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It never stops.” She closed her eyes. “You shouldn’t have come back.”
    His hand moved to her cheek. He drew it to his chest and stood just holding her in the soft, warm summer breeze, staring blankly over her head toward the deserted yard. “I had to. That letter knocked the breath out of me.”
    â€œI only asked you to give me away,” she stated.
    â€œI never expected you to want to get married right away. You’re still so young, baby.”
    â€œYou’re the only person I know who thinks that.”
    â€œI’m older than most people you know. Thirty-six. Almost thirty-seven.” His lips touched her hair tenderly. “The years are wrong.”
    â€œDear old man,” she whispered, nuzzling her face against his chest.
    Even through the fabric, he could feel her touching his skin. He shivered.
    She heard his heartbeat race, his breathing change. The hand holding her face to him moved to her shoulders and paused there.
    Her fingers went to his shirt and slowly unbuttoned it. His hand covered hers, but only for a minute. With obvious reluctance, he removed it.
    â€œThis,” he whispered, “is a very bad idea.”
    He didn’t sound as if it were. She smiled as she pushed the fabric away and put her mouth against thick hair and warm muscle. He smelled of spicy cologne and soap, and her hands buried themselves in the hair that covered his chest while she kissed him with aching delight.
    His hands caught her head, but they didn’t pull it away. They simply rested there.
    After a minute, his breathing became even more strained. He shifted and his hands dropped to her hips, bringing her against the powerful muscles of his thighs.
    He was very aroused, but she wasn’t frightened. Her hands slid around him, savoring the hard muscles of his back as she moved her mouth against a hard masculine nipple and began to suckle it.
    He jerked back, holding her away from him. “No!” he said hotly, barely able to breathe at all now.
    She looked at his rigid face and then back at his bare chest, at the faint marks where her mouth had touched him. “That was how I felt,” she said softly, “when you kissed me there.”
    â€œWe’re on public display,” he remarked.
    â€œIn a deserted yard,” she replied. She lifted her eyes to his face and searched it hungrily. “And you let me.”
    â€œYes,” he had to admit, struggling for breath. “I let you.”
    He moved her hands away from his skin and slowly rebuttoned his shirt. He looked more unsettled than ever when he moved away and helped her into the truck.
    He took longer than necessary to climb in beside her. He stowed his hat on the rack above the visor and pushed his hair back, glancing at her with unusual intensity.
    â€œWho taught you how to do that?” he asked.
    â€œI watched a movie on a late-night cable channel.”
    He started the truck. “You shouldn’t be watching programs like that.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    He searched for a reason and couldn’t find one.
    She crossed her legs under the long skirt and pushed her hair away from her face. “Troy says they should make the cable company take it off the air, anyway.”
    â€œI’ll bet he watches it.”
    â€œNot Troy,” she said with a sigh.
    He glanced at her as he backed the truck around and started through the open gate. “He’s pretty staid, I guess.”
    â€œYes,” she agreed. “He has to be. He’s a teacher, you know.”
    â€œDoes he like kids?” he asked.
    She shrugged. “Not much. But he does say wehave to have a son to inherit the ranch when we’re gone.”
    He made a rough sound in his throat.
    â€œSomething you should be thinking about, too,” she chided. “An heir.”
    His breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t let himself think about children. He stared at the road ahead, trying not to react