by Laura Moore
“Everything will be fine. You were great with Carrie and Brian. I’m sure you’ll figure out how to give them a terrific wedding celebration. Erica is not a factor.”
The look she gave him was patently skeptical. He waited, expecting her to rise from her chair and leave his office, and was puzzled when she remained sitting. She’d never lingered in his presence before. He frowned at the perversity of women. Frankly he was tired of dealing with the opposite sex, and that included the ones he’d been involved with as well as the ones that, in his saner moments, he was trying to keep his distance from. He wanted to go check on the sheep and then go home and down a couple of ice-cold beers.
Then he caught her slight movement and finally understood. Naturally she was trying to hide it, wriggling in her chair as surreptitiously as she could. Slowly he let his gaze travel down the length of her jean-clad legs, past the bend at her knees, to follow the sharp angle where her feet were tucked under her seat and moving busily. Cocking his head, he grinned.
One of those feet was bare.
On impulse he dropped to one knee. Ignoring her squawk of surprise, he reached under the seat and located a leather pump hiding just beyond the chair’s rear legs. For a moment he lingered, enjoying the fact that his head was maybe eight inches from her lap. Enjoying, too, that she was equally aware of his proximity to a very special place.
Easing his weight back slowly, he held up the shoe and regarded it. Damn, he thought. That was a hell of a heel. Arousal coursed a fiery path through his bloodstream.
He lifted his gaze. A very gratifying blush had stolen over her olive complexion. It was a stunning combination.
“I lost it. The shoe, I mean.” Her voice held a breathless awareness.
What had he been thinking? This was way better than a cold beer.
He smiled. “Indeed.”
“Can I have it back?” She held out her hand imperiously. The effect, however, was spoiled by the fine trembling that seized it.
“Certainly.” His free hand slipped beneath the chair and snagged a delicate ankle. He tugged a resisting limb up and toward him. It was no contest. He’d had a lifetime experience wrestling cattle and sheep. One feisty, squirming Italian beauty wasn’t going to deter him.
Holding her delicate foot in the cradle of his hand, he studied it gravely. Of course she wore nail polish the color of a full-bodied wine. Of course she had a fine, high instep that made him want to open his mouth and draw his teeth along the arch, made him wonder whether he could make her moan and her body tremble with the same desire that was spiking his blood. Damned if he wasn’t tempted to bring said foot and the body attached to it tumbling into his arms with one good tug.
Because one good tug on that navy bow-tied ribbon would be all it would take to loosen the front of her peasant blouse. He wanted to see if her lush breasts tasted as sweet as he’d imagined.
He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but his body grew even harder. And though he was fairly certain that if he applied himself, he could have a very gratifying moan tumbling from Tess’s lips, he realized that, however tempting it was, this was not a good idea.
Carefully he brought the shoe to her purple-tipped toes and, raising his gaze to hers, slipped it carefully back on her foot. In a voice rough with suppressed need he said, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Tess.”
Standing, he forced himself to walk toward the door, away from temptation. But he couldn’t resist a backward glance. Yup, she looked amazing. Most of all he liked the stunned look on her face, as if his touch had rocked her world just as thoroughly as she’d rocked his. “You know, cowboy boots are a hell of a lot more comfortable. You might consider a pair.”
If only for his own peace of mind, he added silently as he left the office, because he wasn’t sure he could take much more of the infinitely tempting Tess Casari in her sexy-as-hell shoes.
DAMN, DAMN, DAMN. The refrain had become a constant loop in Tess’s head that she couldn’t block for the simple reason that she couldn’t stop thinking about Ward. That moment in his office when he’d held her foot in his calloused hand had packed a sensual wallop the size of Mount Everest, causing everything inside her first to seize tight and then to quiver as a fierce, reckless want consumed her.
All he’d done was hold her foot and now she couldn’t stop fantasizing about the other places on her body she wanted his hands.
