Leaping Hearts (19 page)

For all the tension he showed, she thought, they could have just been talking about the weather. The look he gave her, however, said they’d finish the conversation later.

“Sure ’nuff.” With a stretch of his jaws, Chester polished off the rest of his lunch. “But ya need two of ’em to really curb the hunger.”

“I’d be careful,” Devlin said, taking his keys out. “We’re going to have to airlift you to a trauma center if you keep eating like this. One day you’re going to explode from the extremes. Too regimented during the morning, a wild man after noon.”

“Stomach a’ steel an’ the will to match,” the man said, patting himself. “Could live on nails an’ rubber bands if I had to.”

“You may be already,” Devlin muttered. “God only knows what they make those things out of.”

After an awful ride home during which A.J. and Devlin sat in silence and Chester snored, the three worked together to unload the stallion and return the tack and supplies to their
proper places. It was still midafternoon by the time Chester left the stables, and A.J. regarded the remaining daylight with dismay. She was anxious to talk to Devlin and get the conversation over with but scared he was going to make her leave.

Devlin had already returned to the farmhouse when A.J. started to clean her tack, and after she was done, she went in search of him. She was dreading the thought of having to stay somewhere else. The idea that she wouldn’t have a ready excuse to sit down and have dinner across the table from him every night or see him in the morning over coffee made her ache. Even if she couldn’t be with him, she needed to be around him.

As soon as A.J. put her hand on the front doorknob, he opened the door. His hair was still wet from the shower and he’d changed into a pair of black slacks and a black shirt. He looked dangerously handsome as he shrugged into a leather jacket.

“I’m going out,” he told her.

“Will you be back for dinner?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I wanted to finish our conversation.”

She watched him stiffen and knew he was feeling as conflicted as she was. It was obvious in his preoccupied expression and the way he wouldn’t look her in the eye.

“A.J., I need some time to think. I want to do the right thing by you. I really do.”

“And what’s the right thing?”

“To stay away from you. To be your teacher and your trainer and your friend. To support you unconditionally as you reach for your goal.”

“But you want me to go.”

His eyes became fierce. “Having you leave is the last thing I want. All I want is you.”

He closed the distance between them and pulled her against him. She could feel his body, hot and throbbing, and his eyes roamed over her with a hunger she found thrilling.

“I can’t get you out of my thoughts,” he said. “I’m consumed by the need to be with you. I
feel
you in my dreams
and wake up aching when you’re not there. I don’t want you to go. I want you in my bed. I want to be in you.”

“So take me.”

Their lips met in a blaze of passion and she welcomed the invasion of his tongue, matching his urgency with her own. His mouth moved hungrily over hers, demanding what she was all too ready to give him, and in response, she pressed her body against his, her breasts straining for his touch, her hips welcoming the rigid length of his need. Underneath her hands, his chest was a solid wall that housed a pounding heart and she thrilled at the knowledge she was the object of his passion. As they kept kissing, she was aching, aching at her very core, to have the ultimate union with him. He was a fever in her blood, the sole cause and only relief for her longing.

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted a woman before,” he moaned against her mouth. “More than I’ve wanted anything.”

His kisses rained down on the skin of her neck and she gripped his shoulders, scratching into the leather of his jacket. She wanted him to go further, to rip off her clothes and press her down onto the couch. She wanted him naked against her skin, thrusting deep inside her and making her feel the burning pleasure until she screamed his name.

But then he slowed down and soon he was pulling away. With a tender motion, he stroked her cheek. His hand was shaking.

“This is dangerous,” he said softly. “This heat between us…I can’t be rational when I’m so attracted to you.”

“I don’t want you to be rational.”

“You’re going to need me to be. Sometime, in the course of getting to the Qualifier or when you’re in the throes of it, you’re going to need me to be there for you in a way that’s strictly professional. The problem is, I can’t think clearly because I’m consumed by the need to have you.”

“We can make it work.”

“No, we can’t.”

“Are you saying it’s either you or the Qualifier? Either we live apart or you won’t train me?”

