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MYSTERY LOVER
Vicky Lewis Thompson
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Contents:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
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Chapter 1
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Rain sluiced down to the desert floor, warm and heavy, soaking B.J.'s T-shirt in under ten seconds. She didn't care. A good summer downpour brought her almost as much satisfaction as a good orgasm. These days a downpour seemed a more likely source of satisfaction.
Unfortunately her horse, Hot Stuff, wasn't big on getting drenched. Some trauma from his childhood, no doubt. B.J. had all she could do to keep the gelding from bucking her off. She knotted the reins in case he succeeded, so he wouldn't step on them and cause more problems. Even if she stayed on this horse, the ride back to the ranch promised to be rough.
The storm had blown in suddenly, catching her coming back from a neighborly good deed for a newcomer to the area. Sarah was a sculptor, and she'd rented a little house about five miles away. She'd asked B.J. to pick up her mail and water her plants for a week while she went to a gallery showing in New York.
Tightening her thigh muscles as Hot Stuff crow-hopped another ten yards, B.J. estimated the distance to the barn. Then she estimated the distance to a cozy cave where she and her sister had played as kids. The cave was closer.
She wrestled Hot Stuff's head around and pointed him in the direction of the cave. The rolling hills in this particular part of Southern Arizona were strewn with large granite outcroppings. Two particularly huge ones had sparked the name of the ranch – Twin Boulders. Many jokes had been made over the years about the phallic significance of those jutting pieces of stone.
As if to balance out the maleness of such a prominent formation, another cluster of rocks closer to the mountains contained a cave about the size of a three-person dome tent. Assuming the flashlight in her saddlebag revealed no snakes, she'd wait inside. Hot Stuff could cool his heels outside until he was ready to become civilized again and then they could mosey on home.
Soon the cave appeared in front of her, the boulders shellacked with rain. The deluge kept coming, running off her hat in a steady stream. Keeping a tight rein on Hot Stuff, she spoke soothingly to him and kept an eye on the tilt of his ears while she reached behind her to dig the flashlight out of the water-slicked saddlebag.
As her hand closed around the barrel of the flashlight, the wind gusted, throwing water in Hot Stuff's face. He laid his ears back and leaped into the air with such force that she lost her stirrups. Then he launched into another twisting maneuver creative enough to land her in the mud on her butt.
Still clutching the flashlight, she scrambled to her feet. Before she could grab the reins, Hot Stuff took off in the direction of the ranch.
B.J. sighed, more angry than alarmed. The horse should be okay. The reins were still looped over the saddle horn and he knew his way back. As long as no one noticed him coming in riderless, which might cause a panic, there would be no harm done except for the long walk ahead of her.
Fortunately her dad and Noah had driven into town to run some errands so they wouldn't be there to notice Hot Stuff had dumped her. That left Noah's brother Jonas, and she didn't think he'd be hanging around when her father and Noah weren't on hand to suggest he spend a rainy afternoon cleaning tack. Given the choice, Jonas much preferred whiling away the hours in the arms of whichever girlfriend was currently in favor.
As she debated whether to follow her horse home since she was already wet and muddy, the rain turned to hail that ricocheted off her hat and bit the exposed skin of her arms. She was willing to walk in the rain and the mud, but being pelted with hail was a whole other thing. Flashlight in hand, she turned toward the cave.
Passing the beam over the entrance, she took off her hat, stooped and went in. As a kid she hadn't had to stoop, and about the time she'd grown too tall to walk in without crouching, she'd decided to abandon the cave. Yet for years it had been the perfect hideout.
She and her sister Keely had spent hours in here planning battle strategies against Noah and Jonas. For some reason the girls had been allowed to keep the cave to themselves, probably because the boys had built a tree house they thought was more strategic and far more cool because they could pull up the rope ladder and be isolated.
Funny how the dank smell of the cave instantly brought back those days. She ran the flashlight beam over the dirt floor and the smooth rock ledge that had served as table, chair or bed, depending on what adventure she and Keely had been cooking up at the time. Except for some leaves that had blown in, the cave was empty and dry.
