“You’re lying!” Even with her back turned, she radiated disbelief.
“With the split ends trimmed off,” he amended.
“I do not have split ends!”
Callum laughed close to her neck, and felt her quiver in response. “I made that up. Seriously, you have lovely hair. Lovely everything else, too.”
“No, I don’t. I could lose some weight,” Jody said.
“What?” To him, her womanly figure had always been the standard to which he compared all others. “You’re built just right.”
“I don’t look like a model, and don’t lie to me about it.” Although he couldn’t see her face, Callum imagined the way her lips must be twitching as she awaited his response.
“I agree. You don’t look like a model.” He played the comb lightly against her scalp, doing his best to tantalize her. “If I put my arms around a model, all I feel are bones.”
Her shoulders drooped. “You put your arms around them a lot, don’t you?”
“Hardly ever. Let me show you what I mean.” Setting the comb aside, he stroked Jody’s cheek and trailed the back of his hand along her jawline. When the tension eased from her muscles and she issued a small sigh, Callum bowed his head until his nose grazed her neck. “There’s no one else I want to be this close to.”
“Me, either,” she whispered.
He collected her in his arms. Although his body tightened instinctively, Callum didn’t want to rush. Every moment with Jody was precious, he mused as he kissed her earlobe.
The breeze sifted around them, filled with the scents of fields and trees. From nearby came the rustling of the horses as they fed. Callum didn’t remember when he’d known such utter peace.
His arm brushed the swell of Jody’s breast. Her nipple hardened and he rubbed his wrist up and down against it.
She arched her back, thrusting her breasts harder against his arm. That, he gathered, was a definite Go.
As Callum unworked the buttons of Jody’s blouse, it occurred to him that this whole platonic business didn’t appear to be much of a success. He didn’t mind in the least.
CHAPTER SIX
IN TWENTY-NINE YEARS of hard living, Jody had accumulated her fair share of wisdom. For the chance of making love to Callum again, she tossed it all to the wind.
Her muscles grew heavy as his fingers opened her shirt and smoothed down the bra straps. When he cupped her bare breasts, exquisite sensations spread all the way to the spot between her thighs.
His palms squeezed her before easing down to stroke her ribs and waist. Jody heard his breathing intensify and his heart pound in counterpoint to her own, creating their own private music.
She turned her face until their lips met. Gently, Callum tipped her chin upward and introduced his tongue into her mouth. It probed her with the tantalizing sweetness of a flute.
Freed from her inhibitions against touching him, Jody gave herself over to exploration. Silvery blond hair drifted between her fingers, a startling contrast to the prickliness of Callum’s jaw. She nibbled on his neck and then, after prying open the buttons on his shirt, rubbed her nude torso against his sculpted strength. Together they swayed to a subtle, intensifying beat.
Rising on her knees, Jody rubbed her cheek across the top of Callum’s head. His hands smoothed her jeans down her hips.
They should stop, she thought distractedly. Maybe in another century or so.
Callum fondled the curve of her bottom. “Magnificent,” he whispered.
There’s too much of it, Jody wanted to say, but that wasn’t true. At this moment, she relished her feminine curves because they gave him pleasure. And he gave it back to her in waves as he tasted her.
Jody released a small cry, like a clarinet tone that gets lost in a soaring symphony. How did she dare to open herself to Callum this way? Yet how could she do anything else?
When she almost couldn’t bear any more pleasure, he laid her on the blanket and stripped off his pants. What a beautiful sight he was, even better than in memory, with sunlight and leaf-shadow highlighting his splendidly toned body. Best of all was the tenderness on his face and that grin of pure, unabashed happiness.
She loved everything about Callum, from his long legs and taut masculinity to his exuberance. She wanted to urge him on, and yet…
“Wait.” Jody rolled over.
“I’m not sure I can.”
She reached for her jeans and, from the pocket, produced the protection she’d brought in case of something she hadn’t wanted to admit was possible. “Remember what happened the last time we did this?”
“Thank you for thinking ahead.” He reached for it, unfolded it and slipped it onto himself. The sight of him so ready for her carried Jody past a moment when her good sense almost reasserted itself.
Callum rolled her atop him, lifting her easily. She gripped him with her knees and they came together in a fierce thrust that vibrated through her like the clash of cymbals.
Callum gasped. “You’re beautiful.”
“You,” Jody whispered.
He gave her a puzzled look. “What about me?”
“Gorgeous.” That one word encompassed it all. The man electrified her, as he had from the first moment she’d seen him. He was the wild clarion call that stirred her long-suppressed sense of daring.
Callum rocked his hips rhythmically, moving himself into her and out, slowing the tempo and then speeding it again. Atop him, Jody floated into a dimension ruled by sheer sensation.
Just when she thought she might actually levitate, he shifted away and slid her onto her back. As he rose above her, cool air replaced him between her legs. The absence was intolerable.
Jody wrapped her legs around him, determined to take charge. She drew him downward, wriggling and arousing him with a dance into which he joined eagerly. She could read the joy on Callum’s face as he lost his battle to prolong the exquisite agony of delay.
When he entered her again, it was with the wild abandon of a conductor bringing a symphony to its crescendo. Jody writhed against him, giving herself to his power.
Callum’s mouth closed over hers. Their tongues entwined as the climax seized them both. It roared through her, a thrilling tangle of melodies and percussion that she wished would never end.
The last note reverberated into silence. Jody lay spent, eyes shut, as Callum stretched out beside her. She wanted nothing more than this.
Gradually the caress of the breeze, the chirp of a bird and the nicker of a horse transformed paradise back into a ranch. Callum changed from her dream man to the boyfriend she couldn’t keep. Before long, he would be flying away from her arms.
Maybe she would be flying away, too, to that fantasy known as Paris. But it could never be as perfect as this, Jody thought.
For a foolish while, she lay hoping to hear Callum say I love you. That would be the ultimate magic.
It occurred to her, when the words didn’t come, that they’d just banished any possibility of a marriage of convenience. What could they substitute? More years of silence and separation?
Curious about Callum’s reaction, she peeked at him. On his nose sat a butterfly, its black-and-yellow wings undulating. He stared at it cross-eyed, and she laughed. Disgruntled, the insect caught a current and bumbled away through the air.
“Only you would have a butterfly land on your face,” Jody said.
“Bugs like me. What can I say?”
Apparently horses liked him, too, because King Arthur, tired of grazing, ambled over to him. Callum reached out and scratched the gelding’s ears. “We should pick up the boys soon. I don’t want them to think we’ve forgotten them.”
Jody realized to her surprise that she hadn’t given a moment’s thought to her sons all afternoon. How ironic that it was Callum who’d remembered.