tongue and his body jerked, getting aroused to the point of pain from just a kiss.

Just a kiss. What a joke. This was no “just a kiss.” They were practically sucking the air right out of each others' lungs, letting out dark sounds into the night that were earthy and needy and arousing all in itself.

“Natalia,” he said again. Valiantly.

But then she twisted, straddling him. Which meant that her thighs were open, her legs around his waist,
the hottest, most neediest part of her was rubbing against the hottest, most neediest part of him.

“I wish I was wearing my skirt,” she said, coming up for air. “Because then I could just lift it and…”

Just the image made him tremble. “Natalia, we need to get a grip.” He had a grip, two luscious handfuls of her perfectly rounded butt, but that's not what he meant. “This is getting out of control.”

“I want to take this with me, this memory of you and me. What's so wrong about that?”

“Because it's not enough, not for you. One night isn't enough.”

“It is.”

“It shouldn't be.”

“Here, in this miraculous place, with you, I'm a woman, and I want to feel like one.” Her eyes were wide and dark on his. “Please.” Then she rocked against him until he could hardly remember why he resisted. “There's no one else who makes me feel this way.”

Which pretty much made him feel like a superhero. “Be sure, Natalia. Be sure.”

Lifting his hand from her hip, she placed it over her breast. “I am.”

His heart nearly stopped. Beneath his fingers, her nipple was a hard, pouting point, and when he stroked it, he elicited a sweet little whimper from Natalia. His
other hand got into the game, too, so that both were filled with her. She sighed and pressed against him some more, her head tossed back a little so that her throat was exposed right at mouth level.

He couldn't help but lean forward and nibble at it.

She gasped and rocked to him. “You have no idea how good that feels.”

Tim felt good, too. And in spite of the very sexual nature of the moment, he felt a rightness of it all that came from his heart, not the hard-on currently making sitting a challenge.

Then Natalia reached down and pulled off her T-shirt.

If he'd thought his heart had stopped before, he was sorely mistaken. Her breasts were barely contained in a white, lacy little demibra with a front hook, her nipples dark and thrusting against the material.

She reached for his shirt, too. “Lift,” she demanded, and when he obliged, lifting his arms, she tossed his shirt over her head and slid herself against him. “I've always wanted to be like this, skin to skin with a man.” With a frown, she suddenly sat straight up, unhooked her bra and tossed that over her shoulder as well. He caught a quick glimpse of the most beautiful breasts he'd ever seen before she plastered herself back against him with a heartfelt sigh.
“There.” Her breasts were pressed to his chest. “Yes, there. Much better. Yes?”

If he so much as moved, he was going to actually come in his pants. A fact he'd so far managed to avoid all his life, even during high school horn-dog make-out sessions.

“Tim?” She lifted her head, which sent her hair sliding over his jaw. With each breath she took, her breasts lifted, which meant her nipples tantalized and teased his bare flesh, as well.

She was driving him crazy, and he gripped her hips. “Hold still.”

Against his fingers she managed to still move, managed to arch and writhe, and he let out a rough groan.

“Natalia…Wait.”

She froze, then removed her hands from his hair and put them over her breasts. “I'm sorry.”

“What? No, I—”

“I pressed myself on you. Again. It's just…inexcusable, really.”

She made to move off him, but he grabbed her, rolling her beneath him so that she was flat on her back in the grass with him sprawled out over the top of her. Taking her hands off her breasts, which he wanted to see again, he pulled them over her head and held her still. “Don't move,” he said gruffly. “Or I'll be a goner. Do you understand? I'm saying you're
going to make me come right this second if you move another inch. Now I need to touch you, quite badly. Is that okay?”

She blinked. “I thought—”

“You thought wrong.”

She stared at him for one more long moment before slowly relaxing.

“There,” he whispered encouragingly, dipping his head to taste her jaw, her throat. “That's better.” He nipped her collarbone. “Much better.”

Natalia had to agree. Tilting her head back, eyes open to the dark, starry night, surrounded by nothing but wide-open space, she absorbed his weight and when he nibbled at her again, gasped.

“Where's the nipple ring?”

“I don't have one. I'm…too chicken.”

He lifted his head. “Know what I think? That you're tough as tough can be on the outside, where you've needed to be, and yet soft as soft on the inside, where no one can see.” He smiled a very sexy smile. “But I can see, and I like it.”

He rocked against her, then rained hot, openmouthed kisses to her shoulder, down her arm and yes, finally, over her breast. She tried to remain cool, tried to act as if she'd done all of this before, but when his tongue swirled over her nipple, she jerked and nearly sobbed out loud. She couldn't help it, she
was burning up, from the inside out, and couldn't stay still. Her hips rocked, her heart pounded, the blood roared in her ears, and she thought she would die if he didn't hurry up and touch her everywhere.

“Mmm. You like what I'm doing.” He kissed and tasted and sucked his way to her other breast. “Don't you?”

This time she did sob out loud and nearly bucked him off her in her haste to get more.

He let out a low chuckle as he took that talented mouth back to her first breast.

She amused him. While she was on her deathbed, dying from this…this unbearable, shockingly consuming need, she amused him. “Don't stop,” she demanded, shameless, and she didn't care.
“Don't you dare stop.”
She fought with his hands to get hers loose, and when he let go, she gripped him by the ears and held his head to her breast. Who would have thought sex would feel so amazingly good? She'd have tried it long ago if she'd had any clue, any clue at all.

But while she was wild, he was…not. Somehow he'd regained control, and was just fine while he nearly drove her out of her mind. Unacceptable, really. She'd let go completely, and he would, too. Together. She ran her hands down his sleek, strong and oh-so-delicious-feeling back. He was amazing, no
doubt, but she was getting sidetracked. Determined to make him as out of control as she, she danced her hands down farther, to his very nice bottom, and squeezed.

Obliging, he thrust against her. Oh, yes, that was very nice, and before she could help it, she'd spread her legs, further accommodating him. It made her whimper for more, but no. She was not going to lose it.

At least not until he did, not even if she had to calculate complicated math problems to keep her thoughts together. She worked her hands around his sides to the button on his jeans, which she popped open. “Off,” she demanded, tugging on the denim.