COWBOY FOR SALE--A Second-Chances Spicy Romance Page 11

  While Jared and Lacey listened, she bustled around the kitchen, efficiently building mile-high roast beef sandwiches.

  “You must be famished,” she muttered. “I didn't think those reporters would ever leave.”

  Jared and Lacey exchanged neutral glances.

  “Don't get me wrong,” she continued, “the publicity is priceless—you just can't buy that kind of advertising. Lettuce and tomato?” she asked, not bothering to even look up from her work.

  Jared and Lacey said “yes” in unison.

  “There. Now you two just sit here and eat. I'll check on your cabin and have Andy take your things on over.” Before she left, she paused long enough to put down two plates on the table, each heaped with potato salad and a monstrous sandwich. “Help yourself to whatever's in the icebox to drink.”

  Unhesitatingly, Jared picked up the sandwich and took a big bite, surprised how hungry he felt. The bread was sweet and dark, definitely homemade. It would be a treat to have someone else handle meals for a couple days, he decided, another perk to getting away.

  He paused a moment and rolled the tension from his shoulders. He felt the distinct crack of some vertebrae in his spine. It had been a very long, uncomfortable afternoon.

  Two hours of posing with his arm around Lacey's waist, gazing into her hazel-green eyes, forced to stand where and how the photographers wished, arms constantly around each other—he was exhausted from the strain of restraint.

  Their final pose had consisted of Lacey sitting on his lap while they stared into the fire that blazed in the gigantic stone fireplace. It had almost been too much. He wondered if she'd felt his hardened groin. If she had, she hadn't shown it and for that he was grateful.

  Surprisingly, the posing seemed to have little, if any, effect on her. She had remained cool, calm, and collected. He had been amazed at her composure through it all, wondering how she could remain so controlled.

  Every time his hand was on her body he'd had to fill his mind with distracting lists—lists of things he needed to get at the grocery store…tools that needed cleaning…names of all the alpacas in his herd...anything to keep himself from caressing her arm…her shoulder…her back. It had been a tortuous exercise in diversion.

  “Good?” Lacey asked, interrupting his thoughts.

  He nodded, his mouth too full to answer. He watched her as she took a decidedly unladylike bite of the sandwich. At least she was human enough to be hungry. He enjoyed watching her eat, remembering how their dinner together at his place had been fine, fun even.

  They ate silently for several moments.

  “I may live,” he finally said when his plate was half empty.

  She nodded her agreement.

  Jared's chair scraped noisily as he pushed himself away from the table. He opened the refrigerator door and stuck his head inside. “There's milk, OJ, and beer.”

  “Beer, if there’s dark,” she answered.

  He opened two beers and put them on the table. As he drew a long swallow from his, Lacey did the same.

  Jared watched her, trance-like, as her tongue flicked over her lower lip to catch a tiny drop of liquid. She caught him staring, and her cheeks flushed red.

  “One of the best dark beers out of Mexico.” He stared at her lips, moist and full. Lips he wanted to get closer to.

  The slamming door signaled the return of their hostess, jolting him back to reality.

  He only had one thought ricocheting in his mind.

  It's going to be one hell of a long night.

  Chapter Ten

  Jared walked silently behind Lacey as they followed Mrs. Miller to the cabin she had selected for them. While she chattered to Lacey about the ups and downs of the bed and breakfast business, Jared stared at Lacey's hair.

  Her long curls captured the intermittent rays of sunlight that broke through the pines, producing dazzling highlights of dark auburn and deep mahogany. His hand reached out to lift a curl, quickly retracting it as Lacey's hand reached back to smooth her waves, as though she’d maybe sensed his fingers longing to touch her silky hair.

  Feeling suddenly self-conscious, like a schoolboy ready to torment the girl he secretly desired, he forced himself to look ahead at the cabin they were approaching.

