Breathless for You: Outback Skies, Book 1 (6 page)

“And that’s the reason you’re leaving?” His jaw bunched. His stare held hers. “Because you don’t think you can pilot a plane anymore? There’s nothing
else
, no other reason you can think of for staying in Wallaby Ridge? No purpose at all?”

She let out a wry laugh, her heart a wretched weight in her chest. “I can’t
just
be the sexy doctor’s girlfriend, Matt. I can’t just sit around waiting for you to come home after healing people, helping people all day. I’d go crazy, and you’d grow to resent me.”

“Bullshit.”

She smiled at his vehement statement, the action at once sad and bittersweet. “You make it too easy to fall in love with you, Doc.”

“All the more reason to stay, don’t you think? How many people have you come across in your life, Tash, who are easy to love?”

His question, asked with guarded tone, made her laugh. The sound was as weak as she was. She truly was running on empty fumes. If she didn’t get moving soon, she’d surrender to every impulse in her body and just crumple into Matt’s arms. And she couldn’t do that. Not and still walk away from him and the fantasy life he presented when they got back to town.

Turning to the nose of her plane—no, not
her
plane, not anymore—she shrugged. “I’ve never found anyone I wanted to love. Not until you came along. And it’s that reason I
have
to go. Until I know
who
I am without being a pilot, I’m just a pretty girl in a tight pair of jeans, poor people skills and a bleak attitude. And
that
girl, you don’t want to love her. I’m pretty certain you’d grow to hate her very quickly.”

“Tash.”

“Fix your clothes up, Doc,” she said as she began walking away from him and the wing. “We’re going to be airborne…”

The rest of the sentence died on her lips as a tsunami of giddy blackness crashed over her. She staggered sideways, her feet like lead, her limbs the same. Oh no…

Her vision blurred.

Dammit, she was so tired. Tired and weak and—

Two arms wrapped around her. Pulled her close to a hard body.

“I’ve got you, babe,” she heard Matt murmur through the foggy blackness of complete and utter exhaustion. “I’ve got you.”

She slumped against him. Didn’t fight or protest when her feet were lifted from the ground and her body cradled against Matt’s chest. Couldn’t fight. She didn’t have the emotional or physical strength. “This doesn’t…” she slurred, incapable of opening her eyes. Oh man, she’d never felt so drained. “This doesn’t change anything.”

He may have chuckled. He may have told her to shush. He may have kissed her temple. She wasn’t sure. Her brain, along with her body, had finally succumbed to the toll of her numerous asthma attacks and shut down. Defeated.

The last thing she remembered was nestling her head beneath his chin, drawing his distinct scent into her lungs and thinking she’d never been happier…or sadder.

And then all there was were dreams of soaring through the clouds, of screaming out to Matt as he plummeted through the sky, of black smoke and billowing flames and sirens and Matt’s fingers slipping through hers as they spun through a never-ending blue emptiness.

And then there wasn’t even that.

Chapter Six

The warm heat kissing her face and eyelids dragged Tash up from the void of sleep. Opening her eyes, she squinted at the golden ball of heat sitting low on the far horizon.

Sun.

Light.

Heat.

What time was it?

Twisting on the quilted blanket spread out on the ground beneath her—one of Jen’s?—she pushed herself into an upright position and swung a look around.

The King Air B200 sat silent a good fifteen feet or so from where she sat, bathed in soft dawn light. To the right of the plane, three kangaroos fed on the sparse green shoots of grass in its shadow.

“They’ve been there for a while.”

Tash startled at the sound of Matt’s low murmur beside her. The memory of collapsing in his arms a lifetime ago, of telling him that she was leaving, of telling him she loved him, slammed into her, and her heart skipped a beat.

He sat on the blanket to her left, fully dressed, a strip of white bandaging wrapped around his forehead, his elbows resting on his bent knees as he gazed at the family of roos eating beneath her plane’s wing.

Unable to find a word to say, she studied his profile.

A slow smile curled his lips. She couldn’t tell if it was sad. “They were there when I woke this morning. Didn’t jump away when I got up to stretch.” He flicked her a quick look, his sunglasses hiding his eyes—his emotion—from her. “By the way, I’ve come to the realization that while I
love
sleeping with you curled in my arms, I’d rather do it in a bed and not on the ground out in the middle of the Outback after surviving a rather dramatic landing.”

Tash opened her mouth.

Still, words refused to come, damn it.

Before she could make some kind of sound, he was smiling at the kangaroos again. “They’ve been munching on the grass for close to an hour now. It’s been therapeutic watching them.”

“Matt…”

His name. Uttered on a husky croak. That was it. Nothing else. It was something, at least.

He turned back to her again, moving his whole body this time until he faced her completely, elbows on his knees, sunglasses-concealed eyes directed at her and only her. “I know what you’re trying to do, Natacha.”

She sucked in a swift breath, not just at the serious tone in his voice, but the compassion as well. “Matt,” she repeated.

