Sadie steered the conversation back to a more amiable subject. “Tagg, did you know that Blue Yonder sired a stallion? I hear he’s a beauty, too.”
“Is that so? I bet he’s spoken for already.” Tagg inhaled deep. He’d wanted to buy that Arabian for the past three years, but the owner wasn’t selling. The stallion had pure bloodlines and ancestry that could be traced back to Spain. “The Kents refused to even talk to me. Can’t say as I blame them. If I had that horse, I wouldn’t let another horseman get within a hundred yards of him.”
“There’s a list a mile long and an acre wide bidding on the foal.”
“What’d they name him?”
“Wild Blue,” John said.
Tagg pursed his lips. “Great name. I guess that ship has sailed. I’d bet my last dollar they keep him themselves.”
Sadie shook her head. “You never know.”
Tagg shrugged it off. He didn’t think so, but he wouldn’t argue with her.
The food was delivered to the table—pasta with scallops and shrimp and about a dozen other things in a lemon wine sauce. There was no shortage of garlic, either. Tagg couldn’t remember eating a better meal.
He glanced at Callie. She’d ordered an antipasto salad that overflowed the plate. He was glad to see she’d eaten more than half of it already. She wasn’t shy when it came to eating, but she did tend to eat lighter fare. And she’d refused the red wine that flowed into everyone else’s glasses.
He watched her sip a glass of water carefully, then say something to Sadie. Callie looked elegant tonight. Dressed in black, her creamy skin glistened under candlelight and the play of light skin against dark hair and eyes made him stir with desire. He remembered how she looked minus the dress. It was a memory never far from his mind—a memory he’d like to duplicate.
After dinner the Cosgroves drove them back to the hotel and bid them both good-night. They made arrangements to see the horses after breakfast the next morning.
He entered the penthouse suite after Callie and walked straight to the bar. “Are you tired?” he asked.
“Not really.” She set her purse down on the sofa and looked out the window to the bright lights below.
He remembered Callie had been drinking rum during that time in Reno, so he poured her a rum and cola and spilled two fingers of whiskey in a tumbler for himself. He brought the drink over to her. “You should be. It’s been a long day.”
She turned from the window and stared at the tumbler in his hand. “Oh, no. No, thanks. I’m not … thirsty.” Her shoulders stiffened.
Tagg raised his brows. She seemed pensive and nervous for some reason. “Okay.” He set the drink down on the cocktail table behind him and when he turned back to Callie, she was staring out the window again. “Everything all right?”
She nodded.
He edged up beside her and glanced out the window, sipping his drink. “You’re not drinking tonight. Is that because you don’t want a repeat of Reno?”
She turned to him, her gaze warm and soft. “I didn’t sleep with you because I’d been drinking. If that’s what you think.”
He furrowed his brows. “Seems I wasn’t doing much thinking that night at all.”
A low self-deprecating laugh escaped her throat. “So I’ve been told.” She turned back to the window, her arms folded around her middle. “You’ve made that very clear,” she said quietly.
Tagg grinned. “That wasn’t an insult, Callie.”
“Was hardly a glowing review, either.”
He set his glass down and walked in front of her, blocking her view from anything but him. He lifted her chin with his thumb and gazed into her beautiful eyes. She flinched, not in fear but with surprise, then lowered her arms to her sides. The anticipation on her face gave him pause. She blinked and inhaled a sharp breath.
“It was a compliment.”
She searched his eyes. “How so?”
“You made me forget things I’m damned determined not to forget.” He glanced at her mouth and saw her tremble. “Why are you so nervous?”
“I’m not,” she blurted, lifting her chin up and taking a step back. “I have nothing to be nervous about.” She turned then and reached for her purse sitting on the sofa. “You know, I think I am tired. I’m going to bed.”
Tagg reached his arm out and snaked it around her waist, pulling her close. Her intoxicating scent destroyed his patience.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Are you really tired, Callie?”
She shook her head no. Then gazed deep into his eyes.
He set both hands on her waist, enjoying the lush feel of her hips in his outspread palms. Silence filled the room. Fading dusky beams of starlight filtered through the window to cast them in shadows.
He angled his head and moved closer. His legs met with her thighs. An ache of need began growing. He gave in to the sensation and brought his mouth down on hers. She froze, her lips refusing to respond for a second, and Tagg was ready to back off, lest he seduce an unwilling woman. But then she moved closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, crushing her breasts to his chest. She gave into the kiss then with effort and passion, the way he remembered her. The way they’d kissed before.
She was sweetly alluring, tentative yet fiery. Tagg relished having her in his arms.
They came up for air a full minute later, both breathing hard. Callie reached her arm around to move her hair to her right side, the locks falling freely on one nearly bare shoulder. It was a reflective move, one to give her time to think, he surmised. Their lips still close, she softly spoke. “I didn’t think you wanted this. You said it would never happen again.”
Tagg closed his eyes briefly. He had said that. And he’d meant it at the time. “I guess I was fooling myself.”
She shook her head slightly, her eyes questioning. “What changed?” she asked.
You, he wanted to answer. Or rather my perception of you. He’d gotten to know her, and liked what he saw. She loved horses. She loved Arizona and small-town life. She even begrudgingly loved her miserable father. Her story about Amber and Georgie tugged at something primal and protective in him. But he wouldn’t tell her that. He wouldn’t tell her that she’d gotten to him. That maybe meeting up with her in Reno had been the best thing that could have happened to him.
There’d be no purpose in that. He had no place in his heart for another woman. He’d closed himself off emotionally. There was no going back. So he told her a half truth and one she would understand. “Jed.”
Her eyes snapped up. “Jed?”
“He was panting after you, plain as day.” He lifted a curl that rested on her chest, watching it fall from his fingertips. “I came to the rescue.”
“And you stepped in to save me?”
Tagg looked away before peering into her eyes. “Yeah, something like that.”
She seemed a little baffled. “Were you jealous?”
“No,” he lied. He’d seen more green than his pasture after heavy rains.
She narrowed her eyes, a skeptical look on her face. Then with determination, she moved closer to him and brushed an air kiss to his mouth. His groin tightened. “Not even a little?”
He shook his head, keeping his eyes trained on her mouth.
She came even closer, until their mouths were almost touching again, then licked at his lips with her very skilled