Brushing the leaves off the rock ledge, she sat down. Then she hung her hat on an outcropping they'd once used to suspend an electric lantern. But she wasn't drawing treasure maps or decoding messages today, so she didn't need to see. She switched off the flashlight.
Outside the hail continued to fall, bouncing up from the ground like popcorn. She leaned back against the cave wall and watched. Despite her wet clothes, she felt snug and protected, the way she always had inside this place.
But all the memories swirling around in her head made her miss Keely terribly. She'd never known their mother, who'd died when B.J. was born, so her older sister had been doubly important to her. In the beginning they'd had an ideal childhood. Their dad, Arch Branscom, was the head wrangler for Twin Boulders, owned originally by George Garfield, a widower and father of Noah and Jonas.
The four kids had grown up almost like brothers and sisters. But then Keely had hit puberty with a vengeance and nobody on the ranch had seemed to know what to do about that. Keely's rebellion had escalated until she'd posed nude for the centerfold of Macho magazine at the age of nineteen. After a huge fight with Arch, she'd left and had never come back.
That had been ten years ago. Most of the time B.J. tried not to think about her sister, but in this musty cave, she couldn't help it. Nothing had turned out the way she'd dreamed it would as a kid. She'd imagined Keely would marry Noah and she would marry Jonas.
Now Keely was who-knew-where, and Noah seemed too busy for romance now that his father had died and he was responsible for the ranch. As for Jonas, he more than made up for Noah's lack of interest in female companionship. Jonas had turned into the Romeo of Saguaro Junction. He seemed to have the hots for every eligible woman in the county, with the exception of B.J.
She could only think of two possible reasons for that. Number one, he considered both her and Keely as sisters, so they were off-limits. Number two, he'd never seen her in anything other than dusty jeans, never watched her do anything but ride and rope like a good ranch hand was supposed to. That hardly contributed to her sex appeal. Even her nickname, B.J., made her sound like one of the guys. No doubt Jonas had forgotten it stood for Belinda June.
A few times she'd thought of putting on something sexy to see if she could change his perception of her, but she never had. For one thing, she didn't want to risk the humiliation if he failed to react. For another, she couldn't bear to be nothing more than one of his many conquests. If she couldn't get rid of her secret yearning for him, at least she had a dose of pride to go with it.
The hail had let up some, but the rain seemed even heavier. B.J. decided to wait it out. Just for something to do, she pulled her long braid over her shoulder, took off the elastic holding the end and unbraided her hair. Ah, that felt better. She massaged her scalp and finger-combed her long hair, made wavy by the braid. And that was another thing – Jonas hadn't seen her with her hair down in years.
The sound of hoofbeats from outside the cave surprised her. Surely Hot Stuff hadn't circled back. Trigger he definitely wasn't
"Easy, son, easy. Sonofabitch. It's really coming down."
Jonas. That was sort of weird, considering she'd just been thinking about him. She started to call out and warn him that she was in here. With no horse outside, he wouldn't expect to find her waiting for him and it might scare the stuffing out of him.
Then she closed her mouth again. Maybe it was her rekindled memories of all the pranks the boys had pulled, and all the times she and her sister had plotted revenge, or maybe it was her general dissatisfaction with Jonas's lifestyle these days, but she had the childish urge to make him yelp in fear.
She heard him sloshing through the mud toward the cave, and her heart beat faster. This would be fun. Of course, if he had a flashlight, then he'd see her right away, but he still might yell when the beam hit her. Maybe she'd make a face at him, to unnerve him even more.
As he approached, he uttered a colorful curse. "Dead batteries. Perfect. I have a choice of getting drowned or snakebit. Okay, snakes, look out! I'm coming in!"
While B.J. held her breath, he took off his hat and ducked into the cave. Then he paused, as if listening for a telltale rattle. "So far, so good," he muttered.
She stayed very still.
