She was quivering, her eyes wild. "I never meant for you to know."
A cold fist gripped his heart. "Never?"
She shook her head.
"And why would that be?" he asked quietly.
At first it seemed she wouldn't answer him. Then she lifted her chi and met his gaze. "I would think that would be obvious."
As he lay there staring at her, his heart aching as it never had in his life, only one thing was obvious to him. She didn't want him for anything more than an anonymous roll in the hay. Maybe she'd been curious after all the talk and wanted a chance to find out how good he was in bed. But beyond that, he wasn't what she was looking for.
"Give me my clothes," he said. "I'm going home."
* * *
B.J. threw her suede outfit in the Dumpster on the way home. She thought about not going home at all, of driving instead to Los Angeles and trying to locate her sister Keely. But she couldn't do that to her father. He'd mourned the loss of contact with Keely so much. If B.J. left, he'd have no family at all.
But she couldn't imagine how she'd be able to work on the ranch after this. Technically Jonas was her boss, although she seldom thought about that considering the way they all worked together like equals. Or had. That easy camaraderie was over now.
What a fool she'd been to think that she could keep her identity a secret. He'd probably gone to town that morning and asked a few questions about the woman renting the Hawthorne place. Saguaro Junction was a small place. Information wasn't hard to come by.
So now she was exactly what she'd never wanted to be – another one of Jonas's conquests. No point in thinking otherwise. If he'd meant to turn this thing around, to take the relationship seriously, he would have told her the minute he showed up tonight. He would have whipped off the blindfold right away.
Instead he'd let her continue the game and probably would have let her go on indefinitely. Except, in the aftermath of lovemaking, he'd forgotten to call her Sarah. She should probably be grateful for his slipup. Otherwise she might have been tempted to let him come back the following night.
She automatically looked for Jonas's shiny black truck when she drove toward the ranch house on her way to her father's little bungalow. The truck wasn't there.
A chill went down her spine as she pictured him downing beers at the Roundup Saloon. Would he tell anyone what had happened? If he did, if even one word of this got around town, she'd have to leave, no matter how much it hurt her father. In fact, her father might prefer that she left.
She had to hope Jonas wasn't blabbing everything to his buddies at the bar tonight. He probably wasn't. Rumors flew about Jonas's exploits, but B.J. had never known Jonas to say anything about the women he was involved with.
Still, it wouldn't hurt to get his word that he wouldn't reveal their secret, ever. Once Jonas promised something like that, he wouldn't break his promise. She'd grown up knowing that about both the Garfield brothers. Teasing and playing pranks had been part of everyday life, but when it came to serious things like keeping a confidence, both Jonas and Noah were men of their word.
She let herself into the darkened house where all was silent except the ticking of the grandfather clock and the snoring coming from her father's bedroom. Going into her own room, she undressed and crawled into bed. If only she could think of some excuse to go away.
There was Sarah's mail to be considered if she left, but Arch would be willing to take care of that for the last three days if B.J. told him she desperately needed a break. Even a short getaway would help put some distance between tonight and a future of working side by side with Jonas.
Although many women expected to marry and move away from home, B.J. had always assumed she'd live on this ranch forever. She'd figured that if she married, her husband would live and work here, too. She loved everything about Twin Boulders – riding the gentle hills, working with the animals, even driving the balky old tractor.
Well, she'd certainly mucked up her happy little existence with this stunt. And tomorrow she'd have to face Jonas.
* * *
Jonas awoke with the worst hangover he'd had in years, a condition made even more painful by someone pounding on the roof over his head. No doubt his brother was trying to kill two birds with one stone – fixing some loose shingles while the sun was shining and getting Jonas's sorry ass out of bed.
He glanced at the clock. Nearly ten. Unfortunately the Round-up didn't open until noon or he'd be off to drown his sorrows all over again. Yet he knew he couldn't stay drunk because Noah needed his help on the ranch. Eventually he'd have to figure out how to handle this disaster.
