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Authors: Kathy Clark

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BOOK: ANOTHER SUNNY DAY
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She sighed in agreement, the power of speech somehow escaping her while she
lay in contented languor, his large body still half-covering hers. Stubbornly she refused to let the nagging voice of her conscience intrude on this perfect moment. Sooner or later Tyler would demand an explanation of her inexperience, and she would need all her wits about her to keep up the facade. She hoped he would have the sensitivity not to pursue the matter of her innocence at this moment, thus shattering the fragile bond they had just forged.

Although that was the subject that was foremost in his mind. Tyler wisely decided the time was not right for questions. Her innocence intrigued and excited him. His hunger for her was proving to be insatiable as he gloried in the softness of her hair against his cheek and her fresh, intoxicating fragrance, which filled his nostrils. His heartbeat had barely returned to its normal cadence and already he was feeling a renewed stirring of desire for her as she snuggled against him, one of her hands idly combing the dark curls on his chest. He moved, trying to straighten his cramped legs, but only succeeded in bumping his head against the armrest. "
Ow," he complained a pained look crossing his face in a boyishly appealing expression as he rubbed the point of contact with his hand.

"Poor baby," she cooed unsympathetically. "Well, so much for the sofa, Will you
agree to move to the bed now?"

"Only if you'll sh
are it with me," he bargained.

"I wouldn't want it any other way." Her long lashes low
ered seductively as she spoke.

"The lengths some women will go to
to prove their point," he pretended to grumble as he gathered her temptingly nude body up into his strong arms.

"Sometimes a woman has to make a few sacrifices to prove that she is right," she teased, locking her arms around his neck and pressing her f
ull breasts against his chest.

"
'Tis better to suffer and win than never to play at all," Tyler said gravely.

"Was that Emerson?" she guessed, a tiny frown creasing her forehead as she
tried to identity the quote.

"No, that was Tyler Ross." He laughed. "Let's go do a little more suffering on the bed." His demanding lips pressed hotly against her neck. "From now on that so
fa will be saved for company."

"Oh, no!" Sarah stiffened, almost twisting out of his grasp as she turned her head to peer into his face. "Poor Willie has probably frozen to death in the back of one of those drafty old wagons. Maybe you should go get him and insist that he spend the r
est of the night on the sofa."

Tyler was touched by the genuine concern in her voice. This woman was a strange mixture of contradictions that defied all his preconceived notions about her. "Don't worry about old Willie. He was feeling no pain when my men picked him up and took him to the motel with them.
Sometimes he can be as stubborn and ornery as that mule of his, so we had to wait until his resistance was too low for him to refuse us."

"That is obviously a tactic at which you are very proficient," she commented, nibbling the
sharp line of his collarbone.

Gently he lowered her to the bed, his own body following hers onto the roomy queen-size mattress. "So tell me,
darlin'," he asked, his voice a low, husky rumble against her breasts. "how low is your" resistance right now?"

"Too low to refuse you anything," she murmured against his lips as her body fit perfectly against his, a
nswering his throbbing desire.

The unwelcome blare of Reveille roused them from their slumber. It hadn't been very long since they had fallen into an exhausted sleep, still wrapped in each other's arms. Sarah stretched lazily, unaware of the sensual appeal of her sleek creamy body and golden mane of hair. With a low moan of renewed hunger for a taste of her luscious assets, Tyler tightened his hold on her and began to devour her sl
eepy swollen lips.

Their lovemaking was leisurely but thorough, sending them soaring together through the mist of mutual fulfillment. Sarah had never realized how empty and one-dimensional her life had been before she met Tyler. She loved his warmth, his humor, and his tenderness, not to mention that be looked pretty d
amn good in or out of a towel.

If she could be sure that he wouldn't reject her as he had his fiancée, she would tell him everything. But it had taken her so long to get him to trust her that she had no doubt that her admission would bring all his anger and disgust flooding back with such force that it would kill whatever budding feelings he might have for her. It was clear that he placed a great deal of value on honesty. It was equally clear to her that there was only one course which, although painful, would provide her with the first totally selfish happiness she had had since childhood. If she wanted Tyler at all, then she must accept the situation as it was and make the most of it because the memories migh
t have to last her a lifetime.

"A dollar for your thoughts," Tyler said softly while his fingertips continued to lightly trace the angle
and curves of her lovely face.

Sarah forced aside her melancholy thoughts as she spoke. "A dollar? Whatever happened to a penny?" Her large aquamarine eyes sparkled as sh
e gazed at him affectionately.

"Inflation." He chuckled. "Now tell
me what made you look so sad."

"Oh, I was just thinking how strange it will be to rejoin the real world next week. It's too bad we couldn't stay here forever, pretending that nothing outside these walls existed," she mused. "If it hadn't been for that sadist with his recording of Reveille this morning, we could have made believe that we were the only survivo
rs in a frozen world."

"And our duty was to repopulate the earth." He perked up, intrigued at the prospect. "But that would mean that all our friends would be
frozen like human Popsicles."

"And
momsicles." She giggled.

"And
horsesicles," he added, then affectionately crushed her against his broad chest while, gales of silly laughter shook their bodies. As they quieted they became aware of silence outside the trailer. Apparently last night's storm had passed, taking with it the unwelcome rain and chilling winds and forcing an unwanted break in their temporary isolation.

"Unfortunately"—Tyler struggled to be sensible—"the other riders are going to be returning soon, and I'm not good at making up explanations about why I went into your camper last night and didn't come out again until breakfast. Lying never has been one of my strong suits. I believe it's always better not to get myself into a situation that would force me to be dishonest. Besides I really should go
check on Jed and the horses."

