Sarah opened her eyes as the sun streamed through the crack of her curtain. She bounded out of bed, landed on the dog, and crashed to the floor.
Fluffy jerked to his feet and tucked his tail between his legs.
“Sorry, guy, I’m not used to you being here.” She pushed up to her knees and petted him on the head.
The dog’s soft, black snout nudged her hand, and his tongue flicked out to lick her fingers, tail drumming against the dresser.
“No worries, buddy.” She let out a breath and stroked his head. Seven o’clock. Saturday. Becca and Lori took care of the horses on the weekend, so she had two days off. Three hours until Bruce came.
The hike. Her stomach fluttered. She’d been hyperaware of his presence the last couple of days. Judging from the heated looks he gave her, it went both ways.
She took care of the dog and headed back to the bathroom. So far, things were working out. Fluffy didn’t chase the horses and seemed content to run in the fields or sleep in the shade. Even Debbie had come around. She pretended not to like him, but Sarah had spied her giving the dog a treat and patting his head. Sarah had ducked back behind the barn. Debbie would die if someone caught her acting like a softy.
Sarah showered, taking extra care to shave and smooth on a lilac-scented body lotion. Not that Bruce would even see her legs under jeans. Stupid. But no stupider than wearing the pink thong she’d picked up in town. It didn’t matter if he never saw it. She had her sexy vibe going.
She chose a pair of jeans and a lightweight, long-sleeved white shirt. No ponytail today. For once, she’d let her hair down in more ways than one. She smiled to herself and stepped back from the mirror. Amazing what a little makeup could do. The last time she’d worn makeup was for a performance. Her chest tightened with the longing to spread her arms wide and twirl across the stage. Those days were over.
Time dragged until almost ten. She made her way to the front porch and waited for Bruce. Her gaze traveled the open fields. She had to figure out her future soon since she couldn’t live at the farm forever. Correction. Hide, not live.
When she left, she’d never see Bruce again. It made no sense that he wanted to get involved. Sure, right now they had sparks flying between them and a crazy physical attraction. But he’d soon tire of the seclusion.
He didn’t understand how limited their lives would be. Mark sure hadn’t lasted long when the going got tough. And if the stalker really could hack into his production company accounts, nothing would stop him from accessing the therapy program. Bruce couldn’t afford that risk. The vets had already suffered enough loss. She shook her head. This would never work.
Bruce’s truck rumbled on the path, and she glanced up. He parked in front of the house and hopped out. At the sight of him, her pulse jumped. The wind tousled his dark hair. Muscles bulged under his light blue shirt, and his shades added a touch of cool. He mounted the steps and slid the sunglasses to the top of his head.
He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
She tapped her fingers against her thigh, warring between the strong desire to go with him or to say she’d changed her mind. “I…um…am having some second thoughts about this.”
“Why’s that?”
She focused on the fields. If she faced him and had to take on those baby blues, she’d never say what she needed. “I tried to tell you before. It’s not fair to you. I don’t want to drag you into my crazy world. There’s no point in trying to start anything.”
He let out a breath and touched her arm. “You’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Making decisions for me. Is there some other reason you don’t want to go?” His gaze delved into hers.
She shook her head. “No.”
“I’m a grown man. I choose my own risks and make my own decisions. Understand?”
She bit her lip and nodded.
“I’ve never seen you with your hair down.” He ran a hand through her hair before dipping his head to brush his lips against hers. “I like it.”
Tiny shivers traveled through her.
“So are you coming with me?” He pulled back to look her in the eyes.
And she was lost. “Yes.”
He led her to the truck. After she climbed in, he cranked on some tunes, and they drove through the country roads a few miles until they came to a small parking area with a wooden sign indicating a trail.
“This path runs along the water. It’s not a tough hike.” He slipped his shades off.
“Huh. Think I’m a wuss?” She tilted her head.
“No, ma’am. I’ve seen you in action at the farm.”
“You did not just call me ma’am.”
Bruce held his hands up. “No, sir. Not me.”
“Hey.” She play-punched his arm and laughed.
“It’s nice to see you smile.” He leaned closer and grazed a thumb across her cheek, resting his hand on the side of her neck. “Thank you for coming.”
