My Special Angel Page 6

Nadia swallowed and ran the tip of her tongue over her suddenly dry lips. Maybe he was right. She stared at the sensual fullness of Owen’s lower lip and wondered if it indeed tasted as intoxicating as she remembered. She softly parted her mouth and breathed. “Maybe.”

  Owen took her breathless word as permission and lowered his head. He didn’t tighten his embrace as he softly slanted his mouth over hers. The kiss was as light and sweet as a summer’s breeze, and just as fleeting. He raised his head and asked, “Hear anything yet?”

  Nadia circled her arms around his neck and raised her mouth to his. “That wasn’t how you kissed me the other night.” She tugged his head lower until she could reach his lips. “Try it again.”

  Owen didn’t need to be asked twice. His mouth slanted down on hers with all the pent-up hunger and frustration of the past days. His arms tightened like steel bans, crushing her to his chest. Need, like nothing he had ever experienced before, exploded low and hot within his body. He leaned farther back against the desk and spread his legs slightly so that she fitted snugly into the juncture of his thighs, where his desire was in full evidence.

  His tongue slowly traced the voluptuous fullness of her lower lip, silently begging for entrance. When she softly sighed and parted her lips, he groaned deeply and thrust his tongue into her sweetness. The enticing riposte of her tongue charged the kiss with new life. This was not just his kiss. This was their kiss. Each was feeding off the other’s hunger and desires.

  He felt the gentle trembling of her fingers as she stroked his jaw and pressed herself closer. He was drowning in desire and the heavenly scent of Nadia. She smelled of fresh mountain air, sunshine, and a myriad of different wildflowers. The fingers of one hand twisted their way through curls of near-black silk, while his other hand cupped her hip and pressed her against the rigid bulge behind his jeans. He thought he would die when her hand traveled from his jaw to his knee and slowly climbed up to the top of his thigh.

  He broke the kiss, tucked her head beneath his chin, and gasped for air. “If you want to keep this to just a kiss, don’t move that hand another inch.” He squinted up at the ceiling and prayed for strength. He could detect a slight trembling in her fingers, but they didn’t climb higher.

  He loosened his embrace and consoled himself that Nadia had responded to his kiss like gasoline to fire. He glanced down at the top of her head and softly asked, “Do you hear anything now?” He himself had heard fireworks, volcanoes exploding, comets whirling by, and a shifting of the earth’s plates. She should be hearing the Mormon Tabernacle Choir by now.

  Nadia slowly removed her hand and backed away from Owen. Her gaze never left his chest. She could still hear the pounding of his heart, the distant song of a bird somewhere outside, and the rushing surge of her blood crashing through her head with each beat of her heart. But no music. The kiss hadn’t worked. She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Nothing.”

  Owen’s heart lurched in his chest. He reached out and pulled her back into his arms. He held her close and whispered, “I’m willing to try again.” He smiled when he felt her shoulders shake with silent laughter, and he knew that somehow they would get through this. “Hell, I’m willing to try all night if need be.”

  He was rewarded for his great sacrifice with an elbow in his gut and Nadia’s sweet laughter. “You’re rotten.” She pushed a wayward curl out of her eye and chuckled. “And here I thought you were a gentleman.”

  He raised both hands in surrender. “I am a gentleman. If you don’t believe me, just ask my aunt. She’ll tell you.”

  Nadia busied herself with tucking in her red-and-white-striped top that had somehow managed to escape the waistband of her shorts. How had she allowed things to get so far out of hand? It was only supposed to be a kiss. “Your aunt is probably prejudiced.” She smoothed out a wrinkle from her shorts. “Blood and water, and all that stuff.”

  Owen chuckled. “The saying is ‘Blood is thicker than water.’” He raised one eyebrow and winked. “But I was brought up to be a proper gentleman, and you would be amazed to what lengths I would go for a woman in distress.”

  Nadia’s gaze shot to the front of his straining jeans. She could see the length he was willing to go to on her account. A very impressive-looking length.

