Christmas Present Part 8

"You did, but that wasn't what I was referring to." "I know, and so far I'd say it's a great morning." He gave her another kiss and set her on her feet. "Ihope you're hungry, because I've made a big breakfast for us."

She glanced around the kitchen with only vague interest. "Where did you get the food? I never keep

anything for breakfast here."

"I didn't even bother looking. I walked down the hall to your parents' apartment. The housekeeper was very helpful."

"But I don't eat breakfast."

"You will this morning." His look dared her.

She burst out laughing. "You know, now that you mention it, I think I am hungry."

"Good. Go sit down and I'll bring it to you."

Several minutes later Bria was happily munching on a piece of toast. There was an intimacy to sharing

breakfast with a man with whom you had just spent a night of unrestrained pa.s.sion, she reflected, an intimacy that was warm and oddly comfortable. And she liked it, liked it very much. "How did you get that?" With her toast she indicated the scar that angled over his left brow.

"I fell out a door."

She smiled. "I've heard of people running into doors, but not falling out of them."

"It was the loft door of the bam. I was trying to toss hay out the door to my grandfather, who was below in a wagon. Even though I was only eight, I had convinced him I could do the job, and I was determined to prove myself. But I found out right away how heavy those bales were and that there was no way I could actually toss one of them down, as I had seen my grandfather do so many times. So I started pushing and dragging the first bale, thinking it wasn't going to be a big deal after all. And I was pretty proud of myself for figuring out a way to do it." He grinned. "About then I overbalanced and went out the door with the hay."

Her eyes widened with alarm. "You fell from a second-story level to the ground?"

"No, I fell into the wagon, but I landed on hay that was already there, so I wasn't hurt."

"But the scar-"

"It happened when I pushed myself up. My face grazed the side of the wagon where there was a nail sticking out."

She grimaced "Ouch. You poor kid."

"Yeah. The st.i.tches weren't fun. But the next week I was up in the loft trying the same thing all over again. I succeeded, and I never fell out again." She chopped her toast back to the plate and lifted her coffee for a sip. "Sounds as if you were one tough little boy."

"I had to be."

She eyed him thoughtfully. "Any reason in particular?"

He gave a noncommittal shrug.

"Did you enjoy glowing up on a ranch?"

"Sure. What boy wouldn't? All that s.p.a.ce. My own horse. A swimming hole that I sometimes shared with the cows. But I shouldn't have to tell you. You grew up on a ranch yourself."

"I know, it's just that I was wondering why you left The Star."

"It's simple. I didn't want to be a rancher, so I hired someone to run it who did want to be."

"And went to Australia." He nodded. "Yes."

She leaned forward, placing her forearms on the table. "Why? I mean, why did you feel the need to leave the country in which you were born to go live in another? You could do what you're doing in Australia right here in America. For that matter, in the Southwest."

"I could do it anywhere. But Australia appealed to me for a lot of reasons. Australia has only a fraction of the population of the United States, yet the size is comparable. There's room for people to spread out, and a great part of Australia remains untouched."

"Brisbane is very touched," she said with sweet sarcasm. "I've been there."

His laugh held an edge. "Okay, you got me. Besides the reasons I listed, I simply felt the need to make a completely fresh start."

"Why?"

He tilted his head and viewed her through a thicket of dark lashes. "You're not eating. Are you using these questions as a smoke screen to get out of eating breakfast?"

"No. Did you just use that question as a smoke screen to hide the fact you don't want to answer me?"

He exhaled. "I didn't know your questions were anything more than idle conversation. What is it exactly that you want to know, Bria?"

Instinct told her she was treading into a sensitive area, but that same instinct also made her persevere. "What was it here that you wanted so badly to leave behind?"

He made a sound of exasperation. "Memories. Okay? Memories. But in the end, my plan didn't work." She opened her mouth to speak again, but he held up his hand. "Eat, Bria. You're going to need your strength."

