Always a McBride (12 page)

“Research,” he said, wincing at the lie that came easily to his tongue. “It's easier to write about something you've experienced first-hand.”

Guilt knotting in his gut, he half expected her to ask why he chose to write about something that obviously wasn't his thing, but she was more trusting than that. “Well, you've certainly had that so far, and the weekend has barely started. First a storm in the mountain, then Duke. I know the whole purpose of the trip was to check on Elizabeth's wolves, but I never really thought that we'd see one. It was so eerie the way he just appeared out of the mist that way, wasn't it?”

She had that look on her face, that same soft, pretty one that had been his undoing right after Duke had disappeared into the rain. He'd taken one look at her and
lost his head. And he was doing it again. He had to get out of there!

“Yeah,” he said gruffly. “Speaking of which, you were stargazing and I interrupted you. I'll let you get back to it—”

He turned back toward camp, but he'd only taken a step when she stopped him. “No! Wait!”

“P
hoebe, this isn't smart.”

“I know,” she said huskily. “Stay anyway. I want you to stargaze with me.”

He shouldn't. They both knew what would happen if he made the mistake of joining her on her sleeping bag, but she didn't care. Couldn't he feel how special the night was? The others may have been fifty yards away, but surrounded by the mountains and trees, with the moon and a sky full of stars above them, it felt like they were the only two people in the world. And there was nothing she wanted more than to spend the night with him.

Even in the dark, in the glow of the moonlight, she knew he had to see that in her eyes, but she didn't look away, didn't hide the need that had been building in her ever since he'd kissed her. And that shocked her. She'd never been so bold in her life! Especially with a man
who was so wrong for her. But from the moment they'd met, they had been dancing a slow, seductive dance around each other, making their way toward this moment in time. It was fate, karma, inevitable. Couldn't he feel it?

When he hesitated, she felt her heart sink. If he walked away, there was nothing she could do about it, but she refused to believe that he didn't want her. She'd been on the receiving end of his kisses. She'd seen the passion in his eyes when he looked at her. But she wouldn't ask him to stay again. She couldn't. She did have some pride, and she'd gone as far as she could.

His eyes locked with hers in the darkness, Taylor told himself that staying could be nothing but a mistake. It was late, he wasn't thinking clearly, and if he went anywhere near her, he wouldn't able to keep his hands to himself. If he had a lick of sense, he'd run, not walk, back to his tent.

He knew that, accepted it and took a step. But it wasn't away from her.

He'd lost his mind—it was the only explanation. But if this was madness, he couldn't regret it. Not now. Not when her hair caught the soft glow of the moonlight and she looked at him with a hesitancy that matched his own. She was as unsure as he, he realized, and just as confused by this need that sparked between them without rhyme or reason. And that only made him want her more.

Later, he never remembered closing the distance between them, but in the blink of an eye, he found himself standing at the edge of the sleeping bag she sat on. Holding out her hand to him, she smiled, and he felt a sigh of contentment ripple quietly through her. And
once again, he felt the need to run…because it seemed as though he'd been waiting his whole life to hear a woman do that when his hand closed around hers.

Before he could even think about running, however, she tugged gently at his hand, pulling him down to her. “Lie down with me,” she said huskily. “It's the only way to really see the stars.”

He could no more have resisted her than Elizabeth's wolves could resist the call of the wild. Without a word, he sank down to his knees beside her and drew her down with him to the sleeping bag. A heartbeat later, he was flat on his back, staring up at the star-studded sky, lying shoulder to shoulder with her, their heads just inches apart as she pointed out to him the constellations in the vast sea of stars above them.

“There's the Big Dipper,” she said huskily. “See it? It's beautiful! And so close! It looks as if you could just reach out and touch it.”

Shifting slightly to follow the direction of her pointing finger, Taylor's head came to rest against the cloud of her hair, and his senses scrambled. He couldn't have seen the Big Dipper if it had been ten feet in front of his face. Between one heartbeat and the next, the elusive scent of ginger and peach and something that was uniquely her filled his lungs, teasing him, intoxicating him, heating his blood.

His heart pounding, he rasped, “Where's Orion?”