"All right, snakes! If you're here, make yourself known!" He crept slowly over to the ledge where she sat.
With the light from the cave's entrance at his back, she could make out his movements, but obviously he couldn't see her.
He reached toward the ledge and his hand closed over her thigh. "Jesus!" He leaped backward, bumping his head on the top of the cave. "Who's there?"
She clapped a hand over her mouth to hold back her laughter, because in that split second she decided not to tell him who she was. Maybe he wouldn't guess right away, and she could pretend to be meeting him for the first time. It could be interesting. "My … my name's … Sarah," she said in a voice made husky by the laughter she'd swallowed.
He crouched, rubbing his head. "Well, you scared the hell out of me, Sarah."
Amazing. He hadn't recognized her voice. She'd need to keep it lowered when she talked, though, or he'd know it was her. "Sorry," she said.
"How come you didn't say anything when I started in?"
"You scared me, too." She discovered it wasn't as hard to disguise her voice as she'd expected. "When I get scared my throat closes up."
"Oh. Well, I'm sorry, then. I guess you came in to get out of the rain, too, huh?"
"Yes." She breathed in the scent of damp male and the spicy aftershave that was Jonas's trademark. This was more exciting than she'd imagined it would be, sort of like a masquerade ball. The cave was growing darker, she noticed, as the afternoon light grew weaker. That would keep him guessing for a little longer, anyway.
"Are you from around here?" he asked. "I don't think I know anybody named Sarah."
Good. He hadn't met Sarah yet. "I just moved in."
"That explains it. Come to think of it, I did hear about a woman who was renting the old Hawthorne place. An artist."
"That would be me. I sculpt." B.J. decided she might as well milk this for all it was worth. Then she'd confess the charade to Sarah when she came back. From what B.J. knew of Sarah, she'd probably get a kick out of the whole thing.
"Really? I don't think I've ever known a sculptor. So you carve statues and stuff?"
B.J. thought of Sarah's work created from discarded pieces of machinery. Fascinating, but not particularly sexy. "I love the human body," she said, "so I sculpt mostly nudes." She swallowed another bubble of laughter. Nude statues. That should flick his Bic.
"Really? Men or women?"
"Both, but I'm especially fond of the male physique. I'd have to say that's my favorite subject."
"Now that's interesting." He sounded plenty interested, too. His voice had become a little rougher, a little deeper.
A thrill of awareness shot through her. He'd never spoken to her in that tone of voice. No wonder women flocked to him. That voice was a killer.
She realized he couldn't be particularly comfortable standing hunched over like that, and the polite thing would be to suggest he share the ledge with her. If he'd known who she was, that would have been no big deal. But he thought she was someone else, a new and potentially uninhibited person who sculpted nudes, mostly male nudes. She wondered what he'd do in close proximity to such a woman.
Only one way to find out. She slid over toward the wall and quietly put her flashlight on the ground at her feet. "If you'd like to sit down, there's room for two on this ledge," she said.
"Thank you. I'd appreciate that." He started toward her.
Her skin flushed and her heart beat so fast she was afraid he night sense her agitation. She almost lost her nerve and told him who she was. Then she thought of her sister Keely. In this same situation, Keely would play this situation to the hilt.
"Sure is dark in here," he said. "I can barely see you."
"I'm right here." She took a deep breath for courage and reached out for him. "Give me your hand. I'll guide you over."
In the dim light his hand found hers. Contact. And what contact. She tried to imagine why it felt so different, so electric.
She'd certainly touched Jonas before. As kids they'd thought nothing of grabbing each other in the course of a game or a fight. As adults they occasionally had to touch as part of working together on the ranch, but it had always been efficient and impersonal.
Yet here in the cave, when he thought she was an exotic stranger, his skin seemed warmer, his grasp tighter. This must be how he touched women he was attracted to.
"Come a little closer." She drew him toward the ledge. "Okay, now turn around and sit."
