Tell Me Your Secrets...

“C’mon,” Sloan said. “We can rinse off in the stream before we ride back.”

The moment I was on my feet, he scooped me up in his arms, carried me into the stream, and when the water reached his waist, abruptly let me go. Then to top it off, he placed a hand on my head and shoved me under.

I was sputtering when I finally surfaced. And Sloan was laughing. It took me two tries to get my feet under me, and he rewarded me by cupping water in both hands and throwing it in my face. I choked, lost my footing and went under again. When I came up, I saw that he’d gone into fresh gales of laughter.

My heart did more than a flutter this time. It went into a full-fledged somersault. I pressed my hand against my chest. This serious, enigmatic man I’d been fascinated with from the first time I’d seen his picture had just dropped me in a stream and purposely dunked me.

It was while I was watching him, his head thrown back, the sound of his laugh filling the air around us, that I admitted to myself what I’d been trying to deny since the first time I’d looked into his eyes. I could fall in love with Sloan Campbell.

A mix of panic and joy swirled through me. Talk about complications. I had no idea how to plot my way out of this. And since I didn’t want to think about it and was barely ready to accept it, I decided that I could at least get even with him. Drawing in a deep breath, I slipped under the water, then pushed off in his direction. Circling around, I came up behind him, grabbed one of his feet and yanked it hard. Looking up through the water, I saw his arms flail and then he pitched forward like a felled tree.

Of course, my revenge would have been more perfect if I could have escaped unscathed. But he twisted, grabbed my waist and pulled me close. In the wavering shafts of light piercing the gray water, he looked like some kind of sea god, and I wanted him as fiercely as I had such a short time before.

As if he’d read my mind, he kissed me. Sensations shot through me—the chill of the water, the heat of his mouth and hands. The hardness of his fingers at my waist, the soft, thorough movement of his tongue on mine.

Suddenly we were shooting upward. Sloan dragged his mouth from mine, and we both drew in huge gulps of air.

“We could have drowned.”

“We might yet,” he said as he lifted me and positioned my legs around him. “I want you.” Suiting actions to words, he pushed into me. But it wasn’t far enough. I tightened my legs around him and tried to wiggle closer.

“Hold on tight.”

I thought then that he was going to move to the bank of the stream, but instead, he withdrew and pushed in again, withdrew and pushed in again, teasing me. When he withdrew the third time, he paused. “I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m on the pill.”

His gaze narrowed. “Are you involved with someone back in L.A.?”

“No. I like to be prepared.”

“Good.” He thrust into me this time all the way. “That’s good.”

I couldn’t have agreed more. Then we both began to move. The water was working against us, slowing us down, keeping the ultimate pleasure just out of reach until I thought I would simply go mad.

“Now.” Sloan’s voice was hoarse, his fingers digging into my hips. “Come with me, Brooke.”

When he thrust into me, I did.

18

THE AFTERNOON SUN was low in the sky and the shadows long when Sloan finally gave me a leg up onto Lace Ribbons. I felt both guilt and reluctance as I settled myself in the saddle. Guilt because we’d tarried longer than we probably should have. With each moment that passed, my “wedding day” was getting closer, and my masquerade would be over. So would the best chance I had of finding out what had happened to Cameron. I glanced back at the stream. In spite of that, I was reluctant to let go of this time that I’d spent together with Sloan. How would I feel when I had to leave Sloan forever?

As if he’d read my mind—which I was beginning to think he could—he laid a hand over mine. “We have to talk about us.”

Panic skittered up my spine. I thought I knew what he wanted to tell me, and I didn’t want to hear it yet. “First things first. We have to find out what happened to Cameron.”

His hand tightened on mine before he released me. “Then we’re coming back here where we can be alone. Promise me.”

“All right.” I managed a smile. “Although this is not the safest place to come. We nearly drowned twice by my count.”

“Nonsense. You just need a little practice building up the time you can hold your breath. I’d be glad to help you.”

“Oh, really? The way I recall it I nearly had to use CPR on you that last time we went under.”

He was laughing as he untied Saturn.