  Heat flared into her cheeks as she heard Owen suck in his breath. Her gaze shot up, and she flushed redder when she encountered the obvious hunger burning in his gaze. She quickly glanced away. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

  Owen slowly shook his head. “It was an excellent idea.” He pushed himself away and moved to stand behind the desk. “I think we may be onto something here.”

  She cocked an eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips. “And I think all the blood has drained from your brain.”

  His rich laughter filled the room. “I don’t think so, Nadia.” He glanced down to the front of his jeans and grinned rakishly. “I know so.”

  “I thought you said you were a gentleman?”

  “I wasn’t the one to bring it up.”

  Nadia flushed with guilt and looked away. “I’m sorry about that.” She pushed the toe of the sneaker against the thick beige carpet and watched as the texture changed. “I didn’t mean for things to get so out of control.”

  Owen bit his lip to keep from laughing again. “I was referring to bringing it up in the conversation, Nadia.” He sat down and tried to look relaxed. “What I meant was, since I was there when the music stopped, wouldn’t it seem logical that I would have to be there when the music starts back up?”

  “Nothing about this is logical, Owen.” She stepped back over to the doors and frowned at the perfectly green manicured lawn. “How many women in your life ever accused you of kissing the music straight out of their heads?”

  “I have to admit, Nadia, you’re the first.” He leaned back into the chair and folded his arms behind his head.

  “How many musicians have you kissed?” Maybe it was some type of electrical impulse or something.

  “I think you’re the first.” He squinted up at the ceiling. “No, wait. I kissed Susie Reynolds in the seventh grade, and she used to play the piano.”

  “Could she still play after you kissed her?”

  “Afraid so.” He propped his feet up on the edge of the desk, gazing at Nadia being drenched by sunlight pouring in through the doors. “When exactly did you notice the music was gone?”

  “When I went inside the house and closed the door.”

  “When did you last hear the music?”

  “While standing on the porch.” She remembered the turbulent cadenza raging through her head when she’d told Owen she couldn’t see him again. Her emotions and her common sense had been competing to see which could screech the loudest.

  “That just proves my point.”

  “What point?” She turned back toward Owen.

  “I’m the missing factor.” He lowered his feet and stood up. “Somehow I’m involved in your music vanishing.”

  “But the kiss didn’t work.”

  “Maybe we didn’t do it right.” He chuckled at the look of astonishment clouding her face. “What I mean is, maybe we have to kiss on the porch again. Or maybe it has to be at the same time, or maybe it has to be on a full stomach.”

  “Or maybe it wasn’t the kiss at all,” said Nadia softly. She turned away before he could notice the tears filling up her eyes again. Coming here had been a mistake.

  Owen came up behind her and gently touched her arm. “You may be right. Maybe it wasn’t the kiss, Nadia, but there has to be a reason somewhere.” His fingers caressed the smooth skin from her wrist to her elbow. “I’m willing to help you find it.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know how. That’s something we are going to have to work on together.” He tenderly stroked the dark circles under her eyes. “The first thing you have to do is rest more. This obviously has you very upset, and I can sympathize with you on that, but you need your sleep.”

  “
I need my music more.” She didn’t need to be told she looked like hell. She had a mirror at home. She knew exactly what she looked like.

  “No, you need to relax. Maybe the music is trying to come back and you’re too wound up to notice.” His hands gently brushed her hair aside and massaged the tense muscles in her neck. “Have you ever been to Hidden Valley?”

  She tilted her head forward and sighed as Owen’s warm fingers worked their magic, easing the pressure from her neck and shoulders. “As in the salad dressing?”

  “No.” Owen chuckled. “Hidden Valley is a secluded valley about ten miles out of town. Not many people know about it, and the ones who do keep it to themselves. It’s a small piece of paradise with gurgling streams, a small waterfall, and acres of blue skies and green grass.”

  “It sounds lovely.”

  “Great.” He gave a final squeeze to her neck. “I’ll go fix a picnic basket, and we’ll be on our way.”