If he had wanted to divert her, he had succeeded. Besides, she knew she would have another opportunity to try to get him to talk about the memories that had driven him from the place where he had been raised. "Why am I going to need my strength?"

"You're going to need your strength for shopping. What else did you think I meant?"

"I-" His eyes were alight with mischievous sparks of humor, something she had never seen in them before. She was captivated. "Shopping. Of course. The reason we both came here." She hesitated, her eyes twinkling. "Would you like me to go with you and help you?"

He relaxed back in his chair and folded his hands across his lean waist. "If you'll remember, I asked you to last night. I haven't changed my mind. Have you?"

She smiled. "Yes."

His answering smile was slow and held more than humor. "I'm glad. Now, are you going to eat or am I going to have to come over there and help you?"

"I think I need some help."

Bria held up an elaborate turquoise and silver necklace for Kells's consideration. "What do you think?

Would your secretary like this?"

He looked doubtful. "I'm not sure. She seems to favor pearls."

Bria reconsidered her suggestion, and as she did, the memory of how the two of them had looked last night in the mirror as his mouth had kissed her neck momentarily paralyzed her. Then she saw the twinkle in his eye and knew he was remembering the same thing. She gave him a stem look that failed miserably. "The thing is, Kells, if she loves jewelry-and what woman doesn't?-she'll love this necklace. It's not only beautiful, it's unusual, and most definitely Southwest."

"Then it's settled. Let's get it."

She handed the necklace along with a pair of matching earrings to the clerk, then turned to a magnificent sculpture of a coyote. But the sculpture failed to hold her attention. Instead, her mind detoured back to that morning and how it had been several hours before she and Kells were ready to leave the apartment. And she had never gotten much of a breakfast. The memory drew a smile from her.

"Do you really like the coyote that much?" Kells asked, obviously having observed her expression.

She jerked back to the present. "No, I don't."

"Then why were you smiling?"

"I was just thinking how hungry I am."

His expression changed, tightened, and his voice chopped to a husky rasp. "Let's go back to the apartment and I'll feed you."

Her eyes wide, she slowly shook her head. "I can't be that easy to read."

"You're right. You're not. Except for when your mind is on certain subjects." He brushed the back of his knuckles down the tender curve of her cheek. "By the way, you blush beautifully."

"That's impossible," she said firmly, "because I never, under any circ.u.mstances, blush."

The sensuality of his lips held a tinge of amus.e.m.e.nt. "If you say so."

"I do. Now, who's left on your list? As soon as we're through here, we'll go eat at a great restaurant I know."

"Restaurant? Why not at your apartment? I like the menu there much better."

His voice was full of meaning that had her blood heating. If she wasn't careful, she reflected, she was going to throw herself into his arms. Desperate to maintain at least a semblance of decorum, she repeated her question. "Who's left?"

"Two couples, and we can get them the same thing, because one lives in Alice Springs and the other in Melbourne."

She glanced almost blindly around the shop. "How about an Indian blanket for each of them?"

"Perfect. Now, about that hunger of yours..."

She sighed, defeated. "You're a dangerous man, Kells Braxton. I knew it the minute I saw you."

"Why? All I was doing was sipping scotch."

"No, you were-" She stopped, realizing she had never told him about the mirror, and now certainly wasn't the time. "You were also looking at our Christmas tree as if it might bite you." .*"

He grinned. "Not at all. I was merely in awe of all the Delaney tradition."

She laughed huskily. "I've known you only a short time, but I think I can safely say there's not much that awes you. In fact, I'd be interested to know if there's anything that awes you."

"Oh, yes," he said, his eyes darkening. "You. I'm in absolute awe of you and how you make me feel."

He bent his head and kissed her, pressing his mouth hard against hers and plunging his tongue deeply into her warmth. And regardless of the fact that they were standing in the middle of one of Tucson's most exclusive shops, he didn't end the kiss until he was good and ready, which was many long, pa.s.sionate seconds later.

