Wild Honey (12 page)

“Mmm,” she responded, lulled by his lazy drawl, by the cadence of crickets, the soft night and the faint murmur of the sea in the distance.

“Miz Terhune,” he went on, his voice a husky whisper, “I do believe it’s time, don’t you?”

“Hmm?” She only half heard his words. Eyes closed, her body limp and boneless, she gave herself up to the sensation of those big soothing hands caressing her back and shoulders.

“For this, darlin’,” he breathed, pulling slightly away to cup her head between his hands. His gaze roamed over her features as he gently threaded his fingers through her hair, tilting her face upward.

Her eyes felt heavy-lidded as she forced them open and met his gaze. She watched it search hers for several seconds, then drop to her mouth.

“For this,” he repeated in a smoky whisper, and his mouth lowered and claimed hers.

The kiss was as lazy and unhurried as his voice. His lips were warm and unbelievably soft as they closed over her own. By tiny increments, they grew firmer, and soon he was shaping her mouth, molding it. Pulling her along in a tide of sensual pleasure as unsuspected as it was delicious.

Caught in a sensual haze, she slid her hands upward without thinking, savoring the feel of the rock-hard wall of his chest and its solid masculine strength. Higher now, over the granite curve of pectorals, their smooth surface broken by the flat male nipples that contracted as her fingers passed. Then on to the corded muscles of his neck and shoulders. Here she clung with unsteady hands and heard the approving murmur deep in his throat as he widened his stance and tightened the embrace.

Randi’s awareness focused on the joining of their mouths. His lips continued to shape hers with expert care,
moving, moving, sending her into a long sensual glide toward pleasure she’d never dreamed of. Not from a simple kiss, maybe not from anything.

She felt the first touch of his tongue when it slid along the seam of her lips, and a jolt of pleasure sluiced through her belly and thighs. Something deep inside her tightened, became a yearning need as, with his tongue, he gently traced the shape of her mouth.

She heard herself moan as he nipped at her lower lip with his teeth, then soothed the sensitized flesh with lips and tongue. Deftly he sucked and teased until her own lips parted. Then, ever so lightly, he probed the velvet cave of her mouth with his tongue until she couldn’t help herself and shyly touched the tip of hers to his.

Travis shuddered, surprised by the jolt of hunger this sent to his groin. Hell, what was happening here? It was just a kiss. And he’d kissed dozens of women, most of them a lot more expert than Randi, from what he could tell. He was reacting like a kid on his first date. Was it her inexperience that intrigued him? Maybe, but it didn’t account for the wave of pure lust he was feeling over an uncomplicated kiss. He was hot enough to—’

Whoa, McLean! Chill out. Give yourself time to think, ol’ buddy. Lovely though she be, this isn’t just any woman. This is Matt’s mama, with a world riding on what happens. One wrong step, and you may not get another chance.

Drawing in a breath, he released it slowly, gently disengaged himself and stepped back. But the look on Randi’s face didn’t help. Her features had softened, and as she looked up at him in mild confusion, he could see that her pupils were dilated. And then there was her mouth. God, in some countries he’d been in, a man could go to jail for what he thought of teaching that mouth to do!

Unaware of his thoughts, she chose that moment to run her tongue over her lips. Shutting his eyes to close out the sensual image, he gave a half-audible groan. Damn, but he
wanted her! She was all woman under that icy reserve, though he had a sneaky hunch she didn’t realize it.

“Travis?” The sensual haze was starting to fade, but very slowly; yet Randi knew enough to sense something was bothering him. Doubt nibbled at-the-edges of her mind. Perhaps it was a mistake to—

A whimper issued from the carton on the floor. They both glanced at Ulysses, who was rising awkwardly from the bedding.

“Uh-oh,” Travis said, seeing the pup begin to sniff. He moved quickly to the box and scooped it up, then grinned at Randi. “Time to start the housebreakin’.”

Laughing, she led the way to the front door. Ulysses wasted no time in relieving himself, and they both praised him. Travis picked him up and was holding him against his chest while his eyes went to Randi. “I’ll put him in the car, then come ‘n’ help you clean up.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she told him. “And thanks for the feast.”

“My pleasure, ma’am,” he said softly, and from the way his eyes moved to her mouth, she knew he wasn’t thinking of the clams.

