Page 48 of A Man for Amanda
He switched to her ear. “I thought that was me.”
“Maybe.” She gave a surprised yip when he bit her. “Savage.”
“Sometimes the Cherokee in me takes over.”
She leaned back to study his face. In the bleeding lights of sunset, his skin was almost copper, his eyes so dark a green they were nearly black. Yes, she could see both sides of his heritage, the Celtic and the Cherokee, both warriors, in those knife-edged cheekbones, the sculpted mouth, the wild reddish hair.
“I really don’t know anything about you.” Yet it hadn’t been like making love to a stranger. When he had touched her, she’d known everything. “Just that you’re an architect from Oklahoma who went to Harvard.”
“You know I like beer and long-legged women.”
“There’s that.”
Because he could see it was important to her, he sat on the wall, his back to the sea. “Okay, Calhoun, what do you want to know?”
“I don’t want to interrogate you.” The old nerves resurfaced, making it impossible for her to settle. “It’s just that you know everything about me, really. My family, my background, my ambitions.”
Because he enjoyed watching her move, he took out a cigar, lighted it, then began to speak. “My great-great-grandfather left Ireland for the New World, and headed west to trap beaver. A genuine mountain man. He married a Cherokee woman, and hung around long enough to get three sons. One day he went off trapping and never came back. The sons started a trading post, did pretty well. One of them sent for a mail-order bride, a nice Irish girl. They had a passel of kids, including my grandfather. He was, and is, a wily old devil who bought up land while it was cheap enough, then hung on until he could sell it at a profit. Keeping up family tradition, he married Irish, a redheaded spitfire who supposedly drove him crazy. He must have loved her a lot, because he named the first oil well after her.”
Amanda, who had been charmed thus far, blinked. “Oil well?”
“He called it Maggie,” Sloan said with a grin as he blew out smoke. “She got such a kick out of it, he gave names to the rest of them, too.”
“The rest of them,” Amanda said faintly.
“My father took over the company in the sixties, but the old man hasn’t stopped putting his two cents in. He’s still ticked that I didn’t go into the company, but I wanted to build, and I figured Sun Industries didn’t need me.”
“Sun Industries?” She nearly choked. It was one of the biggest conglomerates in the country. “You—I had no idea that you had money.”
“My family does, anyway. Problem?”
“No. I just wouldn’t want you to think that I...” She trailed off helplessly.
“That you were after the family fortune?” He let out a hoot of laughter. “Honey, I know you were after my body.”
He had the uncanny ability to make her want to swear and laugh at the same time. “You really are a conceited jerk.”
He tossed the cigar aside before making a grab for her. “But you love me.”
“Maybe I do.” With pretended reluctance, she slipped her arms around him. “A little.” On a laugh, she lifted her lips to his. His mouth started off teasing, then heated with demands. His hands were light, then impatient, until she was wrapped tight around him, pouring herself mindlessly into the kiss.
“How do you do that to me?” she murmured as he nipped at her moist, parted lips.
“Do what?”
“Make me want you until it hurts.”
On an unsteady moan, he pressed his lips to her throat. “Let’s go inside. You can show me my room.”
She tilted her head to give his busy mouth more freedom. “What room?”
“The room where we’ll pretend I’m going to sleep when I’m sleeping with you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about making love with you until we both need oxygen.” Because he knew he was on the point of dragging her down on the hard, cold tiles, he set her away from him. “And I’m talking about the fact that I’m staying here until the alarm system’s operational.”
“But you don’t need—”
