Texas Temptation

by Barbara Mccauley

  “Sandwiches—” He stopped abruptly at the sight of Annie’s full breasts pressing tightly against her blouse as she arched her back and groaned. He quickly recovered, though he had to swallow first in order to finish speaking. “—are about the extent of my culinary abilities.”

  “Really?” She gave him a curious look. “I would have thought that—”

  She caught herself, but he knew what she’d been about to say. Jonathan had practically been a gourmet cook. Jared felt a strange surge of anger and nearly blurted out that he wasn’t Jonathan, but he held his words in check.

  “I manage to get by on canned soup and frozen dinners,” he said, moving into the kitchen. “Jessica takes pity on me once in a while and cooks something for me. Even Savannah insists I come over for dinner at least once a week.”

  He opened the refrigerator and loaded his arms with sandwich makings, then shut the door and plopped everything down on the counter. “I must look like I’m wasting away, the way they fuss over me.”

  Hardly, Annie thought, uncrossing her legs and standing. In fact, she doubted she’d ever seen a healthier more virile man than Jared.

  And she certainly had seen Jared.

  For the most part, she’d managed not to think about what had happened between them this morning. There’d been momentary lapses, such as when he’d spoken and the rough grain of his voice had skimmed over her skin like a current of low-voltage electricity. Or the time he’d brushed her knee with his, and her heart had shifted into double time. The idea of women fussing over Jared was not a difficult concept to grasp.

  She sat on a bar stool opposite him at the counter, watching him slice a tomato with a sharp knife. His hands fascinated her. They were large, with long work-worn fingers and callused palms. She’d experienced their rough texture on her skin that morning and knew firsthand the sensuality they contained.

  She knew the pleasure they contained, as well.

  “Lettuce?” he asked.

  “Please.” Disturbed by her thoughts, she looked quickly away, pretending interest in a small clay paperweight shaped like an oil well.

  What was happening here? she asked herself, lifting the paperweight so she’d have something to occupy her hands. She couldn’t be attracted to Jared. He was Jonathan’s brother.

  Since Jonathan, she hadn’t found anyone who had interested her enough to date more than casually. Most of the men she met in the field were arrogant die-hard chauvinists whose main hobby was seeing how quickly they could get a woman into the sack.

  She couldn’t help the smile that crept over her lips. Jared had probably beat the world record this morning in that masculine sport.

  “Emma made it for me.”

  “What?” She glanced up sharply.

  “The paperweight.” He gestured to the crude sculpture in her hands. “Emma made it.”

  “Emma?” Annie turned it over and noticed the inscription on the bottom: To Jared. E.R.S. “Oh, yes. Your half sister. You want to tell me about her?”

  He handed Annie a sandwich. “We found out about her at the reading of J.T.’s will. Turns out that my father had an affair ten years ago with the architect who designed his house.”

  “You mean Stone Manor?” Annie asked, remembering the huge house that J.T.’s wife, Myrna Stone, had been so proud of and lived in still. Annie had never liked the place. It was cold and pretentious, like the woman herself.

  Jared nodded. “The architect’s name was Angela Roberts. She left when she found out she was pregnant. She never told my father, and it was several years before he finally hired a private investigator to look for her. The man managed to uncover the fact that Angela had had a baby, but unfortunately J.T. died before the mother or child could be found.”

  Annie started to take a bite of her sandwich, then stopped. “But...then, how did you, I mean...”

  Jared reached behind him and opened the refrigerator. He pulled out two sodas and set one in front of Annie.

  “Jake continued the search. The P.I. found the child five months later. Only problem—” he popped the lid of his soda and it fizzed loudly “—was that Angela Roberts had also died.”

  Annie closed her eyes and released a long slow breath. “Oh, Jared, I’m so sorry.”

  He stared at the soda can for a long moment, then nodded grimly.

