Heartstealer (Women of Character3 (8 page)

Up close, he was reminded of just
how tempting Jacie could be.

With one hand on her hip, she
challenged him, "I promise you I’m like no woman you’ve ever
known before."

"That’s a given,"
he said immediately, allowing himself a chuckle. She was a ball of fire with a
ready answer and a quick wit.

"We’re even then,"
she fired back. "I know I’ve never met anyone like you." She
spun away from him. "I do love the view," she said defiantly. "I
would love to just keep riding. I’ve always enjoyed camping out. It would
be magnificent to wake in the morning with a canopy of trees over your
head."

"Well, your lesson starts in
twenty minutes so we’d better get moving." Reluctantly, he walked
back toward the horses and grabbed the reins. He made himself mount and then
waited for her to do the same. She was right on one score, he’d never met
anyone like her. He wondered fleetingly what depths might be revealed once you
got to know Jacie.

"I appreciate you taking the
time to show me some of this area. Riding along the edge of the mountain and
seeing first-hand the valley below is exhilarating. I didn't even see a
trail."

He pointed ahead. "We’re
coming up behind the barns now." Some of the excitement left her face. He
wondered if she was sorry, as he was, that they were back already. The ride
felt as if it had ended too soon. Before he knew he was going to voice the
words, he heard himself say, "Maybe we could do this again."

Her reply came swiftly. "I'd
love to."

She rode ahead. He stared after
her, wondering what impulse had taken hold of him. Why was he setting himself
up like this, spending time with Jacie? He shouldn’t have opened his
mouth and offered to take her out again, but the urge to do so had been too
tempting.

He nudged his horse with his knee
and headed in the opposite direction. She’d better not expect a tour
every day, he thought grimly, or he’d be so far behind in chores
he’d never catch up. For a minute, he wondered if that would be so bad.

Later the following afternoon,
Jacie gathered her training material and equipment together. James had set up
all her necessary equipment for the training sessions in a small field, and
today was the last ground session before the actual jumps.

"Jacie, I have to tell you Leo
and I are really looking forward to this jump," MaryAnn stated. "It's
a great idea too that you’re taking pictures. None of our friends would
believe it otherwise."

"It'll be fun," Jacie
told them, glancing around at the group of six. "I want everyone to relax.
If you have any last minute questions I'm in cabin three, so feel free to come
and see me. Tomorrow morning the list will be posted in the lodge for the jump
times. We’ll be doing two jumps tomorrow." The participants overall
seemed eager but she knew from past experience that some would decline to jump.
She had laid the groundwork for a safe and enjoyable experience, but when it
came down to stepping out of the plane it was ultimately a personal choice. She
wondered what they would think if they knew of her own pre-jump jitters.

"Do you need any help carrying
this equipment?" Emma asked. Emma was a slim woman somewhere in her
mid-to-late thirties.

"Thanks, Emma, but someone
should be coming by any minute with a truck to cart this equipment back."
She watched the couples disperse toward the lodge, which wasn't far away. Emma
waved and then she and her husband walked along the dirt road, trailing behind
the group.

Jacie would be jumping with some of
the newcomers, offering assistance and calming fears. She had planned six to
eight jumps this week, which was more than her leg had had to contend with
since her accident. She recalled how difficult it had been the first few times
she had jumped after recuperating from her accident. She constantly battled the
fear that something would go wrong. If she gave in to the fear, she might stop
jumping altogether. She had jumped eleven years without any major incidents,
but her accident last year had almost crushed her confidence.

Hearing a motor, she looked across the
small field. A tractor with a low wagon behind it was making its way toward
her. As it drew closer, she recognized Sloan in the driver’s seat.
Leaving the machine idling, he jumped down and walked over to her.

"Hello, Jacie. James asked me
to pick up your equipment."

"Oh, okay. I thought James
would be by. I hope everything’s okay."

"His eight-year old had a bike
accident. My nephew's okay, but he's going to be taking it easy for a while.
I'll bring your gear back to the lodge, but I'm kind of running behind so I
have to get hay while I’m out here."

