by Joan Hohl
“So, what happened? That no-orgasm thing?”
Hannah felt her neck and face grow warm. This blushing was getting pretty damned annoying. Her expression must have revealed her feelings, because he grinned in a manner of sheer male hubris. She really couldn’t challenge him on it, for he certainly had cured that thing. Many times.
“Partly,” she admitted, on a sigh. “But that wasn’t the major issue.”
“What!” Justin exploded, jackknifing up to sit facing her. “Was he an idiot…or were you?” As before, often before, he didn’t allow her time to answer. “Not the major issue? If you believed you were in love, I would think it would be the most important issue.”
“Yes, I believe you would,” Hannah said, her tone patient, her silent sigh sad. “Justin, there are more things to a relationship than sex, at least if there’s any hope of the relationship lasting.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he brushed off her scold. “Compatibility, similar likes and all the rest of that jazz. But good sex is a very large component, and great sex even more so.”
Yes, indeedy, Hannah thought, without a trace of humor but with a large amount of disappointment. Justin Grainger definitely was sexually motivated.
She sighed again. “Turned out, we weren’t very compatible,” she explained. “He was altogether career oriented. He ate, drank and slept his career, and it got worse with every move he made up the corporate ladder. There was no time for fun, friends, long, deep conversations.”
“Or even the fun of longer, deeper, lovemaking,” Justin interjected.
Hannah chose to ignore his opinion, then doggedly continued. “Understand, I was recently out of college and devoted to the marketing business I was getting off the ground. But I was often able to leave my business concerns in the office when I locked up for the night.”
“And he couldn’t do that?”
“No.” She shook her head, at the same time wondering why she was bothering to explain all this to him when they obviously weren’t going to be seeing each other again after she returned to Philly and he went back to breed horses in Montana. But she soldiered on, “I didn’t simply quit, you know. I tried to make it work. I even learned to cook, a chore he knew I wasn’t exactly crazy about.”
He laughed.
She bristled. “Well, I never could understand why anyone would put so much time and effort into preparing an elaborate meal for someone to consume in fifteen minutes, leaving the cook to clean up afterward.”
Justin laughed harder. “I’m sorry. I’m not ridiculing you.”
Hannah glared at him. “Then what’s so damn funny?”
“The fact that you’ve put my own feelings about the culinary art so elegantly into words.” He had brought the laughter to a more acceptable grin. “If I want an elaborately concocted meal, complete with fine wine and candles on the table, I’ll go to a fine restaurant and let an expert prepare it.”
“My sentiments exactly,” Hannah concurred, grinning back at him, not for a minute realizing that they were in the midst of the kind of deep conversation she had just complained about being missing from her previous relationship. Maybe that was because she never considered she and Justin ever would be in any kind of relationship…other than the physical one they were briefly conducting.
“So, what do you say we consign whoever-he-was to the dull life he deserves and get on with our own pursuits?” His grin slid into an invitingly sexy smile.
“Which are?” she asked, suddenly aware of them sitting there, naked to the waist, and the thrill of expectation dancing along her exposed spine.
“The dreaded kitchen duty first.” The sexy smile reverted back to a grin. “Then a shower.” He hesitated. “And I think it’s time I stripped the bed and tossed these sheets into the washer.”
“Okay.” Though she readily agreed, Hannah was disappointed. Drat the man and his sensually teasing ways. “I’ll remake the bed.”
“You’re on.” Springing from the bed, he scooped up his crumpled jeans and put them on before reaching for the same sweater he’d worn the day before.
Quickly sliding from the bed, Hannah picked up the robe he had earlier flung aside, and slipped into it, belting it securely, while admiring the back he turned away to gather his clothes.
Justin Grainger was a magnificent specimen, his broad muscular back, his slender waist, the tightness of his butt, the long muscles of his thighs and calves. She sighed. Hell, she even thought he had handsome feet!
Pathetic, she chastised herself. Who the devil ever thought of a male’s feet as handsome?