  “Anyway,” Jared continued, “when we found Emma a few months ago she was living with an aunt. It wasn’t easy, but Jake talked the aunt into coming here with Emma for a visit.” A smile lifted one corner of Jared’s mouth. “Then he married her.”

  Annie still couldn’t believe it. Jake, of all people, remarried. She remembered that when Jonathan had told Jake he was getting married, the first thing Jake had said was, “Better you than me, bro. Have a dozen kids to make up for the ones I won’t.” Though he’d laughed as he said it, the smile never made it to his eyes.

  The sandwich she was eating suddenly tasted like sawdust in her mouth. Annie had never had the chance to even marry Jonathan, let alone have his children. She’d almost thought—even hoped—that she’d been pregnant when she’d left that summer. She’d desperately wanted something of Jonathan she could have with her always, a part of him that she could love. A child.

  But she hadn’t been pregnant. She realized later, of course, that it was for the best, but at the time she’d been disappointed.

  She set the sandwich down and looked at Jared. “And now you’re here, too.”

  “And now I’m here.”

  And so am I, she thought.

  For a few minutes there’d been an easiness between them, a connection that surprised her. But it was gone now, as if it were no more than a wisp of smoke.

  And they were both abruptly aware that her visit was not of a social nature.

  A weariness overcame her, and she felt a sudden desperate need to be alone. Away from here. She stood and rolled her shoulder to loosen the stiffness there.

  “Thanks for the sandwich, Jared, but I think I’ve done all I’m capable of doing for now. I’m beat. It’s been a long drive here from Dallas. Why don’t we start fresh tomorrow and take a look at the rig first thing in the morning? Say about nine?”

  “All right.” He set his sandwich down as if he, too, had lost his appetite. “Where are you staying?”

  Annie couldn’t help but notice the fatigue that lined the edges of his deep blue eyes, and she realized that he was just as tired as she was. Based on the condition she’d found him in this morning, she assumed he hadn’t slept much the night before. She’d also noticed that he hadn’t stepped too close to a razor for a couple of days, and unbidden, the memory of how those rough bristles had felt against her neck flooded her mind.

  She looked away, letting her insides settle before trusting herself to speak.

  “I have a room in town,” she said, turning around and gathering up her notes. “At the Cactus Flat Motel. You can call me there if you need to. I’ll be going over this paperwork tonight.”

  She turned to leave, then turned back again and lifted her gaze to his. “I know it’s hard for you, my being here,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

  He nodded slowly, and she saw the pain in his eyes as he stared at her. The most natural thing in the world would have been to go to him and put her arms around him. To comfort him and to be comforted.

  But she didn’t. And though she didn’t know why, she did know that in all the time she’d been here neither she nor Jared had said Jonathan’s name once.

  Three

  Annie was already at the rig when Jared drove up the next morning. At least her car was there, he noted as he pulled up beside the Cherokee, but she wasn’t in it.

  He’d arrived early, hoping to get there before her. Partly to give himself a few minutes to do a test run on the drill motor, and partly because he needed a few minutes alone there before she showed up.

  Maybe she’d needed a few minutes herself, Jared realized grimly.

  He stepped out of his truc
k and tipped his Stetson back as he searched the area. The equipment shed was locked, so she couldn’t be in there. He started toward the small square trailer that served as office and lounge for the crew, but hadn’t gotten more than a few feet when he heard her call his name. Turning, he frowned as he looked around, but still didn’t see her.

  “Good morning.”

  Glancing upward, he narrowed his eyes and focused on a slender form silhouetted by the rising sun. She stood at the edge of the derrick platform twenty-five feet off the ground, her hand lifted in a wave.

  He froze.

  He couldn’t breathe. His heart pounded with bruising force against his ribs. He wanted to scream at her to move back, to get away from the edge, but his voice had suddenly gone numb.

  “Jared?” she called down, and stepped even closer to the edge. “Are you all right?”

  His hands were shaking now. He clenched them into fists and, without taking his eyes off her, walked stiffly to the metal platform steps, then moved slowly upward toward her. At the top of the stairs, he paused, his jaw tight, and stared at her.