She had already begun to load her
equipment on the low wagon near the front. "It's no problem, I'll walk
back and help you unload this when you're through."

He picked up the last nylon bag and
slid it across the wooden planks of the wagon. "I can take care of this.
If you want a ride the hay won't take long." His glance settled on her
knee and the brace. "Is your leg bothering you?" He asked bluntly.
"You're wearing that brace again."

"No, but maybe I will ride
along." She sat on the wagon, stretching her legs out. "We've been
simulating jumps today, so I use the brace for support." Nonchalantly, as
if his presence didn't send little jags of excitement through her, she removed
her hair band and pushed her fingers through her hair.

Shifting so she could watch him
remount the tractor, curiosity got the better of her. "You know, Sloan, I
get the feeling you might be even more stubborn than me."

Without pausing he dropped into the
wide tractor seat. He twisted around in the seat to face her, a half smile
stretching his mouth. "It might be real interesting to find out."

Since he had spoken of his mother
she hadn’t been able to get it out of her thoughts. Looking at him now
there was nothing in the least vulnerable about him. Was it just the attraction
that made her want to dig deeper or the man himself? "You’re always
working, do you ever take time for fun?"

Sloan looked back at her in
surprise. "Of course."

"What do you do?" she
asked impulsively.

He had a guarded look on his face
now. "This and that," he said. "I have been known to go away on
vacation."

"Do you head for hotspots or
something totally different?"

"Something a little different.
I like camping out but I’ve also taken my mother to Ireland."

"Very interesting."

"What about you?"

"I’ll confess I have
been to Cancun and the Bahamas a few times. But," she added as he nodded
like it was the answer he expected, "I’ve also taken trips by myself
to Montana and the Rockies."

"Beautiful spaces," he
said. "Hang on now, I’m going to move ahead."

As the wagon lurched forward, he
raised his voice above the noise of the tractor. "This path used to be an
old logging road so it’s a bit rough."

She braced her hands against the
wooden bed. The dirt lane wound through a grove of tall silver maples.
"Why don't you use the truck to get hay?"

"This wagon is lower to the
ground and it's easier to load. You'll see, we're almost there."

The track curved down to an open
pasture lot with mountains on three sides. The late afternoon sun was heated,
yet along the mountaintops there hovered a faint blue haze.

As they drew closer to a row of
large round hay bales she saw another gray and red tractor. He stopped beside
the hay and climbed down from the tractor.

"How will you get the hay on
the wagon?" Curious, she looked at the five-foot high hay bales.

He walked around to her side of the
wagon, indicating the other tractor. "That has a special prong to pick up
the bales."

She took the hand he held out and
jumped off the wagon. He landed beside him, his breath warm on her cheek. She
stared at him curiously, those light eyes, very conscious of her breath coming
fast and her palms getting damp. She had the crazy urge to kiss him again. It
had been so nice the first time.

He gave a low groan and reached
forward with one hand to trace a fingertip down her nose. She took a half step
closer or maybe she just leaned forward. When her breasts touched his chest,
desire bit at her and she willingly abandoned herself to sense of touch and
smell.

His hand gently cupped the back of
her neck and he drew her close enough so she could see tiny flecks of dark blue
in his eyes. His features blurred as his lips touched the corner of her mouth,
then moved to pull at her lips. The contact was shocking, wonderful. She
allowed her tongue to reach out and touch the outline of his mouth. Pure
sensation rocked her. Her palms came to rest against his chest and all she
could do was feel as he pulled her closer. There was no time for rational
thinking. Being this close to him was an incredible sensory experience.

His drew back, his fingers splayed
along her upper arms. She could step away but she didn’t. Drawing a shaky
breath, she kept her glance locked with his. Her legs shook and how the
adrenaline raced!

His cool blue eyes seemed to see
through her, yet a tiny vein throbbed in his temple and she knew he
wasn’t as calm as he appeared.

"Talk about chemistry and
opposites attracting!" she blurted, unable to contain her tongue.

