Muscles flexed as he raised an arm to catch the shirt she had yet to toss him. “Gwen?” Though he wiggled his fingers to get her attention, it was the tiny curling at the corner of his lips that had her finally throwing the top. Damn man knew the sight of his naked chest made her lose a few brain cells and was pleased in that smug way men get. It made her wish for a brick to throw at his head instead.
Purposely turning her back on all that yummy male flesh once again, she crossed to the second metal cabinet and unlocked it. “You know how to use a shotgun?”
When only silence met her question, she glanced over her shoulder, to see him staring at her butt.
“Rome.” Her tone was an order.
When he tore his gaze away from her backside, it was with an unrepentant look, full of predatory heat that sent warmth spreading through her veins. “You have the most delectable ass I’ve ever seen.”
That ass clenched at the husky comment. “Uh.
Thanks.” She had to get them back on topic before she said something she’d regret. Like “do me”. Especially since she was once again blindsided by the hard masculinity of the chest he had yet to cover.
She repeated the question, hoping he didn’t notice her elevated breathing. “Do you know how to use a shotgun?”
Rome arched a dark brow. “ATF. Military.”
“You could have been a paper pusher for all I know.”
Yeah, right.
“I can handle any weapon made.” The fact no arrogance colored his words made Gwen believe his statement. It was as impressive as it was femininely arousing.
Good Lord. Was that drool gathering at the corners of her mouth? She licked her lips. “Then I’ll lead while you’ll bring up the rear with the gun.”
Rome glanced from her damp lips to her eyes with a frown. “Expecting trouble?”
“No. Not really. It’s just a precaution.” She laid the weapon across the desk, muzzle toward the wall. “Though the others think I’m crazy, I know I saw a jaguar a couple months back. Like I said, it’s just a precaution.”
Gwen could see the tension in Rome’s body, his face turning impassive. “You plan on shooting it?”
“No! Of course not!” She barely refrained from slamming the pouch full of ammo down next to the gun in outrage. “They’re tranqs just in case he gets too close. I don’t plan to kill or capture him, Rome. Just make him sleepy so we can get safely out. Jags are as dangerous as they are breathtakingly gorgeous. Did you know that though it’s the third largest feline after the lion and tiger, its bite has twice the strength of a lion’s? Almost two thousand pounds of pressure between its jaws. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want ones mouth anywhere near me.”
His chin dropped to his chest, but not before she saw the twitching of his lips. “So noted.”
Not knowing what she’d said to amuse him, Gwen gnawed on her bottom lip and turned back to lock the cabinets. “We need to get going or we’ll be late.”
He shifted farther into the room and from her peripheral, she saw him unbuckle his belt, the sight making her fingers fumble with the keys. When he only slipped the ammo pouch along the length of leather, she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cool metal, struggling to gain control of her senses.
“Are you all right?”
Gwen gasped, flipping around to find Rome right behind her. “I-I’m fine. Just a little tired.”
He raised a hand to cup the side of her face, his thumb a gentle caress on her cheekbone. “You have bruises under your eyes. Nightmares?”
Not even close. “No. Just didn’t sleep well.”
Rome edged closer, resting one forearm against the metal door next to her head. His incredible scent made her slightly dizzy, his heat causing the ache in her belly to spread to lower places. When his thumb moved to trace her bottom lip, she trembled. “Wh-what are you doing?”
“I’m pretty sure I can help you sleep, bella.”
Gwen knew enough Spanish to know Rome was
calling her beautiful. Or it could be Italian. His father was Hispanic, his mother English-Italian and the combined genes made for some very fine offspring. One of which was currently melting Gwen’s insides. She would be a puddle of goo in another minute if she didn’t stop this.
Attempting to halt his seduction, she got distracted for a moment when her hands met the hard wall of his bare chest. Her fingertips curled into the solid strength of muscles. “That’s not a good idea, Rome.”
His eyes were enigmatic. “Why?”
A simple question she had an equally simple answer for. “You’re the son of my employers.”
“Which means what, exactly?”
She nearly sighed when he removed his hand from her face. But the relief – disappointment? – was short lived as his head lowered until his lips touched her neck. Her traitorous body caused her head to tilt and give him better access. “You’re off limits.”
“I disagree.” Rome continued to nuzzle her skin.
“Neverthe-less...” She lost her train of thought when he licked a heated trail along the rapid beat of her pulse. Her eyelids were too heavy to keep open, so she closed them.
“Ah. Mmmm.” Her hands slid up his chest to clench his shoulders and he let out what sounded like a growl of approval.
“And you disagree as well.” The warmth of his breath made her damp flesh tingle. Her breasts swelled, nipples beading into twin points of need. But Rome didn’t move on the invitation to cup them. He kept his arms up, on either side of her face, caging her in. His lips and tongue were doing exceptionally well on their own to blow her mind. If he’d added his hands to the mix, she’d probably spontaneously combust on the spot.
“Yes.”
“Yes you agree or yes you disagree?” His hands moved down to encompass her waist, then so very slowly, he slid them up along her sides. She may have whimpered.