  Brow furrowed, Annie asked, “Is something wrong?”

  As she stepped away from the ledge, the steel band around Jared’s chest loosened and he could breathe again. “What the hell are you doing up here?”

  “Waiting for you.”

  “You haven’t got any gear on,” he said more sharply than he intended. He was still waiting for his heart to slow down, trying not to think about how close she’d been to the edge....

  “Gear?” She frowned at him. “Jared, for heaven’s sake, I’m just looking around.”

  “There’s no place on a rig for sight-seeing, Annie. You want a tour, take the bus.” He knew he was being unreasonable, but he didn’t care. “Next time you come up here, you better have a damn good reason, and you better be wearing a safety belt and hat.”

  “A hat!” She stared at him incredulously. “You’re not even drilling yet.”

  “That would have made me feel loads better if I’d driven up and found you in a dozen pieces. And now that I think about it, you don’t need to be up here at all. You need something, let me or one of my crew handle it for you.”

  She moved close to him, close enough that he could see the flecks of green sparkle in her hazel eyes, close enough that he could smell the flowery scent of her skin. He wanted to move away, but he held his ground.

  “I’ve been in the field now for almost two years.” She tilted her chin upward. “I’ve been on a dozen rigs like this. I know what I’m doing.”

  Don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing....

  How many times had he awakened in the middle of the night, drenched with sweat, with those words pounding in his head?

  He couldn’t take that chance again. Not with Annie. “I don’t want you up here.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Damn straight I am. You have no reason to be up on the rig.”

  Her mouth thinned, and he felt his gut tighten as he stared at her lips and remembered how soft they’d felt under his, how warm. He quickly pushed the thought aside.

  “Jared, I know what’s bothering you, and it’s understandable, but I have a job to do here.”

  “Your job,” he said tightly, “involves the logging and mapping and soil samples. Once I’ve hired my crew, we’ll take care of everything else.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not my style. I know most geologists keep their distance, but my policy is strictly hands-on.”

  He tried to ward off the impulse to throw her over his shoulder and carry her off the rig. “I set the policies around here. I’m responsible for three crews of six men twenty-four hours a day. I won’t be responsible for you, too.”

  Her eyes flashed with anger. “Responsible for me? Of all the—” She leveled her gaze on his. “Jared, sit down.”

  “What?”

  “I said, sit down.” She pointed to the floor of the platform.

  He narrowed his eyes, then did as she asked, stretching one leg out in front of him and bending the other. She sat facing him, curling her legs under her in a way that made him think about how long and slender those limbs were in her tight jeans.

  She laced her fingers together and stared at them for a long moment. A hawk swept close to the derrick, screeching as it soared past, and a prairie dog chattered a warning to the underground community that a predator was close by.

  He waited for her to speak, watching as a breeze ruffled the ends of her hair. She combed the loose strands away from her face and finally lifted her gaze to his. Her eyes were soft now, edged with a sadness that twisted his insides.

  He understood with painful clarity how his brother had fallen in love with this woman. And he also understood why he had to keep his distance.

  “Jared.” She reached out and laid her hands on his. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  His jaw clenched as he stared down at her fingers resting on his knuckles. Her skin was smooth and cool, yet her touch burned. But he didn’t want her understanding. And he sure as hell didn’t want her pity. “So I’ve been told.”

  She frowned and her fingers closed around his. “Dammit, Jared, it wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. A terrible tragic accident. There was nothing you could have done to prevent it.”

  “He didn’t belong up here,” Jared said tightly. “He wasn’t familiar with the operation yet. He didn’t have the experience.”

  “And you think you could have stopped him?”

  It was a question he’d asked himself every day for almost four years. A question he’d never have an answer to. “I should have insisted. He didn’t understand the risks.”

  She shook her head. “He understood more than you give him credit for. The need to be a part of it, every aspect of it, was in his blood just as strongly as it was—and still is—in yours. You couldn’t have taken that away from him.”