She felt her breathing go shallow. Tried to gather her wits and decide how to answer. Before she could say a word, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Tomorrow night ‘bout eight,” he whispered, his warm breath stirring the hair just above her ear. “Wear somethin’ comfortable.”

Comfortable?
she thought as she watched him head for his car. She doubted if she’d ever use “comfortable” and “Travis” in the same breath.

W
HEN SHE AWOKE THE
next morning, Randi’s first thought was to wonder what Travis had planned for that evening. Would it allow her the chance to learn his long-range plans? After all, that was the only reason she was seeing him, wasn’t it?

In the next instant she decided the worst thing she could do was sit around all day waiting for eight o’clock to arrive. Bad enough that McLean invaded her dreams—he’d made a crazy appearance in them last night. She wasn’t about to let him mess up her daytime hours, too.

Using a chamber-of-commerce guide the rental office had provided, she went antiquing. The home she shared with Jill contained many lovely old treasures they’d inherited from their aunt Tess. The sisters were always hunting for interesting pieces to enhance these furnishings. Jill even had a bumper sticker that read, “This Vehicle Stops for Antique Shops.”

The morning passed quickly as Randi wandered through more than a dozen shops. She came across many fine antiques she couldn’t afford, but that was par for the course. Among these was a wonderful mermaid weathervane she’d have loved to buy for Jill and David as a wedding gift. She sighed, regretting just this once the need to shop within her modest budget. Giving the weathervane a last lingering look, she told herself she’d find something affordable back home. Meanwhile, the browsing was fun.

Then, just as she was leaving the last shop before preparing
to head back, she spied a red-and-white quilt in the schoolhouse pattern. About a hundred years old and in good condition, it was pricey, but not exorbitant. Deciding it would be perfect on a wall in Matt’s room, she bought it.

On the way back she stopped at a small roadside eatery and treated herself to a lunch of crabcakes, an Eastern Shore specialty. They were delicious, yet she found herself thinking she preferred her crabs prepared like those they’d caught with Travis. They’d eaten them steamed, with lemon and drawn butter. She recalled how Matt had gone on and on about the crabbing expedition as she’d gotten him ready for his trip to Disney World.

She frowned.
Admit it, Terhune,
she told herself irritably.
It wasn’t just the crabbing he enthused about. It was the man who organized it!

That she currently found herself succumbing to a similar phenomenon—she wryly dubbed it “Travis on the Brain”—didn’t sit well with her. She’d been hoping Matt would get over his fascination with McLean by the time he returned; but what use was that if
she
was preoccupied with the man?

Determined to concentrate on her R and R, she returned to the cottage and went for a swim. After an hour or so in the water, she decided to remain on the beach until suppertime. Slathering on sunscreen, she stretched out on her towel and took in the scene around her.

Sunlight glinted off the water under a cloudless sky so blue it almost hurt the eyes to look at it. At the water’s edge, several -children shrieked and romped in the surf. About a dozen people lounged nearby, and all were families she recognized by now, with young children.

Two-parent families, every one of them.

She heaved a sigh. It wasn’t as if single-parent families weren’t common in today’s world. The media were full of stories about single mothers. Fathers, too. Just her luck the
particular vacation spot she’d chosen didn’t have any in evidence. Besides her, of course.

Her interest in the beach gone, she trudged back to the cottage. Next year, she promised herself, she’d do a little more research when planning a getaway; maybe there was a resort that catered to single parents with kids.

Back at the cottage she realized she felt drowsy. All that sun and surf, she thought, frowning when a tenderness on her shoulders told her she’d gotten a slight burn. Grinning to herself between yawns as she showered, she decided to take a nap. A nap, right in the middle of the afternoon! She hadn’t considered such an idea in years.

There were definite advantages to having some time to yourself, she decided. And when that nagging inner voice suggested that mothers in two-parent families probably had a lot more, she ignored it.

As she stepped from the shower, Jill called, sounding excited. “Randi, are you sitting down? I just came across a piece of information that knocked my socks off.”

“What?” Randi asked, reaching for her robe and stifling a yawn.

“Not what,
who!”

Randi was too sleepy to manage much enthusiasm. She barely squelched another yawn as she tied the thin cotton robe in place. “Who, then?”

“Your son’s granddad, that’s who!”

