Elusive Echoes (18 page)

"Careful, big boy. Easy." Sean stepped back,
but kept a firm hold on the lead. From his vantage point, the
horse's seal brown coat was unblemished, if in need of a good
grooming. He followed Sean with a suspicious gaze, his left eye
rolling just a bit.

Mindful of those long, powerful legs, Sean
maneuvered Devil's Advocate toward the stable. His "attendant"
seemed to have vanished.

A movement toward the house caught his
attention and Sean felt a prickle of uneasiness edging into his
awareness. What the devil was Northrop doing lurking near the back
door? A flash of red hair caught Sean's attention. Looked like the
attendant would require some reining in. Northrop had no reason to
be talking to anyone in the family but him. Certainly, the weasel
had no business with Ricky.

Taking advantage of Sean's distraction,
Devil's Advocate snorted, then squealed, rearing and lashing out
with a solitary kick of his forefoot. Only Sean's sense of
connection with horses in general kept him from panic.

He pulled the horse's head sideways and
down, firmly bringing Devil's Advocate back under control. Keeping
the big horse's head tilted downward and to the side, Sean
convinced him to stay on all four legs. The horse would only pick
up on any angst, so he forced an outward calm though his heart
raced.

"Okay, bud. That was my warning. I get it."
His complete attention on the horse, Sean got him into the stable
and turned him in to the waiting stall. He let out a slow breath as
he unclipped the lead.

As soon as Devil's Advocate was off the
lead, he moved to one of the rear corners of the big box stall.
Sunlight slanted through the window, falling across the center of
the space but he avoided it. Devil's Advocate protected his right
side, keeping it against the rear of the enclosure and sticking to
the shadow.

Sean slid the door closed, not so much to
protect himself from the horse but to provide a greater sense of
security for the scared animal. He stood quietly for a while, just
watching. Gradually, Devil's Advocate began to calm. He snuffled
his way around the box and checked out his surroundings. Good. He
was interested in living.

"I can't keep calling you Devil's Advocate,
dude. It's just too long." Sean leaned against the door, refusing
to consider the obvious choice of shortening the name to Devil.

"Why don't you call him Dev?" Mel's soft
voice floated over him. Instantly, Sean's nerve endings tingled
with delicious anticipation.

He didn't move, just kept watching the
horse. "Dev, huh? How about that, big guy? Seems easy enough."

She lingered in the doorway, obviously
unwilling to disrupt his concentration. Sean signaled her to come
closer, and she inched forward, stopping an arm's length away from
him.

"He's beautiful," she whispered. "But so
sad."

"Yeah, the kind of pain he's had'll do
that." Sean turned, his gaze falling on Mel and he felt an instant
rush of heat. She still took his breath away. Every time he saw her
it was like looking at her for the first time all over again. She'd
left her pale blonde hair free the way he liked it best, and his
fingers twitched with the desire to bury themselves in all that
sunshine. A thin, plum-colored sweater flowed over her trim figure
and hugged her in the places he wanted to hug.

Melanie's smile swept the shadows from her
face. Her eyes lingered on him for a few heart-stopping moments
before she turned to look at Dev. When he saw her expression change
to one of concern and sadness, Sean followed her gaze.

"Aw, man." With his stomach in his throat,
emotions welled for this great animal's pain. "He should have been
put down when this happened."

Dev's entire right side was the exact
opposite of his flawless left side. Much of his hide, from his
shoulder to his flank had been burned off, replaced now by whitened
scar tissue. A smaller scar covered most of his right hindquarter.
His neck also bore evidence of scarring.

Sean estimated roughly a third of the colt's
total skin had suffered deep burns. He swallowed hard against the
lump in his throat.

"Why didn't they?"

Sean gritted his teeth as he absorbed the
animal's pain and terror. "Greed. He was a winner, and winners
breed winners. Though why they didn't just put him down and take
the insurance payout, I don't know. He must have been insured
against the loss of future race earnings and future stud fees." He
rubbed his jaw, trying to put it together. "For some reason,
they're laying out a huge amount of money on the chance I can help
him so they can send him to stud." He shrugged. "The longer they
can keep him alive, the more they can get in stud fees. But they
need him to be happy and amenable to mating, which means no pain
and no anxiety. They can't take a chance he'll hurt the mares."

