To Love a Wilde (7 page)

With his other hand, his fingers dug deeper into her scalp, pressing her sweet mouth closer against his, eating
her soft cries as he made his sensual assault against her mouth.

He was on fire for her. What had started out as a simple need to taste her, to find out if her lips were as soft as they looked, had escalated into a blazing need that was beginning to consume him.

And damned if he didn’t want to get devoured in the blaze.

“God, you taste good, Yas.” His voice was a raspy, sexy growl of need rumbling against the corner of her mouth. His hand was shaky as he caressed the generous mound he held cupped in his hand. “So damn good,” he growled harshly, recapturing her mouth, dragging the upper swell deep inside his mouth before releasing it.

Yasmine’s body went weak.

“So do you, Holt,” she softly moaned. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded foreign, thready with the need that was running so high she could barely speak.

When his tongue snaked out and trailed a hot, scorching path from the corner of her mouth to the lobe of her ear, she arched her back, pressing herself into his hardness, her body on fire with need. Had he not held her so close, so tight against his body, she would have tumbled straight onto the floor.

“Touch me,” he rasped. He yanked at several of his buttons, ripping his shirt open before taking one of her hands from where it rested around his neck and placing it over his hard chest.

She closed her eyes, her breath coming out in strangled gasps.

Hesitantly at first, she feathered her hand over his chest. Daringly, she fingered one of his small male nipples, watching in fascination as it beaded against her fingers.

When she heard him groan, she glanced up at him. The gleam from the moon lit the shed, casting his handsome face in a sensual, harsh glow. He brought her fingers up to his mouth, opening her palm and placing a kiss in the center.

When he opened his eyes and looked down at her, the look of lust and need stamped harshly on his handsome face, she drew in a deep breath.

“I need you.”

With that, Yasmine’s heart, already beating out of control, nearly leaped from her chest.

She stared at him, reading the lust, the need and desire blazing from his bright blue gaze.

God, she’d wanted this man for her entire life, it seemed. For him to ask her … beg her, to make love to her, was something straight out of one of her fantasies.

She placed her hand over his cheek, feeling the stubble roughly caress her palm.

“Holt, I—”

“Holt, I know you’re in here, come out, come out, wherever you are,” a singsong voice called out,
interrupting Yasmine before she could continue.

“A
ll settled in, sweetheart?”

Yasmine yawned hugely as she entered the kitchen, glancing over at her aunt. She could only see the back of her head, as her back was to Yasmine, her aunt’s arm reaching overhead in the process of removing a pot from its position hanging above the stove.

“I still have to unpack, but I’ll save that for later,” she said, before looking around the large, open kitchen, the blinds opened, allowing the sun to flood the airy room.

She’d always loved this kitchen, and it was the one room in the house that had remained nearly untouched, looking much as it had when she’d called the ranch home.

The kitchen had been updated with modern
conveniences, yet it maintained an old-world charm. White slatted blinds covered each of the six large windows that gave the room its natural light. Terra-cotta tiles on the floor and white wood cabinets gave the room a homey ambience.

She grimaced. The minute she yawned, the pounding in her head increased tenfold.

Not only did she have a headache the size of the Teton Mountains, her eyes had been so swollen she’d barely been able to pry them open that morning, her mouth was dry as sandpaper … and she was in
desperate
need of mass quantities of caffeine.

“Got any coffee, Aunt Lilly?” she asked, shuffling toward one of the high-backed stools surrounding the marble counter.

Lord only knew if she could open a vein and directly infuse caffeine into her system she would. Right now she’d do just about anything to stop the little man in her head from his relentless drumming.

God, what a night.

Piggybacking that thought, images of her and Holt, what they done … what they’d
almost
done, flooded her mind, and she covered her eyes with her hands, as though that would make the images disappear from her mind.

She’d been moments away from giving in to something she’d fantasized about for over ten years. She’d been moments away from giving in to what his eyes, his mouth … his very touch promised he wanted to deliver. And had they not been interrupted she would
have done just that. Given in to everything his carnal gaze was promising and more.