His fingers found the tender flesh under her ear, and her breath hitched. With the lightest touch, he rubbed the spot. Frissons of awareness rolled down her spine.
The sun shined through the window, illuminating flecks of teal in his eyes. She couldn’t look away, not that she wanted to. The gentleness from a man so tough and intimidating caught her off guard. That kiss in the suite was what she expected from him. Demanding, possessive, and dominant. The kind that bruised her lips, but she didn’t care.
“Sarah?” The sound of her name, almost a whisper, swirled in the air between them.
She moistened her lips with her tongue, leaning her neck deeper into his hold. “Hmm?”
“I want to start this recon right now.” He inched his face closer, eyes wide open as if he couldn’t break contact either. “Get to know all of you.”
She parted her lips, but he brought his to her temple. Holding them there, he stroked her back. His breath fanned her hair, and she forced herself to inhale. When her chest expanded, her breast brushed against his forearm. Her nipple tightened, and he stilled.
“Better take this slow.” She couldn’t tell if he was talking to her or himself.
He reached behind the seat, hoisted a backpack out, and moved over to the driver’s side. Blowing out a breath, he glanced at her. “Ready?”
“Mmm hmm.” She was ready all right. But not for the hike. He must think she’d lost her tongue because she hadn’t formed words since he’d laid hands on her.
She opened the door, and the breeze blew her hair. Birds chirped in the tall trees. They climbed out, and Bruce slid on the backpack. He took her hand. Such a simple thing, but again, a surprise. And a nice one. She’d never in a million years have pegged him to be a guy who would hold hands on a hike. Oops, make that a recon. She bit into a grin.
“What’s so funny?” He cocked his head.
Uh-oh. Caught. “Nothing, I just didn’t expect you to be so…”
“So what?” He let go of her hand and straightened.
Crap. She had to open her big mouth. “I don’t know. Just so…gentlemanly.”
He blinked and gave his head a quick come-again shake. “Gentlemanly?”
She shrugged. “I’m not complaining. I like it. It just surprises me.”
He planted a hand on his hip. “I wasn’t raised by wolves, you know.”
Oh boy. The Bruce she knew was back. The urge to reach out and rumple his hair almost took over, but she didn’t dare poke a bear with a stick. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to be—”
“Never mind.” He shifted the pack on his shoulders. “Let’s just go.”
“Wait.” She slipped her hand back into his and squeezed a forgive-me message.
For a moment, he stared down at her, all tension and spiky. And then his face softened. He slowly brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it, holding her gaze.
Her eyes must have registered her shock, or he’d noticed her knees wobble, because the hint of a satisfied smile formed, and he led her to the trail with a strong grip. Oh yeah, his swag was back, and hot damn he had her attention.
They trekked along the narrow path, stepping over roots and fallen branches. A squirrel scurried across and climbed up a tree. The earthy scent of pine and moss hung in the air.
“Tell me about your family,” he said.
Her throat tightened.
When she didn’t say anything, he stopped. “Unless you don’t want to talk about them.”
“No. It’s okay. I just miss them.” She lowered her gaze to the ground.
“I’m sure.”
“It is what it is.” She took a breath and resumed the hike. “I have two sisters. We’re close even though we’re all different. Maddie’s a year older than me, Anne two. She can be quite the mother hen. But honestly, I don’t know if I could have pulled this off without her help. She’s my rock.”
“I’m glad she’s there for you.”
“Maddie can be a bit much. I think it’s the red hair. She’s an archaeologist and definitely in the right field.” Sarah shook her head. “I’ll never forget the time she called Anne and me into the basement. Maddie was around nine. She dug into her pockets and dumped the contents on top of my dad’s workbench. Buttons, Barbie doll limbs, Happy Meal toys, and a bunch of random stuff. Next, she tells us to bury them.”
Bruce climbed over a fallen tree and kept hold of Sarah’s hand as she followed. “Did you?”
“Yup. She ran around and had them all dug up within minutes.” Sarah smiled. “That little twerp. She marched us out to the garden where we’d buried some of them and read us the riot act for not smoothing out the soil. Said we made it too easy.”