“You can’t always get what you want.”
“But you sure as hell can keep trying.” His thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts, his erection a hard press against her pelvic bone. She wanted that press lower and went to lift on her toes to align his thick length to the ache between her thighs when her cell let out a loud, melodic ring. She jumped, a short squeal of surprise leaving her lips before she could stop it.
The noise must have startled Rome as well because his hands tightened briefly with a soft grunt before he stepped back.
Unable to bring herself to look at him, Gwen hurriedly answered her phone. “Hello?”
“Your hikers are assembled. Where are you?”
Melinda’s tone wasn’t accusatory, just curious.
Gwen held the phone between her shoulder and ear as she zipped her backpack closed. “We’re leaving the office now.” “Rome found you then?”
“He did, yes.”
“Hmmm. Is my son giving you a hard time?”
Gwen wished. She slid the backpack onto one shoulder, glancing at Rome at the same time to see him still shirtless, his hand rubbing at his ear as if it hurt. Surely she hadn’t screamed that loud.
Puzzled, she shifted the phone to her other hand so she could slip her arm through the second strap. “Not at all.
He just needs to put his shirt on.”
Silence met her comment and she squeezed the phone. Hard. “He had to change shirts. The company shirt.
For the hike.” More silence. “Nothing happened.”
What might have been an aborted attempt to bite back a laugh came over the line. “Of course. Pity that.”
“Pardon?”
“Ah. So we’ll see you in a few, dear.” The line went dead and Gwen gaped at the phone. Pity what? Surely Melinda didn’t want Gwen cavorting with one of her sons.
Did she?
“Ready?”
Gwen looked up to see Rome had finally donned the company shirt and was slinging the shotgun over his shoulder. “You need to tuck your shirt in.”
The look he gave her was indecipherable. “I don’t
think so. Not yet anyway. Possibly never again.”
Gwen moved past him into the hallway, still struggling to make sense of what Melinda had told her and thinking she must be over analyzing her boss’s words. “Why ever not? It’s company standard. Professionalism. You understand professionalism.”
Rome followed, watched as she locked the office door.
“But a hard on isn’t.”
Gwen tripped over her own feet. Wide eyes shot, unbidden, to the front of his jeans and Rome groaned.
“Christ, woman. If you stare at it, it definitely won’t go away.”
Blowing out her cheeks, Gwen purposely took a big step away and presented him with her back. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, darling.” Amusement lit his face. “But anytime you want to help me remedy the, ah, situation, just know I’m all for it.”
Her steps quickened until she was practically running toward the front door. She needed air in a bad way. “Can’t happen.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Finally outside, she glanced over her shoulder to see him once again eying her butt. “What’s the difference?”
He looked up, deep brown eyes sparkling with dark and dangerous intent. “Difference is how I go about changing your mind.”
With no way to answer him, Gwen forged across the lawn toward the main house and her waiting hikers. The man most certainly was a menace. To her peace of mind, and, more importantly, to her sudden raging libido.
Chapter Six
“So what about the pirate you were telling us about last night?” The question came from the older of the two Merchin boys, Jason, who’d run up ahead of the line, his younger brother, Brett, at his heels.
Gwen grinned down at them. She’d known the inquisition was coming and was more than a little surprised they’d waited as long as they had. Their curiosity had been palpable last night, their identical blue eyes bright with interest.
Perfect timing as well. They were closing in on the rock garden where they would stop for a rest. Glancing over her shoulder, she assessed her hikers. Lynn and Byron Merchin were right behind her, followed by the newlyweds, Sharon and Allan Whyde. Last night, Gwen had been leery of Sharon’s ability to handle the hike without complaint, seeing only the long, red nails, the gold jewelry and perfectly made up hair and face. But the woman was doing great, keeping up without any visible distress and actually seemed to be enjoying the physical exertion. So much for first impressions.
Which made her think she needed to re-evaluate her first impression of Rome, because he certainly wasn’t turning out to be what she’d initially thought.
Amy and Lisa, two of the re-visiting female trio, were lagging at the end of the line, their third, Beth, had opted to forgo the hike and sleep in. The reason the younger women were trailing behind? Rome. Gwen had heard the giggling from the start and it made her want to pluck their simpering eyes out.
At that moment, Rome raised his head and shot her a look so full of exasperation that she nearly laughed.
It seemed he didn’t appreciate all their feminine cooing and admiration after all. Heart lighter than when they’d started out, Gwen turned her focus to Jason. “What is it you’d like to know?”
“Did you find his treasure? Did it have swords and gold and stuff? What happened to it? Can we see it?”
Gwen blinked at the serious of rapid-fire questions.
“Well. The treasure isn’t a fact, it’s all supposition.” When his face scrunched up in confusion, she grinned again. “A rumor. No one knows for sure that Morgan even settled in this area. The man who built the place had a different name, remember?”
“Yeah but I bet he changed his name so the cops couldn’t find him.” This from Brett.