  “Wait a minute.” Nadia quickly turned around and frowned. “I didn’t say I was going anywhere.” She didn’t like the determined gleam in Owen’s eyes. “I have things to do back at the ranch.”

  “What do you have to do that is more important than getting back your music?”

  Nadia worried her lower lip with her teeth. “If I go with you to this Hidden Valley, who is to say the music will return?”

  “Who’s to say it won’t?”

  She was torn. Was there a possibility that the music would return if she went on a picnic with Owen to this hidden paradise? Could she afford not to go? She had vowed to put a great deal of distance between Owen and herself. He was too tempting, but now, with the disappearance of her music, could she risk not seeing him? What would happen if he was right, and the music would only return with his help? Surely she had enough control to keep her heart safe for one afternoon by keeping their relationship on some level of friendship. “If I go, it would be out of friendship, nothing more.”

  Owen nodded his head and smiled. He got the message. “I only have one question?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Do you prefer fried chicken or bologna sandwiches?”

  * * *

  Nadia glanced at the other two cars parked at the side of the road and took the quilt Owen handed her. “I thought you said only a few people knew about this place.”

  Owen picked up the heavy wicker picnic basket and shut the hood of the trunk. He glanced at the two other cars. “Don’t worry, we probably won’t even run into them. There’s more than a hundred acres of woods and meadows.”

  “I have more than that on the ranch, and every time I turn around, there’s always someone there.”

  He chuckled and led the way to a dirt path hidden between two massive pine trees. “I can imagine.”

  Nadia ducked beneath a low-hanging branch and glanced around for ‘No Trespassing’ signs. There weren’t any. “Who owns all this?”

  “We do.” He held a branch back so that she could pass.

  “We do?”

  “You’re a taxpayer, aren’t you?”

  “At times more than I care to be.” She looked around her with interest. The forest was thick with massive trees and the sweet smell of peat. The path Owen was following was nonexistent, and the air was a good ten degrees cooler and still damp from the previous night’s late thundershower. “The government owns all this?”

  “They bought it back in the seventies and earmarked it for a park.” He held her hand and helped her step over a fallen log. “It’s our good fortune that they haven’t come up with the funds yet to knock down half an acre of trees to blacktop a massive parking lot, asphalt a couple of miles of trails, or throw up dozens of picnic tables.” He grinned, and waved an arm toward a patch of sunlight streaming through the thick trees ahead of them. “In other words it’s still as nature intended it to be—natural.”

  Nadia stepped into the clearing and stared in awe at the beauty surrounding her. The valley was spread out below them, and the mountains were above them. The path Owen had been following had brought them straight into paradise.

  “What do you think? Can you relax here?”

  She had never missed her music as much as at this moment. The melody this valley could inspire would surely rival anything Brahms or Liszt ever wrote. “Beautiful doesn’t begin to do it justice.”

  He reached for her hand and gently squeezed it. “My sentiments exactly.” He started to pull her through some tall grass and toward another clump of trees. “Come on. The best spot for a picnic is on the other side of the valley.”

  * * *

  Nadia rolled onto her back and groaned. “I can’t believe all that food you packed. Who were you expecting, sumo-wrestling park rangers?”

  “I didn’t see you complaining five minutes ago when I pulled out those two thick slices of chocolate cake.” He chuckled as he finished packing away the remaining food and pushed the basket out of the way. Nadia looked so relaxed with her face raised to the sun and her bare toes wiggling in the soft grass at the foot of the quilt. The picnic had been a stroke of brilliance on his part. Not only was he getting to share some time with Nadia, but the shadows that had to be haunting her in his office had disappeared. He wasn’t sure if he wanted the music to return—she might start in again about how they weren’t right for each other.