“There,” she said softly, and turned to point to the constellation that was low in the night sky to the west of where they lay. In the time it took to blink, they lay face-to-face on the sleeping bag, so close they could see the anticipation reflected in each other's eyes.

Lying perfectly still, her breath catching in her lungs,
Phoebe wanted him so badly, she ached. How long had she wanted him? Days? Weeks? Years before she'd even met him? She didn't know how or why, but it seemed as though the knowledge of him had somehow always been there. She only had to look into his eyes to know that he was the one she had dreamed of all her life.

She could fall in love with him.

The knowledge whispered through the deep, dark corners of her soul and should have scared the hell out of her. He didn't live in her world—when he left and returned to California, she didn't want him to take her heart with him. But when he was this close, she couldn't think, couldn't guard her heart. She wanted him too badly. He reached for her, and the future seemed a long way away. There was only now…and Taylor. With a sigh that was his name, she melted into his arms.

“We shouldn't do this,” he murmured, echoing her thoughts, then covered her mouth with his.

Stardust. His kiss tasted like stardust and magic and every dream she'd ever dreamed. The camp—and the others—were fifty yards away and asleep in their tents. They might as well have been on the other side of the moon. He gently wooed her, seducing her in a way no man ever had, and made her feel as if she was the only woman on earth.

Her head spinning and her heart pounding, she clung to him and kissed him wildly. “Don't stop. Please…”

“I'm not going anywhere without you,” he rasped. “Let me make love to you.”

She couldn't refuse him, not when she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He kissed her again and again, long, drugging kisses that stole her breath and
heated her blood and made her ache. Their clothes melted away and their hands were free to touch, to stroke, to linger.

He was driving her crazy. Bare skin rubbed against bare skin, and nothing had ever felt so good. She wanted the night to go on forever, but he knew just where to touch her to make her gasp, just where to kiss her to drive her over the edge. And she loved it.

“Taylor!”

It was the sound of his name on her lips that destroyed what was left of his unraveling control. She was so sweet, so giving! She held nothing back, kissing him, moving with him with a passion that drove him crazy. Need burned in his belly. On fire for her, he lost himself in her and only wanted more. A groan ripping from his throat, he rolled her under him and took the loving deeper.

High up in the heavens, the stars glowed softly, silently, in the night, but Taylor never noticed. Every breath, every touch, every thought was focused on Phoebe and the pleasure he took in her. Making love had never been like this before. When she came apart in his arms, he was the one who came undone.

 

Dawn was just a promise on the eastern horizon when they quietly made their way back to camp. Even then, Taylor didn't want to let Phoebe go, and that shook him to the core. He wasn't a man to linger after he'd made love to a woman. He'd never wanted to let anyone get that close to his emotions. But there was something about Phoebe….

He told himself it was just sex, but he'd never been very good at lying to himself. In the predawn light, she
was beautiful. Her hair was a mass of tossed curls, her mouth sweetly swollen from his kisses. When she hesitated outside her tent, her blue eyes lifting to his, he wanted to reach for her so badly, he could taste it. But if he touched her now, he knew he would never let her go.

So he kept his hands to himself and cursed the dawn. “The others will be up soon,” he said quietly.

No!
Phoebe wanted to cry. She wasn't ready for the night to end—or to walk away from the intimacy they'd shared. She needed him to hold her a little longer, to assure her that this wasn't the only night that they were going to have together. But no promises had been given, no words of affection or caring whispered in the night. Was need all he'd felt?

Afraid of the answer…and examining her own feelings too closely…she said huskily, “I guess I'd better go in, then. Good night.”

She ached to kiss him one last time, but she couldn't. So she turned and ducked into her tent, and never let him see the tears that suddenly welled in her eyes. Even though his own tent was only steps away, she'd never felt so lonely in her life.

And that horrified her. What was wrong with her? She'd known when she made love with him that she was taking a risk. After all, when two people were that intimate, there was no way to remain emotionally distant. But she'd thought she could handle her feelings, thought she could enjoy the experience and still walk away with her heart intact. She'd been wrong.

Stunned, she sank down onto her sleeping bag and called herself seven kinds of a fool. She had to be losing her mind. Taylor wasn't the kind of man she could let
herself care for. Aside from the fact that he was a writer, she knew next to nothing about him…except that he was everything she wasn't. Driven, reserved, a loner. When the time came for him to leave, he would do so without a backward glance.

