by Kristi Gold
“Honesty.”
Again, she looked as if she’d been slapped. Why the hell couldn’t he control his mouth where she was concerned? “I guess I deserve that,” she said. “But I promise I’ll be honest with you from now on. In fact, I’d be willing to let you see the final draft. You can approve or disapprove any of the content before it’s put to bed.”
Speaking of bed…. Even though he didn’t like that she’d hidden the truth about her questionable occupation, Mitch was still commanded by their chemistry, and he didn’t see any end to it anytime soon. Especially if she spent a solid week in his world. “What about us?”
“What about us?”
“This thing between us.”
She sighed. “Our relationship would have to be strictly professional from this point forward.”
“And this is supposed to sell me on the idea?”
She hinted at a smile. “Whatever’s existed between us on a personal level until now will have to be ignored.”
He’d bet his back forty acres she couldn’t ignore it any more than he could, and he intended to put her to the test. Scooting across the seat, he cupped her chin, running his thumb over her lower lip. “You really think that’s possible?”
“Sure.” She didn’t sound at all convinced.
He trailed his fingertip down her throat and outlined the scoop neck of her dress, following the path where his mouth had been only a few minutes before. “Just like that, you’re going to turn it off?”
“Yes.”
When he palmed her breast, this time through the fabric, she released a ragged breath. “Are you sure about that?” he asked.
“Positive.”
“Your nipple’s hard.”
“It’s cold.”
“You’re lying again.”
She pulled his hand away and rested it in his lap. “I’m a lot stronger than you think. If you’ll let me do this story, I’ll prove it to you.”
For the second time, Mitch collapsed against the seat and stared at the truck’s faded headliner. “I’ll have to think about.”
“Fine. My plane leaves from Oklahoma City at noon. That means I’ll need to leave Stella’s tomorrow by 9 a.m. If you’re not there, then I’ll take that as a no and head back to Dallas. We’ll forget any of this ever happened.”
Regardless of whether he decided to do the interview, he would never forget what had happened between them last night. What had almost happened again tonight. He would never forget her. “Okay. Agreed.”
She nodded toward the bar. “We need to go back inside. I’m sure they’re wondering where we are.”
“Suit yourself.”
She frowned. “Aren’t you coming in?”
“No. I’m going to say here for a while. I need to calm down.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose as if she had one helluva headache. “I’m sorry I made you so angry. I never intended to do that.”
“Anger isn’t my problem at the moment.”
She sent a pointed look at his lap, which didn’t help matters at all. Even with the loose fit of the slacks, his problem was more than evident.
“Oh,” she muttered then glanced away.
“Oh, yeah.”
“I’m sorry about that, too.”
Mitch was only sorry he couldn’t do anything about it, at least not with her tonight. But maybe later. If he agreed to her request.
He had a lot to consider tonight, not only her current proposal but also the fact that he was hard as hell just thinking about what they could be doing in his bed. He’d just have to decide if having her around for a week would be worth it.
Who was he trying to fool? Damn straight it would be worth it.
When he didn’t speak, she opened the truck and slid out. “I really hope I see you in the morning.”
He really hoped that if he did decide to do it, he wouldn’t be making a major mistake.
Tori’s hope began to fade when she glanced at her watch. Half past nine, and no Mitch. She’d already mopped the kitchen floor twice in order to ready Stella’s rental house for the next tenants. In fact, the family could probably eat off the vinyl tiles. And worse, she was ruining her good black slacks and favorite white crepe de chine blouse. She should have changed into something more casual but she’d wanted to save her one pair of jeans for later, in case Mitch decided to take her up on her offer. That obviously was not going to happen. Stalling for time wasn’t going to make Mitch Warner magically materialize.
Last night, she’d seen him only briefly back at the bar after their tense encounter in his truck. He’d stayed long enough to toast the couple and then headed away with only a quick goodbye. He hadn’t witnessed the cake-cutting, the garter toss or Tori miraculously catching the bouquet. Of course, if she hadn’t made the grab, the cascading flowers would have hit her dead in the face. No doubt, the whole thing had been rigged by the bride.
And most likely, those final few moments in Mitch’s presence would be her last, at least for a while. She didn’t plan to return to Quail Run until after the birth of Stella’s baby. She could manage that visit in a day and never even have to run into him, if she was unlucky.
Resting her palms on the top of the mop handle, Tori muttered, “Stubborn man. Stubborn, sexy man.” Not only would she have to return to work without the story of the decade, she would also have to face her boss with the news that she hadn’t been successful. She should’ve asked Mitch first before she’d called Renee yesterday morning about the possibilities. Oh, well. The plan had been a good one, even if it hadn’t come to fruition.
“Time to go, Cinderella. Looks like Prince Charming isn’t going to show. If we don’t hurry, you’ll miss your plane.”
Tori looked up to see Stella standing in the hall, holding Tori’s battered black duffel against her chest. She propped the mop by the back door and frowned. “You don’t need to be lifting anything, Stella.”
“You sound just like Bobby.” She held out the bag. “Here.”