"Artificial insemination?"

Sean shook his head. "Not allowed."

Mel made soft clucking noises that Dev
responded to with small twitches of his ears. "Why don't they just
sedate him for mating?"

Sean chuckled, casting her a sidelong
glance. "The kind of tranqs he probably needs, it'd be like asking
me to perform after giving me Valium and a bottle of whiskey.

Mel giggled then licked her lips
suggestively. "Yeah, well, don't take this wrong, but I don't think
I want to see what that's like. I kind of like the Energizer Bunny
version of you from last night."

Everything Sean had been thinking was
suddenly lost as all the blood left his brain for a trip south of
the equator. "Okay. New rule. No talking dirty in the stable."

"That wasn't dirty." Mel's smile turned
vaguely catlike. "Dirty would be if I said come to my place
and—"

Sean clapped a hand over Mel's mouth. He
kept it that way while he walked her backwards out of the
stable.

"
You
are a distraction." He pressed
her against the outer wall of the stable with his body. Her pale
blue eyes widened, then lit with passion. Sean removed his hand
from her mouth and replaced it with his lips.

****

Embers flamed instantly, his initial burst
of passion animated by her nuclear response. The kiss was deep,
hot, and wet. As they both lost themselves in it, the embrace
became just a little rough. And she liked that a lot. When he
pulled back, Sean's eyes were twin points of green fire. Mel moaned
and wound her arms around his neck, pulling him back to her.

He tried to break the kiss,
and she sank her teeth lightly into his bottom lip.
Oh no you don't, mister.

He moaned from deep in his throat. His mouth
lingered but he eased his body away from hers. Finally he retreated
and she allowed him to do so. "I'll be at your place for a private
dinner tonight. Be waiting for me?"

Mel followed him off the wall, but carefully
kept her distance. Was it possible for someone to erupt into flames
from the heat of a kiss? She slipped her key ring from the pocket
of her jeans and removed a key. "Here."

"What's this?"

"The spare key to my apartment. Let yourself
in and I'll have . . . dinner . . . waiting for you."

He inhaled sharply and deeply, his eyes
taking on a smoky appearance. "Is six o'clock too early?"

Chapter Eleven

Sean was late. For years he'd been careful
to check and double check stalls and occupants, set locks and
alarms. He'd never resented taking care of the horses he owned or
those he was rehabbing. But today his job had made him later than
he cared to be, and getting to Mel's place had become his single
goal. He arrived, breathless and excited, and feeling like a
hormone-ridden teenager with his libido doing somersaults through
his system. He glanced at his watch; forty-five minutes late.

The dinner Mel had promised might be burnt
by now, and as Sean slid his key into the lock, he wondered if he'd
get any dessert. He pushed the door open and his mouth watered
instantly. But it was a toss-up whether it was because of the smell
of food infusing the air, or the sight of Mel lounging on the foot
of her bed wearing a form-fitting corset in hot pink satin over a
black leather miniskirt and black lace stockings with—have mercy,
five-inch stiletto heels in the same shade of pink as the
corset.

His mouth fell open and he
dropped his hastily packed duffel bag on the floor with a
thunk
. "Honey, I'm
home."

****

"I went up to Jackson and did a little
shopping today." Smiling, Mel slid one foot along the edge of the
bed in what she hoped was a suggestive manner. "I found a
sale."

Sean stood rooted by the door. When he
spoke, his voice was hoarse. "I feel like I should want to come
over there and peel you out of that, but you look so good . . . I
just want to stay here awhile and enjoy looking at you."

His words sent little darts of anticipation
to all the right places. She shifted, trying to ease the ache for
his touch.

Her movements seemed to break the spell he
was under. Sean crossed the room in two paces, dropping to the bed
and sprawling on top of her. Laughing out loud, he rolled them over
in one easy movement. "I've been thinking about you since you left
the ranch earlier. You're making me crazy for you."

