at the air. Here, in this kitchen that shone and glistened in the morning sunlight, a part of him wished things were different. Wished he were different.
But no amount of wishing could turn back time.
“Before,” she said, apparently unwilling to let this conversation end and allow him an escape, “you told me that you weren’t a nice man.”
He stilled, his hands atop the medical bag that went with him everywhere. “It’s the truth.”
“No,” she said softly. And he couldn’t help it—he had to look at her.
The sun shining in behind her silhouetted and lined her form with gold. Their gazes locked. She looked deeply into his eyes, and Sam wanted to warn her that what she would see in his soul wasn’t really worth a long look.
“It’s not the truth at all,” she was saying, her gaze on his, a small smile curving her lips. “I think you’d like to believe it’s true, but it’s not.”
“You don’t know me,” Sam countered and deliberately forced himself to break the spell somehow linking them. He grabbed up his bag and took the few steps to the doorway leading out of the kitchen.
Her voice stopped him.
“Maybe not,” she said quietly. “But maybe you don’t know you very well, either.”
“You shouldn’t come here alone.”
Maggie’s rhythm was shattered and she came up out of her swim stroke to look at the man standing at the lake’s edge. Under the light of a nearly full moon he looked… amazing.
All day she’d been thinking of him. Didn’t matter that he’d managed to keep out of her way, busying himself with tasks around the ranch yard. He’d mended fences, repaired a loose board on the back porch and cleared out the empty stables where Jeremiah used to keep horses.
And when he hadn’t known she was watching, Maggie had taken the opportunity to indulge herself with a good stare. He worked like a man trying to keep himself too busy to think. In the heat of the afternoon he’d stripped off his black T-shirt, and Maggie’d been mesmerized by the sight of his tanned flesh, muscles rippling with his every movement.
Heat had settled deep inside her and didn’t show any signs of dissipating. She’d moved through the rest of her day in a fog of confused lust. Not that she was confused about the lust. That was really clear. Gorgeous man, dark, haunted eyes, deep voice, gentle hands. What woman wouldn’t be tied up in knots over him?
The confusion resulted from the fact that she knew he wanted her, too—and was doing everything he could to avoid her. But then, hadn’t they made a pact to do just that? Steer clear of each other?
So why was he here now?
Treading water, Maggie kicked her legs and waved her arms through the cool water, keeping herself afloat as she watched him. “I’ve been coming here alone for two years now. I’m perfectly safe.”
“I came here every summer of my life. Only took the one time.”
“Sam…” If they were going to have this talk, she wouldn’t do it while treading water. Giving a good strong kick, she headed for shore, and as soon as the water was shallow enough, she walked across the silty bottom, sand pushing up between her toes. Water rained off her body and she wrung her hair out before tossing it over her shoulder as she moved up onto the shore, coming to a stop right in front of him.
His gaze swept up and down her quickly, thoroughly. “No more skinny-dipping?”
She glanced at the black one-piece bathing suit she wore, then lifted her gaze to his. Smiling, she shrugged. “I’m being a little more careful these days.”
Instantly the humor in his eyes disappeared and he reached for her, curling his fingers into her shoulders as he pulled her close. His eyes even darker than usual, his voice was raw. “I hope you are. You don’t dive here, do you? Jump in from the ridge?”
“No,” she said quickly, responding to the fear in his eyes more than to the dictatorial note in his voice. “I just come here to swim. To cool off.”
She shifted her gaze to the moonlit water behind her. She tried to see it through his eyes, through the veil of a memory that clearly still shadowed him. But all she saw was the beauty. As always, being in this spot soothed her, filled her in a way that nothing else ever had. The sigh of the wind through the trees and across the open fields. The cool ripple of the water against her skin. The wash of pale light streaming down from the sky.
“It’s beautiful here,” she said softly, almost reverently.
“It is,” he agreed almost reluctantly, his grip on her shoulders easing but not releasing. “I’d forgotten.”
“Sam.” She looked up at him and waited for his gaze to meet hers. “I… know what happened here fifteen years ago. I know why you and your cousins left and never came back.”
In a heartbeat his hands tightened on her shoulders again, and she wasn’t sure if he was holding on to her to keep her there or to keep himself steady.
Shaking his head, he looked down at her and sucked in a deep, long breath. “You can’t know. You can’t know what it’s like to be so young and to lose everything.”
She reached up and cupped his cheek in her palm. Heart aching for him as she saw old pain blossom in the shine of his eyes, she said, “I know what it’s like to have nothing to lose. I know that you still have so much—but you’re determined not to see it.”
He pulled her even closer and loomed over her. Maggie met his gaze and wouldn’t look away. The desire that had pumped inside her so fiercely came back to the forefront and made her nerve endings fire. Something fluttered in the pit of her stomach and she swallowed hard against the knot of need lodged in her throat.
“You pull at me,” he admitted, his gaze sweeping over her face. “And if I could stop it, I would.”
Her heartbeat galloped and her mouth went dry. “I know.” She wasn’t stupid. She knew it was a mistake to get involved with a man whose very presence might be a threat to her remaining at the ranch she loved. But it had been so long since she’d felt this sense of… wanting. And she’d never known the near electrical surge in her body that being close to Sam engendered.
“I’ve told you, I’m not a nice man,” he said. “You have to believe me.”
“I don’t.”
He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers for a heartbeat of time. Warmth spiraled through her, like ribbon falling unfettered from a spool.
“You will, Maggie,” he said. “God help me, you will believe me.”
There was that confusion again.
Then he took her mouth with his and all thought stopped. She didn’t want to think. She only wanted to feel. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her cold, wet body to his, and Maggie could have sworn she felt steam rise up between them.
When he broke the kiss, she felt bereft, unsteady