“That’s hilarious.”
“It wasn’t to my mother. She loved her gardens.” Sarah brushed back her hair from the wind. “We raced out to find my mother standing next to her garden, which now looked like a minefield gone bad. She gave us the scariest stink-eye ever.”
A sound came from the woods, and Sarah stopped short. “What was that?”
Bruce craned his neck and peered into the woods before shaking his head. “I know what a person sounds like moving through the woods. That was an animal, probably a rabbit. Nothing to worry about. I’m right here with you.”
She had to stop being so jumpy. He was right. No one would attack her with him around.
He tugged her hand and led again. “I take it you all survived the garden digging?”
Sarah glanced at the woods but followed him, picking the story back up. “Until Mom went out front to the landscaping.” She grinned. “The garden wasn’t the only place we dug.”
“Tactical error.”
“It kind of went from there. I don’t think Maddie ever thought of doing anything but archaeology.” Maybe she should tell him about Maddie’s upcoming visit. He’d find out soon enough when she showed up at the farm. “She’s coming here next week.”
“What?” He froze midstride and turned around.
“She has a conference at Penn State, and she mapped out a route taking busses to get here. I’m going to pick her up in town.”
“You look worried about it.”
Tension bunched the back of her neck. “I am. I mean, I want to see her so badly, but what if somehow the stalker follows her?”
“How?” He held a hand out palm up.
“I don’t know. Anne seems to think it’s a good plan, and she’s cautious, so I’m probably being paranoid. But still—”
“What if I pick Maddie up in another town? If anyone was following her, they wouldn’t see you.”
Hmm. Not a bad idea.
“And I’d make sure no one tailed us back.”
“You’d do that for me?”
Bruce stepped close and cupped her chin, raising her head until she met his eyes. “That and more.”
The woods quieted, fading into the background as all the air seemed to leave her lungs. Her gaze traveled over his tanned face, pausing on the lighter-colored jagged scar. All lines and planes, with a square jaw, his features exuded strength. No studio makeup or pampered skin on this man. He was pure, unadulterated male. And yet, earlier, he’d pressed those full, sexy lips against her hand with enough tenderness to make her melt.
“I like you this way.” He traced her lower lip with his thumb.
Blood rushed to her belly and then farther south. “How?”
“Not arguing with me.”
When she opened her mouth to protest, he placed a finger across it. “Shh. Let me finish.”
As long as he kept touching her like this, she’d let him talk until the leaves fell.
He settled a hand at her waist. Moving his finger from her mouth, he ran it along her cheekbone. “You’re like a prized racehorse. Spirited, proud, and beautiful. Sensitive to my every contact.”
She trembled and gazed up at him, mesmerized by the soft cadence of his voice. His eyes caught the filtered sunshine and changed color to reflect the deep hues of the green forest. Never mind that he’d just compared her to a horse; to him, that was the highest compliment.
“And inside…” He skimmed his hand down the column of her throat to the opened top button of her blouse. Pausing, he slid his palm to the left, over the fabric, and pressed it flat. “…beats a strong heart full of courage, love, and kindness.”
No one had ever spoken to her this way. His words were a balm to the all the craziness in her life. Somehow, despite her desperation, he saw beneath the surface, and it humbled her. His hand warmed the skin under her shirt. He had to feel the erratic thumping of her heart.
Leaning down, he brought his lips to within a breath of hers. He shifted his hold from her waist to the small of her back, pulling her up against the length of him, fully aroused.
Pleasure swam through her to know she had that effect on him. She tipped her face higher, craving his lips.
A soft breeze blew between the fraction of an inch that separated them.
“Hey. Wait for me.” A child’s voice rang out, followed by the sound of footsteps running through the woods.
Bruce cursed and stepped back.
The separation jolted her body. She’d shut out everything but him and forgotten where they even were. Her surroundings came back into focus.
A little boy ran past them chased by a smaller girl, who continued to yell, “Wait.”
From across the path, Bruce’s eyes burned hot enough to scorch.
“Sorry, excuse us.” A woman wearing a backpack hurried past.
Their footsteps grew fainter, and Bruce glanced at the trail. “Ready to get moving again?”