“I get it,” he went on. “It took me a night of being furious at you. Of wanting to wake you every time I looked at you to tell you how selfish and stupid you were being.”

A lick of anger shot through her at his declaration. She frowned, narrowing her eyes. Stupid? Selfish?

“And then—” he held up his hand with a wry grin, “—I thought about where
I’d
spent the last three months of my life before coming to Wallaby Ridge and why.”

Tash frowned. Everyone at Wallaby Ridge knew where Matt Corvin had been before coming to their small town. The whole damn country knew where Matt had been. He was a recognized Australian hero, almost a celebrity in his own right, although it had only taken a week for Tash to see his was a reluctant fame. He rarely spoke about the events for which he was known in the media, and only when directly asked, and even then, with an uncomfortable unease and hesitancy. She’d never broached the subject with him. Jen had, of course. The nurse had asked him about it every day, emphasizing what a national hero he was often, usually a second before giving Tash pointed sideway glances. Tash suspected the older woman had been trying to play matchmaker without being obvious.

Tash had often come close to telling Jen she needn’t have bothered. She’d known from the moment she’d met Matt he was amazing. Too amazing for someone like her, what with her emotional baggage, parent issues and fucked-up lungs and all.

And yet here he was now, hinting there was more to his reason for being at Wallaby Ridge?

“I mentioned yesterday,” he said, watching her from behind his dark lenses, “that I was getting over a broken heart.”

She nodded. Inside her chest, her own heart thumped fast.

“It’s
more
than that. A lot more to be honest, although I didn’t realize it until last night as you slept in my arms.”

Tash frowned. “I don’t…?”

He let out a wry snort, rubbing at the scar running up his inner forearm. “I was furious at you, remember. When I’m furious, I get…contemplative.”

She couldn’t help but smile at him. With him. And then his smile faded and a ragged sigh passed his lips. “I returned to Somalia, a place that almost killed me, because I was running from life. Running from something I couldn’t control.”

His words tightened the knot in her belly. A lump filled her throat.

With another ragged sigh and a shake of his head, he removed his sunglasses, letting his stare linger on the feeding kangaroos for a moment before turning back to her. “I couldn’t control who my fiancée fell in love with while I was presumed dead. I didn’t hate her for it. I was gone for over eight months. I hated me. I hated that I’d failed her, failed myself, failed our plans and dreams. So I went back to helping those in Somalia, thinking it was the best place to learn who I was if I wasn’t her future husband.

“The war-torn country didn’t provide any answers though. Only questions I couldn’t fathom. I lost my way, wondered what the hell it all meant if we couldn’t stop grief and pain. It made me numb. Unable to find the answers I was looking for, I returned to Sydney. But everywhere I turned, I saw the future I’d planned with Caitlin.

“And yet, it wasn’t even that driving me all the way out here. It was a sense I had no purpose anymore. I’ve never been good at being idle. So I withdrew to a place where I had little chance of connecting with my heart to anyone again while still being a doctor.” A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “And then you walked into the Flying Doctors’ headquarters. When that happened, I realized all the running I’d done had brought me to the very place life wanted me to be.”

A prickling wave of heat folded around Tash. Her throat tightened. So did her chest. Oh God, what must he have lived through, endured, and still here he was, a man more selfless and compassionate than any she’d known.

So why are you denying yourself? Why are you being so stubborn?

Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “That woman that you first saw, Matt? With her arrogant swagger, dubious social skills and over-reliance on snark? She was the product of a dream already shattered. I came to Wallaby Ridge because the life
I
wanted as a fighter pilot was killed by my stupid fucked-up lungs. Being a fighter pilot was
all
I’d planned for, lived for, and it was taken from me.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him, let him see all the contempt she had for herself broiling in her soul. “And then I came here, met you, flew with you every day… God, Matt, it was the perfect life, and then I almost killed you. Don’t you see why I have to go?”

Matt shook his head. “No. I don’t. I see a stubborn woman who defied her medical condition to land a plane safely out in the middle of nowhere, without a runway to be seen, making sure we
both
survived.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. “I couldn’t let the plane crash.”

“Because you don’t give up. Ever. It’s one of the things I admire you about, Tash.” He leant forward. A little. “And I know you’re not going to start now.”

She swallowed. “But what else am I meant to do out here? What else—”

He kissed her. A soft, barely there kiss. “Let me ask you something,” he whispered, his breath warm on her lips as his fingers found hers. “You say you need to go back to Sydney to discover who you are now you’ve decided you can’t be a pilot?”

She couldn’t nod. The notion of walking away from him, of leaving him seemed ridiculous.

So why are you doing it?

“Why can’t you discover that here?”

“Matt,” she murmured.

“With me?”

He didn’t let her answer. And really, she had no answer for him. No sane or rational one. Instead, he cupped the back of her head with a gentle palm and took possession of her mouth with his.

She surrendered to the kiss without delay. Without thought or hesitancy. There was no point in trying to fight it. She loved him and she loved being kissed by him. What happened after the kiss…she would face
that
when it happened.

