Joan Hohl - A Man Apart

Justin nodded. “So she said. She suggested Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania.” He polished off a third slice of pizza, grinning as he again held out his plate to her.

Hannah shook her head as if in disbelief of his capacity for food, but slid another slice onto his plate.

He plowed on. “I started in Virginia, where there were two possibilities. From there I drove into Maryland, where there were three. I stayed in a motel in Pennsylvania last night and got an early start this morning. I toured one in Lancaster County, another two in Bucks County, and the last one in Berks, in the Oley Valley.”

“Oh, I’ve been there,” Hannah said, patting her lips with a paper napkin. “My assistant is a dedicated antique-shop crawler. I go with her every so often, and one time she drove through the valley, to Oley Village, I guess that’s what they call it. It’s not very big, but charming.”

“I didn’t get to see the village or town, or whatever it’s called. But the valley is beautiful, even in winter. And the property I looked at has definite possibilities.” He arched a brow, wondering at the tiny, wistful smile that quirked her lips. “I’m ready for my coffee now.”

“Of, of course, I forgot,” she said, sliding her chair back and rising. “What’s for dessert?” she asked, moving to the automatic coffee unit set on the countertop.

“You’ll see,” Justin answered, puzzling over her odd expression as she prepared the coffee. His puzzlement deepened as she filled a red enamel teakettle then put it on to boil and took a flower bedecked porcelain china teapot from the back of the stove and a box of teabags from the cabinet. She placed a couple of bags in the pot.

“You’re not having coffee?” He didn’t try to hide the surprise in his voice; he had firsthand knowledge of her passion for coffee…among other passions. He had to turn his mind to something more mundane when he felt his body stir in reaction to the sensual direction of his thoughts. “What’s with the teapot?”

Hannah gave a careless shrug of her elegant shoulders. “I’ve developed a liking for green tea lately,” she said, not looking at him as she concentrated on pouring the now boiling water into the teapot. “It’s supposed to be very good for you, you know.”

“Not for me,” Justin said dryly. “I’ll stick with my coffee…and beer.”

“Well, here’s your coffee,” Hannah said, in a strangely choked voice. She set the steaming mug on the table, before going to the fridge for milk.

“Thanks,” Justin said, pondering her odd behavior; Hannah had held the mug out in front of her as if she was afraid it would attack her. Weird. He took the carton of milk she handed him, and watched her as she returned to the countertop for the teapot and a mug.

“I don’t understand,” she said, obviously avoiding his gaze, as she carefully poured the pale tea into the mug. “Why would Adam be interested in another horse farm for the company, when you already have the ranch?”

“At the ranch, we breed and train Morgans, primarily for the rodeo circuit. And, as I already mentioned, we’re thinking about branching out, breeding and training Thoroughbreds.”

She took a delicate sip of her tea, grimaced, set down the mug and added sugar. “How many more farms are on your schedule to look at? Any other states?”

“No more states, no more farms,” Justin said, singeing his tongue. “Damn, that’s hot, I felt it burn all the way down,” he added, reaching across the table for her half-full water glass. “Do you mind?” His hand hovered above the glass.

Hannah shook her head. “Help yourself.”

Justin did, soothing the sting with a gulp of the cool water. “I’m scheduled to fly out of Baltimore on the red-eye tomorrow night.”

“Oh, I see. Are you flying home to Montana, or to Wyoming to report to Adam?” Hannah’s expression didn’t alter by even a shadow. She looked as she had the first time he met her, mildly interested but cool and composed. Detached.

Justin felt a wrenching disappointment. He knew, better than anyone, that beneath her facade of cool, composed detachment, a spark lay in wait to blaze into roaring flames of passion.

Dammit to hell! Why was she in hiding from him? For she was in hiding. He had sensed it the minute she had stepped from the elevator and had seen him by her door.

“To Wyoming to confer with Adam, then back to Montana,” he said, working hard to control the anger and frustration building inside him.

“So you’re driving back to Baltimore tonight…or have you booked a hotel here in the city?”

Justin couldn’t read her expression, as she had raised her cup to her mouth, concealing the lower half of her face from him. But her voice was even more detached, cooler. The distant sound of it fanned the flame of his anger. What was she playing at, looking, speaking as if they were nothing more than casual acquaintances, when it had been less than a month since they had been passionate lovers?

Well, Justin decided, getting to his feet and circling the table to her, he wasn’t about to play along. He had been missing her something fierce from the moment she had driven away from him in Deadwood.

Hell, he had tossed and turned every night, even dreamed about holding her, caressing her, kissing her. Damned if he was going to walk away without tasting her.

Coiling his hands around her upper arms, he drew her up, out of her chair, pulling her body against his.

“Justin…what…” Hannah began, her voice no longer cool, but surprised by his action.

“I think you know what,” he murmured, sliding his arms around her to bring her to him, and lowering his head to crush her mouth with his.

He had meant it to be a forceful kiss, but the instant his lips made contact with hers, he gentled, drinking in the taste, the scent, the feel of her. It was like coming home, where he belonged.

The alien sensation rattled Justin deep inside. After the blow Angie had delivered, he’d never believed he would feel such a way again.

Justin was on the point of lifting his head, breaking his near-desperate contact with her mouth, when Hannah curled her arms tightly around his neck and speared her fingers into his hair.

Needing to breathe, Justin raised his head just far enough to gaze into Hannah’s eyes. “No, I am not driving back to Baltimore tonight, nor have I booked a room here in the city,” he said between quick indrawn breaths. “I was hoping you’d let me spend the night here. With you. In your bed.”

“Justin, I…I…”

Her eyes were warm, almost misty, the way they had looked every time she was aroused. Hannah wanted him, maybe almost as much as he wanted her. Justin knew it. Relieved, he silenced her with the brush of his mouth, back and forth over hers.

“Hannah,” he whispered against her parted lips, into her mouth. “I’m on fire for you. Come to bed with me.”

“Justin…”

He silenced her again, damn near terrified she was going to refuse. He ached, not only from the steadily growing, hardening of his body, but inside. He stifled a groan when she pulled her head back.

“Justin, wait, listen,” she pleaded, her fingers tangling in his hair, hanging on as though she was afraid he’d let her go. “We haven’t cleared the dinner things away-or had dessert.”

He laughed, because it sounded so…Hannah. And because the exultation filling him had to escape.

He smiled and rested his forehead against hers. “It wouldn’t be the first time, sweet Hannah. As we did before, many times before, we can clean it up later. And we can have the dessert for breakfast.”

“Dessert for breakfast?” She pretended shock.

Laughing softly, Justin began an exploration of the fine, satiny skin of her face with his lips. “What I brought will do fine for breakfast, or for dessert after breakfast.”