Country Roads(73)

She frowned as she considered his thriving legal practice, his close relationship with his nephew, and the vehicular toys he clearly enjoyed. He had wonderful friends in Claire and Tim, and the respect of an entire town.

Heck, she and he had just made love, and she was pretty sure he’d enjoyed it as much as she had.

So why would this man who seemed to have so much look like he had no hope of happiness in the world? His sadness tore at her.

“Paul, are you all right?” she asked softly.

He started and turned toward her. She could see the effort it took for him to paste a smile on his face. “Never better.” He leaned down to drop a light kiss on her lips.

Sudden self-consciousness made her pull the edge of the blanket over herself as she pushed up to a sitting position. “What were you thinking about just now?”

“Are you cold?” His eyes dark with concern, he flipped the other side of the plaid wool over to wrap it around her.

“No, just a little too naked.”

His smile was genuine this time. “There’s no such thing as too naked when it comes to you.”

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“It went clean out of my head when I kissed you.” He folded his legs under him and stood. “How about a nice cold one?”

“Cold what?” She recognized deflection when she saw it.

“Beer, sweetheart.” He climbed down and snagged the two bottles out of the water, holding them up to show her.

“Should you drink and drive?” she asked, as he returned and twisted off both caps.

He handed her a bottle before dropping down beside her, his bare shoulder brushing against hers. “If I can’t handle one beer, I shouldn’t be riding a hog.”

He clinked his bottle against hers before tilting his head back to take a long swallow. She admired the line of his throat before taking a sip of her own beer. The river water had chilled it to the perfect temperature and she purred at the deliciousness of the first taste.

“Nothing like a cold beer and a hot babe,” Paul said, his wink inviting her to laugh at his political incorrectness.

“I was thinking the same about a hot guy.” She leaned into him to get another dose of skin-to-skin contact. An imp of mischief made her press her bottle against his bare chest.

He yelped and grabbed her wrist to pull it away. He looked down at her with a devilish glint in his eyes. “That’s dangerous provocation from a woman wearing nothing more than a blanket. When I think of all the places I could put this bottle…” He let his gaze wander down her cocooned body.

Which made heat bloom over her skin under the scratchy wool. She went from being self-conscious about her state of undress to wishing he would touch every inch of her body. Deciding to take advantage of her newfound boldness in order to distract him from his revenge, she released her hold on the edges of the blanket. As it fell away, she leaned back on her elbows. “Do your worst.”

Instead of pouncing on her as she had hoped, he groaned her name and shifted away, lifting the beer to his lips and gulping down the rest of the bottle. Baffled and a little hurt, she sat back up and stretched out a hand to lay it against his back. “What is it?”

He jerked at her touch and she dropped her hand. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, sweetheart, I did,” he said, staring across the river again. He turned back to her with a smile so sad it made her chest hurt. “You’re so close to perfect I can’t find a fault.”

Tears burned behind her eyes and she blinked hard. If only he knew.

“We’d better get going. You’ll catch a chill once the sun starts going down.”

Leaping to his feet, he bustled around, scooping up her now-dry lingerie and handing it to her before he finished dressing.

She tried to think of a way to stop all the activity so she could drag the truth out of him, but his smooth, implacable facade was back in place. Anything she said would just slide off it. So she followed him up the path to the motorcycle, exchanging nothing more than pleasantries. She strapped on the helmet and climbed on behind him, pressing up against the sun-warmed leather covering his back.

As they roared along, she tried to savor the wind and speed and sense of being melded into one piece with Paul and his Harley, but her mind kept stumbling over the fact that her week in Sanctuary was blowing by faster than the scenery.

As she contemplated returning to her home, the image sprouted metal bars on the doors and windows, sending a shudder of revulsion through her.

She didn’t hate her home or her family. Maybe she felt a little smothered sometimes, but she understood their concern for her. It came from love.