She’d rather pick up right where they’d left off, but they were in public. Maybe he’d lost track of that as well. “Sure.”
They hiked in silence for a while, which gave her a chance to cool down. A calmness settled over her as she inhaled the piny scent of the woods. Aside from her crazy hormones, spending time with Bruce talking and hiking was fun. She could get used to this. “So do you have brothers or sisters?”
Bruce’s hand froze on the branch he held to the side for her to pass. “My parents died years ago, and I don’t have siblings.” He stepped over a mushy spot on the ground. “Watch the mud.”
He couldn’t mean he had no family. “Wait.”
Bruce stopped. “What?”
“Is your uncle Joe the only relative you have?”
“Yes.”
Her breath stalled. “I’m sorry. That must be—”
“It’s fine.” He swiped at another branch in the path and led again.
Okay, that topic was off-limits. She frowned and followed. He sure could wipe his face clean of emotions when he wanted, but she’d seen plenty of feelings before when he’d almost kissed her. Maybe he’d talk about something else. “What was it like growing up on a farm?”
“Cool. I got to spend a lot of time with horses.”
“Greg told me about how you saved all of them from a barn fire. He said you have some sort of—”
“What? When did he tell you that?” Bruce swung around to face her.
“After the incident with the runaway horse.”
“Christ.” He plodded on. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Sure sounds like a big deal to me.” She stifled a laugh when he smacked a branch out of the way. “Greg said you were only fifteen, and they wrote about it in the papers, and people started calling you a horse whisperer.”
He pivoted on his heel. “He told you that too?”
She nodded.
“It was a long time ago.” He shook his head.
“Well, it made an impression on him. He thinks you’re a legend.” She placed a hand on Bruce’s arm. “I’ve seen you with the horses, and you have a gift.”
He looked to the sky and blew out a breath. After a few seconds, he asked, “You getting hungry?”
Changing the subject. Typical. She grinned. “Sure.”
“There’s a spot up ahead we can eat.”
They stopped by a cluster of flat rocks next to a running stream.
“It’s gorgeous here.” She raised her face to the warm sun while Bruce shrugged off the backpack.
He pulled out a couple of waters and two subs. “Italian or turkey?”
“Turkey, unless you prefer it.”
“Nope.” He handed her one.
Sarah unwrapped her sandwich. While they ate, Bruce pointed out a red-tailed hawk soaring over the woods and told her about the various fish native to the stream.
She rested her back against a rock, and her bones melted. The gurgling stream, the warm sun, Bruce’s rich, deep voice. She could lose herself in this peaceful setting. But she wanted to know more about the man beside her. At last, she had the chance to ask some questions. “How did you get into hippotherapy?”
“Joe showed up one day and told me he’d bought an ex-racehorse and needed someone to train him.”
“Batal?”
“Yeah.” Bruce took a sip of water.
“Does he work with your patients?”
“No. He’s way too spirited for therapy. I only use horses like Misty. But if I hadn’t come to train Batal, I never would have seen the program.” He took another sip. “A woman at the farm ran it, but she worked with cerebral palsy kids. I couldn’t believe the results. I looked into setting up a program for the vets. Timing was perfect because she and her husband moved, and Debbie had space for me at the farm.”
Bruce waved a hand at her. “What was it like growing up as a dancer? Did you have to go to special schools?”
Ballet. Her heart turned inside out. Every morning she ached to slip on her shoes and dance again. “I went to New York when I was fourteen. The theater company became my surrogate family.”
“Must have been hard to leave home so young.”
“Yeah. Besides missing everyone, I didn’t have a social life outside of the studio. No proms or football games.”
“I spent all my time at the ranch, so I get it.”
She glanced at him. They had more in common than she’d thought. “I’m not complaining, though. Dance is all I ever wanted to do.” She shrugged. “The rehearsals are intense, but it’s all worth it when you perform. It’s like my body and soul are extensions of the music. For that space and time, nothing exists but the dance. I don’t know if you can understand…”
He nodded. “Sounds like riding for me. No way to describe the feeling. It’s all about trust and connection with the horse. I forget about everything else.”
