Sara Orwig

Standing Outside The Fire


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you flew into town tonight?” she asked.

      “This afternoon. I was with my friends the Remingtons and Whitewolfs.”

      “I’ve heard about them. And I’ve met Mike Remington. They were in the military with you and were included in John’s will.”

      “That’s right.”

      “If you were with them in the afternoon—you already had dinner when you ate again with me.”

      He grinned. “I wanted to eat with you.”

      She rubbed his flat stomach. “Can’t tell you’ve had two dinners.”

      “I’ve worked it off,” he said, and she smiled. “The Remingtons wanted me to stay with them tonight, but I came back to the hotel.”

      “I’m glad. This never would have happened if you had stayed at their house. Or if it hadn’t rained, because I would have flown into town and gotten my car and driven home, but that’s why I’m in the hotel. Earlier tonight they had a gully washer and a bridge to the ranch is out.”

      “I would have come to Texas sooner if I had known about you.”

      She smiled at him as she stroked her hand over his hip and down his thigh. Something flickered in the depths of his eyes and he rolled away to stand, picking her up in his arms.

      He carried her to the shower where he set her on her feet and turned on the water, watching her all the time. They soaped each other off, slowly, their gazes locked, and desire flared again in Erin and she knew he wanted her. He was hard, his shaft thick, ready for loving. She wound her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

      He turned off the water and grabbed towels and they toweled each other dry and in minutes were kissing again. He carried her back to bed to pull her into his arms.

      “I don’t want to hurt you anymore tonight. We’ll wait, darlin’. We can kiss and cuddle for now.”

      “I didn’t know it could be like that,” she said as she snuggled into his embrace. He ran his fingers up and down her back.

      “It can get better than this for you. Long, slow, loving, and it’ll be the best ever.”

      As he held her with his fingers lightly tangled in her hair, he asked, “How did you get to be manager of the ranch? You’re young for that job.”

      “Not so young. I’ve grown up around ranch work all my life.” She lay wrapped against him, her legs entangled with his, the sheet under her arms, and she gazed into his blue eyes. Bubbly, excited, she wanted to talk to him, to touch him, to kiss him. It was an effort to pay attention to his conversation, and she fought the temptation to pull him close and kiss him again. His fingers moved over her shoulder and down her arm, tingles dancing in their wake.

      “I inherited my job,” she replied breathlessly. His light strokes that were casual were stirring desire. “My father was the manager, but he had poor health. My mother died when I was young.”

      “I lost my dad when I was young—I was eleven,” Boone said. “How old were you when your mom died?”

      “Fourteen and my sister, Mary, was sixteen.”

      “It’s rough, but you survive because you have to.”

      “Through the years my dad taught me how to do the things he did, so when I had to take over, it was gradual and I knew what I was doing.”

      “And you like your work?”

      “I love it. That ranch is my whole life. My family has worked for the Frates through generations—since the first Frates settled on the land.” She touched Boone’s chin lightly, gazing up at him. “Are you coming down here to try to make a lot of changes?”

      “Right now, I want to see the place and how it works. You can help me with that.”

      Her heart skipped a beat as she gazed up at him.

      He kissed her lightly on the temple. “You’re not at all what I imagined. I’m still amazed.”

      “John thought the world of you and the other guys who rescued him,” she said.

      “I’m still in shock over my inheritance. All three of us were stunned to learn we inherited fortunes from John Frates.”

      “You saved his life when he was held hostage,” she said while Boone toyed with locks of her hair. She felt the faint tugs against her scalp.

      “That was our job in Special Forces. We were just doing what we were supposed to do,” he said. “That’s the way all of us feel about it.”

      “There were four of you, weren’t there?”

      “Yes,” Boone said, his eyes getting a faraway look. “Colin Garrick. He was killed in another operation later. An exceptional man.”

      “I’m sure all of you were exceptional men. Exceptional, delicious, sexy, confident,” she whispered, showering light kisses on his throat and shoulder and down on his chest.

      His arms tightened around her, and he turned her face up to his, and she saw the desire that had rekindled in his eyes. He pulled her closer in his arms and kissed her, pushing her down on the bed and leaning over her.

      She wound her arm around his neck and her other hand ran down his smooth, muscled back, down to his firm buttocks. She was still astounded she was in bed with him, being loved by him.

      “Darlin’, I think you’ve demolished me,” he drawled in a sleepy voice.

      She laughed softly. “I hope I have burned you to cinders.”

      Smiling at her, he rolled onto his back, pulling her against him with one arm around her waist while he toyed with her hair with his other hand.

      “Erin, darlin’, you’re wonderful,” he whispered.

      She kissed his shoulder, and his arm tightened while his hand combed through her hair and then danced over her back to her buttocks, then down along her thigh.

      “I guess you’re not too demolished,” she whispered when his arousal pressed against her.

      “Yes, I am, but you’re fanning fires back to life,” he said in a husky voice, “but we’ll wait.”

      He fell asleep in her arms and Erin’s lids soon closed and she was asleep.

      Some time later, she woke and stirred, momentarily disoriented as she started to stretch and felt a warm body against her. The arm around her waist tightened, pulling her close. Her eyes flew wide as memory crashed over her.

      Three

      She shifted away to look down at the man beside her. Boone Devlin. Her face flushed, and she felt hot all over to remember the night and how she had willingly fallen into his arms and into his bed.

      Why had she been so easy? As quickly as she asked herself the question, she knew the answer. The man was sexy, seductive, irresistible.

      She had never before been tempted like last night. Through high school, college and the years afterward—she was twenty-six years old and a virgin until Boone. What had been so magical and seductive about him? She knew the answers to that question. Each facet of the man bewitched her.

      And she had had wine, something she was unaccustomed to, and at the time, something she didn’t think she was feeling. But looking back now, she knew the glasses of wine had had an effect on her.

      If she hadn’t had a drop of wine, would she still have let him seduce her? She wriggled away enough to turn on her side, prop her head up and look down at him.

      She had lost her virginity to Boone after being so careful for so many years. Why did he seem so special, his lovemaking so right? Was she sorry? She knew she wasn’t.

      His thick lashes were feathered against his cheeks. He was