A Cowboy in Manhattan(22)
“I’m positive it did,” she confirmed, while his mind wandered back to their near kiss last night in the barn.
A rumble sounded in the distance, and Katrina braced her feet to the ground, turning sharply toward it.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Horses.” He listened for a moment. “Small herd.”
“Where?” She took a sideways step in his direction, her gaze darting around.
“Over the rise. Coming this way.”
They were definitely at a gallop, and Reed wondered what might have startled them. Could have been anything.
“But there’s a fence, right?” Katrina asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Between us and them?”
“Nope.”
She paled. “Nope?”
He shook his head to confirm, and she moved so close she was touching him.
The sound grew louder.
“They’re headed for the lake,” Reed reassured her.
“Are we going to be trampled?” She turned her face into his chest.
He struggled not to laugh, placing a reassuring arm around her shoulders. “No, we’re not going to be trampled. They’ll head straight downhill.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Even if they don’t, they’ll see us. They’ll go around us.”
“Are you lying? Are we about to die?”
He grasped her upper arms, putting her away from him, staring down into her eyes. “Seriously, Katrina. Calm down.”
Her eyes were wide, ice-blue with fear. “What if they’re angry?”
“They’re thirsty,” he assured her.
The herd appeared on the rise, their hooves thundering, the ground shaking. Katrina squealed and threw herself against his chest.
“See? They’re turning,” he told her.
Exactly as he’d expected, they curved around the knoll, taking the downhill route toward the lake. The dozen sleek brown, black and white bodies moved off into the distance. The sound diminished, and the ground vibrations disappeared.
Reed noticed Katrina was shaking.
“Hey.” He smoothed back her hair. “Big-city princess, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“Nothing to be sorry about.”
“Then I’m embarrassed.”
“Okay, that’s a valid emotion.”
She socked him in the bicep with the flat of her fist. “I’m not used to horses.”
“No kidding.”
Now that she’d calmed down, he allowed himself to focus on the feel of her in his arms. She was softly curved, perfectly proportioned. The top of her head only came to his chin, but she was looking up, and if he dipped his head, tipped it on an angle, his lips would be on hers.
His hand convulsed against the small of her back. Her hips pressed against the V of his thighs. Her hands were warm where they rested against his back. And a surge of desire crested in his veins.
His gaze met hers, opaque and darkened to midnight-blue. The world stilled and paused for breath around them, the birds going silent, the wind going still; even the sound of the brook was muffled in the thickening air. His free hand rose to cup her cheek, sliding into her hairline as he dipped his head. Her sweet breath mingled with his.
“Tell me no,” he rasped. Nothing short of her genuine protest would stop him this time.
But she stayed silent, stayed pressed against him, her lips slightly parted.
He cursed under his breath and crossed those final inches that brought his lips flush against hers. The burst of passion was instantaneous, igniting every fiber of his body to a roaring need. Her lips were full, tender and hot, and they tasted like summer nectar.
He urged them apart, delving deep with his tongue, his fingers tangling in her hair, his other arm wrapping fully around her waist, pressing her tight against his intense desire.
His kiss was too hard. His hold was too tight. He lifted her easily off the ground, even as a small speck of sanity that was struggling deep inside his brain ordered him to slow it down, to let her go, to back off.
But she moaned against his mouth, the vibration setting off another chain reaction of passion. Her hands fisted into his sweat-dampened shirt, while the softness of her breasts burned an imprint into his chest.
A horse whinnied in the distance, and the sound of the brook flowed into his ears. Birds came back to life, while the breeze picked up, cooling his overheated skin.