Worst of all, however, was the painful longing that had pierced her heart when he knelt before her and carefully guided her foot into her shoe as he wished her a happy Valentine’s Day. It was ridiculous, she knew, but Ward, with that one casual, throwaway gesture, had made her feel like Cinderella when the prince placed the glass slipper on her foot.
It didn’t seem to matter how many lectures she gave herself about no longer believing in fairy tales and not wanting to have anything to do with handsome princes. In that moment Ward had managed to resurrect the secret, silly, romantic longing she’d believed she’d vanquished: that one day she might be a princess in someone’s eyes—loved, prized, and cherished.
After the debacle of her short-lived marriage, she’d been sure all that mushy sentimentality was a thing of the painful past. Ward’s gesture made her realize just how susceptible she still was to those foolish hopes and desires.
She hated feeling vulnerable and off-kilter, with no one to confide in. As fond as she was growing of the Knowleses and her coworkers at the guest lodge—since she avoided going near the barns, she didn’t really know any of the ranch hands—she could hardly discuss Ward with them, could she?
Besides, of all the Knowleses, she was closest to Adele. She couldn’t talk to the man’s mother about the devastating effect he had on her. Indeed, she couldn’t mention Ward at all, not even to rag about his role in her car’s demise anymore, if Ward was right about Adele indulging in a little matchmaking—a notion as crazy as any Tess had heard.
Ward was not the kind of man who needed any help in attracting a female.
Having no one nearby to confide in made her miss New York even more than usual. The haven of Anna’s apartment, where she and Anna would curl up on the sofa and talk for hours, seemed farther away than ever. And with the time difference, scheduling their chats was tricky. They either had to talk at an ungodly predawn hour for Tess, or super late at night when Anna finished working at La Dolce Vita.
But with Anna she could get the whole Ward situation off her chest and thus hopefully succeed in getting him out of her mind. She only wished that when Anna gave one of her outrageous responses, she could reach across the sofa cushion and poke her in the ribs in rebuke.
Which was precisely what she would have liked to do when Tess phoned Anna the following evening. First she brought Anna up to speed on how Adele had suggested she take over for Macie and that she plan Brian and Carrie’s wedding with Ward’s help. Then she told her about the FaceTime meeting and how it turned out that Ward had been engaged to Carrie’s stepsister. She finished with her account of the shoe incident.
Anna had crowed with delight at the news that Tess was being given the chance to be Silver Creek’s events planner and reacted with the same shock Tess had felt when she heard about Erica. But it was the shoe business she zoomed in on like a heat-seeking missile.
“Oh my God, Tess! I love that Ward got your juices flowing just by holding your foot. You know, I read this article about how erotic an experience it can be when a man makes love to your feet.”
“He wasn’t making love to my feet. He was just putting on my shoe!”
“Well, he was putting it on expertly, wasn’t he? And just think how good it would have been if he had decided to nibble on your toes and lick your arches.”
With a groan Tess dropped her head back against the pillows of her bed. But instead of the ceiling’s wood panels, there, projected in high-def, she saw an image of Ward holding her naked foot in his strong hands. His chiseled features stern with intent, he drew her foot toward his lips. She tried to resist, but it was,
of course, futile. As his mouth closed about her big toe, Tess was enveloped by fiery heat. Lavalike, it flowed through her as he sucked her sensitive flesh and then raked his strong white teeth over it.
She groaned again. “You are so evil.”
Anna laughed. “I know. It’s why you love me. But seriously, Tess, this is great. After the hell David put you through, making you feel like you were a failure on every level, you need a guy in your life who’ll help you get your groove back. Why not Ward Knowles? He sounds like a good candidate. Remember that saying about if the shoe fits—”
“Not funny. Have you forgotten that his family owns a decent chunk of Northern California? A little out of my league—and I’ve already learned how well that works.”
“But that’s what makes Ward perfect. He isn’t pretending to like you—he’s just a guy who wants to play with those cute little toesies of yours and maybe a couple of other body parts as well.”