To Devlin, her eyes were pools of need and her body an
aching torment for him, everything he wanted but was determined to deny himself. He could feel her breasts pressing against his chest, her hips as they fit into his, the passion that swirled in the air between them. His will, slipping away again, told him to put his mouth down on hers. He wanted more of her honey, more of that intoxication that was for him better than any drink.

Deliberately, painfully, he stepped back from her.

“I don’t think I can hold back anymore. I can’t have you in this house and walk into the bathroom after you’ve bathed and smell that lavender in the mist. I can’t toss and turn in my bed alone, wanting you. I can’t keep going like this and I hate myself for it.” He zipped up his jacket with a sharp, frustrated movement. “What I’m saying is that I can be your lover or your trainer. And I need you to choose.”

Devlin looked at her for a moment, tracing over the lines of her face with eyes that were conflicted and sad. Then he stepped out of the house and went down to his truck. She watched him get in and drive down the dirt lane until he disappeared into the curve of the woods.

It was a long time before A.J. could shut the door. She was willing him to come back and take her into his arms and tell her she didn’t have to pick between her passion for him and her drive to compete. But she knew he wouldn’t.

With a heavy heart, she put her jacket on its lonely peg and was careful not to look at the empty space where Devlin’s usually hung. Wandering around in a daze, unable to confront the decision she was being forced to consider, she eventually went into the kitchen to lose herself in cooking. It was the only thing she could think of doing in a house that had no TV, no magazines, and books only on carpentry and baseball.

She decided to make lasagna, figuring it would be straightforward. With no cookbooks to consult, she knew it was best to keep it simple. After all, how hard could it be to layer noodles and sauce in a pan and throw it in the oven?

It was a prophetic thought. Between her lack of know-how and a preoccupied mind, she turned the kitchen into a combat zone in less than an hour. She burned the canned
sauce while heating it up and the noodles congealed into something close to Spackle when she forgot to take them out on time. After she started cramming the mess into a pan, she discovered there was no mozzarella. With dubious genius, she substituted sour cream, clumping it on the top in big scoops.

Looking at the finished product, she almost threw it out but she’d come too far to back down and had hopes that something magical would happen in the oven. Heat didn’t improve the situation. When smoke came pouring out, on account of her having turned the knob to
broil
instead of
bake
, she took out the monster and recognized it for the nightmare it was.

She was Dr. Frankenstein, maker of horrors, A.J. thought, looking at the pan. But at least it had killed an hour.

After laying the hideous creation to rest in the compost heap out back, she returned to the kitchen and surveyed the tornado path of her efforts. Cleanup was going to be an involved project. While A.J. was wiping off sauce from the refrigerator, and wondering how she had managed to get it on its far side, she realized how much she was used to having Devlin around. The house seemed more than empty without him.

How could she be so attracted to the one person in her life who was off-limits?

He was an intoxicating man physically but there was more to it than that. During the past two weeks, she’d felt supported in a way she’d never been before. Always fiercely independent, she was someone who didn’t share her inner fears easily, and yet, confronted with Devlin’s strength, she’d found a way to be vulnerable. And he offered her a wealth of comfort. There seemed to be no end to what he would do for her.

With their common goal of getting her to the Qualifier on the stallion and the passion they had for each other, they connected in every way possible: professionally, physically, emotionally. It made sense.

Unlike her attempts at Italian cooking.

Getting down on her knees, A.J. began to corral the basil she’d spilled under the table onto a piece of scrap paper.

Except now she had to pick.

As a trainer, Devlin was superlative. Patient, exacting when he had to be, constantly supportive, an expert. As a lover? Well, she hadn’t had the full experience but she imagined he’d be unlike any man on the planet. His touch over her skin, the way he moved against her, those strong arms…Everything pointed at pure, unadulterated bliss.

She went to get off the floor and smacked her head into the table.

Rubbing the sore spot as she gingerly got to her feet, she was grateful for the pain in a ridiculous way. It gave her something else to think about for a moment.