The thought left her shaken, and that's when she realized she couldn't touch him again. She didn't care how good a kisser he was or how he could melt her bones just by taking her into his arms, she couldn't afford to go anywhere near him again. He was just too dangerous to her peace of mind. Not that she'd be able to avoid him completely, she assured herself. After all, he was a guest. She'd be friendly, but no friendlier than she would be with any other guest. Then when he left, he wouldn't take her heart with him.

She should have been relieved that she'd come up with a plan. But when she lay down on her sleeping bag to wait for the others to wake up, she might as well have saved herself the effort. Taylor was all she could think of.

 

“Hey, are you okay?” Elizabeth asked with a worried frown as they saddled their horses and prepared to ride further into the canyon to look for the rest of her wolves. “You didn't say two words during breakfast. Is something wrong?”

All too aware of the fact that Taylor was well within hearing distance and had been watching her all morning with those dark, probing eyes of his, Phoebe forced a smile. “Will I sound like a city slicker if I admit that I'm a little stiff this morning? It's been a while since I've ridden this much.”

Relieved, Elizabeth chuckled. “Ah, so that's it. A
little saddle sore, are we? Thank God! I thought I was the only one.”

“But you and Zeke come up here all the time and go camping, don't you?” Phoebe said with a frown, surprised.

“We did—before we had the kids,” Elizabeth admitted ruefully. “It's not so easy once you've got a four-year-old and a toddler. We'll have to wait until they're a little older before they can make the trip.”

Seeing her wistful smile, Phoebe said, “You miss it, don't you? Being alone together up here?”

Elizabeth didn't deny it. “It was wonderful. Sometimes we stayed for weeks at a time.”

Phoebe could well understand why. Last night, lying in Taylor's arms and making love under the stars had been the most romantic evening of her life. If they'd been newlyweds, she would have wanted to stay there forever.

Memories from last night tugged at her heart, and for a moment, she could almost feel the tenderness of his touch, taste the hunger of his kiss. Without even looking, she knew where he was at all times. She'd developed a sixth sense where he was concerned, and when she glanced over to where the men were saddling their own horses, she wasn't surprised to find Taylor watching her. They'd been aware of each other's every move all morning, and it was driving her crazy. Even though she'd resigned herself to the fact that she had to keep her distance, her body still ached for him. Given the least amount of encouragement, she would have walked into his arms.

He, however, was as reserved as she and not the kind to make any kind of overture to her in front of the
others. She should have been thankful. Wasn't that what she wanted? Some time and space to get her head on straight? He wasn't pushing her for anything more than they'd already shared or she was prepared to give. Why did that make her so unhappy? What was wrong with her?

Confused, in desperate need of some time to herself to think, she would have liked nothing more than to head back home right then and there, but Elizabeth still needed to check on the rest of the wolves. So when Zeke gave the signal, she climbed onto her horse, then fell in line with the others. She was thankful that the terrain grew rougher as they climbed higher into the mountains, and she couldn't afford to be distracted by thoughts of Taylor. All her concentration was focused on following Zeke and making sure her horse didn't take a misstep and send them both tumbling down the side of the mountain.

It was Zeke who first spotted the wolf standing silently in a thick stand of pines, watching them with intelligent gray eyes that missed little. Without a word, Zeke pulled up. “Up in the trees to the right,” he murmured to Elizabeth when she brought her mount to a stop alongside his. “It looks like Queenie.”

“No, it's Duchess,” she said softly. “We didn't see her last time. I was afraid something had happened to her.” Looking past the watchful female, she suddenly grinned broadly. “Look! She's got pups!”

The young gray wolf did, indeed, have two pups with her, but they were far more cautious than she. Blending into the shadows and half hidden under the underbrush, they lay on their bellies near their mother and didn't so
much as blink as they watched the riders a hundred yards down the mountain from them.

“That's Queenie and Napoleon's granddaughter,” she explained to Phoebe and Taylor. “Isn't she beautiful?”

“Where's her mate?” Taylor asked quietly. “Wolves mate for life, don't they?”

Smiling, she nodded. “He's somewhere nearby. He'll show himself when he's ready.”