Willow Smoke (83 page)

Nick
backed
away
and
removed
his
glasses.
He
reached
for
his
handkerchief
and
began
cleaning
them.
He
was
stymied.
The
woman
was
twisting
him
in
more
directions
than
what
showed
on
any
compass
he’d
ever
held.
Was
he
a
fool?
If
he
was
a
wise
man,
he’d
just
walk
away
and leave
this
beauty
and
her
sultry
overbite
to
the
wolves.
He
winced.
He’d
always
enjoyed
being
regarded
as
the
fool.
There
was
more
than
one
corporate
executive
who
was
left
wondering
how
he
had
been
outmaneuvered
by
such
a
laid
back
innocent
as
himself.

But
Daisy
Matthews
was
more
wily
than
any
business
executive
he’d
ever
dealt
with.
Clint
Travers
had
tipped
him
off
as
soon
as
Reggie
was
spotted
entering
the
stable
area.
But
he
had
to
pry
the
information
out
of
Daisy.
She
was
still
hiding
from
him,
but
he’d
stumbled
across
another
motivating factor for her. She was
trying
to
protect
him.
Should
he
laugh
or
cry?
How
did
she
think
she
was
going
to
protect him from the likes of Reggie
Lassiter?

And
she
knew
he
wanted
to
marry
her.
But
each
time
he
made
even
an
oblique
reference
to
such
a
possibility,
she
fled
emotionally,
and
if
she
could
really
fly
she’d
be
long
gone
from
his
presence.
The
woman
was
becoming
hazardous
to
his
ego.

“So, what do you want me
to do, Daisy,
crawl
into
a
hole
and
wait
for
you
to
sort
out your life?” He wet his lips. “If so,
you
haven’t
yet
learned
that
there
will
always
be
things
to
sort
out
in
your
life.
Probably
even
when
you’re
ninety.”

Nick
watched
that
trapped
look
reappear
in
her
eyes. It wasn’t there often—but
it
was
that
look
that
tore
his
insides
up
more
than
anything
else.
She
looked
so
alone,
so
helpless.
So
in
need
of
what
he
wanted
to
give
her.

“So,
what
do
you
want
from
me,
Daisy?
Don’t
leave
me
hanging.”

- o -

Trembling,
Daisy
struggled
to
speak.
Why
was
it so much easier to talk to Bear
than
to
Nick?
She
closed
her
eyes
and
imagined
Bear.
She
chewed
her
lower
lip
and then whispered, “I don’t want to lose
you. I want you with me, Nick. But I can’t marry you. So don’t ask.” She
whimpered. “Not now. I want you to hold me, if you
would.”

His
arms
enfolded
her
and
she
laid
her
head
on
his
shoulder.
He
stroked
her
back,
calming
her
trembling.
“I
want
you,”
she
said, “but you’ve got to let me be me.”

“I know,” he moaned into
her hair. “I try, but I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Nor do I want to see
you
hurt.”
She
leaned
back
against
his
arms.
She
smiled
through
tears.
“Do
you
think
we
can
be
together
and
not
hurt
each
other?”

“Not
likely,”
Nick
admitted.

“I
suppose
you’re
right.”
She
ran
her
fingers
along
his
smooth
chin.
Her
heart
clutched.
There
was
only
one
way
to
free
it.
She
needed
to
give
love.
She
needed
to
receive
love.
She
bent
forward
and
traced
his
lips
with
her
tongue.
Nick
froze
in
place
like
a
statue.
“To
hell
with
the
pain,”
she
said,
her
voice
husky.
“Show
me
how
much
you
love
me,
Nicholas
Underwood.
Right
here.
Right
now.”

She
covered
his
lips
with
hers.
She
separated
his lips
and
her
tongue
probed
his
mouth.
His
tongue
greeted
hers
and
then
entered
her
mouth.
She
sucked
his
tongue
until
she
feared
tearing
it
out by its roots. Already her reservoir
was filling.
She
soared.
She’d
missed
him
so.
She’d
kiss
him
for
hours
if
other
parts
of
her
body
weren’t
so
insistent
on
demanding
equal
treatment.

Without
breaking
their
kiss,
she
reached
for
the
button
on
his
shirt.
He
continued
probing
her
mouth,
searching
as
if
for
something
long
lost.

Frustrated,
wanting
to
feel
his
skin
against
hers,
she broke the kiss. She tore at
her
blouse; buttons skittered across the
floor.
Her
bra
followed.
At
last,
she
rubbed
her
hardening
nipples
against
his.
She
breathed
deeply,
reveling
in
his
scent.
Nick
groaned
loudly.
His
hardness
pressed
against
her
loins.

“Are
you
sure?”
he
asked,
hoarsely.

“Most
definitely.”
She
licked
his
corded
neck
muscles
in
case
he
didn’t
believe
her
words.

“You’re
not
going
to
run
from
me
when
we’re
done.”

“Not
hardly.

“Good.”
He
reached
for
her
belt
buckle
and
she
worked
to
undo
his.
In
tandem,
they
divested
each
other
of
remaining
clothes.

Nick laved her breasts,
first one and then the other.

“God, I’ve missed you so,”
Daisy
whimpered,
leaning
back
against
the
counter.