Maybe Noah could spare him for a few days, though, so he could get away and figure out how in hell he'd be able to stay on this ranch and work side by side with B.J. And that's what he'd have to do, because he couldn't imagine living anywhere else, and he couldn't very well kick her off the premises.
Oh, technically he might be able to fire her, especially if he told Noah what she'd done. But of course, he wouldn't tell Noah. He wouldn't tell anyone. Besides, if he fired B.J., then Arch would leave with her, and that would make an even bigger mess.
He couldn't believe she'd done this to him. Sure, when they were kids he'd put a baby gopher snake in her bed once, and he'd booby-trapped her lunch box a few times, and then there was the crank call where he'd pretended to be that guy from Dirty Dancing, Patrick Swayze, singing "I Had the Time of My Life."
But she'd pulled her share on him, too. She'd dumped red food coloring in the washing machine, staining all his white briefs pink, and she'd lined up beer bottles on his bedroom windowsill so his dad had thought he'd been in his room drinking like a fish. Then she'd stolen the centerfold out of one of his magazines and made him buy it back with three sacks of Gummy Bears.
He'd thought they were about even. But they were far from even now, and he had no clue how to settle the score, other than tattling on her. And he wasn't about to do that.
The fact was, he hurt. He hurt really bad. At some point during last night's escapade he'd realized that he was in love with B.J., probably always had been. He figured it out when he discovered she was wearing the red suede vest and chaps from that televised riding gig she'd done a few years back.
He remembered that riding demonstration perfectly – how proud she'd been of the show, how excited about the beautiful outfit she'd bought. And she'd looked fantastic in that arena. He might have asked her out after seeing that production if he hadn't still been hung up on the sister-brother relationship they'd always had.
She'd blown that illusion all to hell in the cave. Once he'd learned that she'd sacrificed her beautiful suede outfit to give him a sexual thrill, he'd decided that the two of them had something pretty special going on. He'd let himself name the emotion that filled his heart whenever he thought of B.J.
Then she'd squashed all hope that his tender feelings would ever be returned when she confessed she'd never planned to tell him who she was. The reason should be obvious, she'd said. God, how that hurt.
He had to ask Noah for a few days off, so he could slap some mental bandages over his gaping wounds. Noah had been wanting someone to drive up to Payson and look at a stud they were considering breeding to Imelda next year. A trip like that could be good for three days if he worked it right. Dragging himself out of bed, he took his pounding head and broken heart into the shower.
* * *
By midmorning B.J. hadn't seen hide-nor-hair of Jonas, which was fine with her. She'd also come up with a reason to leave the ranch for a few days, so she sought out Noah, who was taking advantage of the sunshine to fix some broken shingles on the main house.
Climbing the ladder, she called over to him.
He paused and glanced at her, tilting his hat to the back of his head. "What's up?"
"You know how you've been saying someone should take a look at that stud in Payson?"
"Yeah."
"If you think you can spare me for two or three days, I
thought I'd drive up there and check him out. I can take some pictures and get an idea of his temperament."
Noah grinned. "Great minds must think alike. Jonas suggested going up there not ten minutes ago. You two wanna flip for it?"
At his casual mention of Jonas's plans, B.J.'s stomach clenched. If she had this kind of reaction when someone happened to say his name, she was in big trouble. But she'd known that.
She cleared her throat. "If Jonas is planning on going, that's fine. I don't have to go." It didn't really matter which one of them took off, so long as they didn't have to see each other for a while. "When's he leaving?"
"Pretty soon, I think. Listen, B.J., you've been working harder than Jonas. It's a hell of a lot cooler up in the pine country, so if you want a break I'll tell him to stay home."
"No!" That was the last thing she wanted. But she needed to talk to him before he left to make sure he wouldn't reveal their secret. "I wouldn't mind having him bring back some pine cones, though, so I can make wreaths again this Christmas. I'll go ask him about it."
