Everglades Wildfire Read online

  The first of the heavy rain splattered onto the ground. The fat drops fell softly, soaking the back of Amber’s shirt. The density of the rain increased, coming heavier. Soon rivulets ran down her face, and she blinked against the moisture that settled in her lashes. Cool water streamed down her cheeks, dripped off her fingers.

  Rick tilted his head back, looking upward, letting the water fall onto his face. Rain drizzled down his neck, soaked his chest, making it mold to his hard muscles. “We may as well finish this somewhere else.”

  His control made her mad. “There isn’t anything to finish.”

  Without waiting for her to agree, he grabbed her hand, pulled her through the downpour to an overhang. The rain pinged on the metal roof, drowning out any possibility of talking, so she stood by his side, watching the drops pour down around them and feeling her heart pound in her chest.

  * * *

  Tiny streams of water rolled across Amber’s skin, disappearing down the low neckline of her T-shirt. Each curve defined by the damp material was just as Rick remembered. As he traced the outline of her breasts with his gaze, his palms burned with the need to touch her warm skin. Her nipples would pucker. Soon he’d have her begging, then moaning.

  Right, he mocked himself, like she’ll be moaning for her new husband.

  He let go of her hand, jerked his gaze away from the tantalizing sight below him. All those months ago when she’d left him, he’d known he couldn’t have her, but to hear her say that she’d soon belong to another hurt more than he could’ve thought possible. He wiped the sweet taste of her off his lips. He shouldn’t have kissed her that second time but after the first one he’d had to be sure. Even though she’d given herself to another man she still wanted him. She did then, did now and always would.

  At least he had that.

  The rain let up as quickly as it had started. The first rays of sun slashed through the edges of the cloud, shinning on the fresh puddles. Steam drifted up the ground, evaporating into the thick, damp air.

  All signs of the kiss were gone from her face. He could bring the fiery flush back if he wanted to. He touched her rounded chin, but as much as he wanted to, he didn’t take her mouth.

  “I remember the summer storms,” she said softly, still turned out at the wet yard.

  He pulled her face to his. “You remember a lot more than that.”

  Her green eyes widened before she looked away, lifting her chin to escape his grip, back to the water drizzling around them. “That’s not why I came.”

  “Yeah, right, you came to tell me you’re getting married.” He dropped his hand. “Why did you think I’d care?”

  She turned away, said over her shoulder, “I don’t know.”

  Unable to keep his hands off her, he grabbed her waist, yanked her to him. How the combination of her hard, narrow hipbones and the soft swell of her bottom wreaked havoc on his hardening cock. Despite sudden flow of blood, he didn’t let go. Instead he pushed harder. To let her feel the effect she had on him. To let her remember, as he did, the way things had been between them and could be now.

  She squirmed against him. “Rick, don’t... please.”

  “I know you like it.” He kissed her soft neck.

  With a quick jerk, she pulled away to face him. “That’s all it ever was with you. Sex. It may surprise you to know, some men care about more than that. Some men offer commitment and want to have families.”

  Rick’s guts twisted. Her new man had happily-ever-after to offer. What did he have? What would he ever have to offer a good woman like Amber Hill?

  Nothing.

  That didn’t stop him from wanting. The demons that tormented him in his darkest hours knew he wanted.

  Careful to keep his expression unreadable, he stepped back and leaned on one of the posts. Out in the yard, puddles that would soon disappear glimmered faintly in the streaks of sunshine. She had a reason for coming to him, and he intended to know what it was. “Answer my question. Why did you bother to come all the way down here?”

  She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her cut-off shorts, stared at her sandals.

  “Tell me, Amber. I’ll get the truth out of you one way or another.”

  That made her look up, her gaze fixed on him, and he knew he was right. She had an agenda.

  He’d never seen this side of her. Last year she’d been wanton and free, sexual and hot. Now she looked determined. Strong. He liked the change but knew the other woman simmered beneath the surface.

