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Her lips closed over the tip of his penis. He angled

onto his knees, almost knocking her over and grabbed her

shoulders. “I need to get protection. I'll be right back.”

Jenna didn't want to let him go. What if he didn't

return? She smiled, reached out and touched his hardened

nipple. “If you're not back in two minutes flat, I'll come

find you.”

Rye kissed her mouth as if he sensed her

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uncertainty.

****

Rye pulled his jeans on, not bothering to zip them.

He checked to make sure the hall was empty before he

slipped from Jenna's room to his own. His head spun. In

sexual encounters, as in all of life's experiences, he'd been

the one in charge. He'd never lost control. And right now

he was in grave danger of losing more than his control.

Once in his room, he headed for the bathroom and

splashed cold water on his face to cool off, surprised the

water didn't sizzle. Should he return to Jenna or not? He

didn't doubt for a second her threat to come after him.

Jenna Green was one determined lady.

He almost laughed at the irony. Rye Cameron

running away from a woman. What a joke.

God, he'd wanted Jenna from the first. He pushed his

conscience aside, fumbled in the medicine cabinet until he

found some condoms. He should stay away from her. Lock

his door. Maybe get away from the house and go for a

ride. In the end, he did none of those things. He hurried

back to Jenna's room.

“I thought I'd have to come after you,” she said when

he shut the door.

“Not a chance, lady.” He jerked off his shirt, tossed it

on the floor, unsnapped his jeans, stepped out and kicked

them across the room.

Jenna slid to the other side of the bed, making room

for him.

His gaze wandered over her face as he stretched out

beside her. “No doubts?”

“Not a one.” As if proving her point, she pulled him

into her arms and found his mouth.

Heat started in his groin and found its way to his

brain. He couldn't remember wanting a woman this badly.

Could he ever get enough of her? Tomorrow that thought

would scare the shit out of him. Tonight he couldn’t focus

on anything other than this warm, willing woman driving

him crazy. Their tongues danced a tango. Rye grasped her

shoulders.

“Slow down, baby. We've got all night.” Rye smoothed

back the riotous curls from her face. The heavy thud of

her heart beat against his side. Or was that his heart

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thumping? Unlike so many women, there was no pretense

with Jenna. She wanted him with a hunger that

paralleled his own.

Her fingers wandered towards his belly. He grabbed

her hand and flipped her around so she faced away from

him, then cuddled her spoon style.

Rye held her close, savoring her warmth. He cupped

both breasts, and gently teased the nipples until they

stood at attention like the guards at Buckingham Palace.

Soon she stiffened against him, and he knew she was

going to climax. He pulled her onto her back, and slid

inside the welcoming warmth. For a moment, neither of

them moved. Her body contracted around his hardness.

They came in one breathless torrent of heat. Rye drifted

in the euphoric aftermath of his climax, feeling a bit like a

sixteen-year-old kid unable to control himself.

Rye leaned on his elbows, expecting to see regret in

Jenna's eyes. Instead, she held his gaze with what looked

like amazement and a smile on her lips. “Have I told you

how beautiful you are?” he whispered, tracing her lips

with his finger.

“Hmmm.” She squirmed.

He grew hard again. “You're more beautiful with

your clothes off than on. That's not true of most women.”

“Stop talking Cameron and let's get on with it,” she

said, her eyes shimmering with passion.

He got to his knees. Grabbing her hips, he drew her

onto his thighs. He lodged the tip of his penis inside her

wet heat. With a foot on either side of his body, she raised

up, keeping her shoulders on the bed. Rye grasped her

legs and settled them on his shoulders before driving

deep. “Tell me if I hurt you, Jenna,” he managed to croak.

His thumb found her clitoris, and he settled into a

steady rocking rhythm. Jenna went wild beneath him.

Her movements brought him to an immediate climax. He

wasn't alone.

Jenna's legs dropped from his shoulders, and he

collapsed on her soft body. Her hands feathered over the

back of his head and onto his shoulders.

Good going, Cameron. Rule number one broken.

Never stay with a woman after sex. Get off the bed and get

dressed.

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Dead Heat

He didn't want to move. He wanted to lie against

Jenna for as long as he could.

“Rye, I...”

“You what?” he prompted softly, lightly kissing her

mouth.

“Nothing. I should get up, but I don't feel like

moving.”

“Me either.”

****

Rye breathed heavy and deep. She wiggled from

under his body, careful not to wake him, and swung her

feet to the floor. Picking up her nightshirt, she tiptoed to

the bathroom, not surprised that her legs felt like rubber

bands.

Her eyes widened as she looked at herself in the

mirror. Wow! If anyone looked satisfied from lovemaking,

it was her. Her body trembled from the intense

experience.

Thank God, she'd come to her senses in time. A giggle

rose in her throat when she thought about the look of

horror that would have spread over his face if she'd told

Rye she loved him. She'd carry that secret to her grave.

She had some life-altering decisions to make, but they

could wait until tomorrow.

Tonight she’d return to bed and cuddle next to that

hunk of a man under her covers.

She walked silently back to the bedroom. Her heart

plummeted. He was gone.

For a moment she stood paralyzed. What had she

expected? To climb in bed, snuggle, perhaps discuss what

they'd do in the days to come? She was a fool. Rye had

been honest with her. They'd had sex. Good sex. Now it

was over.

Like the one in this room, the storm outside had

subsided. Jenna climbed in bed and sought the warmth

where Rye had lain. She pulled the covers to her chin and

breathed in the scent of their lovemaking and held it close

to her heart. Tears trickled from the corners of her eyes,

and she wept without making a sound. Eventually, she

slept.