  Jared stared at Annie, amazed at the compassion lighting her face. She’d lost her future with the man she’d loved, yet she sat here and attempted to comfort him. Anger at himself, as hot as it was black, shot through him. “I was the one with working experience on this rig. Jonathan was green, right out of the classroom.”

  Annie felt Jared’s hands tighten beneath her touch. His jaw was taut, and his eyes... Lord, the pain she saw there was like a sharp knife twisting in her chest. She drew in a slow ragged breath and forced herself to hold his gaze with her own.

  “Do you realize,” she asked quietly, “that’s the first time you’ve even said his name?”

  His lips thinned and he looked away, but for one split second, so brief she almost thought she imagined it, Annie saw—and understood—the depth of Jared’s anguish. The first year after Jonathan’s death, she’d seen that same look staring back at her from the mirror. She’d felt that grief. She’d lived it. Time had slowly healed her, but Jared, apparently, hadn’t been so fortunate.

  She felt a desperate need to free him from his torment, to ease the pain he’d lived with for the past several years. But what could she say? What could she do? Jared wasn’t going to let anyone get that close. The wall he’d built around himself served not only to keep everyone else out, but to keep him in, as well. And of all the people he didn’t want help from, Annie was first on the list, she knew. If anything, Jared wanted her as far away from him as possible.

  Because she couldn’t stop herself, she leaned in closer and stroked the back of his hands with her thumbs. The coarse texture of his skin amazed her, but not nearly as much as the moisture that gathered in her eyes and fell onto Jared’s fingers. Was she crying for Jonathan or for Jared?

  Dammit, Jared thought. Not tears. He could stand anything but tears. He reached for her then and pulled her into his arms, cradling her body against his. “Aw, jeez, Annie, don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

  “I’m not,” she insisted with a sniff. “Not really.”

  He smiled as she wiped at h
er eyes, but when she laid her head against his shoulder his smile faded.

  A heat began to build in him. Even though he’d been half-asleep when he’d kissed Annie yesterday, he’d never forget the taste of her. The sweetness, and the shimmer of innocence that had made his blood race and his pulse pound.

  Her cheek brushed his neck, and the warmth of her sigh on his skin had his blood pounding again, only faster and more furious this time because he was wide awake now and more aware of Annie in his arms than he had ever been aware of any woman in his entire life.

  His hands tightened on her arms, and his mind screamed to move away before she felt his arousal. But somehow he was pulling her closer, tucking her against him as if he might never let go.

  “Annie,” he breathed her name with a ragged whisper, “I—”

  He stopped himself. I what? I want you? I need you? For God’s sake! This was Annie. Jonathan’s Annie. He didn’t have the right. Not ever.

  With willpower he didn’t know he possessed, he finally set her away from him. He struggled to breathe, and when he looked at her flushed face and saw the confusion in her eyes, he decided that horse whipping wouldn’t be good enough for him. She’d needed comfort and he’d wanted to take her. To touch her and make love to her. Right here. Right where Jonathan had died.

  Disgusted with himself, he stood and pulled her to her feet. “You might want to take a look at the equipment,” he said in a voice that sounded foreign to him. “It was purchased new three years ago, and I’ve reconditioned everything in the past few weeks.”

  Annie felt as if everything inside her was shifting. She looked at Jared, heard him speaking, but she hadn’t a clue what he’d said. Her heart beat low and heavy. Her throat felt dry. When he let go of her hand, she nearly protested.

  What had just happened between them? Something very strong, powerful even. It had the same physical drive as yesterday when he’d pulled her into his bed and kissed her, but there was an even stronger force this time, something that went beyond attraction. Something primitive and raw, a need that shook her clear to her toes.

  Her pulse increased as he watched her with eyes that were as dark as they were intense. They stood mere inches from each other. A simple lift of a hand would connect them, bring them together. Her body tingled with anticipation.