She did, that’s who, and the realization was pretty damn scary. Hurrying out of the room, Hannah kept telling herself what she was feeling was simply a strong physical attraction, a very strong physical attraction. Nothing more.
Working smoothly together as they had the day before, Hannah and Justin had the kitchen clean in less than twenty minutes.
“Know what?” Justin said to her as she was rinsing out the dish cloth. “I’m hungry.”
Dropping the cloth into the sink, Hannah turned to him and pointed out the obvious. “We just finished clearing away the breakfast things.”
“Yeah, I know,” he agreed, favoring her with that blasted devil smile. “But have you looked at the clock?”
Naturally, Hannah shot a glance at the wall. The clock read 1:44. Unbelievable. She and Justin had finished breakfast somewhere around nine. For some weird reason, knowing the time made her aware of the hollow feeling inside her. She shifted her gaze back to him.
“You know what?” She pulled his trick of forging ahead without waiting for a response. “I’m hungry, too.”
He flashed his most sexy smile. “Good. Let’s grab some lunch.”
Within ten minutes, again working easily together, they sat down to a meal.
Where before they had cleaned up the kitchen in compatible silence, this time they chatted away about this and that, nothing earth-shattering, simply kitchen talk.
From the kitchen they returned to the bedroom to gather the dirty laundry. They had no sooner set foot inside the room when Justin placed a hand on her arm, stopping her in the process of bending to start collecting clothes.
“You know what?” he asked again, and once more going on without pause, “I think it would be a waste of that invitingly rumpled bed.” He raised that brow and flashed that wicked smile. “Don’t you?”
Hannah wanted to say no. She really did. But her vocal chords and tongue wouldn’t cooperate, and what came out was a hushed and breathless “Yes.”
Later, lying replete and boneless beside him, Hannah silently marveled at the sexual prowess of the man holding her firmly against him. She loved the feel of his warm skin against hers, his breath ruffling her hair, his hands smoothing, soothing her back with long strokes of his hand. She gave a soft, contented sigh. Could she possibly love…
Don’t go there. Hannah repeated the order she had given herself once before. This was merely fun and games. A few days out of the ordinary.
Allow yourself a few more days of physical indulgence, then run for home as though your very emotional stability depended on it…for it just might.
Spurred by her introspection, Hannah rolled out of Justin’s arms, off the bed and grabbed up her robe. “I’m taking a shower,” she announced, making a bee-line for the bathroom.
“Hey, wait,” Justin barked, coming after her.
He was too late. She flipped the lock jut as he reached for the doorknob.
“Hannah,” he pleaded with a soft laugh. “Let me in.”
“You’ve been in,” Hannah dared to playfully remind him. “A lot. And I loved every minute of it,” she conceded, smiling at his exaggerated groan. “Now I want to have a long shower and shampoo my hair. I’ll see you in about a half hour…if you’re lucky.”
“A half hour?” Justin shouted. “What the hell am I going to do for a half hour?”
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” She turned the wat
er on full force to drown out any reply he might make.
Hannah felt wonderfully clean as she stepped from the shower. She also was rather proud of herself, as she had finished five or so minutes faster than she had promised Justin.
Holding her robe around her, she entered the bedroom. The room was empty, not a half-naked, too-attractive man in sight. To her surprise, not only was the floor clear of their clothes, the bed had been stripped and remade.
The man in question continued to amaze her. Whoever thought Mr. Philanderer would turn out to be so domesticated?
Taking advantage of the moment or privacy, Hannah dug in her suitcase for a clean set of clothes. When she was dressed, she stepped into her slippers.
Feeling warmer, and relatively protected by the clothing, Hannah plugged in her blow dryer and went to work on her hair with a round brush. She was making progress, the long strands no longer dripping, when Justin breezed into the room.
“The sheets are in the washer. It’ll shut off in about fifteen minutes.” He went to a dresser to remove fresh clothing. “As you’ll note, I remade the bed.”
“And now you want applause?”
He grinned. “No, a kiss will do for a reward.”