"That's probably all it
is," he said in a hard voice. "Opposites attracting. It happens. God
knows we're totally different."

She nodded quickly in agreement.
"A fluke. You're a good-looking guy, Sloan, a great kisser, it's only
natural we'd be attracted to each other. It doesn't mean anything more than
that."

He looked for a moment like he was
going to argue the point. Abruptly, he pulled her into him and dropped his
mouth to hers. It was over in five seconds or less, too quickly for Jacie.

Sloan stepped back and moved
quickly toward the other tractor. "Stand back from the wagon while I load
the hay," he said brusquely. "These bales weigh about eight hundred
pounds."

She shivered as clouds scuttled
across the sky, stealing the sun. She was really at a loss. She pulled her
sweat-dampened shirt away from her skin, yet his scent lingered in her
nostrils. She saw again his face coming close, felt the touch of those lips.
They had tasted slightly of licorice. She touched her lips and smiled. Licorice
of all things.

She sobered, thinking she was a
fool for being attracted to him, a fool to let him kiss her, no matter how good
it felt. She stiffened her shoulders, reminding herself of one important fact.
Her track record with men stunk. Hadn't she learned anything? In the past she
had always been optimistic, thinking maybe this time it would work out; but it
never had. Brad had stung her in the worst way. Could she risk going through
that kind of rejection again?

While she wrestled with her
thoughts, Sloan started the other tractor and moved forward to push the prong
into a bale. She stepped well away from the wagon. As he drew abreast of her he
looked at her for a brief, moment, and his blue eyes seared her with heat.

He tipped the bucket and the bale
dropped. The wagon's wheels squatted under the weight. He prodded at the hay
with the tractor bucket and the hay rolled over on its flat side. When he cut
the engine it suddenly seemed very quiet in the field.

She moved to sit on the flatbed.

"You'd better move up
here." He indicated a small seat behind him on the tractor.

She stared at the small space.
"It's a short ride. I'll ride back here."

"It's not safe, the bale could
shift." His voice brooked no refusal.

Surprised by his sudden sharpness,
she moved to the front of the wagon.

"Sit behind me. I don’t
want to take a chance. If the bale should move that heavy metal bar will
protect you," he said, his voice once more a normal, even tone.

Between her and the heat of his back
there was nothing. She wasn't sure which was more dangerous. Deriding her own
naiveté, she knew touching him was definitely more dangerous. "Will
it move?" she asked.

"It shouldn’t. Hang
on." The tractor lurched forward, bringing her shoulder into close contact
with his. She studied the back of his head. His hair was fine with a slight
wave, the dark strands against his collar. The trace of gold from the sun was a
natural look many women paid money to achieve. The back of his head narrowed
smoothly to a strong neck, then the width of his shoulders blocked her view.

Absorbed in her sensory
contemplation of Sloan, she didn't realize the tractor had stopped until his
head turned. They were a hair's breadth apart. She could feel his heat, see the
tiny fan of lines beside his eyes. She swallowed with difficulty, her mouth dry
as she felt again their kiss, recalled his scent. What did he expect of her?
What did she expect of him?

"Are you riding all the way
with me?" he asked huskily.

Yes! Watching the slight curve of
his lips, her mind screamed the answer.

"I'm going to the barn,"
he explained patiently. "Are you riding that far?"

She looked around and her eyes
widened. They were outside her cabin. Quickly, she stood up. "I'll help
you unload my things at the lodge."

"I'll have Donny take care of
that, if you don't mind him handling the gear."

"Oh―that would be
okay."

She put her feet over the side of
the tractor. "Will I see you later?"

"Sure. I'll be around."

As her feet touched the graveled
path, he said, "I guess I was right about you and Dandy."

"How so?" Surprised, she
hesitated.

"You're a good match. He's
half wild, too, sometimes unpredictable."

"Is that how you see me? I
jump out of planes but I also grew up with a loving, stable family. Does
letting you kiss me make me reckless and unpredictable?"