notice only one thing about him... the barely checked hostility in his eyes.
“Still heartless, eh, Max?”
She reared back. “Go to hell, Kyle.”
A single brow arched, a dark wing over his penetrating eyes. “You’re the one prepared for the trip.”
She looked down at the pitchfork in her hand. Damn him. Damn him for coming into her life again, for making her see she couldn’t escape her mistakes. She was mortally ashamed of how she’d treated him all those years ago, but Maxie had more at risk now than old feelings. She knew what her decision had cost her. And she’d paid for it in more ways than he could ever imagine. But it would be just like a man to want to hear the gory details of how badly she’d suffered, too. And she wasn’t about to give him more fodder to feed on.
She met his gaze. “We haven’t seen each other in seven years, so don’t assume you know me anymore, because you don’t.” She pulled off her gloves and jammed them in her hip pocket, moving toward the horse.
He rolled the duffel off his shoulder and dumped it on the dirt floor.
Maxie’s gaze lowered to his name stenciled on the canvas, and she froze as recognition dawned. It was the same seabag he’d had when she’d last seen him. Her gaze flew to his, and something flickered in his eyes just then. The cold air between them crackled. Her skin flushed. For a moment, they were alone in his barracks room, groping at each other, their wild hunger making them impatient enough not to bother taking off all their clothes.
Kyle’s heart did a quick slam in his chest at the familiar heat in her green eyes, vivid enough to create an ache in his groin. Damn. He hated and wanted her all in one breath. It wasn’t natural. What was, was his need to shake her, to demand why she’d abandoned him so brutally when he’d needed her the most.
Maxie Parrish had been his biggest heartache and his greatest humiliation.
But he was over her now. If he wasn’t, he would have looked her up long before now and certainly before this contracted deal with his chopper put him in her life. Regardless, Kyle’s gaze unwillingly lowered over the long slim body he remembered in his dreams. Her faded plaid shirt shaped her torso better than silk, loose shirttail over jeans worn nearly white and fitting her like skin. Her boots were scarred and caked with dirt. The Maxie he remembered was always dressed to kill and never without makeup. This woman had muddy knees and chipped nails.
But she was the same woman who’d deserted him without explanation, he thought as she reached out to unsnap the horse’s lead.
He caught her wrist as she passed, and their gazes clashed. “You’re wrong, Max. I know you better than any man.”
She tugged on his grip. “You’re dreaming. Again.”
With a jerk, he pulled her against him, hemming her in between his body and the wall as his free hand slipped smoothly inside her down vest. The cold air rushed into her lungs at the contact, then staggered as his fingers found their way beneath her shirttails, touching her bare skin.
Lord. It was as soft as he remembered, satiny, warm, making his body throb for her.
“Kyle, don’t.” She wiggled her wrist, but he held tight, even as his mind screamed at him to quit torturing himself, that he wasn’t prepared for any involvement with her, not again, not after the way she’d humiliated him. Yet without thought, he spread his hand over the small of her back, driving his palm upward, caressing, feeling. She was naked beneath the faded shirt.
“Oh, Maxie,” he hissed softly, and her eyes softened, drifting closed, her body gravitating toward him and he remembered... remembered tasting her skin, lying naked with her, being buried deep inside her soft body. His groin thickened painfully, and he pressed her into it. His face neared, his lips a breath from hers. He drank in her startled gasp as his hand swept around to enfold her bare breast, his thumb heavily circling her tight nipple. A moan escaped him, unheeded, like a long-awaited burst of freedom. That this, the passion, the desire neither could fight or understand, hadn’t changed, was a complication he hadn’t expected. Suddenly it made him feel unreasonably weak.
And he resented it.
Feebly Maxie wrestled against him, but the liquid heat blossoming through her body with every tiny movement of his fingers was hard to ignore. She’d hoped if this moment ever came, that her feelings would be faint, like an old wa tercolor, yet they were more like a cattle stampede, coming from all directions with a force that defied nature. Her knees softened, and all at once she was hot and hungry, vulnerable for the caress of a man. This man. No one made her feel like she did when Kyle Hayden touched her. The passing years had done nothing to extinguish it; in fact the ache in her was blistering, just waiting to be uncapped. She gripped his jacket lapel to keep from sinking into the floor and waited for more.
“Some things you just can’t forget, eh, baby?”
His mocking tone startled her, awakened her, and she knew in an instant he was throwing their past in her face. She focused on his eyes and found shaded indifference, a callous man without sympathy for how the past seven years had treated her.
She wrenched free and stepped back, furious with herself and him. “Yeah, but what we do about it is another,” she snapped, embarrassed she was so spineless when he touched her. “That’s all we had, Kyle.” She leaned a bit closer, her voice low with hot anger. “A little wild sex. Nothing more.” The lie rolled too easily off her lips. “At least I was smart enough to see that passion wasn’t enough for a lifetime.” She started past him.
He caught her, swiftly pressing her up against the wall and covering her mouth with his. He kissed her and kissed her, his tongue plunging between her lips, his hands diving beneath her shirt and molding her bare breasts. His hat tumbled to the ground as she growled against his mouth, teetering on surrender.
This is so good, she thought. He pushed his knee between her thighs, and she instinctively bore down on him, her fingers sinking into his hair and grabbing fistfuls, holding him as she paid him back touch for touch.
Suddenly he jerked back, staring. His lungs worked violently.
Her breath brushed his lips.
He arched a brow. “Not enough, Max?” The malevolence in his dark eyes was enough to make her see the moment for what it was. A humiliation. A payback.
She shifted past him, ignoring the feel of his eyes on her back as she headed out of the barn.
Kyle remained motionless, grinding his teeth, his gaze on her as she negotiated her way around tack and hay bales. He resented the hell out of it since he couldn’t even manage to move without snapping in half. And he was ashamed of himself for what he’d just done. But he’d never had much control around Maxie and knew the instant he’d seen her in the barn, he should have made an about-face and flown right out of there.
He stared at the dirt floor, rubbing the back of his neck. That was one hell of a reunion, he thought. But ending their relationship years ago was her choice, not his. She’d made the decision for them, excluding him completely and running like a coward. She never gave him the courtesy of having his say in the matter. The humiliation and agony of that day flooded through him again, and he clenched his fist over and over, wishing he’d never laid eyes on her again. He didn’t trust her. And the tightness crowding his jeans told him he shouldn’t trust himself around her, either. Nor could he board here for the next two weeks. No way. Seeing Maxie for ten minutes was enough to make him consider