By the time A.J. finished cleaning up, the kitchen was sparkling and the smell of burned tomatoes and sour cream had been aired out of the house. Satisfied, she sat down at the table and rested her chin on her hands. Even if she was still a mess, at least something had been cleaned up.

After sitting for a while, she realized she was hungry but uninspired so she ended up having canned soup for dinner. Remembering what she’d done to the tomato sauce, she put on the stove timer while heating it up. Having already been through one olfactory nightmare, she didn’t want to know what toasted chicken and rice smelled like.

While she was eating, every sound, every murmur from the house, had her looking to the door, wondering if it was Devlin getting home. Hope and anxiety would spike in a rush and then abate, only to send her flying again when she heard another noise. It was an exhausting ride because the farmstead, like an old man with rickets, had a lot of creaks, and pretty soon she decided she knew why dogs slept all the time. Sentry duty was tougher than it looked.

As things got dark outside, A.J. settled on the couch, curling her legs up under her and pulling a throw blanket across her knees. She was looking out over the moon-drenched landscape, tracing the rails of the paddocks and the ring with restless eyes, when she made up her mind.

She couldn’t choose. More to the point, she decided she wouldn’t choose between the lover she wanted and the trainer she needed. They would make it work and that was that. And as for Devlin’s concerns, she would just explain to
him how important he was on all the different levels he touched her life. She would make him understand. She just had to. And surely he’d appreciate her reasoning. After all, if she was picking anything, she was picking him. All of him.

Relieved, she fell asleep, and when she woke up, he was standing over her.

“What time is it?” she asked, glad he was home.

“Late.”

A.J. sat up, pushing her hair back from her face.

Against Devlin’s better judgment, he sat on the couch next to her. He wanted to know what she’d decided before he got too close. If she picked him as a trainer, he’d have to leave the room quickly before he did something they’d both regret.

Before he could ask for her answer, she said sleepily, “I’ve made up my mind. I want you. I need you. That’s all I know.”

His eyes darkened with need.

“Kiss me,” she said.

“I’
VE WANTED
this so badly,” he said, just before they kissed.

Devlin swallowed her sigh as their mouths came together. When he became breathless, he broke the commandment of her lips and buried his face in her neck as he sought to recover.

He needed more, so much more. Licking the outline of her lips, because he couldn’t get enough of the taste of her, he pulled back and shed his coat, flinging it to the ground. As it flew away, the jacket took with it the wall of self-control he’d built and tried to sustain over the past weeks. Crumbling like sand, its absence left him naked and at the mercy of his passions and, as he felt her pull him down on the couch against her, he shuddered with a need so great he thought he was going to be lost.

A.J. was also overwhelmed with anticipation. Running her hands over his shoulders and to the front of his shirt, she sought the buttons that were keeping his skin from her touch. She knew there was no turning back and didn’t care about anything except the stiff anticipation of his body and the way his hands felt traveling over her skin. Her world receded until her only reality was the weight of him over her, the delicious slide of his lips across her collarbone, his teeth as he nipped at her earlobe. Urgently, her hands fumbled with his shirt, ripping cloth as she struggled to get to the skin of his back. Her voice called his name hoarsely.

She watched as Devlin tore the shirt from his body and then
wrenched up her own. She felt cool air tickling her skin and helped him free it, letting it fall into the heap that was growing as more of their clothes were tossed aside. She felt wanton and liberated, revealed not exposed, and all she wanted was to feel him seeking the heat at her core with the shaft that throbbed at his hips.

When her breasts were bare to his eyes, Devlin sucked in his breath. She was resplendent with her hair spilling over her satin skin, her lips full and bloodred from his kisses, the salmon pink tips of her nipples peaked with invitation. With delicious anticipation, he brought his mouth to her breast, tugging at the hard marble nub until she writhed under him. Slowly, he moved his hands down her taut stomach and began to unzip her jeans. Fevered though he was, he didn’t want to rush her, but when she lifted her hips and made it easier for him to free her, he clenched his jaw. With hands that trembled, he slid the pants down over her creamy thighs and then he was stroking her delicate ankles, learning the strength of her calves and finding the sensitive area behind her knees.