“I don’t think so.” She shook her head.
Up went the eyebrow. “You don’t trust me?”
“Not for a heartbeat.” Trying not to laugh at his sorrowful expression, she grabbed her brush. “You get your shower, while I finish drying my hair.”
He heaved a deep, noisy sigh. “You’re one tough lady, sweet Hannah. You know that?” Grumbling loudly, Justin strode to the bathroom.
Never in a million years would Hannah have believed she could have so much fun with a man. She had hardly even laughed with-Well forget that one. He had been much too serious and full of himself, among other things.
Giggling Hannah decided on the spot that she would stay on, perhaps until the end of the week with Justin. She felt relaxed and happy. Why not enjoy his company, the fun and laughter, if only for a few more days?
After all, once the few days were over, she’d be flying back to her real life in Philadelphia. Justin would be heading back to his ranch in Montana.
They’d probably never see each other again.
The thought was oddly depressing.
Eight
Hannah was home in her apartment in Philadelphia. It was Sunday. She had flown into the airport late the previous Friday and had been home for a week and one day.
She had yet to hear a word from Justin.
Well, what had she expected? Hannah asked herself, making a half-hearted attempt to dust the living room. They had spent five days together. Five wonderful days that had left her so relaxed, her assistant had noted it the moment she had walked into the small suite of offices Monday morning.
“You look positively glowing,” Jocelyn had exclaimed. “Were you in South Dakota, or did you hide away somewhere in some exclusive spa?”
Hannah had to laugh. Actually, she felt terrific. “No spa, I promise I was in South Dakota the whole time.”
Jocelyn leveled a measuring look at her. “Well, something put that sparkle in your eyes. A man?”
Hannah knew her soft sigh and satisfied smile gave her away. The warmth spreading up her throat and over her cheeks was answer enough. Damn her new propensity to blush.
“Aha!” Jocelyn crowed. “Was he handsome? Was it romantic? Was he great in bed?”
“Jocelyn, really.” Now Hannah’s cheeks were burning. “You know I’m never going to answer such personal questions.”
“Sure.” Jocelyn grinned. “But I don’t need a blow-by-blow-” she giggled “-pardon the pun. Your expression says it all.”
Hannah blinked, startled. “It’s that obvious?”
“Yes, boss. I’m sorry, but it is. You needed a break.”
That was Monday. This was Sunday. Hannah was no longer amused, or glowing. She was hurting inside, and she feared the tiny lines of tension were about to make another appearance.
But then, she had known all along that their moment out of time couldn’t last. What had she been secretly hoping for, that Justin would be on the very next flight east, following her back?
No, she hadn’t hoped for that, even secretly.
But one phone call just to find out if she had arrived safely would have been nice, not to mention thoughtful. Had she really believed Justin was thoughtful? Hannah chided herself. Just because he helped her prepare meals, pick up their clothes that were forever flung without care to the floor, smooth the bedding that was inevitably rumpled? Because the last time they had made love there had been a sense of desperation? And because his goodbye kiss had been deep, lingering, as if he couldn’t bear to stop?
Hannah knew better. At any rate she should have. They had played house, she and Justin, like little kids. Okay, not exactly like kids.
Hannah shivered at the memory. It had been fun, playing house together. It had been more than fun, it had been wonderful, an awakening of her senses and sensuality.
Tears misted her eyes. Why the hell had she gone and done something as stupid as fall in love with him? For she had fallen in love with Justin, no strings for me, Justin, philanderer extraordinaire.
Not fair, Hannah, she told herself, swiping her eyes with her fingertips. He had never made any promises. He had been up-front with her, had offered her nothing more than fun and games. She had gone into the affair with her eyes open. She had no one to blame but herself for the empty feelings of pain and longing she was experiencing now.
Life does go on, Hannah assured herself, and so would she. There was no other choice. She had friends, a career, a business to run…a living room to dust.
Justin was on the prowl, roaming the house, unsettled and cranky. Karla would attest to it; she had been witness to his moodiness. She was beginning to eye him warily, as if uncertain what he might do.