Randi came wide awake. “How do you know—”

“Just listen,” Jill broke in. “David picked up some of the local papers this morning, and the features section of the
Miami Herald
just happened to be running a story on a medical convention in Miami this week. There was an article on the keynote speaker. Seems he’s a worldrenowned heart surgeon from Virginia.”

“Go on.” Randi was fully alert now. She remembered what Travis had told her about the surgeon father who’d had no time for his children. Was this the man?

“Well,” Jill said, “the article included the guy’s professional background, highlights from an illustrious career in medicine, that sort of thing. It also gave some family background. His name’s Dr. Trent
McLean,
Randi. He’s gotta be Matt’s granddad because the article mentioned a wife and three children—one, a son named Travis. A world-famous heart surgeon, and he’s Matt’s granddad!”

“Let’s skip the ‘granddad’ bit, okay?” Randi said. “‘Biological grandfather’ will do if we must discuss it at all, but that’s as far as I go.”

“Picky, picky,” Jill teased, to which Randi gave a noncommittal grunt. Granddads, in her mind, were pleasant white-haired old gentlemen who, if you were lucky enough to have one, occupied a warm comforting place in a kid’s life. She’d never known her own grandparents, who died before she and Jill were born, but she knew how it was supposed to work.

Granddads were backups for dads. They did stuff like helping kids build model airplanes and taking them fishing, or told wonderful stories about what it was like in the old days. They were
not
doctor celebrities who’d probably never built a model airplane in their lives. And they most definitely were not old-money aristocrats who’d never had time for their own sons, let alone grandsons.

The noncommittal grunt was followed by a guttural sound of disgust.

“Hmm,” Jill mused, “sounds as if I got you at a bad time. It isn’t like you to be grumpy in the middle of the afternoon. What’s the matter, sis? This is your hard-earned vacation. You’re supposed to be enjoying it.”

Randi assured her she was, explaining about being tired from the full day she’d had. She went on to describe the quilt, which her sister couldn’t wait to see. She made Jill promise not to mention it to Matt, so he’d be surprised.

“You realize, don’t you, that a four-year-old won’t care beans about its antique status,” Jill told her. “You’d better
pick up some terrific plastic neon junk gizmos, as well, kiddo, if you know what’s good for you.”

Randi chuckled. “Okay, okay. But I bet you and David’ve already loaded Matt down with plenty. Duly emblazoned with cartoon logos from mouse country.”

“Better believe it. In every color, from hot fuchsia to psychedelic yellow.”

Randi laughed again, her tiredness forgotten. Jill often did that for her, and the reverse was also true. They were a terrific team.
We may not be able to boast any famous granddads, but in the sister/aunt department, we do okay.

“I don’t suppose you’ve had time to come up with anything on the, uh, research front?” Jill’s change of topic was uttered casually, but Randi heard an eagerness behind it.

“You don’t suppose right,” she quipped, “but tune in tomorrow, same time, same station. Maybe I’ll have something for you.” She went on to explain about her eighto’clock date, then wanted to kick herself for calling it a date.

“Saturday night at eight, huh?” murmured her sister. “Sounds interesting. Better wear that slinky new-”

“Forget it, sis. The object here is to find out what he wants, not keep him hanging around for, uh, whatever.”

“Hmm,” Jill murmured cryptically, then changed the subject again. “How’s the weather up there?”

“Great for the beach. Hot, not a cloud in sight.”

“Hah! You don’t know hot until you’ve been in Florida in July. But listen, Randi. David was watching the weather channel, and—”

She broke off, saying, “Hold on, sis. It’s the guys. They’re back from their pig-out at the ice-cream parlor. Here, Matt, say hello to your mom.”

“Hi, Mom!” Matt’s voice bubbled with energy. “Wait’ll ya hear what
we
been doin’!”

Randi grinned as she listened to her son’s excited description of the gooeyest ice-cream sundae ever invented.
He sounded like he was having a ball. He went on to describe his morning, which included an encounter with Goofy and then Mickey himself.

“He sure is big for a mouse, Mom. So’s Goofy, but he’s a dog. I wish
we
had a dog, even if it couldn’t be big as Goofy. He’s ‘most as tall as Travis.”

Wincing, Randi manage an enthusiastic “Wow!”

“Yeah, wait’ll you see! We got pitchers ‘n’ everything.”

“Pictures, huh?” said Randi, storing away his words about a dog and thinking of Ulysses. She said nothing to Matt about Travis’s pup of course, but promised herself to give it more thought. “Shots of you with Goofy and Mickey?”