I was finding this new playful side of Sloan delightful. Inspired by it, I called, “I’ll beat you to the stables.” Without waiting for him to mount up, I loosened my hold on the reins and used my heels on Lace Ribbons.

She responded beautifully, springing into a canter that took us quickly out of the trees. Then at my urging she accelerated into a full gallop. I leaned over her and said, “We have a head start, girl. Let’s make the most of it.”

If we’d started out together, Saturn and Sloan would have left us in the dust, but with the handicap I’d given us, we might have a chance. “C’mon Lacey.” Air parted, then whipped past us and the ground fell away beneath us. I could hear hoofbeats now. Sloan and Saturn were gaining on us.

If I stayed on the route that Austin had chosen, there would be no contest. So instead, I bided my time and tried a surprise. When Sloan was nearly on me, I veered right and headed for a fence. He’d have to check his momentum to follow me, and that would buy me some time.

“C’mon, Lacey,” I crooned to her. “Show me what you can do.” I bent over her as she raced forward. The fence was only about ten yards away when I felt the saddle slip to the right. I leaned hard to my left, trying to compensate. But the horse faltered, unsettled by the shift in balance. Panicked, she reared up. Dropping the reins, I grabbed for her mane and kicked free of the stirrups. She reared up again, and when she came down this time, she bucked, lunged forward, and I hurtled over her head.

Time seemed to slow while I was airborne. My whole life didn’t flash before my eyes but I did manage to conjure up an image of my first riding instructor. A tall man with the build of Ichabod Crane, his constant advice to me had been to tuck and roll. I tried, but when I rolled my head smacked hard into something. Stars exploded and the world went black.

I KEPT MY EYES CLOSED because the pounding behind them was more muted then. I could hear Sloan’s voice. He was talking in that soft, authoritative tone that was becoming so familiar to me. The other voice belonged to James, and his tone was angry but hushed, so I couldn’t make the words out. Or maybe I just didn’t want to put in the effort.

Sloan had carried me to James’s suite of rooms as soon as we’d arrived at the ranch. The trip back was pretty much a blur because I kept drifting in and out of consciousness. Now I wanted very much to sleep. To escape.

Cool fingers closed over my wrist. “Don’t go to sleep, Cameron.”

The knife-sharp pain in my head became more intense. As did the memory of my mad race across the field toward the fence, the slipping saddle and the breath-stealing impact of my body slamming into the ground. Pushing the images away, I tried to sit up and firm hands settled on my shoulders.

“Not yet.”

I opened my eyes and found myself looking into Doc Carter’s. He released my wrist and began to shine a small light into my eyes. “Her eyes look fine. Her pulse is steady.”

“You don’t have to talk about me as if I’m not in the room.”

Doc Carter held up three fingers. “How many?”

“Three.”

“Who’s the current president of the United States?”

“George Bush. With a W in the middle.”

Doc nodded at me. “Fine. And what’s your name?”

I opened my mouth and caught myself just before I said Brooke. “Cameron McKenzie.”

He smiled down at me. “So far so good. It’s been a long time since you were unseated by a horse, young lady.”

Then abruptly, it wasn’t Doc Carter’s face leaning over mine. It was Sloan’s.

“How do you feel?” His face was drawn with worry, and his mouth was set in a grim line.

Suddenly worried myself, I wiggled toes, fingers. “Is anything broken except my head?”

“No. I checked you out pretty thoroughly before I moved you.”

“I don’t see any signs of a concussion,” Doc Carter said. “But I could drive her into San Diego.”

“No.” Sloan and I spoke in unison.

I levered myself into a sitting position and managed not to wince. “I’m not going to a hospital. I had my fill of them after my mugging.” And I had less than twenty-four hours left to find out what had happened to Cameron. “I just fell off a horse. I’ll live.” And then I remembered. “The saddle…”

“The girth was cut,” Sloan said as he took one of my hands in his. “The run created too much stress and it tore the rest of the way.”

I gripped Sloan’s hand tighter, but I kept my gaze on Doc Carter. “Who saddled my horse?”