Confessions: He's The Rich Boy / He's My Soldier Boy. Lisa Jackson
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The smell of water carried on the wind, and Nadine hurried unerringly to the sandy shore of Whitefire Lake. She grimaced as she considered the old Indian legend that every now and then was whispered in the streets of Gold Creek and wondered if she should stay here until morning, sip from the lake and hope the God of the Sun would bless her. Her lips twisted when she thought about the reverend and what he would say about her blasphemous thoughts.
Following the shore to a dock, she recognized Ben’s boat. Ben had traded a summer’s worth of work as a handyman and yard boy for the boat and he paid a moorage to the owner of the dock, the father of a friend of his. Nadine had no qualms about using the craft. She climbed into the boat and rowed, watching as moonlight ribboned the water and fish rose to the calm surface.
There was no cooling breeze off the lake. The waters were still and calm; the only noises were the lap of her oars as they dipped into the water, and the nervous beat of her heart. Somewhere, in the far distant hills, thunder rumbled ominously.
She rowed toward the middle of the lake, and once she’d put a hundred yards between herself and the shore, she started the engine. The old motor coughed and died before roaring to life. With the partially blocked moon as her guide, and help from a powerful flashlight Ben kept in the boat, she steered the craft toward the north shore.
Three times she passed the entrance to the cove before she found the break in the shoreline that led to the lagoon. Her hands were oily on the helm. Turning inland, she steered through the narrow straight and, as the lake widened again, cut the boat’s engine. Slinging the mooring rope over her shoulder, she hopped over the side and anchored Ben’s craft. If her brother guessed what she was doing, he’d kill her, she thought uneasily, but closed her mind to her family and her problems at home. For now, she had to worry about Hayden. If he didn’t show up, she’d try to take Ben’s advice and forget him; if he did appear, her life would become even more complicated.
Damned if you do. Damned if you don’t. One of her father’s favorite sayings suddenly held a lot more meaning.
Listening to the sounds of the night, she recognized the soft hoot of an owl, the rustle of undergrowth as some night creature passed, the sigh of a gust of sudden wind as it shifted and turned, moving the branches overhead. Nervously she checked the luminous dial of her watch every three minutes.
As the first half hour passed, her reservations grew. How long would she wait? An hour? Two? Until dawn? The first few drops of rain began to fall from the sky.
The snapping of a twig caused her to jump to her feet. Heart pounding in her throat, she whirled, facing the noise. What if it wasn’t Hayden? What if his father...or some criminal escaping justice were hiding in the—
“Nadine?”
His voice made her knees go weak. “Over here.”
She saw him then. His dark profile emerged from a path between two trees. Relief chased away her apprehension and she walked quickly to him.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” he said as she approached, and before she could answer, he swept her into his arms and his lips claimed hers with such hunger, she melted inside. She kissed him eagerly, her arms wrapping around him, her heart thundering. He’d come for her!
His kiss was hot and demanding, his tongue anxious as it parted her lips and easily pried her teeth apart. Together they tumbled to the ground, hands and arms holding each other close. “Nadine, Nadine,” he whispered hoarsely over and over again.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t show up,” she whispered, tears suddenly filling her eyes.
“I said I would.”
“But you were with—”
“Shh.” He kissed her again. More tenderly. “I couldn’t have not come here if I’d wanted to,” he admitted, sighing as if his fate were sealed and he had no way to change it. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be here.”
“I told myself I’d wait until dawn.”
“And then?”
“Then I’d figure that you didn’t want to be with me.”
“If you only knew,” he whispered against her ear, his fingers twining in her hair.
He touched her chin, cupping her face, his eyes dark as a raindrop slid down his nose. “Nothing could have stopped me from being here. Not God. Not the devil. And not even my father.”
She thrilled as his lips found hers again and she kissed him feverishly. He moaned into her mouth as the kiss deepened, touching her very soul. His hands were gentle, but firm, and one of his legs wedged between hers. Her fingers curled over his shoulders and her breath was hot and trapped in her lungs. An uncoiling warmth started deep within her, spinning in hot circles, and caused her to press against him.
His hands found the hem of her T-shirt and explored the firm flesh of her abdomen, searching and probing, moving ever so slightly upward, scaling her ribs. She thought she would go mad with want and her own fingers tugged his shirt free of his jeans and felt the hard muscles of his chest, the light springy hair, the flat nipples that seemed to move beneath her hands. Groaning, he reached into her bra, drawing out breasts that ached for his touch.
Nadine’s nipples reacted and she wanted more. He yanked her T-shirt over her head and gazed down at her. Within seconds he’d disposed of the lacy scrap of cloth and was kneading her gently, his tanned hands dark against her white, veined skin, rain beginning to splash against the ground.
She moaned, and when he dipped his head to suckle, a shock wave caused her to buck against him, her hips instinctively pressing against his.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he said, his breath fanning her wet, taut nipple and causing an ache between her legs. She writhed as his tongue flicked across the hard tip. She wrenched off his shirt and her fingers dug into the sinewy muscles of his shoulders.
He took her hand and placed it on his fly. She reacted as if burned, her arm jerking backward. “It’s okay,” he insisted, and placed her palm squarely on the apex of his legs again. Her throat felt dry as a barren desert; her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Beneath his jeans, she felt him, hard and anxious. “That’s what you do to me,” he admitted, and she felt suddenly powerful.
Boldly she nuzzled his chest, her hand still in place against the soft fabric of his pants. She scraped her wet tongue across a nipple buried in downy hair and he made an animal sound.
She knew she was playing with fire, that soon this petting and kissing might get out of hand, but she didn’t care. Despite the rain, the night was hot, Hayden was hotter still and she wanted, more than anything, to kiss him forever. With him, her problems disappeared. All that mattered was Hayden.
His arms surrounded her and he found her lips again. Kissing her until she couldn’t breathe, crushing her naked breasts against his rock-solid chest, Hayden moved against her. His hardness, still encased in denim, pressed deep into her bare abdomen and he shivered, as if trying to restrain himself.