First Impressions

his mind, leaving only Shane in the light.
    He could take her now, on the bank of the creek, in the dim daylight on the rain-damp grass. As her mouth moved, moist and warm under his, Vance could imagine how it would be to take full possession of her body. Her energy and hunger would match his own. There would be no false, foolish pretense of seduction, but an honest meeting of desires.
    Her small round breasts pressed into his naked chest. Vance thought he could feel the aching need in them—or was it his own need? It raged in him, drove at him, until she was all he craved. Her mouth was small too, but avid, never retreating from the savageness of his. Instead, she matched it, propelling him further and further, pulling him closer and closer. All women or one woman, he was no longer certain, but she was overpowering him.
    Somehow he knew that if he took her, he would never walk away easily. The reasons might not be fully clear yet, but she wasn’t like the other women he had known and bedded. He was afraid her eager hands and mouth could hold him—and he wasn’t yet ready to chance it.
    Vance drew her away, but Shane dropped her head on his chest. There was something vulnerable in the gesture though the arms around his waist were strong. The contrast aroused him, as did the lightning fast beat of her heart. For a moment, he stood holding her while the water ran cold and fast around their legs and hazy sunlight drifted through the trees.
    She’d once told him that a snowfall had made her feel complete isolation. Vance felt it now. There might have been nothing, no one beyond the rushing creek and fringe of trees. And to his own confusion, he felt a need for none. He wanted only her. Perhaps they were alone . . . The thought both excited and disturbed him. Perhaps there was nothing beyond that forgotten little spot, and no reason not to take what he wanted.
    Shane shivered, making him realize she must be chilled to the bone. It brought him back to reality in a rush. His arms dropped away from her.
    “Come on,” he muttered. “You should get inside.” Vance pulled her up the slippery bank.
    Shane bent over to pick up her boots. When she was certain she could do so calmly, she met his eyes. “You’re not coming in.” It wasn’t a question. She had sensed all too well his change of attitude.
    “No.” His tone was cool again though his blood still throbbed for her. “I’ll go change, then come back and get started on the porch.”
    Shane had known he would bring her pain, but she hadn’t thought it would be so soon. The old wounds of rejection opened again. “All right. If I’m not here, just do whatever you have to do.”
    Vance could feel the hurt, yet she met his eyes and her voice was steady. Recriminations he could have dealt with easily. Anger he would have welcomed. For the first time in years, he was completely baffled by a woman.
    “You know what would happen if I came in now.” The words were rough with impatience. Vance found himself wanting to shake her.
    “Yes.”
    “Is that what you want?”
    Shane said nothing for a moment. When she smiled, the light didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s not what you want,” she said quietly. Turning, she started back to the house, but Vance caught her arm, spinning her around. He was furious now, all the more furious when he saw the effort her composure was costing her.
    “Damn it, Shane, you’re a fool if you think I don’t want you.”
    “You don’t want to want me,” she returned evenly. “That’s more important to me.”
    “What difference does it make?” he ground out impatiently. Frustrated by the calmness of her answer, he did shake her. How could she look at him with those big quiet eyes when she’d driven him to the wall only moments before? “You know how close I came to taking you right here on the ground. Isn’t it enough to know you can push me to that? What more do you want?”
    She gave him a long searching look. “Push you to it,” she repeated quietly. “Is that really how you see it?”
    The conflict raged in him. He wanted badly to get away from her. “Yes,” he said bitterly. “How else?”
    “How else,” she agreed with a shaky laugh that started a new ache moving in him. “I suppose for some that might be a compliment of sorts.”
    “If you like,” he said curtly as he picked up his shirt.
    “I don’t,” she murmured. “But then, you said I was odd.” With a sigh, she stared into his eyes.