Joan Johnston - Hawk's Way Grooms - Hawk's Way - The Virgin Groom

“Just know I’m here if you need me,” he said. “You’d better get to bed, too, because I’m expecting you to walk with me tomorrow.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. It would be better if you go alone.”

He stared at her, wishing he could see the expression on her face. Moonlight filtered in through the kitchen window but left her mostly in shadow. “What’s going on, Jewel? Why are you shutting me out?”

“I got along fine without you for six years, Mac. What makes you think I need you now?”

Mac was stunned as much by the virulence in her voice as by what she had said. “If you want me out of here, I’m gone.”

She clutched his forearm as he rose, rubbing at her eyes with the knuckles of her other hand. “Don’t leave. Don’t leave.”

He pulled her up and into his arms, and she grabbed him tight around his neck and sobbed against his shoulder. He rubbed her back with his open palms, aware suddenly that she was wearing a thin, sleeveless cotton nightgown and nothing else.

His body turned hard as a rock in two seconds flat.

His equipment worked all right. At the wrong time. With the wrong woman.

“Damn it all to hell,” he muttered.

Jewel needed his comfort, not some male animal lusting after her. He kept their hips apart, not wanting his physical response to frighten or distress her. “Tell me what’s wrong, Jewel. Let me help,” he crooned in her ear.

“It’s too embarrassing,” she said, her face pressed tight against the curve of his shoulder.

“Nothing’s too embarrassing for us to talk about, my little carbuncle.”

She hiccuped a laugh. “Carbuncle? Isn’t that an ugly inflammation—”

“It’s a red precious stone. I swear.”

She relaxed, chuckling, and it took all the willpower he had to keep from pulling her tight against him.

“You always could make me laugh,” she said. “Oh, Mac, I wish you’d come back a long time ago. I missed you.”

“And I missed you. Now tell me what’s so embarrassing that you don’t want to talk about it?”

She sighed, and her breasts swelled against his chest, soft and warm. His heartbeat picked up. Lord, she was dangerous. Why couldn’t this have happened with Eve? Why did it have to be Jewel?

Her fingers began to play in the hair at his nape. He wondered if she knew what she was doing to him and decided she couldn’t possibly. She wouldn’t purposely turn him on. What she wanted was comfort from a friend. And he intended to give it to her.

But he wasn’t any more able to stop his body from responding than he had been capable of making it respond. All he could do was try to ignore the part of him that was insisting he do something. He focused his attention on Jewel. She needed his help.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he urged.

“I wish things were different, that’s all.”

“Don’t we all?” he said, thinking of his own situation. “But frankly, that doesn’t sound embarrassing enough to keep to yourself. What is it? Got bucked off your horse? Happens to the best of us. Broke a dish? Do it all the time. If you broke a heart I might worry, but you can always buy another dish.”

She laughed. The bubbly, effervescent sound he hadn’t heard for six years. He pulled her close and rocked her in his arms in the old, familiar, brotherly way.

She stiffened, and he realized what he had done. His hips, with the hard bulge in front, were pressed tight against hers. There was no way she could mistake his condition.

“Damn, Jewel,” he said, backing away from her, putting her at arm’s length and gripping her hands tightly in his.

He smiled, but she didn’t smile back.

When she pulled free, he let her go. “We can still talk,” he said, wanting her to stay, wanting to confess the truth to her. She was still his best friend. But somehow things had changed. He couldn’t tell her everything, not the most private things. Not anymore.

Maybe he had been wrong to expect her to confide in him. Maybe she felt the same awkwardness he did, the distance that had never been there before. A distance he had put there, because he saw her not just as a friend, but as a woman he wanted to kiss and touch.

“I’m going to bed, Mac.”

“Will you walk with me tomorrow?”

“I don’t think—”

“Please, Jewel. You’re my best friend. I’d really like the company.”

She hesitated so long, he thought she was going to refuse. “All right, Mac. I suppose I owe you that much.” She turned and left without another word.

He waited until her bedroom door closed before he moved, afraid that if he did, he would go after her.

He wondered what had been troubling her. He wondered what she would have done if he had lowered his head and sucked on her breasts through the thin cotton. Blood pulsed through his rock-hard body, and he swore under his breath.

Mac went to bed, but he didn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, troubled by vivid erotic fantasies of himself and Jewel Whitelaw. Their legs entangled, their bodies entwined, his tongue deep in her mouth, his shaft deep inside her. She was calling to him, calling his name.

Mac awoke tangled in the sheets, his body hot, hard and ready, his heart racing. And all alone.

He heard Jewel calling from outside the door. “Mac. Are you awake?” She knocked twice quietly. “It’s time to walk.”

Mac groaned. “I’ll be with you in a minute.” As soon as he was decent.

From the look of Jewel at the breakfast table, she hadn’t slept any better than he had. She was wearing something even less attractive than the sweatshirt and cutoffs she had worn previously. It didn’t matter. He saw her naked.

Mac shook his head to clear it. The vision of her breasts, large and luscious as peaches, and her long, slim legs wrapped around his waist, remained as vivid as ever.

“Are you all right?” Jewel asked.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

She chattered the whole way to the canyon, but he would have been hard-pressed to remember a word of what she had said or his own responses.

Everything was different. Something was missing. And something had been added.

He wanted their old relationship back. He was determined to quench any desire he might feel for her, so things could get back to an even footing. He figured the best way to start was to bring the subject out into the open and deal with it. On the walk back to the house, he did.

“About what happened last night…It shouldn’t have happened.” His comment was vague, but he knew she understood exactly what he meant when pink roses blossomed on her cheekbones.

She shrugged. “I was just a woman in a skimpy nightgown.”

“Jewel, I—”

She stopped and turned to him, looking into his eyes, her gaze earnest. “Please, Mac. Can we pretend it never happened?”

He gave a relieved sigh. “That’s exactly what I’d like to do. It was an accident. I never intended for it to happen. I wish I could promise it won’t happen again, but—” He shot her a chagrined look. “I’ll be sure you’re never embarrassed again. Am I forgiven?”

“There’s no need—”

“Just say yes,” he said.

“Yes.”

She turned abruptly and started walking again, and he followed after her.

“I’m glad that’s over with,” he said. “I can’t afford to lose a friend as good as you, Jewel.”

“And I can’t afford to lose a friend like you, Mac.”

Jewel’s eyes were as brown and sad as a motherless calf. Mac wished she had told him why she was crying last night. He wished she had let him comfort her. If she ever gave him another chance, he was going to do it right. He wasn’t going to let his hormones get in the way of their friendship.

When they got back to the house, she hurried up the back steps ahead of him. “I get the shower first!”