But that seemed cowardly. At nineteen she hadn’t had the guts to face the music after her centerfold had appeared in Macho and she’d run away to L.A. Ten years later, she liked to believe she had more courage. Besides, what difference did it make if Noah yelled at her? It wasn’t as if they had a future together or anything.
So she’d stay and wait for him to arrive. Because of the scene she anticipated, she’d better invite him up to the room. Dealing with his fury would be difficult enough without also putting on a show for every person in the lobby or the hotel coffee shop.
If he’d taken a cab downtown, he could be here any minute. Her room was trashed, the bed unmade and the covers tossed aside during her hopeless attempt to sleep. A couple of towels lay on the floor from a long shower that had done nothing to relax her. She thought of making the bed and picking up the area, but that seemed way too anal.
Then she glanced down at her outfit—her favorite knit tank top, the old white one she wore for writing because it was soft as a baby’s bottom, and yellow gingham stretch capris, also a writing favorite because, for some reason, she always felt more creative wearing them.
Her clothes hadn’t helped her write so far this morning. Neither had a big pot of room-service coffee. With Noah on the way, she might as well give up.
She thought about changing clothes now that she didn’t intend to work on her article anymore. But she had no idea what to wear for a fight. And she was sure that’s what they were about to have.
Maybe she should put on makeup, too, except that she didn’t want to look as if she was coming on to him and make him even angrier. He couldn’t very well think she was being seductive if she met him looking like this—barefoot, no makeup and her hair pulled into a ponytail. Maybe that was exactly the look she needed for a fight. In this outfit, she felt stripped to the basic, with her gloves off. Lean and mean, ready for anything.
She’d done an article on fair fighting for couples and the suggestions had sounded perfectly reasonable at the time. Now, as adrenaline poured through her system, the suggestions sounded ridiculous. To heck with fair fighting. Time to line up her defense. This whole thing wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t assumed she was looking for a job dancing topless and pompously tried to save her. Just who did he think he was, anyway?
Yeah, no wonder she’d decided to teach him a thing or two. He’d been asking for it, behaving as if he had the corner on right living. Who made him in charge of the world? Suppose she had been a topless dancer and had loved her job? What right did he have passing judgment on her choice of career?
Okay, she was geared up for this donnybrook now. Let him come. And speaking of that, where the hell was he? Traffic wouldn’t be that heavy right now, and if he’d come straight to her hotel from the Pussycat Lounge, he’d be here.
So he hadn’t come straight to her hotel. That was a depressing thought. The only thing worse than having this fight with Noah would be not having it. She couldn’t believe he’d go back to Arizona without telling her what he thought of her behavior. He’d want to have the last word. Wouldn’t he?
When another half hour passed and her phone hadn’t rung, she was nearly ready to stomp over to the Tahitian and find out what was keeping him. Damn it, he’d stirred her up and then left her to wear a path in the carpet. Surely he wouldn’t track her down and then drop the whole matter. That would be so diabolical, so unlike Noah’s direct approach to things.
She was ready to scream with frustration by the time the phone finally rang. She snatched it up and uttered a curt greeting.
“Keely, darlin’,” Noah drawled, “you sound upset.”
“Where have you been?”
He chuckled. “Not far away. Just having a bite to eat in the coffee shop of your hotel.”
She couldn’t figure it out. He should be yelling, and he was chuckling. She was the one yelling. “How can you sit down there and eat at a time like this?”
“I was hungry.” He sounded lazy and content…almost. But there was a subtle thread of tension underneath that casual tone.
Her heartbeat slid into a faster tempo. The years had made a few changes in Noah’s behavior, apparently, because he wasn’t reacting the way she’d thought he would. She had to believe he was full out furious, and yet he sounded loose and in control. All she had to go on was that hint of tension, which she might be imagining because she expected it to be there. “I guess…I guess you should come up so we can talk about this.”
“That would be fine. But I don’t want to interrupt your work.”
His voice tickled up and down her spine, making her shiver. “I’m not working.”
“Then maybe you’re doing research.”
“No.” Maybe it was his location holding him back. He didn’t want to yell at her while he was using the house phone in the lobby. Made sense.
“Then maybe you’re testing the suggestions you made in your latest article,” he said smoothly.
“Excuse me?” She was so nervous about this coming fight that she could barely remember her name, let alone what she’d written for the last issue.
“I picked up one of your magazines in the gift shop and, sure enough, there was an article by you. I read it while I was eating. Learned quite a bit about multiple orgasms.”
She swallowed. “Oh.”
“The way I understand it, self-gratification is a big part of women learning how to have them.” He might have been discussing cattle prices, from the nonchalant way he said it. “I thought you might be practicing.”
If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was sexually teasing her the way she’d teased him earlier in the weekend. But that didn’t seem like Noah, especially now, when he was so angry. She wished he’d start yelling at her, because then she’d know what to do. She’d figured out her side of the argument. But he wasn’t playing this according to her script and she was having trouble keeping her balance with the conversation.
She cleared her throat. “Noah, what’s your point?”