  Much to his disappointment, some of the spark went out of her eyes. “I guess I was wrong to think you’d care.”

  “Oh, I care all right.”

  “Only because...” Her words trailed off as her gaze skimmed over him.

  He reached up, bracing his palms on the low beam supporting the roof, and rocked toward her. The muscles across his shoulders stretched, relieving some of the pain his work caused. A flash of satisfaction shifted through him when he noticed her looking at his rain-dampened shirt. He arched his back, leaned closer, let himself feel all the lust flowing through him.

  Rick was mocking her for wanting him. The smooth underside of his biceps glistened with moisture. The damp cotton of his T-shirt clung to the curves of his muscular abdomen; the fine trail of hair visible above his beltline. Her heart, still thumping, her nerve endings still sizzling. There was no point in hiding her response, her desire, so she looked her fill until finally pulling her gaze away. If only she’d used that messenger service instead of coming down in person. If only she didn’t long for him in a way that tore her heart to shreds.

  If only.

  Her future depended on her breaking all ties with him. She backed away to walk between the hatchling pens. The little gators lay still, looking like plastic toys, but soon they’d grow to full size. The deceptive calm, so much like their keeper. Rick was perfectly suited to raising alligators. He thrived on the physical work and solitude. He could handle anything the wild beasts dished out.

  Rick dropped his arms. “Come up to the house.”

  Again, he took her hand without waiting for an answer, his big hand wrapped gently around hers, pulled her along. His heat spread up her arm, through her, but she had to resist the desire to cling tighter to his strong fingers. He led her between the pens, past the large storage shed and toward the cottage where he lived.

  When they reached the steps, he let go, went inside. The battered screen door smacked behind him. It wasn’t as though he had her captive. She didn’t have to put up with his rude treatment, but she had a reason for coming, one she was going to take care of. There was too much at stake to weaken now and so she stood, waiting.

  She turned at the squeak of the hinges, and Rick offered her one of the longneck beers in his hands. She shook her head. “I have to drive.”

  He took a long drink and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “No, you don’t.”

  She sighed. “It’s a little early, isn’t it?”

  He stepped closer and wrapped her fingers around the cold bottle, squeezed gently. “Have some, honey. I have something to tell you.”

  A trickle of apprehension crawled across her shoulders. She licked her lips, lifted the bottle to drink. He waited, watching, his gaze not missing even the tiniest movement.

  After she lowered the beer, he reached for her, shoving his warm fingers under her shirt and holding onto her waist. The possessive movement had Amber’s insides quivering again.

  “I know you have another reason for coming here. If you wanted me to know you were married, you could’ve sent me a postcard from your honeymoon.”

  To avoid his gaze, Amber looked at the bottle in her hand, refusing to speak, until she had the nerve to ask him to sign the research agreement.

  “I know what it is.” Smoothly, he nudged her cheek with his nose, ran his lips down her neck. Waves of lust stirred between her legs. “One last tumble with the bad boy you left behind. A fantasy to keep you company while your new man sleeps bes
ide you.”

  No, that wasn’t what she wanted. She needed the memories to go away, to stop haunting her, keeping her awake and restless. “You’re wrong.”

  “Then what is it, Amber?” He took another long drink from the bottle in his hands. “Why are you here?”

  Eight months without him and now there he was. She saw no point in denying the way her body reacted to him. “I want to stop thinking about you. I want to forget what we had.”

  He lifted one eyebrow and kept his unwavering gaze focused on her. “Why?”

  Again, only the truth would do. “So I can be happy.”

  “You were happy with me.”

  “I need more than what we had. I need everything. I need a man who’s going to love me, take care of me. Let me take care of him.” She winced at the desperation in her voice. Was she trying to convince him? Or herself?

  “But you want me,” he said, then took another drink of the beer.

  “It’s just sex, Rick. That’s all it ever was and it’s not enough.”