His lips journeyed hers, nibbling bites that explored first her bottom lip then her top. She sighed into the exquisitely gentle contact, eyes closing. He lingered at the corners of her mouth, touching the tip of his tongue to the shallow junction before tasting her lips again.

She moaned, a hitching sound of supplication and aching need.

It
was
need. Elemental need. Base need. There was no point denying she needed him. On every level.

Leaning closer to him, she smoothed her hands over the hardness of his chest, up the column of his throat, over his jaw. The stubble of his overnight growth scratched her palms, a wicked sensation that detonated a delicious thrill deep in the junction of her thighs. She moaned again, deepening their kiss as she slipped her hands up into his hair.

With a soft chuckle into her mouth, he pulled away.

Opening her eyes, she frowned. “Why—”

He held up a
wait
finger, eyes twinkling, before reaching behind his head with both hands.

Tash frowned again, her belly a fluttering mess of nerves and anticipation. There was still no resolution to her problem, no answer, but right at that moment, she didn’t care. “What are you doing, Doc?”

Grinning at her, he unraveled the bandage with skilled perfection. “There’s no way in hell,” he said as he wound the white strip of cotton into a tight coil with masterful ease, “I’m making love to you looking like the Mummy’s reject offspring.”

She burst out laughing, his declaration sending a fresh wave of warmth through her. How could he do that? Make her feel so happy even as he made her feel so horny?

How? Because you love him. And you’re planning to leave? Are you truly that stupid? That insane?

“God, I love your laugh,” he murmured, a second before reclaiming her lips with his.

The kiss stole her breath, in exactly the way a kiss should. Her entire body melted into a puddle of blissful pleasure, her tummy knotted. An aching need filled her nipples and her breasts grew heavy and round with need.

As if aware of her body’s desire, he skimmed his fingers down the column of her throat, over her collarbone, the swell of her breasts, until he came to the taut points of her nipples straining against the cotton of her shirt.

She whimpered into his mouth as he brushed each one with a stroke of his thumb. Shards of wet heat shot through her, sinking into her belly and the junction of her thighs.

He teased her nipples again, a gentle caress that both drove her crazy and impatient with lust.

“Suck them…” she rasped, arching her spine. “I want to feel your mouth on my—”

He didn’t let her finish her demand.

Without a word, he moved on the blanket, pressing her to her back as he tugged her shirt up over her ribcage to reveal her breasts.

The warm morning air kissed her bare flesh a second before Matt released the front clasp of her bra, parted the soft lace cups and then settled his weight between her thighs and captured her right nipple with his lips.

“Oh, yes,” she moaned, clinging to his shoulders. Her pussy throbbed. So did her clit, the fresh rush of pleasure turning it to a tiny button of sensitive heat.

Matt feasted on her nipple, pulses of suction interspersed with gentle nips of his teeth. She moaned again, arching her spine to rub the curve of her sex against the flat plane of his abs.

He moved his mouth to her other breast, drawing the puckered point of her left nipple deeply into his mouth, pinching her right one with his fingers and thumb as he did so.

“Oh God, that feels so good.” She scraped her nails over his shoulders, his triceps, her stare roaming the lightening dawn sky.

He continued to worship her breasts, one then the other, bringing her close to the edge of orgasmic eruption each time before alternating again. Tash writhed beneath him on the quilted blanket, wrapping her thighs around his hips. She drove her hips upward, needing to grind her clit to his body. To relieve some of the building pressure in her sex in any way she could. If she didn’t, she’d come right there and then.

And she didn’t want to come until he was inside her.

Didn’t want to tumble over the edge without him.

“You have the most incredible boobs,” he declared against her breast, the stubble on his chin an exquisite caress on her flesh. “So full and round and made for my mouth and hands.”

To prove his point, he covered one with his palm and kneaded it, sucking on the nipple of the other with a savage intensity.

Pain and pleasure flooded Tash’s body, an intoxicating mix that made her cry out.

Matt growled, the sound more masculine and arrogantly possessive than any she’d heard him make before. It detonated something carnal and primitive in her, a tight urgency to be possessed and claimed by him.

Shifting on the blanket, she ground her sex to his body again. “Matt…” Her pussy throbbed, wet and tingling with mounting pleasure.

Once again, he knew what she wanted without direction.

Dragging his lips from her breasts, he charted a path down her belly, to her navel. He lingered there, exploring the shallow dip with his tongue as he moved his hands to the waistband of her jeans.

A fleeting second later, her Levis were undone.

Barely a breath after that, he stripped them completely from her legs.

She whimpered her approval, her breath little but shallow pants as he tossed her jeans aside.

“Did I tell you,” he murmured, watching his hands smooth up the inside of her thighs to spread her legs wider, “that I spent hours and hours picturing the way you’d look out of those jeans?”

She shook her head, the confession awakening a wanton thrill in the pit of her belly.

“Hours. Whole nights were spent imagining what your arse, what
this
—” he feathered his fingertips over the moist seam of her pussy lips, his nostrils flaring, “—would look like.”