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Pam Champagne

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Jenna walked into the dining room, the Oriental rug

muffling the sound of her steps. “Good morning.”

Rye's head snapped around. He grunted and turned

back to the morning paper.

Jenna grinned at his back. What a greeting. If he

expected her to sulk because he'd run out of her room last

night without a word, he was in for a surprise.

“Are you ready to leave?” she asked.

“Yeah. Want a coffee to go?” He spoke without

looking at her.

“Sure. Black, please.”

She greedily watched his hands as he filled a large

Styrofoam cup from a coffee carafe. A few hours ago those

same hands had been all over her body. The memory

brought a twinge of wanting. He put the cup on the table

rather than hand it directly to her.
Afraid to touch me,

Rye?
The devil possessed her. “Last night was great.”

A mouthful of coffee went down the wrong way. He

choked and coughed. She handed him a napkin. Her grin

widened when he shot her a ‘don't go there’ glare.

“At least it was for me.” Grabbing her coffee, she

walked to the door, not bothering to wait for him. Last

night she'd decided Rye Cameron would never know how

hurt she'd been that he'd sneaked out of her bedroom.

Later this morning, she would drop by Charles' barn.

Plans she'd keep to herself. After all, what could happen

in broad daylight with other people milling around?

Rye followed Jenna out of the house, and they walked

to the car a good six feet apart. They climbed in and Rye

started the engine.

After ten minutes of thick silence, Jenna couldn't

stand it. “Are you staying at the track all day?”

Another grunt.

She sighed in exasperation. “Spill it. What's your

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Dead Heat

problem?”

“My problem?” Rye's knuckles whitened as his hands

gripped the steering wheel. “I should be asking you that

question, Miss Sunshine.”

Jenna leaned towards him as far as the seat belt

allowed. “What the hell do you want from me? Should I

rant and rave. Perhaps cry? You told me up front what to

expect. I chose to accept the consequences.”

She faced front again and tried not to clench her

teeth.

“If you're serious, and not playing games, then I am

happy.”

“I don't have time to play games,” she snapped.

From the corner of her eye, she watched his knuckles

turn even whiter. A muscle twitched in the side of his

face. Tension oozed from his body.

He abruptly changed the subject. “What plans do you

have for Tsunami?”

“I'm going to work him soon. Why do you keep asking

me that same question?”

“I'd like to run an idea by you. I'm not telling you

what to do. You're the trainer. If you disagree, then that's

that.”

Her interest peaked. “Go on. I'm all ears.”

“How about we work Tsunami and Rising Sun at the

same time? Break them out of the gate together, and let

them race for six furlongs. A match race of sorts.”

Jenna hid a grin. Man, did he think she was stupid?

He didn't think Rising Sun had stamina. This could be

fun. “Sure. I'll see how both horses are feeling today, and

if all's well, we'll do it tomorrow.”

“You're sure?”

“Yeah. I just hope you're not disappointed in the

outcome.” In actual fact, Jenna didn't care which horse

won. Both were important to her.

Rye's brows pulled together in a scowl, but he kept

quiet. Seemed there was no pleasing this man.

The morning flew by. Jenna didn't have time to

worry about whoever was out to get her. Or think about

the shattering night she'd spent in Rye's arms.

Jamal showed up at work in one of his difficult

moods. She had to tack up Tsunami for Dani, who'd

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Pam Champagne

agreed to gallop Rising Sun as well.

Casey didn't show at all, making them short one

groom. Jenna pitched in and helped groom and walk hots.

A worker not showing up created hassles. A reliable

employee on the racetrack was worth their weight in gold.

While Jenna held Rising Sun and bathed him at the

same time, a flash of something bright at the end of the

barn caught her attention. Rye leaned against the outside

wall, a goofy smile on his face. Maria Gomez, the wife of a

trainer the next barn over, talked to him, using her hands

as well as her mouth. Maria wore a gaudy red peasant

blouse. Good thing no bulls were around. The woman

would be running for her life.

“Jerk,” she muttered, scrubbing Rising Sun so hard

he danced away in protest. She didn't give a rat's ass

what Rye did or who he did it with. To hell with him.

Then why was there a tearing pain in her heart?

A quick glance around the shed told her no hot

walker would be cooling out Rising Sun so she walked

him herself. Coming around the corner where Rye and

Maria fawned over one another, Jenna leaned on the

horse, forcing him to walk close to the couple. Maria

screeched and jumped back, startling Rising Sun. He

skittered sideways.

Jenna's hand on his neck brought him under control.

Peeking over the horse's withers, she met Rye's angry

gaze. His blue eyes narrowed in warning. All right, so

she'd been childish, but damn, it felt good.

All elation deflated when she glanced over her

shoulder. Rye's hand rested on Maria's back as he guided

her into the tack room.

Jenna spotted a hot walker lighting a cigarette. He

probably deserved the break, but she had things to do.

“Hey, Dave,” she called, holding out the shank. “Finish

Rising Sun for me, would you?”

Tsunami was already back in his stall, halter hung

outside. Jenna peeked inside, expecting to find Jamal. No

such luck.

A hand grasped her shoulder roughly. She jerked

from the touch.

“Sorry I'm late.”

She whirled around. “Casey! You startled me.”

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Dead Heat

Although the groom smiled, his eyes remained cold.

“Didn't mean to.” He turned away and busied himself

rolling leg bandages.

“Is something wrong?”

The muscles in his back tensed. His hands stilled.

“No. Why do you ask?”

Jenna chose her words with care. “It's not like you to

be late. I was worried.”

A nonchalant shrug. “I overslept.”

She didn't believe him, but if he was unwilling to

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