“It seems I underestimated you, Keely. You have a lot more talents than I was giving you credit for. I’m here to apologize for reading you so wrong.” “You are?” Now she was thrown completely off-kilter.
“Absolutely. I’d like to make that apology in person, if you’ll give me your room number.”
Maybe they were going to discuss this like two mature adults. No passion. Damn it, that didn’t feel right, but if that was his approach, she had to go along. You couldn’t fight with someone if they wouldn’t fight back, and it was up to him to strike the first verbal blow.
She cleared her throat, determined to take the high road, too. “Noah, I should apologize, too, for leading you astray.”
He laughed. “You certainly did lead me astray, darlin’.”
Her skin flushed hot. And that sexy laugh rolled through her, doing all kinds of mischief. If only he didn’t have a sexy laugh. And a sexy voice. And a sexy mouth. “Actually, I meant for misleading you about my occupation.”
“No apology necessary. There was a certain thrill involved, thinking that you were a bad girl. You taught me a lot about fantasies, Keely. I’m grateful for that.”
“Oh.” She rubbed her temple, which was beginning to throb with the promise of a headache. She’d introduced him to fantasy and now he’d probably use that knowledge to enrich his life with somebody else. She’d been useful. Triple bummer. “I see,” she said. “That’s very…nice.”
“Give me your room number. I think it would be better to say these things to each other face-to-face.”
If they were going to have a civilized discussion, she could just as easily meet him in the lobby, but she wasn’t really dressed for that. She gave him her room number.
“Thanks. I’ll be right there.”
She hung up the phone, totally confused. She’d expected him to blow sky-high on the phone, then demand her room number so he could yell at her some more in person. Instead, he was apologizing. Thanking her for introdu
cing him to some fantasy concepts. Getting ready for a kiss-off speech.
Oh, Lord, that was it. Thanks for the memories. It’s been a lot of fun. Bye.
She felt sick to her stomach. This was the speech she’d been trying to avoid ever since they’d met in front of the Pussycat and he’d indicated he wanted to save her. She’d figured if she called the shots, she could make the speech instead of him and protect her heart at least a little.
Even leaving the Tahitian hadn’t been all bad, because she’d been the one saying a silent goodbye. If Noah had stormed up to her room and raged at her before stomping out, that wouldn’t have been all bad either. Passion was never bad. Instead, he planned to deliver a calm, rational kiss-off speech. He sure knew how to hurt a girl.
When he knocked on the door, she jumped and her heart began to pound. Well, she’d grown up in the years they’d been apart, too. She would simply beat him to the punch.
Somewhere, she’d dredge up a few chuckles of her own as she told him what a fun and frivolous time she’d had this weekend. Years from now she’d be able to look back and laugh at how crazy they’d been, she’d tell him.
She opened the door with a smile. Forced, yes, but a smile, damn it. The smile wavered.
He stood there looking better than any man had a right to look, especially after the weekend they’d had. “Hello, Keely,” he said quietly.
She glanced away. She’d never pull this off if she spent any time staring into those warm brown eyes. “Well, we certainly did it up this weekend, didn’t we?” She stepped aside to let him in. “I also need to thank you for sharing that suite with me. As you can see, I don’t have much in the way of fountains and hot tubs in here.”
Noah walked into the room and glanced around. “It’ll do.”
She closed the door and leaned against it while she contemplated his choice of words. She watched as he took off his Stetson and laid it brim-side up on the table where her computer sat, still switched on. “Do for what?” she asked warily.
Without answering, he glanced at the computer, pulled out the chair she’d been sitting in and settled into it. He gazed at the screen for several seconds. “Some screensaver you have here,” he said. “Puts my shooting stars all to shame.”
“Why don’t I turn that thing off?” She shouldn’t be surprised that he used a computer at the ranch. Saguaro Junction was small and conservative, but that didn’t mean the town was filled with hicks.
He leaned back in the chair and glanced at her. “Why turn it off? I’m not embarrassed, and you certainly shouldn’t be, considering how daring you are.”
She shrugged, not willing to admit that the stupid little screensaver reminded her of what she’d never experience with Noah. “Well, I’m not embarrassed, but for the record, I don’t use that screensaver on my office computer. It’s strictly for private use on my laptop.”
He gazed at her. “You’re really destroying my image of you, Keely. First I find out you’re not a call girl, not even a topless dancer, and now you tell me you don’t have X-rated screensavers on your office computer. Next you’ll be telling me that you’ve never had a multiple orgasm, despite writing a whole article about it.”
She drew in a quick breath and her pulse hammered. Man, she’d never expected that comment, and what was worse, he was dead-on. After writing the article, she’d meant to experiment a little, but then she just…hadn’t. There were many sexual adventures she’d written about, fantasized about and ultimately retreated from. It was one of her well-kept secrets.
Her weekend with Noah had seemed like the perfect time to be brave. Here was a man who thought she would dare anything, and she’d felt the thrill of living up to her reputation for once. It had been liberating and wonderful, and…safe. Maybe that was why she’d cut loose. She could be as wild as she wanted to be with Noah because she’d trusted him to keep her safe.
Pushing back the chair, he stood. “Did I touch a nerve, Keely?”
