“You yelled at me.”
“It was either that or throw you across the kitchen table.”
“Too bad I wasn’t given a choice.”
When Tate laughed, she could feel it all over her body. “Not you,” he whispered. “You hold yourself in too high esteem for that.”
“Do I?”
Casey leaned her head back. His lips moved down to her breast. With his tongue on the tip, the humming that ran through her body grew too loud for her to remember words. All she was aware of was this man and this moment.
She wasn’t sure how it happened, but all their clothes came off. When their nude bodies touched, she thought she might die if he didn’t come to her completely.
But he didn’t. He continued to kiss her, to touch her, until it was as though her very soul left her. She was all sensation, all desire.
She ran her hands over his body, caressing each muscle and its contours.
His hands moved down between her legs and parted them. When he moved on top of her, she was more than ready for him, and he slipped inside her with velvet ease.
Tate took his time, slowly building, his strokes gradually increasing in strength and speed. His breath was by her ear. She could hear him, feel him, sense him, smell him.
When he came, she was ready for him, and her release went through her entire body. Waves of pleasure passed through her, making her body convulse.
Tate held her close to him, not moving off her, and the weight felt good. The hardness of his taut, muscular body was a perfect contrast to her softness.
It was a while before he rolled away and pulled her over so her head rested on his chest. “I wasn’t prepared for this, so maybe we should talk about my lack of protection.”
“Pill,” she murmured. Right now she didn’t want anything to ruin this magic moment.
He kissed her forehead and snuggled her to him, her leg across his. The rain kept coming down, isolating them. When it grew cool, Tate pulled an old lap robe across them, and when the dust flew up, they coughed and laughed, but they didn’t detach from each other.
“I want to thank you,” Tate said softly, his voice barely a whisper.
“For this?”
“No, but yes. Thank you for taking my mind off my…my fear of seeing this place.” He paused before continuing. “Nina and I kept track of Tattwell since we were kids. We knew it changed hands twice after my mother had to sell it, and both times the owners wanted to subdivide the land and put in mass housing. The town of Summer Hill fought them and won. But the place was virtually abandoned for about ten years.”
“Why didn’t you want to see it?”
“My goal had always been to make enough money acting to buy it and present it to Mom as a gift, but she died before I could afford it. I felt guilty and…” He shrugged. “I told Nina there were too many memories attached to the place and that I didn’t want to be taken back to the stories of the past. Or I didn’t want the press to find out. Whatever. I came up with a thousand excuses. But then one day Kit Montgomery showed up at my trailer on set and told me we were related. Nina said that it was fate that Kit had shown up, so I could buy Tattwell through him without the press knowing.”
“Maybe it was fate.”
“Nah. It was Kit’s secretary. Someone in Kit’s family works on genealogy and found out that we’re related. When he made an offhand comment to that fact, his secretary said that if he didn’t get her an autographed photo of me she was going to quit.”
“Did you give it?”
“Of course. Kit and I spent a weekend drinking and bellyaching about relatives and employees. When I got sober—which took a while, as that man can drink!—I went to his office in D.C. and had photos taken with everyone. And…”
“And what?”
“I had a friend, an assistant director, who I’d told Kit about, and he said I should bring him. Kit arranged a blind date with my friend and the secretary’s widowed daughter. They’re married now and expecting their first child.”
She looked up at him. “That’s a wonderful story. Was the matchmaking your idea or Kit’s?”
“His. He likes to manage people’s lives.”
“Like yours? And mine?”