A Man For All Seasons by Jenny Brigalow Page B

over the fright) she'd been secretly delighted by the unplanned reunion. A wave of guilt flooded through her as she recalled the muddy mess he'd been in following their ride. But she'd been upset and confused.
    She regretted her earlier snubbing, and had wanted a chance to try to straighten things out before they flew out. Whilst she could cope with her mother's disapproval - just - she found herself more concerned with the cooling of her relationship with Chad.
    Intuition told her that he was upset with her. She'd racked her brains, but for the life of her she couldn't work it out. She went over and over the short periods of time they'd spent together. After he'd been so kind the other evening, and gone along with her somewhat embroidered tales, she'd really thought he liked her. But try as she could, she could find no good reason for the growing distance that seemed to be separating them.
    At Trick's box they paused again. She lingered longer than she should, for she didn't want to break the spell of the moment. Between them they dug the last of the carrots out of the bag, then she gained several more precious moments as the big stallion and Chad played tug of war with the empty bag. She watched, entranced and touched by the pair's youthful exuberance.
    For a moment she could imagine that it was her playfully fighting with the tall, handsome man. She could just see it. For a while he'd tease, let her think she was winning. Then he'd pull her down and pin her gently to the ground. He'd laugh down into her face and then…
    “Penny for them?”
    She startled, and then blushed when she realised his remarkable amber eyes were fixed upon her. What must he think?
    He'd relinquished the bag and Trick had retreated into his stable with his prize.
    Forcing a small smile, she lied. “I was just wondering how Trick would enjoy his flight.”
    “He'll be fine. Flying doesn't seem to faze them much.” Then two crease marks formed between his eyes.
    She jumped a little as he reached out one brown hand and ran his thumb softly down her cheek. She could barely breathe.
    “You're absolutely frozen,” he said.
    She stared at him blankly for a minute until she realised he was quite right. Her toes were numb and the marrow in her leg bones seemed to throb in protest. Small spasms coursed through her body and she shivered like a sapling in the wind. But how could he know that it was nothing to do with the cold? How could he know that desire fizzed through her like a Catherine wheel? How could he know that her lips wanted to part to ask for a kiss? How could he know? The answer of course, was that she had to tell him.
    She caught his wrist in her hand and looked at him. Her breath came in jagged bursts and she felt as if she would implode with need. “Warm me,” she whispered.
    For an agonising eternity he remained frozen, his eyes locked in hers. And then his hand slid over the fall of her jaw and slowly encircled her throat. “I can feel your pulse,” he whispered. “It feels like a butterfly in a net.” Then he dropped his head and his mouth met hers, softly catching up her lower lip.
    She tipped back her head, a small moan of ecstasy filtering through their union. Instinctively she moved into the unfamiliar realms of his body and her mouth began to explore. Heat flared in her core as his hands slid around her and pulled her close. Tentatively at first, and then with growing confidence, she began to explore the iron hard muscles of his shoulders and back. Her legs felt so hollow that she believed she would fall without his hold upon her. Surrender beckoned with her mysterious smile.
    When he released her she felt strangely disorientated and yet gloriously, shamelessly, wildly exhilarated, and oddly abandoned all at the same time. His white teeth flashed through the dark beard. “I think that's enough kissing for one night, don't you?”
    She thoroughly disagreed but refrained from saying so. They left the yard and trekked back to