  He let her go, crossed to the corner of the porch. Even though it was true Amber regretted the words. Spoken out loud they made her feel cheap and used. But she had to stop fooling herself, had to stop letting him make a fool of her. At the end of last summer, he’d made it clear he didn’t want anything more than a physical relationship. After all, he’d let her walk away. Made no effort to ever talk to her again.

  She turned, took a sip of the beer. “What do you have to tell me?” she asked over her shoulder.

  Silence.

  Amber didn’t turn around. Looking at him more than she had to would be a mistake. She had to keep her mind focused on her future.

  Rick had never promised her anything, certainly not a future, not forever.

  The floorboards squeaked. When he stopped right behind her, she heard him swallow before he spoke.

  “I already told you. I know why you came.”

  That had been a bluff. He’d been ready to tell her something else. “Go ahead, Rick, tell me.” She watched a tiny green lizard scurry across the railing and then added softly, “Or are you afraid?”

  Chapter Two

  What was the point in telling her? But of course, Rick knew. It would hurt her, maybe even make her despise him. She’d look at him with hate in her eyes instead of the longing he recognized. She needed to forget him so she could get married, be happy. He’d never be able to chase her from his memories, but he could give her what she wanted—a good life in the Midwest with a real man who’d care for her in a way he never could.

  He leaned down and whispered, “I’m rich.”

  That got her attention. She spun around so they stood toe to toe. He took a long swig of beer, sneered down at her, ready to do battle. Ready to let her get her fill of the liar that he was.

  “Got it?” Contemptuously he looked down her shirt then back to her face. “I’m loaded.”

  She smiled and laughed lightly as she nodded toward the weather-beaten cottage. “No, you’re not.”

  He fought against the wild sensation her laughter caused. “I lied to you.”

  “Sure you did,” she shrugged, took another drink of beer. One, he noticed, that was closer to a swallow than a sip. She turned her challenging gaze to him and shrugged. “I bet you lied about a lot of things.”

  A droplet clung to her lower lip. Unable to resist, Rick braced his hands on the railing, leaned into her and gently licked it off. She shivered.

  If the truth wasn’t going to send her off, he’d try another approach. He pressed his mouth to hers. He didn’t deepen the kiss, instead pressed his lips first to one corner, then the other.

  When she shivered again, he stepped closer. Her fingers tentatively brushed his ribs then settled on his waist. Did she mean to pull him closer or push him away? Before she could reject him, he lifted his head.

  “This little kissing game isn’t getting us anywhere, Amber.”

  She downed the last of her beer, wiped her lips with her fingertips. Setting the bottle down, she still didn’t look at him. Instead, she twisted, turning her back on him, shoved her hands into her back pockets. She stood there, gazing over the gator pens and outbuildings. He took his time staring at the curves of her hips and the sexy long legs, which he remembered so well. When his blood pressure began to build again, he turned away.

  Maybe she had come back to throw her news in his face. Maybe she didn’t even care if he’d lied about his money. He took his confession a step further. “I lied to you about my whole family being dead and me being broke.”

  She didn’t even turn around. “I don’t care about money, Rick.”

  Of course not. Money wasn’t what she needed. Love and children, a home, that’s what a girl like Amber wanted from a man. What she deserved. He snorted, disgusted with himself. Even with all his money, he’d still never be good enough for her. He could never offer her what she needed.

  Maybe, if she could see his pathetic family, she’d turn from him in disgust or pity. She’d leave him behind without a second thought. Then he could get back to life without her. He dropped his bottle onto the porch, and it rattled across the wood slats. “Let’s go for a ride,” he said, leaping from the top porch step.

  * * *

  As Rick crossed to his truck, his gait was quick even though the rain had stopped. He gunned the engine and sat waiting, assuming she’d follow. Leave it to him to force the issue. If she went, she’d be giving in, if she stayed put, she’d look like she was afraid. She needed him to cooperate with her request. On her terms. She pushed herself away from the railing and planted herself outside of the driver’s side window.