Tori took the duffel and headed toward the door. She turned and scanned the house one more time, proud that she’d accomplished so much with so little sleep. The sounds of Bobby’s and Stella’s official consummation the night before hadn’t plagued her as much as thoughts of Mitch. She doubted those would dissipate any time in the near future, even after she was back to business as usual.
Tori opened the screen and stepped out into the sunshine—then nearly fell off the porch. Leaning against his truck, Mitch Warner looked as gorgeous in the daylight as he did deep in the night. Funny, she hadn’t even considered that she’d never seen him during the day. And she sure as heck hadn’t considered he would actually show up considering the time. She would forgive him his tardiness. Forgive him just about anything. How could she not pardon a man in faded denim and blue flannel that matched his eyes, his arms folded over his broad chest and his long legs crossed at the ankles stretched out before him? How could she ever forget the picture he now presented? Picture. Darn, her camera was in the front seat of the car. Otherwise she might take a shot or two as a souvenir. Probably not a great idea since he wasn’t exactly smiling.
When he didn’t bother to move or speak, Tori strolled to Stella’s car and slid her bag into the open trunk on the off chance that his sudden appearance involved a friendly visit, not a business proposition. If he had decided to nix her offer, she would be gracious. She didn’t feel the need to hold anything against him—except maybe her body.
Cut it out, Tori.
If he did happen to agree to her proposal, from now on she couldn’t afford to entertain any lascivious thoughts about Mitch Warner. Or at least she couldn’t be obvious about it.
After Tori straightened her shoulders and closed the trunk, she turned to face Mitch. “Good morning, Mr. Warner.”
He pushed off the truck and approached her slowly. “Sorry I’m late. I’m running behind this morning.”
Tori’s heart was running at full speed. “That’s okay. Cleanup t
ook longer than we thought.” After waiting for confirmation, Tori glanced over her shoulder to find Stella had disappeared back into the house, evident by the slamming of the screen door. Some friend.
When she brought her attention back to Mitch, she noticed he’d moved closer. She also noticed that his eyes looked tired. Translucent blue, but tired. He also had a day’s worth of dark beard blanketing his jaw and surrounding his lips. That would mean some heavy-duty whisker burn if she kissed him. However, she was not going to do that again, even if the temptation was stronger than the morning sun.
Tori shifted her weight and tried to relax her frame, a futile attempt at a nonchalant façade. “So what brings you here this morning?”
“You know why I’m here.”
She was still too afraid to hope. “Breakfast? I have a whole-grain bar in my overnight bag.”
“Are you determined to change my mind about this whole thing?”
“That depends on which way it would change. Are we going to do it?”
He grinned then, revealing dazzling white teeth accentuating his dazzling smile. “Sure. Stella’s car or my truck?”
“I meant the interview.”
“Too bad.”
“So?”
“What do you think?”
She thought she would die on the spot from the suspense. “I don’t know what to think.”
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’ll do it.”
Tori kept her feet firmly fixed to keep from flinging herself into his arms. “Great. You won’t regret it.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
She’d settle for him holding her. “Okay. We’re agreed.”
“First, I have a few ground rules I expect you to follow.”
She suspected as much. “Okay.”
“I don’t want to answer a lot of really personal questions.”
She certainly didn’t intend to reveal that their first up close and personal encounter happened in the back of a truck. “Fine. I’ll avoid the boxers or briefs query.” She already knew the answer to that one anyway—briefs.
“And I don’t want to talk about my father.”
That could put a severe kink in her plans. “Mitch, we’re going to have to talk about him in terms of your insistence you’re not going to assume his role in politics.”
“You can mention that briefly, but I don’t want to talk about why we haven’t spoken more than three times in fourteen years.”
“Only three times?” Tori couldn’t suppress the shock in her tone.
“Yeah, and that’s all I’m going to say about that.”
The media had speculated that father and son didn’t get along, but Tori had no idea the rift in their relationship was this acute. She made a mental note to handle that situation with fine-crystal care. “Anything else?”
He leaned forward and positioned one hand on the truck near her hip, the other in his back pocket. “Yeah. We reconsider the hands-off clause.”
With him so close, Tori considered taking him up on the offer. That wasn’t at all advisable. “It’s necessary that we maintain a professional relationship while I’m interviewing you. Otherwise, I might lose my objectivity.”
“You might gain a little more insight on my likes and dislikes, at least between the sheets.”
“I don’t plan to go between your sheets.”
“You’d like my sheets.”
“Behave yourself or I’m going to reconsider.”
With a push of his palm, he took away his body, but not the heat that had worked its way beneath Tori’s skin, as he had from the first time she’d seen him saunter into the bar like a cowboy king. “If I have to behave, I will.”
She didn’t believe that for a minute. “Good. Now if you’ll give me an hour or so, I’ll settle into the motel and then I’ll have Stella give me a ride to the ranch.”
“That’s not going to work.”
“Okay, less than an hour. I just want to change into some jeans.”
His gaze raked down her, slowly, and back up again. “You look fine to me, but I meant you staying at the Quail Creek Inn. That won’t work. It’s a seedy place.”