“Yeah, an’ lots of stuff. Boy, this place is great! We saw Princess Jasmin ‘n’ Aladdin ‘n’ ‘Ventureland ‘n’…”

Listening to her son’s breathless recounting of Disney World sights, Randi wished she was with him. Still, she told herself as they said goodbye, it was important that Matt could enjoy himself apart from her, wasn’t it?

So why did their conversation leave her feeling so bereft? she wondered as she stretched out on the bed. With the phone call behind her, tiredness washed over her again. The last thing she remembered thinking as she drifted off was that maybe she ought to set her alarm, but she’d just close her eyes for a minute first…

T
RAVIS FROWNED
when he knocked on Randi’s door for the third time and no one answered. Dammit, where was she? And why weren’t there any lights on in the place? It was a little after eight and nearly dark. Had she forgotten?

The frown became a scowl. Forgotten, or had she decided to stand him up?

But her car was still in the drive. Besides, he didn’t see Randi Terhune as the type to cry off without a note or phone call. Too much the proper lady.

He frowned as he considered this. Proper ladies were
hardly his type. They reminded him of his mother, and he’d never been drawn to women who did. Family values were simply not part of the criteria he considered when pursuing romantic interests.

Not that “romantic” was the right word, exactly. “Romantic” implied things like love and commitment, which might work for some guys, though he had his doubts.

An image of his friend Rafe O’Hara with his bride, Francesca, flashed in his mind. Okay, maybe romantic love happened. Maybe it even worked once in a blue moon for a rare few. But for him? No thanks. Give him a casual liaison with a woman who’d been around, any day. A mature woman who knew the score and didn’t expect hearts and flowers by the third kiss. Or, God forbid, a ring on her finger.

Glancing at the packages under his arm, he scowled. So why was he standing here in front of her door, holding…

Muttering something no proper lady would approve of, he shifted the packages in his arm and banged on the door. Loud enough to wake the dead, but he didn’t care. If she didn’t answer this time, something was wrong, and he was just in the mood to—

“Travis, ‘zat you?” came a groggy voice from inside.

Finally.
“Who else?” he asked testily. “Unless you’ve made two dates for tonight. Randi, what’s wrong? I’ve been knockin’ since—”

The door swung open. “Oh, I’m really sorry,” Randi said. “I just meant to—”

“Hey, are you okay?” Travis gave her face and wrinkled robe a quick perusal. She didn’t really look sick, which had been his first thought. Her face had a rosy flush which he could see by the hall light she’d thrown on. And the rest of her was…something else.

She looked kittenish and sexy, with her golden hair tangled softly around her face and tumbling over her shoulders that way. Yeah, and good enough to gobble up whole.

“‘Fraid I took a nap,” she said sheepishly. “I meant to set the alarm, but…” She gave an awkward shrug, then stifled a yawn.

“No harm done, sugar,” he said softly. He couldn’t resist reaching out and tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear. Unable to help himself, he let his fingers linger there, savoring the textures of her.

Which might have been a mistake. The silky feel of her hair sliding through his fingers, not to mention the petalsoft skin of her neck, sent an unexpected message to his groin. The way she looked, the elusive scent of her, all muzzy and warm from sleep…God almighty! She was doing things to his body that no proper lady would welcome. Not at this point, at any rate. Later…well, he’d wait and see.

At his touch, Randi felt something curl and unwind deep inside. Never entirely alert when she first awakened, she responded with the unthinking reaction of someone still half-asleep. She didn’t examine what she was doing, just swayed toward the source of that delicious pleasure.

Tucking her head to one side like a cat wanting to be stroked, she leaned into Travis’s warmth. Until she felt those strong yet gentle fingers graze her cheek. Until he cupped it and she found herself turning her mouth into his palm and pressing her lips against his flesh.

Travis’s breath caught in his throat. She was soft and warm and all things female. Arousingly female. Dammit, he was getting hard again, but arousing female or no, he knew this wasn’t the time to do something about it.

“Lord, kitten,” he murmured, his voice low and husky as he let the packages he’d been holding slide to the floor. He raised the hand this freed, threading his fingers through her hair. He was more aware than ever of its silken texture, of the heady scent and feel of her. “You’re just about the softest thing this side of heaven.”