He followed her instructions, settling next to her, his thigh against hers, his shoulder brushing hers. Damn, but he smelled sexy. What's more, he hadn't let go of her hand.
"There's not a not of extra room," he said.
Sitting this close to Jonas and pretending to be someone else was really turning her on. Things she'd never have said otherwise came easily to her. "I don't mind the tight fit if you don't." She gave his hand a gentle, encouraging squeeze.
"You won't hear me complaining." He squeezed back. "Your fingers feel good," he said, rubbing his thumb across hers in a subtle caress. "Soft, yet strong."
Her breath caught. He was coming on to her. Maybe once he'd decided she was a stranger, he'd stopped looking for clues that would have told him she was his old pal B.J.
Obviously she could do almost anything she wanted and he wouldn't guess now. So she needed to decide how far to take this little charade. Truth or dare? Dare. "My hands are strong from molding the clay," she said. "I love how it feels when I work it, so moist … so … pliable. I find the process very stimulating."
"I'll bet you do." He cradled her hand in both of his and began a gentle massage. "I'd love to watch you work with that clay sometime."
"Oh, I don't think so. I need my space when I create." The devil had got hold of her tongue. "And in this heat, I've been known to work without any clothes on."
"You shouldn't have told me that," he murmured, bringing her hand to his lips. "Now I really want to watch you work. Watch you get … stimulated." He brushed her knuckles with a gentle kiss.
She nearly passed out from the pleasure of it. Years ago, she used to imagine scenes like this with Jonas, and then she'd given up all hope that they'd ever get past their brother/sister relationship. Yet here he was, pressing his mouth to the back of her hand. Of course, he thought it was the hand of a sculptor named Sarah, a woman who molded clay into nudes while she waltzed around her studio in her birthday suit feeling sexy.
"Maybe I could make an exception and let you watch," she said. "Although I have a feeling you would distract me."
"I'd be very quiet." He opened her palm and circled his tongue there.
She tried to steady her breathing. A woman of the world wouldn't fall apart because a man was kissing her hand. "What's … what's your name?" she asked.
"Jonas." His breath whispered over the inside of her wrist. "You smell l
ike rain," he said, just before he placed his warm mouth against her pulse.
"Jonas." She murmured his name, rolling it over her tongue as if she'd never heard it before, as if she'd never yelled it across the yard or muttered it under her breath in total frustration. "Do you believe in Fate, Jonas?"
"Maybe." He cupped her elbow and lazily made his way from her wrist to the inside of her elbow. "Do you?"
"Maybe." Her heart thundered in her ears. Surely the more he touched her, the better his chance of figuring out who was in this cave with him. But until he did figure it out, she might as well enjoy the fantasy. Chances like this didn't come along every day.
"I sure never expected to find someone like you here today." He caressed the tender inside of her elbow with slow strokes of his finger.
"Someone like me?" The breathy laugh didn't sound like her. It sounded like a daring woman who created nudes for a living. "You know almost nothing about me."
"I know more than you think." He shifted his weight, bending one knee so he could turn toward her on the ledge. "I know you're very creative. I know you spend your days exploring the wonders of the human body, and as a sculptor, you'd have to be very sensitive."
"I am."
"I knew it. I could tell from the way you shivered when I kissed the inside of your arm." His hand brushed her cheek in a seeking gesture. Then he caressed the line of her jaw. "And while it's true I can't see you very well, all my other senses are wide-awake. I know you have smooth, soft skin, that you smell like rain, that your voice is low and makes me think of sex."
She swallowed and tried to keep her voice steady. "Really?" He definitely didn't know who she was. Jonas had never, ever thought of sex when she was around.
"You shouldn't be surprised." He brought his other hand up and combed it through her hair. "You're obviously a very sensual woman, a woman who likes to let her hair down. You have beautiful hair. What color is it?"
She thought quickly. No use giving him any clues by telling him the right hair color. Once he started thinking of her as a blonde, he might put two and two together. "Chocolate-brown," she said.
MYSTERY LOVER Page 1
