Wrenching a hand through his hair, he went to the sink and stared at his reflection. He looked like a man who was out of air, and that was how he felt. His chest was tight and his head was spinning. The only things he knew for certain were the passion in his body and the pain in his heart.
Instead of giving in to either, he tossed some water on his face and gritted his teeth.
Get a grip.
After putting his toothbrush to vigorous use, he went to his bedroom, where he stripped naked and got into bed. Staring at the ceiling in the dim light, he saw only what he imagined her body would look like, laid out to his eyes and his mouth, its textures and contours his to learn.
Turning restlessly, he punched a pillow hard and looked at his bedside table.
That book on baseball legends wasn’t going to do the trick tonight, he thought. He was going to need something more along the lines of a ball-peen hammer to put him out. And it was a damn shame the thing was out in the barn.
5
A.J. PASSED the time while waiting to hear Devlin’s bedroom door shut by making up the couch and changing into a clean T-shirt. The stiffness in her arms made the simple tasks a study in soreness but her mind was elsewhere. She was going through the motions, moving through the room in a disconnected daze, and it was only after she knocked herself a good one walking into the coffee table that she cradled her shin and sat down.
Keeping their relationship on a business level was absolutely the right thing to do. It had been hard to concentrate on her training after she’d been in his arms and felt his tongue against hers. It was worse now that he’d kissed her good night, because she was reminded there was more than passion between them, more than the heat, pounding blood, electric feelings of lust….
A.J. shook her head.
It was worse now because that kiss had also been about their emotions. About him telling her how much he liked her in his house and her feeling as if he was opening up to her, little by little.
She had to remember she was with him to train for the Qualifier, she told herself sternly. Not to fall in love.
A.J. shuddered at the implications of the L-word.
Her heart pounded in fear and she worried she might be reading too much into their conversation over dinner. Even though he’d said something to the contrary, maybe he’d just reached out to her because he was in the mood for confidences.
The question became, did he know himself?
And thinking of the kisses they’d shared only made her more dismayed. Devlin McCloud was a man with powerful urges. Clearly. She thought again that maybe the fire between them wasn’t unusual for him, even if it was a revelation to her.
In A.J.’s experience, she wasn’t really the kind of woman men would break down a door to get to. Well, maybe if a house was on fire and they were a Good Samaritan with an ax and an air mask. But she’d never found that they’d do it out of romance.
It wasn’t that she didn’t have male colleagues. Back at Sutherland’s, she was always included in think-tank sessions on show strategy, vet consults and team dynamics. But she wasn’t someone who got asked to go out to the local watering hole to shoot pool and drink lukewarm beer with the others.
And as for dates? If A.J. thought it’d been a long time since she’d sat in a tub, the last time she’d been out with a man was back in the Stone Age. Sharing the warmth of someone else’s body, exchanging furtive kisses, experiencing a mutual longing that would shut out the world, none of that had happened in a long time.
Try, more like never.
It was like she had some missing parts and men knew it. The problem was, until she met Devlin, she’d never felt broken. The horses and the competing had been enough. Her days had always been full, and the nights…The nights had been for rest, not romance, but that had been okay with her.
So what was it about Devlin McCloud that made her think clean living was so underrated? With only two kisses, he’d managed to make her think the life of a harlot had some real potential.
Unnerved, A.J.’s mind leapt away from further thoughts about their attraction, only to latch onto feelings she’d had while she talked with him about her past. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d spoken of her mother. It was a topic she kept to herself and she was unnerved by how far she’d let Devlin into the deepest part of herself. Sitting at that table with him, in the midst of sharing their pain, her admissions had seemed only natural, but now, as she sat alone, she was torn. Between the kiss and the revelations, she’d allowed herself to become vulnerable physically and emotionally during a time when she needed her strength the most. She wasn’t going to make it through the Qualifier unless she could keep control of herself.
Looking up at the ceiling, she wondered how she was to get through to the event in one piece. And waited in silence for an answer that didn’t come.
When she heard Devlin’s door close, A.J. quietly mounted the stairs and did a quick pass through the bathroom, getting done with her normal routine in half the time. Passing his closed door as she left, she paused as she realized it was far from over between them, business-only vows to the contrary. It was a premonition that tickled down her spine and she had to tell herself that the spooky sensation was because she was exhausted and unsettled, not because she could predict the future.
If she were psychic, she’d have known it by now, she thought as she went downstairs. And she’d have bought a lot more lottery tickets over the years.
It was hours later when A.J. awoke in confusion. Turning over, she looked out of the windows. Cloud cover had taken over the night sky, smothering the light of the stars and the moon. She looked around the room, unsure what had woken her up. Blinking in the dark, she held her breath, trying to pinpoint the disturbance.
Was it a dream or something real?
Listening, she waited to see if the noise came again, while trying to convince herself it was only her subconscious. In the quiet of the night, she heard the autumn wind brushing against the house and the shutters creak on their old-fashioned hinges, but those noises were unremarkable.
After holding herself tense for some time, she was ready to go back to sleep when she heard a muffled groan, the sound of someone in pain. Throwing back the covers, she leapt off the couch. When the low sound came once more, she realized it was drifting down from the second floor. She ran up the stairs.
With visions of CPR running through her head, A.J. wrenched open the door to Devlin’s bedroom. On the antique bed, he was moaning in anguish, thrashing like a man in the throes of torture. The covers were wrapped around his naked body like a snake, trapping his limbs and adding to the traction of his nightmare. She rushed to his side.