After leaving the shed last night, Yasmine had fled back to the house and found her aunt, telling her she was tired from the day’s travel and was ready to go to bed. It had taken a fair amount of willpower not to rush to her room in order to avoid Lilly, fearing she’d read in her eyes her embarrassment and guess who was the reason.

When her aunt had seemed oblivious to her state of turmoil, Yasmine had sighed in relief, and after bidding a quick goodbye to as many people as she could, she’d been seconds away from fleeing to the sanctity of her room when her aunt’s voice stopped her.

“Before you go, Yasmine, did something … or someone, upset you?” Lilly had asked bluntly, a frown marring her otherwise unlined face.

She caught Lilly looking around, and when her eyes narrowed, Yasmine had turned in the direction she was staring and saw Holt walking through the front door, his eyes scanning the crowd.

“Oh, God, no! I mean, it’s nothing, Auntie. Nothing happened,” she said, desperate to get away. “We, uh, talked, that’s all. Really, it’s nothing. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day, and I still haven’t unpacked.”

“Would have thought you all had done enough talking on the ride home,” she said. Yasmine was seconds away from completely losing it, battling back the ridiculous tears hovering.

Finally, after one last speculative look, her aunt
sighed, gave Yasmine a swift hug and asked if she needed help unpacking. Yasmine had managed to refrain from screaming out a no, she was so desperate to go to her room, already reliving the last few moments when she and Holt had been interrupted in the shed.

Not only had they been interrupted—Holt with his shirt open, hair disheveled, and she with her blouse on the floor, her bra dangling off her shoulders—but they’d been interrupted by the woman who’d been by Holt’s side the entire night, a woman Yasmine could only assume was his current girlfriend.

They’d both heard the woman’s call, and had just enough time to re-dress before she found them.

Embarrassed, Yasmine had fled, evading Holt’s outstretched hands and demands for her to remain where she was. She ran past the woman, barely cataloging her narrowed eyes as her gaze collided with hers for a brief moment.

It hadn’t helped matters in the least when, after taking her shower and wanting nothing more than to jump into bed, she’d checked her cell and seen that she’d missed four calls, and all had been from Clayton Moore.

“Oh, God …” she’d moaned, flopping back on the bed and clicking the icon that took her to her voice mail.

Men like Clayton, rich, handsome, sophisticated, could have their choice of women. Although she had no interest in him outside of business, she would be lying if she said his interest hadn’t been flattering.

Not that she didn’t think she was worthy of a man like Clayton having a personal interest in her. She had a
mirror and was as aware of her attributes, physical and intellectual, as well as her flaws. She could, and had, attracted men of all types.

But with everything combined, winning the competition, the offer of her own show on the food channel as well Clayton’s offer … although it had all seemed surreal, at the same time it had been overwhelming. Which was why the call from her aunt had been a mixed bag of blessings for her.

She knew she needed the time to sort everything out, her life, both professional and personal.

When she’d listened to his deep voice on her voice mail—
and when did he develop that slightly nasal tone in his voice?
Yasmine thought, expecting the slightly giddy feeling she’d gotten the previous times she’d heard his voice—she was chagrined to feel absolutely nothing. Nada. Zip.

After listening to the call, she’d sat on the edge of the bed, completely befuddled … and irritated.

Damn him.

It was all Holt’s fault, she’d thought in irritation. Everything had been running smoothly, her life couldn’t have been going any better, and he had to come back into her life. He had to kiss her and renew that silly girlhood crush, one she had been determined to put behind her once and for all.

He had to look at her with those smoldering blue eyes of his … Stetson low, deep baritone washing over her body, giving her goose bumps in places that made her blush to the bone.

She could still feel the imprint of his callused palms as they brushed across her nipples.

Yasmine inhaled a deep breath, catching the bottom rim of her lip between her teeth.

One hand hesitantly moved up the nightshirt she wore, past her stomach, to lightly cup one of her breasts.

Just as hesitantly a finger brushed over her nipple. Pinching it, she rolled the tightening nub between two fingers. The other hand ran down her thigh and touched her mound.

She felt her breath coming faster.