She laughed, hoping she sounded amused and not nervous. “Are you kidding? You know what kind of woman I am, Noah. I have no rules, no limits. A free spirit, that’s me.”
“I thought so, too.” He came closer, a gleam of purpose in his eyes. “But I’m beginning to wonder if I know you at all.”
She backed up. He looked more intimidating now and a muscle twitched in his jaw. This was what she’d expected from him in the first place. She dredged up her carefully conceived arguments. “I’m sorry I tricked you, Noah, but it’s your own fault.”
“Is that right?” He advanced another step.
“I told you I was going into the Pussycat for an interview. You’re the one who jumped to the conclusion that it was a job interview.” She had nowhere to go. Her butt was pressed against the top drawer of a low-slung dresser and she gripped the edge for balance. Lifting her chin, she tried to stare him down. She wasn’t afraid that he’d physically attack her, but by deliberately invading her space he was making her very uncomfortable and…yes…aroused.
She didn’t want him to know that.
“When you realized what I was thinking, you could have corrected me,” he said easily. But there was nothing easy about the look in his eyes.
“And I might have, if you hadn’t offered to help me mend my wicked ways! Do you have any concept of how arrogant that offer was?”
He gazed at her, his eyes dark and intense. “You know, I think I do.”
She blinked. Just when she was getting up to speed, he threw marbles under her feet. “You do?”
“Yeah. And maybe I deserved everything you dished out.”
“Really?” She scrambled to regroup. “Right! You sure did!” She tried to breathe normally, but he was so very close, almost touching her. Her nostrils flared as she caught the scent of him. That alone was enough to get her juices flowing. “There you were, acting so high and mighty, like you were above it all, some sort of Eliot Ness of the sex world. I had to knock you off your perch and show you that you were corruptible like everybody else.”
“You did a good job.” He paused and the light of challenge sparkled in his eyes. “For an amateur.”
“Amateur?” she yelped. Then she realized he was trying to undermine her credibility, which would give him more power. She couldn’t let him get away with that. “Amateur, my G-string. You’re talking to Miss November, buster. And what about all the articles on sex I’ve written in the past six years? When it comes to erotic fantasies, I know what I’m talking about!”
“Oh, I believe you.” He’d closed the small gap between them and now he braced a hand on either side of her and leaned down until his face was inches from hers. His tone remained conversational. “I just wonder how much practical experience you’ve had—other than this weekend, that is.”
Her heart thundered. She wanted him to think she was five times more experienced than he was so she could keep control of the situation. But she didn’t feel in control. She wanted him to make wild, crazy love to her, and that wasn’t good, because she figured he had a different plan.
Too late she realized she stood braced against the dresser with her legs slightly apart. She was too open, too vulnerable. And, oh, God, too wet. Yet if she moved to close her legs, that would tip him off that she was falling prey to his sexual game.
“Have you ever had a multiple orgasm, Keely?” he asked softly.
She could barely breathe. “None of your beeswax.”
His lips twitched in amusement. “What did you say?”
“I said none of your business.”
“No, you didn’t.” He grinned. “You said ‘none of your beeswax,’ just like you used to say when you were nine years old and I caught you trying to sneak sugar cubes to the horses.”
“I’m not nine years old anymore.”
His grin faded and heat blazed in his eyes. “I’m well aware of that.” He stepped neatly between her legs and settled his erection against her crotch. “Painfully aware of that.”
She swallowed a gasp. He
felt way too good there. “I know where you’re going with this,” she said.
He pressed forward slightly and his gaze held hers. “Do you?”
She tried to keep the tremble from her voice, tried not to get lost in those dark eyes. “You want to get me worked up, and then you’re going to walk out of here without doing anything, to punish me for fooling you.”
“That’s not a bad idea. There’s only one flaw in it. Walking out of here without doing anything would punish me, too. On the way over I decided that I’ve suffered enough this weekend trying to hold back and be noble. I intend to leave here a very satisfied man.”
She was light-headed with desire, but she fought the urge to give in. She might be in love with him, but he obviously didn’t feel that way about her. In the end, he still planned to leave. “I won’t let you use me for sex and then discard me.”
His tone was low and intimate, and his eyes burned with an unholy fire. “Why not? Isn’t that what you had in mind for me?” He nudged her with the ridge of his fly.
Sensation zinged from that tender spot between her legs to the tips of her toes and fingers. “No, I—”
“I think the big-city girl wanted some fun with the small-town boy.” He nudged her again. “I think you wanted to play at being a really hot babe, a sex-driven bad girl, with a guy from back home who didn’t know any different. Yeah, I think you wanted to use me for sex and then discard me. I think that’s exactly what you wanted. I think you might even have been hoping for some of those multiple orgasms you’ve never had. Only, the plan got interrupted because somebody recognized you.”
“You don’t know anything about it! For your information, I—” She stopped speaking abruptly when she realized the trap she was in. The only way she could convince him that she wasn’t a sexual predator was to admit she’d been in love with him for most of her life, and her weakness for him had motivated her more than anything else. She’d wanted one weekend to remember. But she wasn’t about to give him that information and be hurt even worse than she had been at sixteen.
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