  “Where’re we going?” she asked.

  Rick’s fingers flexed against the steering wheel. “Get in the truck, Amber.”

  The frustration of the past months swelled inside her, tearing at her heart. “I don’t have to go anywhere with you. Get out and talk to me.”

  He stretched toward her. Like the Florida sky turning dark seconds before a storm burst, his blue eyes clouded. “If I get out of this truck, right now, you aren’t going to like what happens.”

  Refusing to let him break down her resolve, she backed up, crossed her arms, settled her feet. “Try me.”

  The door swung open, and he reached her in one step. When his arms circled her waist, she twisted, struggling to get free.

  “Settle down,” he growled as he swung her over his shoulder. Briefly, she managed to throw him off balance with her kicking, but he quickly recovered, heading toward the truck. With a single swing, he set her onto the bench and then slid her toward the passenger window.

  “We’re doing this my way.” Softly, he added, “You’ll be glad later.”

  Before she’d strapped on her seat belt, he hit the accelerator, heading down the long driveway she’d driven her rental car up earlier. As she righted herself and smoothed out her twisted clothing, Amber glanced in the side mirror.

  The ramshackle place was weather beaten, falling apart, but for three months it had been paradise. They’d lived for the moment, never talking about the past or the future. When the end came and it was time to go back home to finish graduate school, she shouldn’t have expected him to say anything other than what he did. “It’s been great. Bye.” How, after all this time, could the pain still be as fresh and unbearable as it had been that day?

  The tiny building grew smaller until it disappeared in a blur of mangroves. If only she could get him out of her heart and mind so easily. Beside her, Rick flipped on the radio, scanned the stations until stopping on an old rock song. He turned it up, cutting off the possibility of conversation, taking a right onto a small highway. Hot air rushed in, whipping her hair into her face, the truck rumbled past the roadside pines and palmettos.

  About five minutes later, he turned the pick-up onto a narrow two-track road, crowded with sea-grape trees and a tumble of other plants. Amber glanced at Rick for some indication about what might await her, but he sat with both ha
nds gripped tightly on the wheel, his gaze focused straight ahead. When she looked forward again, her breath caught in her throat.

  Never would she have guessed a picture-perfect mansion was right around the corner from his beaten-down cottage. The beautiful white house was a typical old Southern style, with pillars, porches and shuttered windows. Unlike the hedges leading up to the estate, the trees and shrubs surrounding the house were neatly trimmed. Amber braced herself against the dash when Rick braked hard in the middle of the front yard. Anxious to put some space between them, she climbed out and moved away from the truck.

  He got out and cut in front of her, blocking her view of the white mansion. “My dad’s parents built it around the time he was born. They inherited the land from my dad’s grandfather, build it with the money that came with the land, and then started growing sugar cane.” He turned away, speaking softly as he stared at the home. “The early 60s was the beginning of that, I guess. Growing cane, that is. Made a lot of money.” He nodded, adding, “A lot.”

  He had lied about being poor. But that made no difference now. Amber shrugged.

  He looked down at the sandy soil then back to her. “I haven’t been here in three years, but this is where I grew up. It’s where my dad grew up too.”

  His challenging stare was unwavering, but his eyes held something she’d rarely seen there—vulnerability. Her stomach tightened, yet she kept her expression plain. “Okay. Everyone has to grow up somewhere.”

  Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned back. With his long hair blowing in the breeze and his hard expression, to someone who didn’t know him well, he might look intimidating. It was obvious that he was trying to stun her again, but the initial shock of seeing him again had worn off. Now she saw the man beneath the bravado. A pang of sympathy pierced her heart. Deep emotional pain churned inside him, pain he was trying to use against her.

  Why?

  “Richard...” A tiny, dark-haired woman, obviously unaware of the tension radiating from Rick, burst out of the house. “It is... it’s really you.” A huge smile spread across her face and lit her brown eyes.