Sarah stretched again, her back arched and her breasts pointing provocatively toward the ceiling. "If you must go, I guess there's no way I can stop you," she teased with a flut
ter of her long, thick lashes.

"Oh, God," he said with a groan. "Don't do that to me." Playfully he gently bit one of her taut pink nipples. "If there weren't so many eyes focused on your every move, I wouldn't care if we didn't leave this camper until spring. But since I'm the responsible person that I am, I'm going to take a
raincheck on ravaging your irresistible body until a more inconspicuous time."

"That was a very impressive speech," said tauntingly, a smile curving her full lips. "I think I'll just spend the whole day in bed, keeping it nice and warm and praying for rain."

Giving her a loud but painless slap on her well rounded behind, he ordered, "Get your buns out of bed," a wide white smile softening his blow. "I'm going to take another shower. You could join me, and with a little imagination we could pretend it was rain."

"Ha!" She pushed him out of bed "That shower is too small for one person, let alone a revi
val of
Singing in the Rain
."

"I'll make sure my next camper has a huge bathroom," he grumbled good-naturedly as he rolled athletically to his feet. "But you can't stay here all day. Just thinking about you lying on this bed, so beautiful and desirable . . . Well, I wouldn't be able to stop drooling long enough to ca
rry on a decent conversation."

"I certainly wouldn't want to have that on my conscience." She laughed merrily. "Okay, I'll get up, but you had better leave me some hot water so I can take a
shower before I get dressed."

"Only if I can watch."

"You're insatiable, cowboy!" she taunted with pretended exasperation.

"Last night I was a male chauvinist and now I'm insatiable. It's difficult to say whether or not that's an improvement." His dark head was cocked to one side as he pre
tended to ponder the question.

"I wasn't complaining." She tossed her golden tresses saucily and slapped him soundly on his bare bottom as h
e stepped toward the bathroom.

Later, when he walked out of the bedroom, the mouthwatering smell of cooking food made his hungry stomach growl enthusiastically. But her slim body hardy disguised beneath the clinging gossamer robe hardly completed a typical domestic scene. Even the towel tied around her small waist as a makeshift apron did little to hide her charms. Her hair swirled loosely around her shoulders, rippling as she moved like a waterfall turned golden under the Midas touch of the morning sun that sneaked between the cracks of the pulled c
urtains at the kitchen window.

His indrawn breath whistled through his clenched teeth as the thought slipped through his mind of how nice it would be if it were possible for every morning to be just like this one. But he knew better than to pretend that he could compete with the excitement and personal gratification that the constant travel and adoration gave Sunny. She had said on
Good Morning Houston that entertaining was vital to her existence. Not only would it not be fair of him to ask her to consider giving it up for him, but he would never feel sure that she wasn't having second thoughts and resenting his interference in her life. Tyler knew from experience that if a woman was truly set on having a successful career, she would let nothing and no one get in her way. There was no way he was going to let another career woman tear his life apart again.

Nonetheless, as hard as he had struggled against becoming involved with this woman, it had happened. Yet how could he possibly regret even one moment he had spent with this surprisingly passionate and interesting female? He knew it was more than just sexual satisfaction that made him want to lock the door against any intrusions from the outside world. But it would be wrong to cage a beautiful songbird, not allowing it to fly
or sing as it was born to do.

Today was Thursday, and the parade was Saturday morning. That left only two more days and two more nights to enjoy her company. He was a man of pride and passion, not usually so willing to accept whatever favors a woman chose to bestow upon him, but this wo
man was special—one of a kind.

"What are you staring at?" Sarah asked over her shoulder. "Haven't you ever seen anyone cooking breakfast before? Don't just stand in the doorway. Come on in and sit down so you can eat
while everything's still hot."

"It's just that there is not the remotest resemblance between you and Jed, even though I've watched him cook a hundred meals," Tyler said, recovering his poise
and sitting down at the table.

"I'm going to have to thank Jed for stocking the refrigerator so well. It may not be gourmet, but it should hold you until lunch." With a flourish she set a plate of biscuits and a still sizzling pan of sausage on the table next t
o the butter and orange juice.

"It looks good, "he commented, a little
doubtful as he helped himself.

"Don't look so skeptical" She grinned. "Anyone can fry saus
age and bake whopum biscuits."

"
Whopum biscuits?"

"Sure. You just take the can out of the refrigerator, peel the paper off, and whop um aga
inst the edge of the counter."

"You suckered me into another one." His deep chuckle pleased her. "I guess this is fres
h-squeezed orange juice too."

"It is if it counts that I squeezed the can while I was
pouring it into the pitcher."

His laughing gray eyes met hers appreciatively. "Well, Sunny Day, is
there no end to your talents?"

For some illogical reason hearing
him call her by Sunny's name hurt like a physical blow. She longed to shout, "My name is Sarah, not Sunny, and I love you as I've never loved anyone before," but duty made her swallow those words.

Instead she murmured, "I'm sure you don't have enough time right now for me to list them all." Her attempted joke fell flat, but he didn't notice as he remembered he still had to slip out of h
er trailer without being seen.

"You're right, I do need to hurry. Thanks,
darlin', for a good breakfast," he said as he picked up the last two biscuits and sliced them in half before putting pieces of sausage between the halves to make tiny sandwiches. After pulling on his heavy coat and dry but stiffened boots, he leaned down for one last kiss. "And thanks for the best night of my life," he whispered as he tenderly stroked her cheek with his work-roughened palm.

BOOK: ANOTHER SUNNY DAY
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