figure out a way.”
“How?”
“I’ll stay a little longer than I originally planned.”
“No,” Rachel said. “No, that is not a solution. You have your own life to get back to and I’m not going—”
“But I kind of like living here in the middle of your life,” he said. “Mostly, I like sleeping in the middle of your bed.”
Rachel had already decided that she wasn’t going to take advantage of him any longer. He was far too kind to her, and though it made life easier, she had to figure out these things on her own.
“I’m going to turn it down,” she said.
“You don’t even know what it’s about,” Dermot reminded. “Why don’t you find out before you make a decision that you might regret?”
She met his gaze. He was right, of course. Dermot was always right. He took a measured approach to any decision, weighing all his options, examining the pros and cons. Rachel suspected if he were the one running the farm, they’d be milking two hundred goats, turning out cases of soap and making their own cheese. “All right. I won’t make any quick decisions. But all of this is making me a little nervous.”
“We’ll go into town later and post another ad at the grocery store. And then, we’ll put an ad in the local papers. And we’ll find someone to help you out on the farm.”
Rachel leaned over a dropped a kiss on his lips. “You’re really too good to me, you know that, don’t you?”
“I have ulterior motives,” he said, a wicked smile curling the corners of his mouth. “Which I am about to reveal.”
“You smell like a goat,” she said. “I smell like a goat.”
“We could always take a shower,” he suggested. “Together.”
Right now, she didn’t want to think about all the things she had to do, all the decisions she had to make. She just wanted to lose herself in an intriguing exploration of Dermot’s incredible body. Rachel tugged off her boots and set them on the steps. “I’ll race you.”
She ran inside, pulling her T-shirt over her head as she hurried through the kitchen. Dermot followed, hot on her heels, nearly catching her on the stairs. She screamed as she eluded his grasp, then slipped into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.
“There’s only enough hot water for me,” she called. “You’ll have to wait.”
“Come on, Rachel. We can share a shower, can’t we?”
“You know what happened the last time we did that. We got distracted and ran out of hot water before I even got my hair washed.”
“I promise. I’ll keep my hands to myself this time around.”
“Promise?”
“I’m taking my clothes off right now,” he said. “I’m almost naked. Oh, yes, now I’m naked.”
She opened the bathroom door a crack and peeked out. He was standing in the hallway, his clothes at his feet. “Can I come in?”
Her fingers twitched with the urge to touch him. He was already aroused. With Dermot, it was easy, she mused. He made it obvious that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. When it came to sex, she didn’t have to think. She just felt.
She opened the door wider to let him pass. As he did, Rachel let her hand drift across his belly. He moaned and turned into her touch.
“I’m counting on you to behave,” she said in her most seductive tone.
“Then stop messing with me,” he replied. Dermot reached behind the shower curtain and turned on the water.
Rachel quickly skimmed her jeans to the floor, then kicked them aside along with her socks. “I’m just making sure you’re only interested in a shower.”
Dermot grabbed her and kissed her, stopping her come-on with his lips and his tongue. When he finally drew away, Rachel stepped behind the curtain and into the claw-foot tub. He joined her a moment later, wrapping his arms around her waist. His mouth found hers again and he kissed her, hungry with desire. Rachel arched against him as his lips trailed over her shoulder and onto her breasts.
She slowly stroked him as he explored her body with his lips and tongue. The water made him slick, and before long, he was fully aroused and moaning with desire. Rachel knew exactly what would drive him wild, and when she closed her lips over the head of his shaft, he gasped, his hands braced on her shoulders, his eyes closed.
If this was the last man she’d know intimately, Rachel could live with that. The memories of what they shared were so deeply etched into her mind that she knew she’d be able to recall every caress, every reaction, by just closing her eyes.
She tempted him with her lips and her tongue, surprised by how easily she could bring him to the edge. And then, she took him too close. Dermot grabbed her arms and pulled her to her feet, his eyes closed, his jaw tense. Rachel watched as he struggled to maintain control.
He gently drew her against his body, her back to him, his fingers slipping between her legs. Every nerve in her body tingled, his touch causing her pulse to race. He could read her reactions, and when she had reached the point of no return, Dermot slipped inside her.
The feel of him buried deep was almost more than she could take. The fears and insecurities that had kept her from loving him were gone. Why couldn’t she feel like this all the time, as if there were no way anything could come between them?
The sensations coursing through her body obliterated rational thought, and a moment later, she was caught in the vortex of her release. Rachel’s body went boneless and it was all she could do to stay upright. A moment later, he found his own release, his hands clutching her hips as he drove into her one last time.
They clung to each other beneath the shower, her backside nestled in his lap, both of them trembling in the aftermath of their orgasms. It would never be like this with another man, she mused. The passion they shared was singular and powerful, and becoming more frightening to her with every encounter they shared. How would she ever do without this?
Though she wanted to imagine a happy ending for the two of them, the odds didn’t seem to favor them. Was she willing to give up everything she’d known, everything she promised, to find a life with him? And was he ready to make that kind of commitment?
There were too many questions left unanswered and she was running out of time to ask them all.
THE STORM BEGAN IN the middle of the night. Lightning flashed and the thunder was so loud it rattled the windows. Dermot sat up in bed, reaching out for Rachel. But her side of the bed was empty.
He tossed the sheet aside and stood, searching the room for something to wear. In the end, he pulled on a pair of jeans and walked downstairs barefoot. He found her, curled up in front of the television, tuned to the weather channel. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“Tornado warning,” she said.
“Tornado?
