mind, warning bells were clanging. She was crazy to be doing this, to be starting something with a man in his field, this man in particular. Doing so was risking discovery. And yet she couldn’t seem to help herself. She couldn’t stop. She had to experience Kyle’s kiss. She needed to know she could feel this way.
Last night when she should have been sleeping, her eyes had been wide open. Now, they closed dreamily, so that she had to rely on her other senses. Her other senses were floating on a serenade of sound, heat and passion.
His mouth was firm and wet, his breathing deep, his scent clean and brisk like mint and leather. The combination made her heart speed up and her thoughts slow like a lazy river on a sultry summer day. His arms and back were muscular, his legs solid and long. It had been a long time since she’d been kissed like this, since she’d reacted like this. Had she ever been kissed quite like this?
Her back arched, her body seeking closer contact even though they couldn’t get any closer through their clothes. Until this moment, they’d been strangers. His kiss changed that, and it was spinning out of control. Control was the last thing she wanted, for passion this strong didn’t come along every day.
She felt like a balloon held gently between a pair of firm lips, waiting to see if another puff of air would fill her, transforming her, or if those lips would withdraw, sending her careening backwards. The air was Kyle Merrick. Therein lay the risk.
She reminded herself that he was leaving town today, and if she ever saw him again, it would be on rare occasions and only because he was going to be Madeline’s brother-in-law. Such meetings would be entirely controllable. It made this feel less dangerous, less likely to be something she would regret. And so, for a few moments, she let herself feel, let herself react, let herself go. And go and go.
For the first time in a long time, she felt like herself. And it felt good.
She felt free.
The kiss didn’t end on a need for air. It ended with the sudden jarring and incessant ringing of both their phones.
Hers stopped before she could think clearly enough to answer. It went to voice mail, only to start up again. Whoever was calling was insistent. Kyle’s caller was just as determined.
They drew apart, their eyes glazed, mouths wet, breathing ragged. She let her arms fall to her sides. Dazedly, he raked his fingers through his dark hair.
Moving more languidly than usual, as if her hands were having trouble picking up signals from her brain, she finally reached for her cell phone and answered. Normally Summer began speaking the moment she put the phone to her ear. Today, Madeline did that from the other end.
“What?” Summer asked. “Honey, slow down.” Although vaguely aware of the low drone of Kyle’s voice, too, Summer listened intently to what Madeline was saying. “Of course I’ll come. I’ll be right there,” she said.
Summer was aware that Kyle had pocketed his phone and was watching her. “That was Riley,” he said. “I was planning to meet him and Madeline for lunch. He had to cancel.”
She glanced at him as she dropped her phone into her bag and fished inside for her keys. “I know. My call was from Madeline.”
He watched her, waiting for her to say more. When she didn’t, he said, “Riley said it’s possible she’s losing the baby.”
Summer studied his eyes. Only a few people knew Madeline was pregnant. “Riley told you about the baby?”
This time Kyle nodded. “When I saw him this morning, he was happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.”
“Madeline, too,” she said quietly.
Summer wanted to shake her fist at fate and demand that this work out for Madeline. She’d already lost so much. Now she’d found Riley, and she was happy. Happy. Was it too much to ask that she could stay that way?
“Dammit all to hell,” Kyle said.
Summer wasn’t a crier, but tears welled because, for a few moments, she understood. They both felt frustrated and helpless over Madeline’s possible medical emergency. Maybe what they said was true. Maybe there was strength in numbers, because she suddenly felt empowered. It went straight to her head. From there, it meandered to places she didn’t normally think about in the light of day.
Dresses were her usual work attire. The sleeveless, gray dress she wore today had a fitted waistband and a softly gathered skirt. It wasn’t formfitting, yet she was very aware of the places along her body where the lightweight fabric skimmed.
She felt Kyle’s gaze move slowly over her, settling momentarily at the little indentation at the base of her neck. It was all she could do to keep from placing her hand where he was looking, for she could feel the soft fluttering of her pulse at her throat. She’d learned to school her expressions, but that little vein had a mind of its own.
Last night, she’d blamed this attraction on the storm. Everybody knew people did crazy things during atmospheric disturbances. Kyle’s kiss a few minutes ago had created its own atmospheric disturbance.
But right now, Madeline needed her.
So Summer reeled in her thoughts, tamped down her passion and said, “I don’t like to be rude, but I have to go.” A handshake seemed a little formal after that kiss, so she settled on a smile. “It was nice meeting you. I mean that. Have a good flight.”
Even though it was handled politely, Kyle knew when he was being asked to leave. Since he had no legitimate reason to hang around—he did have a plane to catch after all—he walked out with Summer.
She headed for a blue sedan, and he started toward the lilac hedge in full bloom near where he’d left his Jeep. Pea gravel crunched beneath his shoes. He wasn’t sure what made him turn around and look at her. Perhaps it was the same thing that caused her to glance over her shoulder at him at the same time. Whatever the reason, it felt elemental and as fundamental as the pull of a man to a woman and a woman to a man.
Just then, a gust of wind caught in her hair and dress. And it struck him that he’d seen her before.
He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. He scanned his memory, trying to identify the reason she seemed familiar.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, obviously in a hurry to be on her way.
Deciding this wasn’t the time or place to play twenty questions, he simply said, “No. You have to go. Good luck. Tell Riley I’ll be in touch.”
She drove away, and he finally got in his Jeep. Instead of starting the engine, he sat behind the steering wheel, thinking. The sensible thing to do would be to turn the key and head for the airport to catch his two o’clock flight to L.A.
Leaving the engine idling, he slipped his laptop from its case and turned it on. He typed Summer’s name at the top of his favorite search engine. There were thousands of matches, among them a semi-famous opera singer, a retired drummer from a sixties rock band, and a teacher in Cleveland. There was even a racehorse by that name. Kyle tried another search engine and found an article archived from a local newspaper that listed Summer as the innkeeper of The Orchard Inn.
Minutes later he turned his computer off. Now what?
He wondered what was happening in the Emergency Room. He’d spent days on end at the hospital two years ago when Riley had been so close to death. Riley hadn’t asked Kyle to come this time, which was fine with him. Female troubles made all men squeamish. Besides, this was intimate. It was something that was between Riley and Madeline and Madeline’s closest friend. That brought Kyle back to Summer.
He was pretty sure he’d never met her. He would have remembered an actual encounter. As he sat strumming his fingers on the armrest, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something.
What?
She hadn’t looked familiar until a few moments ago. Did she remind him of someone else? Was that it?
His mind