  It was built of rough logs, with a large stone chimney reminiscent of the one at the main house. Pine trees grew amazingly close to the walls, sheltering it from the late afternoon sun and heat. There was a definite ambiance of coziness, seclusion, and peace and quiet.

  Under different circumstances…

  No, he couldn’t let himself think one thought further.

  ***

  Inside the cabin, Jared and Lacey obediently followed their hostess from room to room, listening attentively.

  “This one rents almost exclusively to newlyweds,” Mrs. Miller explained.

  Lacey avoided looking at Jared as her pulse quickened.

  At first glance their accommodations seemed like a typical rustic cabin with its rough hewn log walls and plank floor, but Mrs. Miller proudly pointed out all the modern amenities.

  “There's plenty of wood for the fireplace. It'll get chilly as soon as the sun goes down. Matches are on the mantel. Do you know how to build a fire?”

  Lacey glanced at the sheepskin rug in front of the massive fireplace, then at Jared. He nodded his answer to Mrs. Miller’s question.

  Oh my. Lacey wasn't so sure she could handle seeing Jared by firelight. Every time he’d placed his arm possessively around her waist during the endless photo shoot with the reporters firing question after question, she’d felt a confusing mixture of contentment and…what? Temptation, she’d decided, then shook off the unwanted thought that rang a little too true.

  No, this was simply a weekend with a nice guy. No expectations. No complications. They both deserved a break from their busy lives, right? They were adults, for heaven’s sake. Just because they were spending…time…together didn’t mean, well, anything.

  There was no logical reason not to be there.

  In the living room Mrs. Miller also casually mentioned the sofa made out into a bed, so there were even easy sleeping arrangements built in.

  Perfect.

  Finally satisfied she’d at least mentally worked through the situation, Lacey shifted her attention back to Mrs. Miller as the followed her down the hall.

  “We just remodeled the bathroom and added an oversized tub in here,” she explained, “complete with whirlpool jets. People pay more for it these days. And who doesn’t love a nice hot bath.” She pointed out the controls and where the towels were kept.

  Now that sounds like my idea of the perfect Saturday night. Lacey gazed longingly at the huge claw-foot tub that looked old, but was completely modern. Her muscles ached like crazy. She wasn't sure if it was from the tense ride up the mountain or from the stress of all the uncomfortably romantic poses the photographer had insisted on.

  The feel of Jared's muscular arms around her had made her head swim. She had used every ounce of ability to concentrate on not reacting to the feel of his body touching hers in so many intimate poses. In her attempt to block her feelings, she barely remembered what had even happened over the two hours of dealing with the publicity crew.

  She’d shifted into her professional persona, she supposed, a talent she’d developed as she’d learned to deal with corporate bigwigs who dropped in unannounced at the salon from time to time, and it was also a technique she’d used many times over the years when handling difficult clients.

  The subsequent newspaper articles would certainly prove whether she’d managed to speak intelligently or not, and now that it was over, she found herself letting it all go. It is what it is. No sense worrying about it now.

  “The bedroom's over here,” Mrs. Miller continued, walking back out into the hallway and into another room. “There's an extra comforter in the wardrobe.”

  Lacey quietly gasped in appreciation as she walked into the large room. The bedroom was filled with mint co
ndition antiques, giving the impression of walking into a high class nineteenth century hotel instead of a rustic mountain cabin. Wildflowers filled cranberry glass vases on the tall dresser and bedside tables. An upholstered rocking chair sat by the window next to a round table covered with an antique lace cloth.

  The hardwood floors were covered with thick, Persian carpets that begged to be walked on barefoot. In front of the fireplace was a large sheepskin rug.

  The bed was an old-fashioned four-poster, open at the top, each post draped in gauzy linen fabric. Pillows were heaped on the bed, a hand-stitched quilt folded at the foot completing the look.

  “And here's the private patio, which is also accessible from the living room.” Mrs. Miller opened the tall French doors and they followed her out to a fenced-in, private deck where a small hot tub was recessed in the center. Next to the spa were two oversized wicker chairs and a glass-topped table.