  He wasn’t claiming that it was Nadia who was to make Aunt Verna ecstatically happy and start pulling out the family Bible to add another name to the frail pages. But he wasn’t going to discount the possibility either. He was thirty-three years old, and he recognized a good thing when he saw it. The physical attraction between Nadia and himself would be downright frightening if it weren’t so exciting. She was intelligent, caring, loving, and unbelievably sexy. He owed it to himself, as well as to her, to push this relationship as far as it could go. As his aunt Verna was so fond of reminding him, he wasn’t getting any younger. If he wanted to have those six kids he always dreamed about, he’d better start thinking marriage.

  He turned his head and glanced over at Nadia. She was turned onto her side with her arm under her head as a pillow. Her eyes, which could dance with laughter or burn with desire, were halfway closed, and a sleepy smile played across her mouth. She was studying him. He reached into his pocket and placed a coin on the blanket between them. “Penny for your thoughts.”

  She smiled at the copper coin. “Is that all they’re worth?”

  “It depends on what they’re about.” He teasingly jingled the coins in his pockets.

  “I was thinking of you.” She placed a hand over her mouth and tried to smother a yawn. The sun was dissolving all the tension in her body with its warmth. She felt as if she were melting into the quilt.

  “Ah.” He placed another coin next to the penny. “Will this cover it, then?”

  She chuckled softly at the shiny dime and pressed her cheek farther into her arm. “That’s about right.” She closed her eyes as contentment settled over her. “I was wondering why some woman hadn’t pinched you up by now.”

  “Pinched me up by now?”

  “You know—brought you to the altar, followed by two-point-three children, a dog, and an orthodontist bill.”

  “The saying is ‘snapped me up,’ not ‘pinched me up.’” He pulled a long blade of grass and idly twirled it around his fingers. “So you think I’ll make a great catch?”

  “Trout make a great catch. You would make a great husband.” She stifled another yawn. “So why aren’t you married?”

  He gazed at her. She looked partially asleep, all soft and cuddly. “The right woman never tried to snap me up.”

  “Hmmm...” She nodded her head somewhat, closed her eyes, and mumbled, “Maybe she should have tried to pinch you instead.”

  Owen frowned. Here they were discussing the main topic of conversation in Crow’s Head, his marital status, and Nadia had fallen asleep! Didn’t she care that he was the most eligible bachelor in the western part of the state? Hell, it could be the entire
state for all he knew, and the one woman he wouldn’t mind answering a few questions for couldn’t even bother to ask them.

  He reached over and tenderly brushed a curl off her face, then tucked it behind her ear. She looked like an angel, all soft and heavenly. Thick, dark lashes were fanned out against her cheeks, and her lips were softly parted. He could detect a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth, and he wondered what she was thinking.

  Stretching out beside her, he watched, entranced, as the sunlight played across her face. He wondered what it would be like to wake up next to this woman night after night, year after year.

  Chapter Five

  Nadia wiggled her nose and brushed her hand across her face. Something was disturbing her sleep, and she wanted it to stop. When the irritating insect tickled her nose again, she stuck out her lower hp and blew. Her eyes flew open as a deep chuckle sounded next to her ear. Rich brown eyes, the color of thick, creamy chocolate stared back at her. Owen’s eyes. She’d know them anywhere.

  She smothered a yawn and glanced around. The sun had moved halfway across the heavens. “Oh, my! Why didn’t you wake me?” She quickly sat up and gazed down at the man still stretched out on the quilt He looked as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “Do you know you talk in your sleep?”

  “I do not!” She ran her fingers through her hair and tugged at her shirt. A frown pulled at the smooth skin of her brow as she studied his relaxed expression. “Do I really?”

  “Uh-hmmm ...” He idly twirled the piece of long grass he had used to tickle her nose between his fingers.

  “What did I say?” He looked as if he knew a secret. Was she reading more into his expression than was there?

  “I couldn’t understand most of it.” His lips twitched with some hidden amusement.

  “I was mumbling?” She tried to remember what she had been dreaming about and came up with a blank. It could have been anything, or everything.

  He frowned at the blade of grass for a moment before looking up at her. “No, you weren’t mumbling.” A devilish grin lit up his face. “You were speaking in some foreign language.”