“Agreed.” She put her palms on his hips and wantonly pulled him toward her.
A second later they were one, fitting together as if they had been destined to join forces just like this, his fullness generating another roller coaster of want and need. Forcing her to open herself up and wrap her arms and legs around him and be closer yet. And still they kissed, the two of them moving together, burning hotter, until they were soaring out of control. The force of the pleasure consumed her, prompting her to arch and shudder and cry out. And Hank, sweet unbelievable gift that he was, found his pleasure, too, surging into her just as rapaciously, taking her along for the ride.
ALLY LAY ON HER SIDE, her eyes closed. She wasn’t sure when she had ever felt so completely, utterly fulfilled…or so drained. Physically, she was exhausted. Emotionally was another matter. Her heart was in as much of an uproar as her senses. Every inch of her felt alive, appreciated and more vulnerable than she knew what to do with.
With a long, luxurious sigh that sounded like pure contentment, Hank rolled so his body was cuddled up next to hers.
Spooning was something Ally had never done, either. Yet with Hank’s arm clamped snugly around her, his strong body pressed against hers, she didn’t have the will to move away.
So she lay there, eyes shut, trying not to think about what had just happened or what it might mean. Now or in the future.
And she was still “not thinking” about it some time later when she awakened and found herself naked and alone in Hank McCabe’s bed. Ally sat up with a start, clutching the sheet to her breasts. Her naked state, and the just-loved tingling of her body, made it official. She hadn’t dreamed this tryst with Hank. Or her newfound, never to be repeated, recklessness. Fortunately for both of them, he had apparently come to his senses, too, and left the room before she roused. Which meant she could get dressed in solitude.
With shaking hands, Ally pulled on her clothes and went into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face.
The woman staring back at her in the mirror, with the bright eyes, flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips, looked different.
One roll in the hay with Hank and she felt different, too.
But Ally wasn’t going to think about that, either.
She was going to go down and see to Duchess and the puppies, because she should have done that a good half an hour ago. Ally ran a brush through her tousled hair, twisted it up into a clip and hurried down the stairs to the kitchen.
Only to find the puppies already curled up to Duchess’s side, suckling sweetly. All except Gracie, who was cuddled on Hank’s lap, taking her formula from a bottle in his hand.
His dark hair was mussed, his jaw lined with lateafternoon shadow, and he, too, had the glow of someone who had just been well and thoroughly loved.
Ally pushed aside the notion of what it might be like to have him home with her like this every evening. No matter how much she might fantasize that, or wish for it in her dreams, it wasn’t going to happen, she told herself firmly.
She didn’t care how sexy he was.
She was not going to return to the place that had held so much loneliness and uncertainty in her youth.
To a place that held nothing but bad memories for her now.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Ally asked.
Hank looked at Ally tenderly. “I know how hard you’ve been working. I wanted you to get some sleep.”
She had to admit she did feel better for the rest. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Something shifted in his expression, though the affection in his eyes remained. Appearing as if he had half expected just this kind of reaction from her, he favored her with a reassuring smile.
“I know that,” Hank returned, just as quietly. “But I wanted to.”
Just as, Ally thought wistfully, he clearly wanted to make love to her again. She swallowed, her fear of being hurt stronger than ever. “The thing is,” she reminded them both, “I’m only here temporarily.”
The look in Hank’s eyes said he clearly felt otherwise. “So you’re telling me I’m nothing more than a fling to you?”
Ally wished it were that uncomplicated. She could already feel herself being drawn to him again, heart and soul. The problem was, they were all wrong for each other. “We want different things from life,” she told him in a low, measured tone.
His gaze narrowed. “Ranchers marry city girls all the time,” he returned casually.
Marry! Telling herself they were speaking hypothetically, Ally concurred. “But in those cases, the city girls move to the ranch.” Which was clearly not going to happen here. She edged closer to make her point as gently and kindly as possible. She put up a staying hand. “I’m not saying it wasn’t great…”
“That’s good to hear,” Hank interrupted, looking her straight in the eye. “Because it was-” he paused, letting the words sink in “-great.”
Ally flushed at the new heat in his midnight-blue eyes. “But it’s not going to happen again,” she continued, standing her ground determinedly.
He lifted a skeptical brow. “Sure about that?” he teased.
Ally nodded. She did not want to be hurt and instinct told her that, whether he wanted to admit it or not, Hank McCabe had the potential to break her heart. She gulped, moved closer still and inclined her head toward the adorable puppy he held in his arms. “So what’s going on here?”
To her relief, Hank let the discussion about their lovemaking end.
“Well,” he drawled, his attention returning to Duchess and the puppies, too. “You’re not going to believe what just happened,” he said. He finished giving Gracie the bottle, then held her up tenderly, to look into her cute little face and still-closed eyes. “Is she, Gracie?”
Ally could have swore the pup gave a tiny squeak in response. But maybe that was wishful thinking, too.
“What happened?” she asked in concern.
Hank smiled and gently set the littlest puppy down in front of Duchess, who promptly began nuzzling the runt of the litter affectionately and cleaning her, with her tongue. That much attention from her mother was new, Ally noted with a start.
Hank beamed like a proud papa, and languidly rolled to his feet. “Gracie nursed at her mama’s side for a good three minutes at the start of the feeding before she got too tired and fell off.”
Nursing from the mother was much harder, physically, than taking formula from a bottle. Which meant that Gracie was not failing, after all, but getting stronger. “That’s nearly three times as long as she did this morning!” Ally noted, impressed.
“Not only did she get much needed colostrum and immunity from her mama,” Hank reported happily, “but she drank most of this bottle, too.”
Finished, Duchess nosed Gracie away from her and turned to the next puppy who needed her attention.
Hank reached over and picked up Gracie, handing her to Ally to cuddle. As she held her, Gracie made the same sounds the other puppies were making-like the quiet purr of a well-tuned motor. The males were a little larger than the females. All the puppies, including Gracie, seemed a bit more adept at wiggling and scooting around today. Duchess seemed attached to every one of them, even the littlest one.
“Gracie is getting stronger, too.” Ally could feel it in the way the little puppy nestled against her.
Hank regarded her seriously. “It won’t be long at all-maybe the end of the week or so-before Gracie can take her nourishment with her siblings, and give up the handfeeding entirely.”
Which meant, Ally realized with a pang, that Gracie wouldn’t need her.
“That’s great,” she choked out, telling herself that the pup’s coming independence, as well as Hank’s wordless departure from the bedroom, was to be celebrated, not mourned. Ever so gently, she pressed a kiss on the top of Gracie’s head and handed her back to him.