  “It's beautiful,” Lacey said. When she looked for Jared, she saw he’d hung back, and stood in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest.

  “I'm so glad you kids like it.” Mrs. Miller let out a contented sigh. “No television and no phone. You two just relax and enjoy yourselves. The cabin comes with a gourmet breakfast in a basket, so check your front stoop after eight tomorrow morning. There's a coffee maker in the kitchenette and a fridge that the auction people stocked for you. Have a good evening.”

  Before Lacey could respond, Mrs. Miller bustled past Jared toward the front door.

  He remained in the doorway, watching. Lacey bent, lifting the edge of the hot tub cover. Steam escaped into the air. “It's already hot.”

  “Sometimes it's more energy efficient to keep it heated all the time. You bring a suit?” he asked.

  Lacey swished her hand in the water. The temperature felt perfect. “I didn't think I'd need one.”

  “You wanna flip for it—bathtub or hot tub?”

  Lacey smiled at his diplomatic solution. “I'll take the bathtub. All I have is a shower at home. A bubble bath sounds perfectly decadent to me.”

  “Let me use the facilities, I'll grab a towel and be out of your way in a jiff.”

  She wondered how many hours she could soak in a hot bath before she withered away. It seemed a perfect way to kill some of the long evening that awaited. Walking inside, she located her suitcase and with a groan, managed to heave it up on the bed. When she unzipped the main compartment, she discovered a bottle of champagne and an envelope.

  “Kandy,” she said as she opened the envelope to read the note inside:

  Don't worry, Lacey, we've got everything under control.

  You concentrate on relaxing—hope the bubbly helps!

  Love,

  the Girls.

  Lacey pulled out a bottle of champagne, then a basket of wonderfully fragrant soaps and lotions from her favorite bath shop at the mall. She brought them closer to her nose, breathing in the strawberry scent. A small bottle of bubble bath completed the gift pack.

  “I'm done—it's all yours,” Jared called from the hall.

  “Thanks—see you in a few hours.” She looked up to see Jared's head at the doorway.

  “You're joking, right?”

  “I plan to soak until it's not fun anymore. I'm just not sure how long that'll be.”

  “Right. You need any help in here?” His gaze was on the champagne and the gift basket.

  “The girls at the salon sent a few surprises in my suitcase.”

  He grinned at her. “I like surprises. See ya.”

  Lacey grinned back, then stared after him, wondering a little about what he’d said.

  Turning her attention back to her suitcase, she located her makeup bag and bathroom paraphernalia.

  “Okay, where are my pajamas?” She dug through her entire suitcase with no success. At the very bottom, she heard the rustle of paper.

  What now?

  She pulled out a tissue-wrapped bundle, quickly tearing into the thin paper. Inside was a long white nightgown and matching sheer, white robe. The silky material was whisper light and extraordinarily soft. It was a beautiful ensemble.

  Great. I might just have to strangle them all when I get back.

  She sighed, then placed the set back into her suitcase, settling for a sweatshirt and jeans to put on after her bath.

  ***

  On the deck, Jared slipped out of his clothes. He imagined Lacey was doing about the same thing at that moment. After moving the cover off the hot tub and placing it to one side, he stepped into the steaming water of the hot tub, then let his body go limp and slid completely into the water, head and all.

  A small, happy groan escaped his throat as he pulled his head out of the water, wiping his eyes and smoothing back his hair. Settling himself on the smooth bench seat that circled the interior, he cradled his neck on the edge of the tub.

  With great effort, he emptied his mind of every nagging thought, every chore that wasn't being done, each detail of his normal, everyday life. But as he soaked in the steaming water, his resolve weakened and his mind filled with imaginary, detailed pictures of Lacey covered in bubbles in the large bathtub on the other side of the wall.

  He imagined her hair…wet, dark, tendrils floating in the bathwater. Then soaping herself, bubbles touching every inch of her creamy, delicate skin… Stop. His body betrayed him once again and he banished the lovely visions from his head.

