The Heart of a Stranger by Sheri Whitefeather Page A

and smiled.
    She returned the friendly gesture and headed back to the ranch, her heart pounding with anticipation.
    Parked in front of the bunkhouse, she dug through the bag and removed everything but the condoms. The milk, she realized, was a dumb thing to buy. It needed to be refrigerated, and she wasn’t about to present Juan with a box of Trojans and a quart of milk.
    He’d think she was nuts.
    Maybe she was, she decided, as she poured the milk on the ground so it wouldn’t spoil in her truck.
    Next she opened the breath mints, popped one in her mouth and waited until it dissolved.
    By the time she knocked on Juan’s door, her hands were shaking.
    He answered with a worried expression, and she lost her voice. He stood before her in no shoes, no shirt and a pair of jeans, the zipper hastily fastened, the top button undone.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” he asked. “Is one of the horses sick?”
    â€œNo. Everything is fine.” She clutched the brown paper bag, wondering how to go about this. When he stepped away from the door, she entered his house and saw the unmade bed. “I’m sorry I got you up at this hour.”
    â€œI wasn’t asleep. Are you sure everything is okay?”
    She glanced at his stomach, at the line of hair below his navel. She wanted to sketch it with her finger, trace it down into his pants.
    â€œLourdes?”
    She looked up. “I couldn’t stop thinking about us, Juan.”
    â€œReally?” He moved closer. “Me, too. That’s why I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t get you off my mind.”
    With her courage bolstered, she handed him the bag.
    He peered inside, then lifted his gaze. His eyes all but sparkled, bright and alive with emotion.
    He touched her cheek, his callused fingers rough against her skin. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œYou won’t have any regrets later on? Worries about the future? About what happens after I regain my memory?”
    Yes, she had fears, so many fears. But for now, she needed him. “You’re worth the risk.”
    He drew her into his arms, and for the longest time, they simply held each other.
    â€œWe’ll figure something out,” he said. “No matter who I am or where I’m from, we’ll make it work.”
    She buried her face against his neck and inhaled his scent. “Is that a commitment, Juan?”
    â€œYes,” he whispered. “It is.”
    Her heart made a girlish leap and she clung to him,desperate to keep him close. Could it be this easy? Could they stay together, no matter what?
    He opened the condom box and shoved a foil packet into his front pocket. Next he reached for her blouse, and she watched him undo the buttons.
    This was more than foreplay, she thought. More than a physical need.
    Lourdes leaned forward to kiss him, to taste his mouth, his tongue, the hunger churning through his blood.
    â€œDo you know how incredible this is?” he asked. “I’ve had so many fantasies about you. And here you are, offering yourself to me.”
    She unhooked her bra, and he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples. “Tell me about your fantasies, Juan.”
    He unzipped her skirt and pushed the denim fabric down her hips. “I want to make you come, Lourdes. I want to lick between your legs and make you come.”
    Oh, my. The air in her lungs whooshed out, and she glanced away to keep herself from blushing. His hands were everywhere, gliding over her breasts and the sheer-colored panty hose she wore, following the contours of her body.
    â€œLook at me,” he said.
    She shifted her gaze and met his.
    â€œWill you let me? Will you let me put my mouth there?”
    Her heart pounded against her ribs. Was his pounding, too? She glanced at his chest, at the ripple of muscle.
    â€œLourdes?”
    She glanced lower, at his fly, the bulge barely contained beneath his zipper.
    â€œWill you let