He forced himself to lift his head. He had to catch his breath, and she seemed similarly occupied. He searched her wide, stunned eyes for a long moment, until his heartbeat echoed in his ears like a throbbing drum.
Her face was beautiful. Her exquisite complexion was softly flushed, her lips were swollen and moist from the long, hard contact with his mouth. Wisps of black hair trailed around her rosy cheeks, and her hazel eyes looked totally helpless.
“It might be a good idea if we go, while we still have a choice,” he murmured ruefully. He put her back on her feet and let her arms slide away from his neck. God, she was potent!
“Yes, it might,” she agreed gently, equally affected and having a hard time dealing with it.
He waited while she locked the door and escorted her to the Jeep. “If you stick around long enough, I’ll buy a car,” he murmured when they were driving off.
“I like the Jeep,” she protested. “And it must come in handy on the ranch.”
“It does,” he had to agree. He glanced at her, frowning. So many secrets, he thought. She was mysterious, and he had a terrible secret of his own, about his real father. It would be better for both of them if he took her back to Winnie’s and didn’t see her again. But he couldn’t seem to force himself to do that. Whatever happened, he had to have her, even if it was only one time. He knew instinctively that it would be different with her than it ever had been before; that it would be a kind of ecstasy he’d never known. He ached for her now. It was too late to stop it.
He’d been having more trouble sleeping lately than he ever had in his life—and more cold showers. He opened the window, needing air, and glanced at Allison.
“Do you mind?” he asked.
She leaned her head against the seat and studied his face warmly. “No.”
“It’ll keep me awake. I haven’t been sleeping well. Too many things on my mind.”
“What things?” she asked gently.
“Life, Allison.”
The sound of her name on his lips made her tingle. She liked the way he said it.
“It’s been difficult for you, I know,” she replied. “The important thing is that you’ll get through it. Nothing lasts forever. Not even pain.”
He scowled, darting a glance in her direction. “Don’t bet on it,” he replied.
Her eyes fell to his firm jaw, to the cut of his lips. She liked his profile. It was strong, like the man himself. “It’s early days yet, though,” she reminded him. “You can’t expect to have your life torn apart and put back together overnight. I don’t imagine that waiting comes easily to you.”
He smiled in spite of himself. “No. It doesn’t.” He was quiet for a minute before he spoke again. “But in this case, I don’t have a lot of choice. Are you impatient, Allison? Or do you find it easy to wait for the things you want?”
“I was always taught that patience was among the greatest virtues,” she said simply. “But sometimes it’s very difficult to stand back and not try to force things into place. Accepting things isn’t much easier,” she added, thinking of her parents.
He nodded. “I guess we’re all human, aren’t we, cupcake?” he asked quietly. “And there are times when it seems that we can’t manage any control over our own destiny.”
“You don’t go to church, I guess,” she asked softly.
He shook his head. “No.” His face hardened. “I can’t believe in a God who torments people.”
“He doesn’t,” she said. “We do that to ourselves. He watches and helps when we ask Him, but I think we’re somewhat responsible for our own destinies. When we have choices, we make them. Life takes care of the rest.”
“And where does God enter into it?”
“He gave us free will,” she said, smiling. “Otherwise, Eve would never have handed Adam that delicious, succulent juicy apple.”
He burst out laughing. “Do tell?” he chuckled.
“Besides, there are other forces at work in the world. Balance means evil exists with good. Sometimes it’s hard to win against the darker forces.” Her eyes clouded. “That doesn’t mean you quit trying. You just work harder.”
“You sound like a minister we used to have,” he mused without looking at her, which was a shame. The expression on her face would have fascinated him. “He wasn’t a bad sort. I used to enjoy listening to him.”
“What stopped you from going to services?” she asked, curious.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I guess it was because it didn’t seem to make any difference. Going to church didn’t solve my problems.”
“It doesn’t solve them. It helps you cope with them,” she said with a gentle smile. “Being religious doesn’t automatically make you immune to hard times and hurt.”
“That’s what I discovered for myself. I expected miracles.”
“Miracles are all around,” she said. “They happen every day.”
“Do they really?” he asked, unconvinced.
“Oh, yes.” She could have told him that she was one. That she was alive was truly through divine intervention. She glanced out the window. “We aren’t going through Shoshone Canyon again, are we?” she asked, changing the subject delicately.
“No. I took you on a wide Western detour to show you the canyon and the tunnel. We’re going northwest straight into Cody this time. Have you ever been to a rodeo?”
“Once or twice, down in Arizona. It’s very dangerous, isn’t it?”
“More than one cowboy has lost his life in a rodeo arena,” he agreed. “All it takes is one small lapse of concentration, or carelessness. You can be gored by a bull, kicked by a horse, trampled, bitten, thrown so hard you break a bone... It’s no game for city cowboys.”
“Have any tried?” she asked, curious now.
He chuckled softly. “We had this guy from back East at one of the