"I imagine he's in the house throwing some clothes into a suitcase."
"Thanks. I'll go check." She was shaking so badly she nearly fell off the ladder as she climbed back down. She paused at the bottom and took several deep breaths. All she needed to ask was that he not tell anyone. Then she could leave. No big discussion required. Just her request and his answer. That was it. She could do this.
As usual, she went in the kitchen door. On her way through she gave a smile and a cheery greeting to Lupita, who was making tortillas. "I need to talk to Jonas," she said by way of explanation. She hoped Lupita hadn't noticed the tremor in her voice.
"He's down the hall, packing to leave," Lupita said. "Wish we could all go up to the mountains."
"Yeah, it would be nice." B.J. started for the hallway before she lost her nerve. "Jonas!" she called on her way to his bedroom. "I need to ask you something."
He appeared in the doorway of his bedroom, his dark eyes heavy-lidded, his expression grim. "What?"
She couldn't understand why he had to look so sexy right at this moment, or why her throat had to close up when she'd been perfectly capable of speech when she'd passed through the kitchen.
"What do you want, B.J.?" he asked quietly, his gaze neutral.
She would have thought he was calm, except that his knuckles were white where he was gripping the doorjamb. Her one-sentence speech left her mind. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
He shrugged. "Easy come, easy go."
She struggled to remember what she'd come to say. "I wanted to ask that you … not say anything. To anybody."
Neutrality slipped away and anger flared in his brown eyes. His response was thick with fury. "How could you even think I would?"
She stepped back a pace. "I didn't. Not really. I just wanted to make sure, because—"
"Because you don't want anyone to know you stooped so low?"
She gasped. "I would never think that."
He glanced down the hall toward the kitchen and lowered his voice. "Seems like it to me. You were never planning to tell me, or anyone. I figure that's because you're ashamed of having had sex with me."
Having had sex. "You make it sound so cold."
"Wasn't it? Two strangers in the night seems pretty cold to me."
She clenched her hands in front of her. "It wasn't like that."
"Then tell me what it was like."
Her heart beat like crazy. He was pinning her to the wall, and she didn't know how to get away. "Don't make me humiliate myself even more."
His lips thinned. "Just as I thought. You're humiliated that you let yourself get so carried away. You're better than that, right? You're not like me, a real sex maniac. Sure, you had your fling, but now you're going to put it behind you."
As she gazed at him, his tone of voice finally penetrated her anguish. He sounded angry, sure, but underneath that anger was something else, something more vulnerable. He was hurt. She looked past him to the duffle open on his bed, clothes hanging out of it as if he'd stuffed them inside without caring what he took.
He was trying to get away. Slowly she went back over their heated exchange from the night before. She'd told him she'd never meant for him to know she was his mystery lover. Apparently he'd interpreted that to mean that she was ashamed of their time together.
She could let him continue to think that and save her pride, or she could admit her feelings and take away his pain. In the end, it was no contest. She loved him, and she didn't want him to hurt.
"Jonas, I wasn't going to tell you because I didn't want to be another one of your discarded girlfriends."
He stared at her for a long time, a muscle working in his jaw. "Is that how you think of me?" he said at last. "An insensitive guy who loves 'em and leaves 'em?"
"You have to admit there have been quite a few—"
"Did it ever occur to you that I was extremely choosy, and although I kept trying, I could never find exactly the right woman for me?"
"Well, yeah."
"And let me assure you, I agonize over the breakups each and every time."
"Maybe you do, but you still manage to break up with them. And I didn't want to be part of that scene."
He paused and his gaze flicked over her. "Who says you would be?"
"Are you kidding? Look at me. I'm a cowgirl, just like the ones you said never could hold your interest. There's nothing unusual about me." She noticed his expression change as a smile tugged at his mouth.
"Well, there isn't! I'm good old B.J., who can fix the thermostat on the tractor—"
"Yeah, and you sure fixed mine."