“Unfortunately, it’s all that’s available.”
“You could stay in the main house.” He hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “It’s big enough.”
Not big enough to avoid him, Tori decided. “I don’t think that’s a great idea.”
Tori hadn’t noticed Stella’s reappearance until she said, “You could stay with me and Bobby.”
Tori regarded her friend standing by the car’s fender. “I couldn’t do that, Stella. You and Bobby are practically on your honeymoon.”
Stella engaged in a little eye-rolling. “Bobby and I have been on our honeymoon for months, and if I recall, you were in the house last night.”
Yes, attempting to sleep to the sounds of Stella and Bobby doing the horizontal cha-cha. “Do you have a spare room?”
“Three bedrooms but only one bath,” Mitch said. “It’s the original house.”
“We’ll manage fine,” Stella said. “In fact, I’d love to have you for a little longer, Victoria. Since I’ve quit work, I could use the company.”
Mitch sent a less-than-friendly look at Stella. “My place would be much more comfortable.”
Not for Tori. Mitch Warner was the definition of temptation. Even if he slept in a galvanized steel chastity belt instead of pajamas, she could probably pick the lock with her teeth to get to him in a fit of adrenaline brought about by uncontrolled desire. She didn’t trust him to keep his distance. More important, she didn’t trust herself around him, especially at night.
“So what’s it going to be, Tori?” he asked. “My place or Stella’s?”
“Yeah, Tori,” Stella said. “Which one?”
Tori felt as if she’d been thrust into an accommodation war. However, she did see certain advantages to being on Mitch’s property. Rental cars were non-existent in town and she’d have to rely on Stella to cart her back and forth to the ranch every day if she stayed in the motel. That would definitely get old very quickly.
“I’ll stay with Stella and Bobby.”
“Then it’s settled,” Stella said and opened the driver’s door. “Let’s go. I want to be there when Bobby comes in for lunch. You can help me do a little unpacking.”
Great. Tori wouldn’t be a bit surprised if she was left holding a box while Bobby and Stella grabbed a nooner, just liked they’d grabbed a dawner while she’d been slaving over the floors.
When Tori rounded the car, Mitch followed her to the door. But before she could open it, he stopped her progress with a palm on the window. “If you get tired of listening to the Stella and Bobby show, come on up to my house and stay with me. I won’t bother you. Much.”
An hour later, she emerged from Stella’s faded green sedan wearing second-skin jeans and a tight-fitting sweater—a brown-eyed angel with a she-devil body that could drive a man to his knees in worship. Mitch just might have to do that in the next few days.
Maybe Tori wasn’t open to taking up where they’d left off, but that wouldn’t stop Mitch from trying. Of course, she would have to be willing, otherwise it might seem that he was trading sex for a story, and he wasn’t that low. But he wasn’t above trying a little subtle persuasion to change her mind.
Standing on the old home place porch, Stella passed by him and said, “I’ll be inside. When she gets off the phone, come on in and make yourself at home.”
He turned his attention to Tori who was now conversing on a cell phone. When she laughed and tossed her hair back from one shoulder, Mitch couldn’t quell the sudden jealousy. Maybe she did have a boyfriend back in Dallas. After all, she’d lied to him about her job. Okay, she hadn’t exactly lied, but she had withheld the truth, at least until last night.
But if he looked at it logically, she could’ve led him on a merry chase, gathering information under the pretense of an extended visit, only to h
ightail it out of Quail Run to write a story and he wouldn’t have been the wiser until it came out in print. Instead, she’d opted to be up front and honest about her plans, and he had to respect that. He wasn’t quite ready to trust her, though. Not until he knew for certain she wasn’t bent on making a buck on a bunch of falsehoods.
After Tori finished her conversation and opened the trunk, Mitch approached and took the suitcase from her. “Calling for backup?” he asked.
Even her frown was damn pretty in the daylight. “Calling my boss. I had to let her know I’d be staying for a week.”
“She didn’t have a problem with that?”
“Not when she considers what I have to gain.”
Tori had no idea what she could gain if she would only say yes to him. And sure as the sun set she would say it before she left.
He set the case on the porch. “I’ll leave this here for now. I want you to come up and meet my granddad.”
“I’ve met him. I used to live here, remember?”
“Then I’m sure he’d like to see you again.”
“Is that the only reason you want me in your house?”
He grinned when he noticed her blush. “What other reason would I have?”
She folded her arms beneath her breasts. “I could think of a few. I guess I’m having a little trouble trusting you.”
“Guess that makes two of us.”
“Good point.”
He held out his hand to her, which she failed to take. He could live with that reluctance, for now. “Come on up. I’ll only occupy you for a few minutes.” Or longer, if she was willing.
“Okay. For a while.”
At least she walked fairly close to him as they traveled up the path while he explained they owned almost three thousand acres, land that had been in his mother’s family for over five generations, purchased when Oklahoma was still a territory. The conversation was so dry that by the time Mitch reached the front porch, he realized he’d missed his calling as a history professor.