Mel giggled and rubbed her cheek against
Sean's. "I thought shopping would calm me down but all I could look
at was lingerie and that only made it worse. The more things I
bought, the more I thought about you, and . . . wearing them for
you."

"Lingerie?" He almost choked. "H-how much
did you buy?"

She winced. "A few days' worth."

Sean inhaled sharply. "You shouldn't say
things like that." He rolled them again so he ended up on top,
supporting himself on his forearms. She touched her tongue to her
lips; his breathing grew ragged. He pulled her lower lip into his
mouth and sucked gently, released her, then settled his lips
against hers for a heated, toe-curling kiss. When their gazes
locked, the tenderness in his eyes made her sigh.

"Sean." Mel brushed the back of her hand
along his cheek. "Thank you."

His half-smile was warm. "For?"

"For loving me so well."

"Oh, darlin', you make that easy to do." His
lips lingered, planting butterfly kisses between each word he
spoke. "Melanie Grace Mitchell soon-to-be McGee, I love you so very
much. You're the only person who makes my world right."

She shuddered as the intensity of his words
embraced her. Mel traced her fingertip along the edge of Sean's
ear. "I get all caught up with you and I don't even care." She slid
her hand around behind his head and urged him down again, meeting
his lips for a kiss she felt in her soul.

His caresses were slow, tender strokes, full
of lingering and yearning that enhanced her own feelings of
longing. With a deep sigh, Sean drew back and hauled himself off
Mel's bed.

"What are you doing?"

"I love you, Mel."

"I love you, too." She patted the empty
space next to her. "I'm getting cold."

"Mel, we're doing it all backward." Sean
swallowed hard. "The next time we make love, I want you to be my
wife."

Mel's breath caught. With anyone else, that
might have been perceived as a rejection. But this was Sean, her
loveable, loving, very careful Sean. And Mel realized his caring
nature was one of the things she loved most about him.

She sat up, feeling a huge grin spreading
across her face. "So, which one of us is getting the couch?"

****

They ate dinner on the sofa, in front of
Mel's tiny, ancient TV set. She amused Sean by tuning in to a
child's Halloween marathon with nearly as much enthusiasm as she
approached kissing him. But that was his Mel. Everything with her
was about life and living it all out. Having changed into a pair of
oversized plaid flannel PJ pants and a long dark T-shirt, Mel now
more closely resembled the childhood pal Sean remembered and he
smiled.

"How did you know one of my favorite dinners
was roast chicken?" Sean swirled a piece of biscuit through some
gravy and put it in his mouth. The subtle flavors teased across his
palate as he chewed.

Mel sat beside him on the sofa, cross-legged
and facing in his direction. She lifted a shoulder and smiled
shyly. "I just imagined it would be anything but beef. Like chicken
farmers probably get their fill of chicken."

Sean's laughter came easily. He finished his
last bite of dinner and stood, snagged her plate and tucked it on
top of his, and then walked to the kitchenette. "No
dishwasher?"

She chuckled. "Like there's room for one.
Dishes get done the old-fashioned way here."

Sean turned on the water and began filling
the dish pan. He checked under the sink and scored some dish
soap.

"What are you doing?"

He squirted a measure of soap into the pan,
watched it bubble and foam, and answered without looking up. "Doing
dishes the old-fashioned way."

Mel approached from behind, slid her arms
around his waist and laid her head between his shoulder blades.
"You realize I can never let you go now, right? I mean, you do
dishes, probably even take out the trash."

He turned around in her arms and cupped her
face, searching her eyes and finding all he'd ever need in them. He
dipped his head and gave her a quick, hard kiss. "Then my plan's
working."

With a grin, Sean deposited a handful of
foam on her nose, ducking when Mel scooped up her own handful.
White foam landed on the cabinet door behind him. But she was quick
and another handful landed on top of his head. So he gave her a
white foam goatee.

Laughing so hard that tears formed in her
eyes, Mel held out her hands in surrender. Just as Sean was ready
to declare himself the winner, she leaned in and nuzzled her face
against his, spreading foam across both his cheeks. She tossed back
her head and laughed some more.