Free A Stallion's Touch by Deborah Fletcher Mello

be in each other’s presence. As she thought about it, she didn’t feel a need to share with Nicholas. She saw no point in making the issue bigger than it needed to be.
    â€œI’ll make sure to watch the game on TV, and I’ll be shaking my pom-poms for you. I used to be a cheerleader, you know. In high school and college,” she said, deflecting the conversation.
    â€œWhy does that not surprise me?” His grin was canyon-wide, showcasing a beautiful snow-white smile.
    â€œI could shake them for you in person, if you win , of course. Once you’re done celebrating after the game, maybe you can plan a trip to Phoenix?”
    â€œIs that an invitation, Tarah Boudreaux? Are you asking me to come to Arizona to see you?”
    Tarah paused for a fraction of a second. Nicholas watched as she suddenly rolled onto her back, the covers falling away as the length of her long legs extended upward toward the ceiling. She flexed one pedicured foot and then the other, then bent both legs downward before rolling back to her stomach. The gesture was teasing as she flashed him another peek at her bare flesh and her high-cut lace panties. Amusement danced across her face and his.
    â€œYou said once the season was over, you needed to take a break. I was just giving you a few suggestions,” Tarah finally answered.
    â€œStarting with Phoenix and ending with Phoenix?”
    â€œPhoenix is a beautiful place to visit.” The look in her eyes was both demure and coquettish.
    Nicholas grinned, a hint of mischief in his own gaze. “I can’t wait for you to show me what makes it so special!”
    Their laughter continued for hours. Midnight came and went, and the two were still discovering things about each other. Tarah learned that Nicholas was not a fan of fried chicken or pasta and he detested mustard and ketchup, preferring mayonnaise on his hot dogs and hamburgers. He owned a houseboat on Lake Union in Seattle, Washington, and he preferred the floating home to his penthouse apartment in Los Angeles. That one home, his car and his favored Rolex watch had been his only luxury purchases since joining the league, and despite what some people thought, material possessions meant very little to him.
    Tarah had allowed herself to share things with him that she’d never purposely shared with anyone. Few others knew that she loved classical music and that she read Shakespeare for pleasure. Nicholas could only smile when he discovered she had a sweet tooth for fruit pies and ice cream and that she had never ever eaten popcorn. She had told him that the puffed grain reminded her of a toadstool she’d eaten when she’d been small that had sickened her.
    They teased and taunted each other, falling into an easy rhythm that Nicholas found comforting. Like that first time, and each time thereafter, saying goodbye proved to be difficult at best.
    â€œOne of us needs to hang up,” Nicholas said, his quiet tone like the gentlest of caresses. “You need to be up early, don’t you?”
    Tarah nodded. “So do you.”
    He nodded. “Will you call me tomorrow?”
    â€œNo.”
    He smiled. “Don’t call me. I’ll call you.”
    â€œWear something sexy when you do,” she said, her mouth lifting in an upward bend. “Wear lace.”
    Nicholas laughed. “Hey, I have no problem showing you mine if you’ll show me yours!”
    * * *
    Tarah’s laugh was the most exquisite sound. It was vibrant and airy, like the sweetest breeze on a perfect spring afternoon. When she laughed, Nicholas couldn’t do anything else but laugh along with her. They had played telephone tag for most of the day, so when they finally caught up with one another, he was excited to hear her laugh. They’d been talking for over an hour.
    â€œPeople always have the wrong impression about me,” she said, still giggling.
    â€œWe’re talking about your