She'd found something else. The thrill of streaking over the hills, of racing through low-lying fog that hugged the ground like a river. Of hearing the thunder of hooves and feeling the strong, sleek mount beneath her gather itself to jump.
She sailed over a fallen log and burst into a clearing where the sun flashed white.
"Oh, God, it's wonderful!" After reining in, she leaned low over the horse's neck. "I'll never be able to do without this again. You're a clever man, Michael Fury." She straightened and turned to study him as he sat easily on Max. "How could I buy a horse for myself and not buy that mare for Ali?"
"I'll give you a hell of a deal on three. The little bay gelding fits Kayla like a glove. You ride like a demon, Laura." He reached down to pat the neck of the mare Laura rode. "And Fancy here suits you. I figured she would."
"Apparently you know your horses, and your women."
His eyes flicked up to hers. His woman. For the moment. "Apparently. You look…" Stunning, vital. "Rested."
"I slept like the dead last night. Nearly ten hours." Trying her hand at flirting, she sent him a sidelong look under her lashes. "Did you miss me?"
He'd reached for her half a dozen times during the night.
"Nah." When her face fell, he laughed. Grabbing her by the shirt, he tugged her sideways just enough to meet her lips. "What do you think?" He dismounted, "Let's give them a rest. We've been riding them hard."
He tossed the reins over a branch as she slid agilely to the ground. "Did you find any more coins yesterday?"
"Nothing. Not even a bottle cap. I can't—Oh, I didn't tell you, did I? The other night—"
"I heard." For reasons he couldn't pin down, it had annoyed him that she hadn't come running to him with her coin. "Good for you."
"It was the oddest thing." She stretched muscles unused to riding. "I put my hand right on it. Just the way you would if you'd dropped a quarter and reached down to…"
She blinked, lost her train of thought. He was standing there, just standing there with the sun at his back and his eyes focused on her face. "What is it?"
"You said you'd dreamed of me. Now, and years ago. On the cliffs, in your room, in the forest. You'd turn and I'd be there."
"Yes." Wasn't it foolish to have her heart lodged in her throat? To feel both fear and anticipation prickle hot on her skin. "Michael."
"And I'd touch you." He floated a palm over the curve of her breast, felt the quiver. There were parts of her life that were barred to him, parts of his that he would keep barred from her. But here… here was equal ground. "And taste you." Laid his mouth over hers, felt the heat. "And take you." Swept her into his arms, felt the ache. "And I will."
She lay beside him, naked in the sunlight, with birds singing in the trees. He hadn't torn her clothes. It amazed her that she wouldn't have stopped him from doing so even if she'd had to ride back to Templeton House bare as Lady Godiva.
Instead, he had been so gentle, so tender that even now she could have wept.
"I've never made love outside," she murmured. "I didn't know it could be so lovely." She sat up, stretched. "So many firsts. I don't suppose there are many firsts I can give you." She smiled down at him. "Bad Michael Fury's already done them all."
"And then some," he said with his eyes closed.
"There's so much you don't talk about." Knowing it was all too typical to pry into a man's past when you were in love didn't stop her. She traced a finger down his chest. "So many secrets inside."
"You told me a couple of yours last night. Quid pro quo?''
"No, of course not."
He opened his eyes. "You want to know something about me, ask."
She shook her head and started to shift, but he reached up and held her still. "Afraid of the answer?"
"No," she said steadily, "I'm not. And I'm surprised you'd think I would be."
"Fine. Ask."
"I—" she hesitated still, then gave in. "All right. You said you were married before, but you never mentioned her or what happened."
"Her name was Yvonne. We got divorced."