If only she could have done the same for him.
Her eyes started to blur and she blinked rapidly, swallowing the lump in her throat.
Nights had been the hardest after Jonathan’s death. One day had become another, until a year had finally passed, then another and another. She’d stayed busy with school, then work. And slowly, without her even realizing it, the darkness began to lift.
She still missed him, she always would, but she’d finally managed to say goodbye.
She stared at the trailer again and hesitated, suddenly overcome with a desire to get back in her car and leave. Jared wouldn’t want to see her, she was sure of that. There were enough painful memories of Jonathan around here. She knew how hard Jared had taken Jonathan’s death, and she would be one more reminder to him that his brother was dead.
Heart hammering, she moved toward the trailer, then drew in a deep breath and knocked on the door.
Nothing.
She knocked again. Louder.
Still nothing.
Frowning, Annie stared at the door. It was only ten o’clock. She could see there was no activity at the rig, so she doubted he was there. She started to turn away, thinking he might have gone into town, but there was a dusty black pickup parked in front of the trailer. He should be here. He was supposed to—
The sound of breaking glass from inside the trailer cut her thoughts short. She drew her brows together, then turned the knob and opened the door.
It was dark inside. The scent of cold coffee and wet clothes filled the trailer, and she nearly stumbled over a pair of damp jeans lying by the front door.
“Jared?” she called hesitantly. An unintelligible response came from the bedroom.
She took a shaky step toward the sound, then stopped. Dear Lord, what if he had someone with him and she was intruding? She started to turn away, but another cry came from the bedroom, one filled with such anguish that she couldn’t possibly ignore it.
Heart pounding, she moved through the living area, stepping around a large map laid out on the tiled floor. Smaller maps covered a brown fabric couch, and several bottles containing soil samples were lined up on an oval pine coffee table.
The bedroom door was ajar, and her fingers were trembling as she placed her hand on the knob and pushed. The room was in near darkness, except for the glow of a clock on the nightstand. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sat beside the clock.
“Jared?” She stepped closer to the bed.
At least he was alone, she noted. He moved restlessly in his sleep, tossing the covers off his shoulders and uttering another low moan.
Was he sick?
She couldn’t see his face because he was lying on his stomach, facedown in his pillow, his fists clenched tightly beside his head. Her heart thundered in her chest as she reached out a shaky hand to touch his bare shoulder. He mumbled something incoherent and his muscle twitched at her touch. His skin was hot and damp with sweat.
She leaned over the bed. “Jared, are you all—”
He moved so fast she hadn’t time to react. His hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her into the bed with him as he kicked the covers off completely. In less than a heartbeat he had her underneath him and his long hard body stretched out over her.
His naked body.
She sucked in a sharp breath, and in the next moment his lips closed over hers. She opened her mouth to say something, but his tongue invaded, kissing her with more passion, more desperation, than she could have dreamed possible.
Panic consumed her. Her cry was muffled against his mouth, and when she placed her palms against his chest and pushed she might as well have tried to bench press a two-hundred-pound weight.
Annie’s mind raced. Her heart pounded. Stay calm, she told herself. He was obviously still asleep, or else he thought she was someone else. As soon as she could manage to say something, he’d realize what he was doing and stop. There was no need for her to worry. Jared would never hurt her, she was sure of that.
At least, she thought she was sure.
His lips moved over hers in a rhythm as timeless as it was sensual, and she felt herself go weak with the force of his kiss. He moaned again, and this time there was no doubt it was pleasure, not illness or pain. The need she heard and felt from him vibrated through her, sending shivers of electricity coursing through her body.
It had been so long since a man had kissed her like this, like he wanted to consume her, and longer still since she’d felt even a spark of response. He deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth hard against her own, taking her again and again with a wild abandon that left her breathless.
And undeniably excited.
This can’t be happening.
She made a sound into his mouth that was more like a moan, and he responded by cupping her breast and moving his hips against hers. She felt an intense sudden urge to wind her arms around his neck and pull him closer. An ache spread through her belly into her thighs.
She knew she had to stop.
Immediately.
She pressed her palms more firmly against his broad hard chest and pushed. He paid no attention. His lips left her mouth and moved down her throat leaving hot, wet kisses.
“Jared,” she finally managed, but her raspy voice sounded more like encouragement than an objection. He must have thought so, too, because he pulled her tighter against him, cupping her buttocks as he moved against the juncture of her thighs.
He was fully aroused, she realized, and despite her embarrassment, she couldn’t deny that she was aroused, as well. His hand moved to the waist of her jeans, and she gasped as he quickly unsnapped the button and started to slide her zipper down.
“Jared!”
In a dim corner of his mind, Jared knew there was a problem with this dream. He just wasn’t quite sure what it was. The pleasure pumping through his body at the moment certainly wasn’t the problem, and neither was the feel of the soft smooth skin under his fingertips. This was the stuff that real dreams were made of. And since he’d never quite had one this intense before, or this enjoyable, he wasn’t quite ready to let go of it yet.
He kept his eyes closed, struggling to hold on to the fantasy—
“Jared!”
A woman called his name again, and he heard the alarm in her voice. This was no dream, he realized abruptly.
Maybe there was a problem, after all.
He opened his eyes slowly, waiting for them to adjust to the dim light. There was a woman in bed with him. A living breathing long-limbed woman with short blond hair.
And she sure as hell hadn’t been here when he’d gone to bed. He definitely would have remembered, no matter what state he’d been in.
Lifting his head, Jared peered at the woman in the semidarkness. She was breathing rapidly and her breasts were pressed firmly against his chest. The hardened peaks of her nipples burned his skin. He could feel the furious beating of her heart and realized his own heart was keeping time.
Dammit. The woman in his dream had not only been willing, she’d been eager. This woman was obviously distressed, and the pressure she exerted on his shoulders was hardly an invitation to lovemaking.
“Who are you?” he said raggedly. “And what the hell are you doing here?”
“Jared, it’s Annie,” she said breathlessly. “Annie Bailey.”
He went completely still. He blinked, then sucked in a deep breath. “What?”
“Annie Bailey,” she repeated.
Jared frowned deeply, drawing his dark brows together.
“Annie?” Bewildered, he lifted his head higher, blinking again as his eyes began to adjust to the light and focus on the woman lying beneath him. “Annie... Bailey? ”
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