“Then you do understand. Nothing can replace it. All my life I worked so hard, and I finally had my dream. The sacrifices my family made to put me through the school… They were so proud when I earned the position of principal dancer.” The acute pain that came whenever she faced all she’d lost crushed her chest. She closed her eyes.
Bruce mentally slapped himself. He’d invited Sarah out to have fun. Instead, they were tripping down a sad memory lane, talking about his lack of family and the fact that she couldn’t perform anymore. He slid closer and put an arm around her.
“You’ll dance again. I promise.” He squeezed her shoulder, and she leaned into him.
Stroking her hair, he kissed the top of her head. She raised her face to look up at him. Her soft breast pressing against his ribs stirred something low and primal. He shifted and lowered his mouth. “I didn’t get to finish this.”
“What?”
He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he grazed his lips across hers and scooped her onto his lap. Maybe not the most strategic move, considering his condition.
“Oh.” The corners of her mouth turned up.
With the lightest touch, he kissed each side. A tiny sigh slipped from her, and he rubbed a hand down her back.
His growing erection pressed against her outer thigh. She blushed. God, she was beautiful. Ever since their first kiss, he’d craved touching her. He’d forgotten what it was like to allow himself to feel. The world dropped away whenever he held her.
Her breathing turned shallow, and he closed his eyes. He couldn’t get enough of her. His cock throbbed under the pressure of her weight, and he stifled the urge to rock her against it.
He slanted his mouth across hers. Her soft lips moved under his. When she darted her tongue against his teeth, heat blazed through his body. He gripped her tighter and worked his tongue into her mouth, exploring her sweetness.
Plop. Plop. Plop.
He pulled away. Damn distractions.
Next date was going to be someplace private. He scoped the area. His gaze settled on a tall oak across from the stream.
He stilled.
Sarah looked up. “What’s wrong?”
Bruce stared at the heart he’d carved in the tree years ago after he and Emily had picnicked under the oak. It glared at him from across the narrow stream as he held Sarah in his now-stiff arms.
She pushed off his lap and twisted to follow his gaze. “I don’t see anyone.”
He was hiking the same trail he had with Emily. They’d sat together on these rocks as well as the ones under the oak. He’d told Emily at her grave no one could replace her, and here he was, trying to do exactly that. He brought a hand to his forehead.
“Bruce? What’s wrong?” Sarah squatted next to him.
Too many things. Her scent, her warmth, the way she melted into his arms. The strong longing he had to pull her close and let her in warred with his guilt.
Sarah’s packed duffel bag flashed in his mind.
She was unpredictable and too independent to rely on him. If threatened, she’d run. And she’d take his heart with her. Or what was left of it. He couldn’t afford the risk. And if she didn’t run, she’d be stuck with someone who couldn’t commit and was haunted by a ghost.
“I think it’s time to get going.” He stood, tossed the trash into the backpack, and stuffed his arms through the shoulder straps.
“Why? I don’t understand.”
He poured ice into his veins. His detachment might hurt her at first, but in the end, she’d be better off. He carried around way too much shit. She deserved better.
“I’m sorry. You were right this morning about this being a mistake.”
Her mouth dropped open. “A mistake? But why? I—”
“It’s not you. I’m sorry.”
She flinched. “Seriously? It’s not you, it’s me?”
That sounded horrible, but it was the truth. “Like I said, I’m sorry.”
She swallowed hard and picked up her bag.
He started down the trail.
She kept up with his quick pace back to the truck and climbed in when he hit the Unlock button.
After tossing his pack in the back, he glanced at her. Lips pressed together, hands gripped in her lap, she blinked as if fighting back tears.
Fuck. He’d really hurt her.
Nothing he could say would change the fact she was better off without him. She leaned her head against the passenger window and closed her eyes as he drove. He ground his molars, forcing his gaze on the road.
When at last they reached the farm, he stopped the truck and made a move to open his door.
“Don’t bother.” She yanked hers open.
His insides twisted. He’d caused her so much pain. Fucked everything up. “Sarah, I’m sorry. I—”
“Please, just stop.” She held up a hand then all but ran to the back entrance of the suite.