  Back in control, several delicious, thoughtless moments passed before Jared finally opened his eyes, more asleep than awake. The stars had come out and were brilliant against the dark sky. He identified the stars and planets he knew, remembering how Lacey had seemed to enjoy looking at them with him that night at his place. Then his heavy-lidded eyes closed again.

  He felt so relaxed, so comfortable.

  What am I doing here? This is about the stupidest thing I've done in a long time.

  Jared's jaw clenched. Another picture of Lacey flashed into his mind. She was beautiful, that was no lie. And how did she make her hair so…soft. So touchable. While posing for the photographs he'd hardly been able to resist from allowing his hands to entangle themselves in her curls. Truth be told, he wanted to bury his face in her hair.

  No. She's a career woman. And a successful one. Jo had been good enough to remind him of that. He didn't need that kind of complication—now or ever.

  A nagging voice planted new words for him to consider. Maybe it doesn't have to be serious. Who says every relationship has to be serious, anyway?

  His subsequent thought answered the question. Why start something if it's going to end? Reluctantly, he realized his groin had the best argument. Even in the hot water he was reacting just to the thought of her. He felt like a teenager sneaking peeks at his father's Playboy magazines.

  Why go through with it if it's not real?

  He imagined them together, and the ache increased.

  It had been a long time. Too long?

  Reluctantly, he had to admit that he missed the touch of a woman.

  ***

  Lacey avoided the bathtub's power jets in lieu of using the strawberry scented bubble bath. Her hair neatly coiled and pinned on top of her head, she rested her neck on a folded towel on the tub’s edge.

  This is heaven. My next home must have a bathtub.

  She played with the bubbles, palming them, building sculptures on the curve of her breasts. Relax, she commanded herself, slamming her eyes shut. It was difficult to slow down. Her life was busy, just the way she liked it. Nothing to complain about.

  Except for the loneliness.

  Her eyes blinked open. Pushing the thought away, she eased herself deeper into the water. I like my life. Of course it would be nice to share…some things with someone. And I will someday, on my terms…my choice.

  So, why was she here? The voice in her head whispered the question clearly.

  They could have easily chosen not to stay the night, she knew that. Jamie's flu provided the perfect excuse. And their hostess wou
ldn't have known that Jared's daughter was almost over her twenty-four-hour flu-bug and, in fact, had been up watching videos when he'd called to check on her after their meal.

  Why am I here?

  She closed her eyes to concentrate. The only word that she was able to grasp among the many slippery excuses was one: curiosity. And, well, maybe she needed to consider Kandy's advice and just have a little fun. It’s the twenty-first century, for heaven’s sake. I'm over twenty-one. I take the pill. Why not?

  A sharp rap at the bathroom door sent her adrenalin pumping. She sat up in the tub so abruptly that water and bubbles slapped on the floor.

  “Lacey? It's me. I…I need to come in for a second. I cut…myself…on a piece of glass in the hot tub.”

  She sat up straighter. “Is it bad? Are you bleeding?”

  The door opened a crack and she slid back into the bubbles up to her chin.

  “Sorry, I really need to come in—”

  Lacey strategically positioned the dwindling bubbles as he pushed open the bathroom door. Jared's face was flushed, his eyes filled with apologies.

  She stared at him, her lips apart in appreciation. She took an instant inventory: well-developed chest muscles, flat stomach, farmer-tanned arms, dark hair just above the small towel that was wrapped at his slim waist.

  She watched as he turned around to show her the steadily expanding bloodstain on the towel—a stain originating from his right cheek.

  “Oh, my goodness! What happened to your—”

  “I'm afraid you're going to have to help me…bandage it or something. I don't think there's any glass in it or anything—”

  “Well, don't just stand there, hand me a towel, Jared.”

  “Oh. Right.” He took the folded towel off the counter by the sink, backed up toward her, and dangled it behind him for her to grab.