Bria lay in the crook of Kells's shoulder and lightly traced a nail around his nipple. He clamped a hand over hers, stopping her. "I can't concentrate when you do that."

"What is it you're trying to concentrate on?" she asked, mildly curious how he could concentrate on anything when they had just made love to each other with an intensity that had her totally spent. The afternoon shadows were deepening. She still hadn't eaten anything, but food was the last thing on her mind. Kells had a way of filling up all her senses, satiating her until there was nothing else she wanted, nothing else she could think of.

"I'm trying to concentrate on anything but you and the way your naked body feels pressed against me."

"Why?"

Lightly he stroked the tips of his fingers up and down her arm. "It seems a sensible thing to do." His lips curved upward in pleasure at the silky smooth feel of her skin. "It's even sort of an experiment."

"An experiment?"

"To see if I can get through an hour without wanting you." His voice roughened. "I still don't know how we ever managed to pick out those Indian blankets and pay for everything without my taking you right there on the shop floor. I came so close..."

She laughed softly, thrilled and comforted that she wasn't caught up in this sensual storm alone. "We would have shocked several very nice clerks if we had."

"Maybe, but after the money I spent in there, they wouldn't have said much. And knowing that made it twice as hard for me." He angled his head so that he could look down at her. "Would you have objected if right there and then I had taken you down to that pile of Indian blankets and made love to you?"

She hoped, she prayed, she would have objected, but she couldn't say with any degree of certainty that she would have. The responses he could draw from her constantly amazed and surprised her. "Of course I would have. For one thing, it wouldn't have been polite."

"And for another?" "It would have been... uncivilized." She heard laughter nimble in his chest. "Bria, you don't give a d.a.m.n about being civilized." "Maybe not, but I try to care about being considerate of others." "In this case, I think try is the operative word." He shifted over her and gazed deeply into her eyes. "You would have let me, wouldn't you?" There was a possessiveness in his voice and expression that stole her breath away. "The truth is, I don't know. I'm positive I wanted you as much as you wanted me. But I'm glad we waited until we got back here. It not only made the antic.i.p.ation greater, it saved those poor clerks a great deal of embarra.s.sment." He was still for a moment, then he bent his head and pressed a kiss to her lips. "You are truly a wonder, Bria Delaney. Since I've met you, I don't know which way is up and which way is down."

She listened carefully for some clue as to whether he considered the way he felt to be good or bad. But all she could hear was amazement. "How do you think your friends will like their gifts?" He lay back down. "They'll be crazy about them. Thank you for helping me." What were they like, she wondered, those friends of his? It was both depressing and somewhat astounding for her to remember that he had a whole other life that didn't include her. Astounding because another life for either of them didn't seem possible. The powerful ecstasy they shared tended to black out everything but each other. How could either of them exist outside this magical, exciting world they had created together?

But the reality was that on Christmas Day he would be back in Australia with his friends, and she would be in Arizona, not alone by any means, but definitely without him. "Tell me about your home," she said on impulse. "What's it like? What do you see when you look out its windows?"

"My home sits on a hill, and when I gaze out my front windows or sit out on the veranda, I can look down on the Brisbane River." "It sounds wonderful." "I like it."

"Tell me more." "Okay, well... from every window I can see palm trees, bougainvillea, and frangipani. Exotic birds are everywhere. I have a sailboat, and some days I get into it and sail down the river to the sea. Other days I get in my car and chive to the coast and surf."

"You know how to surf?"

He chuckled at her amazement. "I learned when I moved there."

"It sounds as if you couldn't have chosen a place any more different from New Mexico," she said somewhat wistfully. His life there seemed full and complete.

"You're right about that."

"Do you ever think of moving back here?"

"Here?"

"The Southwest."

Strange, he thought. He had always viewed the Southwest as Delaney country. And he had left. Then the Delaneys had come to Australia to him. "Not really. But I do love it here, and actually I visit The Star quite often. I go back to The Star to be recharged."