When her cell rang again, startling her, her eyes sprang open. She glanced around as though someone had caught her, feeling the heat across her cheeks.

Fumbling, she’d reached for her cell, punching the button and rasping out a hello.

When she heard Clayton’s voice on the other end, she forced aside the disappointment that his voice wasn’t the one she wanted to hear and tried to inject as much enthusiasm into her voice as she could.

She broke into his monologue, telling him as gently as she could that she was tired and really just wanted to go to bed; that she’d speak to him as soon as she’d gotten some rest and would call the next day.

He must have noticed something was wrong. There had been a distinct chill in his voice when he’d said goodbye, telling her that if she didn’t reach him to just leave a message with his assistant and he’d get back to her as soon as possible.

So much for having more than a professional interest
in her, she thought, raising a brow at the phone when the silence on the other end told her that he’d hung up.

If his offer was solid, then it would be there when she was ready to make the decision, she’d thought. No one was going to push or press her into doing anything she wasn’t sure of.

After that she’d pulled back the sheets, and the minute her head had hit the pillow, she slept like the dead, the clichéd rooster call waking her up the next morning.

Now Yasmine glanced at her aunt, frowning deeply when she noticed the way she was favoring her right leg as she made her way to the sink, a large pot held in her hand.

Immediately Yasmine felt horrible. Here she was selfishly thinking of her own issues, and her aunt was in pain.

She jumped up, nearly upsetting her chair. Righting it, she swiftly made her way over to her aunt, taking the large pot away from her.

“Now, baby, I can do that! Yas …”

“Go sit down, Aunt Lilly! I’ve got this … Just point and direct. That’s what I’m here for. To help you. That’s the only reason I’m here,” she said, reminding herself as much as she was her aunt. With a shooing motion, she forced her aunt to move away.

“Fine, I know when I’m not needed,” Lilly harrumphed, but Yasmine saw the relieved look in her dark eyes before she limped over to the table in the kitchen and sat down. “Oh, shoot, forgot my tea,” she said, pushing her hands on the table, preparing to
rise, when Yasmine shot her a look. “I swear, Aunt Lilly, if you get back up again …” She allowed the threat to dangle, and laughed at the look that crossed her aunt’s face.

Her aunt placed her hands up, palms out, in silent surrender. “Fine. But I don’t want to get used to all of this catering. What am I going to do when you leave me all alone and I have to go back to flying solo?”

“Flying solo?” she asked, frowning at her aunt as she filled the large pot with water.

After her aunt nodded toward the vegetables on one of the side tables, Yasmine absently grabbed a cutting knife from the large butcher block and made short work of chopping the veggies before adding them to the pot.

She heard her aunt sigh. “No, now don’t get me wrong, the boys always make sure I have plenty of help. I guess I just sometimes really miss you, Yas. Nothing like having another woman in the house. Sometimes there’s too much darn testosterone flying around here for my peace of mind. Works my third nerve sometimes, when all I have is two to spare,” she said, and both women laughed.

After the laughter died down, Yasmine asked, “What about Althea? She seems pretty nice. Does she help you out at all?” She frowned, realizing she didn’t know much about Althea. “Or does she have her own career?”

“Oh, she is, baby. She’s a really sweet girl. Been through a lot, too. Yes, she helps me a lot. Right now she’s so busy with planning the wedding that I hate to
bother her. Besides, I guess I just miss you a whole lot, Yas, that’s all.”

Yasmine added the meat her aunt had already cut into medallions into the pot. She shifted through the spices on the rack, mentally taking note of the missing spices she would buy when she went to town, as she contemplated her aunt’s last words.

“I miss you, too, Aunt Lilly … it’s just—” She started before her aunt stopped her.

“I know. You have your life. And I’m proud of you, I really am. I just wish …” She paused and continued, “I wish you would come out to visit more, Yas. That’s all.”

Yasmine sighed. She knew her aunt was proud of her, knew she wanted the best for her. She also knew that her aunt missed her and would love nothing more than for Yasmine to come home more often—she’d never made any secret of that fact. However, left unsaid between the two of them was the reason that would never happen.