"Jonas, pay attention. I'm trying to tell you that while I may be able to throw a decent rope—"
"You tie a mean velvet rope, too."
"—and ride a cutting horse without falling off—"
"You can ride me anytime, sweetheart."
"Listen, don't get me confused with that woman at Sarah's house, because I'm not that woman."
His eyebrows lifted. "You're not?"
"No."
"I could have sworn you were. Come here and let me get a better look." He took her arm and pulled her inside his bedroom.
"Wait a minute. You have the wrong idea."
"You don't even know what my idea is yet." He closed his bedroom door and twisted the lock.
Her pulse raced at the look in his eyes. "Listen, Jonas, this isn't the time or the place. In fact, we should probably get that straight. What happened between us can't happen again."
"Oh?" He walked her backward toward the bed. "Why not?"
"I've told you. I won't be toyed with." The backs of her knees came in contact with the edge of the bed.
"Damn. That's exactly what I had in mind."
"See, now that you know I'm not ashamed of what happened between us, you think you can make it go on some more, but it won't, because – oh!" She lost her balance and fell across the bed.
He followed her down. "Yes, it will." He slid his body over hers. "It'll go on constantly. It might go on right now."
"Jonas, no." She had to protect herself, even though her body was warming up beneath his. In salvaging his feelings, she had set the stage for sacrificing hers.
He looked into her eyes, and his tone was gentle. "I guess you're going to be one of those women who holds out for a wedding ring."
"I suppose you think that's funny, considering what we did together." Her breathing quickened. God, how she wanted him, but she had to be strong. "Yes, I've decided the next time I get involved with a man, that's what I want. A ring, marriage, kids, the whole works."
"I can handle that."
She figured he still didn't understand. He wanted to continue the fun and games until that potential husband came along. "The thing is, until then, I'm not having any more flings, no matter how much fun I had this time."
"No more flings? That would be a crying shame, Belinda June. That feather-duster routine needs an encore,
and I'll bet you have more of that flavored oil, too."
She wasn't going to make love to him again, but knowing he remembered her whole name made her feel all mushy inside. Okay, so she was also getting hot, and wet, and achy. Once she escaped from this bedroom those feelings would ease up a bit.
"Have a fling with me, Belinda," he murmured. "It'll pass the time until the wedding."
"What wedding? I'm not even dating anybody."
"Our wedding."
She lay very still, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. Surely she hadn't heard him right.
He brushed his forefinger over her mouth. "I can see from the total disbelief in your expression that you're either horrified by my proposal or you don't believe me."
"I don't believe you."
"But if you did believe me, you'd accept?"
"If I did believe you, I would, but I don't, so I can't."
He chuckled softly. "Let's see if I can say the right things to convince you." He cupped her face in both hands and gazed at her earnestly. "I feel like an idiot, because if you hadn't seduced me in that cave, we might still be stumbling around this ranch, so close and yet so far from each other. I'll always be grateful to that rainstorm for showing me what's been right in front of me. I guess I had to be blindfolded to really see you for the first time." He rubbed his thumbs caressingly over her cheekbones. "Oh, and by the way, I've decided I love the Hawthorne place. Maybe we'll buy it and live there."
Oh, God. He was serious. He was proposing. Little white specks flashed in front of her eyes. "You have to let me up," she said, gasping. "I think I'm going to faint."
Immediately he rolled off of her. Then he sat her up and pushed her head down between her knees. "Deep breaths. That's it. Deep breaths. Better now?"
Gradually her head stopped spinning, but she still couldn't seem to breathe normally. She looked at him, sure he'd vanish in a puff of smoke.
"You still don't believe me, do you?" he said, concern etched on his face. "Honey, what I'm trying to say is, I love you!"
The room began to spin again and she ducked her head between her knees while he rubbed her back.
MYSTERY LOVER Page 8