It was the weather, he told himself, staring out the window at the nearly foot of snow on the ground that was growing higher in the driving blizzard. He felt trapped, that’s what was bugging him, he thought, turning away from the scene.
Justin knew damn well his restlessness had nothing at all to do with the inclement weather. He had been raised in Wyoming, and had lived in Montana for almost ten years, had taken over the running of the ranch soon after he had graduated college. Snow, ice, winter and spring rains hadn’t bothered him, except in regard to worrying about the horses.
But Justin knew full well that the animals were in their stable stalls; warm, fed and watered by Ben and the rest of his ranch hands.
“Can I get you something, Justin?” Karla asked, as he stalked into the kitchen.
Wondering what in hell he was doing there, Justin said the first thought that jumped to mind. “Is there any coffee in the pot?” It was a dumb question, and he knew it. There was always coffee in the pot. It wasn’t always freshly made, but he had never demanded fresh, although he preferred it that way.
“Yes.” Karla smiled at him as she opened a cabinet and took down a mug. “I just made it.” She shook her head when he reached for the mug. “Sit down, I’ll get it for you.”
Not about to argue with the woman who prepared some of the best meals he had ever tasted, Justin moved to the table, collecting a carton of milk as he went by the fridge.
The coffee was exactly as he liked it, strong, hot and freshly brewed.
“Would you like something to go with that?” she asked, carrying her own mug to the table. “Cookies, a slice of pie or coffee cake?”
Ever since Ben had brought Karla to the ranch as his bride, there were always cookies in the pantry and pie in the fridge. He liked her coffee cake best…although her apple pie was also delicious.
Justin glanced at the wall clock. It was several hours to go until suppertime. “Couple of cookies sound good. Do you have any of those oatmeal, raisin, walnut cookies?”
Karla laughed and headed for the pantry. “As those are both Ben’s and your
favorite, I always keep a supply on hand. I baked a double batch yesterday.”
While Karla was inside the large storage room, Ben strolled into the kitchen from the ranch office, where he had been checking stock on the computer. In effect, Ben had virtually taken over the running of the ranch, leaving Justin feeling superfluous and adrift. He didn’t resent Ben…how could he resent a man for doing a great job, especially when the man was next thing to a member of the family?
No, Justin didn’t resent Ben. He simply felt useless.
“Where’s my bride?” Ben asked, going straight to the cabinet to pour a cup of coffee for himself.
“Ran off with the milk man,” Justin drawled, sipping carefully at the hot brew in his mug.
“Neat trick.” Ben grinned as he strolled to the table. “As we don’t even have a milk man.”
Justin waved a hand in dismissal. “Minor point.”
“You rang, Your Lordship?” Karla emerged from the pantry to favor her husband with a smile. “Was there something you wanted from me?”
Ben flashed a wicked grin. “Yeah, but this isn’t the time or place. The boss is watching.” He jerked his head at the plate she was carrying. “I’ll settle for some of those cookies you’ve got there.”
Their affectionate banter created a hollow sensation in Justin’s midsection. Telling himself it had nothing to do with one Hannah Deturk and the bantering, laughter and tender moments they had shared, he attempted to fill the hollow place with cookies. His ploy didn’t work.
Through the long, seemingly endless days that followed, nothing worked. Including Justin. Leaving the majority of the ranch responsibilities to Ben, Justin brooded and prowled the house like a hungry mountain lion.
Hungry was the key word, and it had nothing to do with his stomach. How often had he reached for the phone, to place a long-distance call to Philadelphia? Justin couldn’t remember, but he knew damn well why he had never actually lifted the telephone receiver.
What could he say to Hannah? I miss you, and I’m hard as hell? Yeah, he derided himself. That ought to turn any woman’s mind and will to molten lava. And Hannah wasn’t just any woman. Oh, no. Sweet Hannah was her own woman, a fact she had made abundantly clear to him from the beginning.