“If your mother could hear the things you say—”
“She’d be at Mass every day and twice on Saturday. I know. Speaking of which, Mom saw yours yesterday after service let out. Yours was on her way to visit Chris and was bringing the flowers you sent. Mom said she looked pretty good. Less hollow eyed.”
Tess hoped her mother’s improved demeanor was because she no longer had to worry so much about whether she and her dad would be able to continue with Christopher’s care. It would be nice to know she’d helped with that. There was so little they had ever let her do.
“That’s good. It makes me feel a little less guilty for not being there to visit Chris with her.”
“Which is ridiculous. You have to live your life, Tess. Your mom’s great, and her devotion is remarkable, but the path she’s chosen isn’t one many would or could take. And though she may not say it, I don’t honestly think she’d want you to make that sacrifice.”
It was a conversation they’d had before. In her heart, Tess knew Anna was right, but that didn’t make it easier to push aside the ever-present guilt that accompanied thoughts of her family.
“I miss you, Anna.”
“Ah, sweetie, I miss you, too. But this is good. You’re being challenged in all sorts of ways. I think it’s high time you acknowledge that I was super brilliant in insisting you go to Acacia.”
Tess snorted. “The jury’s still out on that one, oh wise one. Tell you what, I’ll send you some of Roo’s organic jasmine tea so you can start reading leaves, too.”
“You’ll thank me one of these days, Casari. Tell Adele I’ll hunt for one of those necklaces in a deep blue. It’s nice to know someone appreciates me in California.”
“Email me your mom’s recipe for her crostata, and maybe I’ll decide to forgive you for sending me to a place where most of the inhabitants walk on four legs.”
“The critters are behind fences, right? Just stick to your side and all will be good.”
“If you were in my shoes, you wouldn’t be so sanguine. These aren’t critters. They’re beasts.”
“If I were in your shoes, I’d be concentrating real hard on a certain two-legged male beast. Ciao, cara.”
Tess was busy over the next couple of days helping Adele go through the rooms, public and private, looking for damages in the wake of Valentine’s Day weekend and shadowing Macie to get up to speed on how events were planned at the ranch. Once she was done with those tasks, she searched the Internet for hours, bookmarking images of wedding dresses, bouquets, floral arrangements, and wedding invitations. When her eyes grew tired, she’d wander into the kitchen and brainstorm with Jeff and Roo about what dishes they could propose to Brian and Carrie for the different meals during the weekend of the wedding.
She had no idea why Ward, who was supposed to offer assistance, had chosen to pull a disappearing act. She was fine with not seeing him. Really. It was just that it might have helped to get a good, 100 percent obnoxious dose of the Master of the Universe version of the man. It would combat the scorching visions running through her head of him doing wicked and wonderful things to her feet and all points north on her body.
Ward’s whereabouts remained a mystery until Reid happened to wander into her office. She was studying pictures of wedding dresses that might suit Carrie and had lined them up on the floor, her desk being too small a surface. After scouring the Internet she’d found twenty beautiful gowns that weren’t outrageously priced and that Carrie could buy in Boston or New York. She’d already done a first edit, whittling down the number to fifteen, but her goal was to cut at least five more before she sent Carrie the attachments. She already knew that too many choices would overwhelm the bride-to-be.
The rap on her open door had her glancing up from where she was kneeling in front of the row of pictures. She was surprised at how disappointed she was to see Reid rather than Ward.
“Oh, hi,” she said. She returned her attention to the pictures. Yes, that one could go, she decided, pulling it from the line. The dress was too severe and a bit too white for Carrie’s complexion.
“What have we got here?” Reid stepped over the line of pictures to stand beside her. “You picked some good ones.” He studied the dresses in silence for a moment, then squatted beside her and tapped his finger on the gown she’d placed in the center. “This is the one.”
Okay, he’d picked the gown she herself had decided would look best on Carrie. The full-length strapless gown was fashioned in antique white, a soft, flattering color. Constructed with an overlay of lace and organza decorated with crystal sprig appliqués, it was floaty and romantic and would enhance Carrie’s delicate beauty.