Stunned at such an astute statement from a five-year old, Gwen pressed her lips together as if in contemplation rather than biting back a delighted laugh. “Possibly, but even if Claude Morgan changed his name and built the Orchards’ House, no one knows if or where his treasure is buried.”
“It’s probably in the house. In a secret place like a loose stone in the fireplace or something.” Jason said excitedly.
An amused male chuckle drifted up the line to reach her ears. Having reached the clearing where the boulders rested, she twisted to walk backwards, seeing that Rome had quickened his steps, forcing the girls back in formation, lest they lose his attention.
“We’ll rest here for ten minutes before heading on.”
She told the group at large.
“Can we climb the rocks?” Brett asked.
“If it’s okay with your parents,” Gwen responded absently, eyes flitting to Rome as Lynn said, “Just be careful.”
With whoops of joy, the boys ran off to scramble over the boulders. Everyone gathered in the clearing and Gwen leaned back against one large granite surface. Tilting her head inquisitively, she asked Rome, “What where you laughing at?”
Rome’s teeth flashed white, dark eyes gleaming with humor, and he lifted his chin in the direction the boys were playing. “They remind me of my brothers and I as kids. We thought the treasure was buried in the house as well and we looked everywhere. Even pulled up a couple of floorboards, much to the dismay of our parents.”
“But did you ever look in the fireplace?” Jason wanted to know. Gwen craned her neck to see him standing several inches above her head, legs wide, hands on his hips, his younger brother right next to him, emulating his stance. The sight made her heart sigh. She’d always wanted several Jasons and Bretts to call her own.
“Sure did.” Rome said. “In fact, when our mom decided she wanted to turn the old house into a bed-and-breakfast, every room was gutted for new plumbing, electrical and so on. It took five long years to complete, but by the time it was done, my brothers and I had inspected every single inch of that house. Unfortunately, we never found any pirate treasure.”
At their crestfallen appearance, Rome lowered his voice. “But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Everyone probably believes Morgan hid his treasure in his home, where it was safe and he could keep on eye on it. But I’ve been thinking. Maybe Morgan had a really secret hiding place.” The timbre of his voice grew hypnotic and everyone stared to watch him, spellbound.
“He had acres and acres to stash his gold. There was no real reason to keep it at the house and every reason to hide it somewhere out in the woods. Back then this forest was full of wild and dangerous animals, like panthers and jaguars. They were the perfect protectors for his treasure.
And,” he looked around and everyone followed his gaze.
“He probably marked the spot. Possibly with some big boulders.” He turned sparkling eyes towards the boys who were giving themselves whiplash as they tried to take in their surroundings all at once. “Wanna look?”
“Yes!” Came the dual response.
“Well,” Rome hold out a hand. “Come on then and let’s search for buried treasure.”
The boys jumped down with shouts of excitement and hurried after Rome. As they peeked and prodded, Byron pulled out a bottle of water from his pack and lifted his chin in the direction Rome went. “He’s good.”
“Yes.” Gwen stared after Rome, watching him interact with the boys. “Yes he is.”
“You two a couple?” This from an interested Lynn.
“What?” Gwen’s eyes went wide. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Well why ever not?” Sharon asked, digging into a bag of trail mix. “He’s definitely got the hots for you.”
Gwen’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“Men know when another man is interested in a woman.” This from Allan who looked over at Bryon as if for confirmation.
Bryon pointed to his face. “It’s in the eyes.” Then a smile spread across his face. “And his eyes are very interested.” Several murmured agreements followed his statement, except for Amy and Lisa who were frowning and eying Gwen like a bug on a windshield.
Mortified, Gwen pressed her fingertips
to her eyes.
How had this hike become personal? She was supposed to answer any questions about the Orchards or the reserve, not about her love life. Or lack thereof.
Before she could get the group back on track, squeals of joy reached her ears, the sound making her forget the whirlwind her mind was in and smile knowingly.
They had found the treasure.
Turning, she watched two very exhilarated boys run towards their not so very astonished parents. “We found it!
We found it!”
The boys dropped to their knees and laid a small tin chest, about five inches long by four inches high, in front of them. Gwen looked around and felt her heart rise to her throat when she saw Rome strolling toward the group, his face nearly as thrilled as the boys. As he reached her side, his dark gaze locked on hers for several moments. When he arched a brow in question, she managed a small smile before tearing her gaze away to see Byron and Lynn moving to sit on the dirt across from their sons.
Jason fumbled with the little latch and opened the lid of the chest. Inside were several bundles covered with tattered material. Carefully, displaying a sense of reverence far beyond his years, seven-year old Jason unwrapped each piece.
The first item revealed was a necklace of glowing beads and precious stones which he promptly draped over his mother’s head. A large gold and garnet signet ring with the letter M inscribed on it was deliberated over before the boys decided to give it to their father as he was the head of the family. Plus the ring was far too large for either boy.
The next item Jason pulled free was a small glass pirate ship that shimmered with brilliant colors in the sun.
Gwen knew Brett was the one who liked ships. Curious, and then delightfully wistful, Gwen watched Jason hand the pretty piece over to his awed younger brother.
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