She looked at him accusingly. “You know, you are almost too perfect. You’re good-looking, charming, and you have decent fashion taste.” No way was she going to stroke Reid’s ego even more by admitting the truth: His taste was excellent. “Are you some kind of alien or super cyborg?”
He grinned. “Sorry to disappoint, but no. I just happen to like women and have devoted myself to the study of them. In their clothes and out of them.” He leaned close and dropped his voice to a confidential whisper. “If it makes you feel better, I have been known to leave the toilet seat up.”
“Thank God. Now I can sleep at night.”
He rose to his feet and held out a hand to help her up. They stood a moment, both looking at the pictures spread out on the floor. “Yeah,” he said with a nod. “That’s definitely the dress for Carrie, though I guess she would look pretty in a couple of the others, too.” He leaned down and tapped three photos with same confidence he’d shown earlier. “The trick will be to get her to pick that one, though. Get Ward on it. He has a way with her.”
She was beginning to suspect that Ward was as talented in getting his way with the opposite sex as Reid. She pushed the thought aside and culled four more photos of dresses that on closer inspection just didn’t seem right for Carrie. “Your brother doesn’t seem to be around.”
Reid’s normally carefree expression turned serious. “One of our ewes had difficulty lambing. Our foreman Pete was dosing a colicky horse with mineral oil and walking him in the corral so Ward dealt with the birthing. After Pete, Ward’s got the best hands on the ranch.”
Tess wasn’t surprised to hear that.
“It was a tricky delivery—the ewe had stopped pushing—but Ward managed to draw both lambs out of her with no harm to mother or babes,” Reid said.
“So sheep sometimes give up in the middle of labor?”
Reid nodded. “Yeah, when there’s a problem or the lamb is really big. It was probably for the best that this ewe did stop pushing, since the lambs were twisted around each other. But Ward got them straightened out. Then, just when we thought we were in the clear, animal-wise, Mitchell, one of our wranglers, found one of our cows. Dead. Dad and Mitchell took samples. Ward’s with them now, waiting for the vet to arrive. We hope he’ll be able to determine the cause of death and rule out any infectious diseases. A dead cow is not a good day for us. We sure as hell don’t want any more to
die.”
“No, I can’t imagine you would,” she said quietly. Though the Knowleses appeared to own a lot of cows and sheep, obviously having one of them die wasn’t good. It would be awful if whatever had killed the cow affected the others.
“Anyway I came by to see whether you’d like to join us. Ward, Phil, and I are meeting with a marketing firm. They’re pitching ideas about expanding our reach. Ward thought it might interest you since you’re taking over Macie’s responsibilities. Ward may be a bit late, depending on when the vet shows, but after the meeting you can tell him you’ve found a dress for Carrie.”
“I’d be happy to join you, but I’m not going to add to Ward’s workload by asking him to convince Carrie this is the dress for her. I can do that on my own.”
Reid nodded. “Go for it. He was really pleased by how well you and Carrie got along. Brian and Ward are best friends, so in Ward’s world that means it’s his job to make Carrie happy.”
“He seems pretty good at it.” Then, succumbing to curiosity, she asked, “So what’s the story with Brian and Carrie anyway? I would have thought they’d realize it’s kind of awkward for Ward to host their wedding after Carrie’s stepsister called off her and Ward’s wedding.”
“So you know about that.”
“The weird way everyone acted whenever Erica’s name was mentioned was kind of a giveaway,” she said drily. “Of course, it didn’t occur to me that she and Ward were once engaged.”
“Ward’s better off without her. Even Mom thinks so.”
Tess couldn’t hide her surprise. “If you all feel this way about her, that makes Brian and Carrie’s decision awkward not just for Ward but for your whole family.”
“We’re just pissed on Ward’s behalf. Seeing his heart get trampled by Erica wasn’t pretty. But you don’t have to worry about a thing. He won’t let what happened affect anything to do with Brian and Carrie. He’s too good and loyal a friend—to Brian especially—so if they want their wedding here with Erica as maid of honor, he’ll make it work for them.”
