Valley of Fire

by Janelle Taylor

  “Miss Alexander is absolutely correct, Dr. Ross. Your hospital gowns are sadly lacking in every way. How do you feel this morning?” the deep, mellow voice lazily drawled in an accent she found captivating, one whose power and depth caused her heart to flutter wildly. If possible, his tone was a mixture of midwestern and Welsh, a sexy combination if there ever was one! His sensual smile left her temporarily speechless as she absorbed its warmth and pull.

  “Better, thank you,” she finally managed. Unable to be denied his identity and purpose any longer, she asked, “Who are you?”

  Before he could answer her, Ross hastily did so. “This is Lance Reynolds, the man who found you yesterday. He wanted to see how you were before I examined you again,” he stated, as if trying to insinuate some suggestive point to her handsome cavalier. “As you can see, Mr. Reynolds, she’s in fine hands. If you will excuse us, I am in quite a rush this morning.”

  Ignoring the doctor, Brandy stared at the playful smile upon her rescuer’s soft, full, sensual mouth. Her own lips curled up into a natural, dazzling smile; her emerald eyes softened and glowed warmly. It was nerve-shattering to imagine herself being carried and held in that enticing embrace.

  “I was hoping to have the opportunity to properly thank you for your help yesterday. If they’re right, you saved my life. I must admit it was a most harrowing experience,” she confessed, her voice as soft as a summer breeze.

  “Someone should have warned you not to venture into the desert without an escort and certainly not without an adequate supply of water,” he gently chided her, recalling the stern lecture he had planned and rehearsed countless times; that was, until he had gazed into those bewitching eyes of forest green and seen her enticing figure which was so seductively clad in that sheer strip of green. Her artless, soft aura gave birth to emotions which he had never felt before. He was alert to her disarming manner, subtle magic, and sexual allure—a dangerous combination in a female. She wasn’t at all what he had expected to confront this morning. Without awareness, he was being drawn to her, lured as a hungry fish to a delectable bait. There was something different about this woman, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. And he was curious about Adam Ross’s conduct. Without a doubt, the doctor was just as enchanted as he was, enchanted and rebuffed. Steven grinned, knowing Ross didn’t stand a chance against him.

  “The missing escort wasn’t my problem; the car and an empty water container were,” she stated softly, not wanting this man to think her foolish or rash. Brandy had met and known many men, but none to compare with this vital, vivid creature before her dreamy vision. “Next time, I shan’t place my life and safety in the hands of a careless mechanic.”

  He seemed about to remark upon her last statement, then decided against it. “Katherine Alexander, in your debt, kind sir,” she politely introduced herself, even though she assumed he already knew that fact. She could not hide her pleasure at his prompt visit and genuine concern for her.

  He nodded and grinned. “Your southern accent says you’re a long way from home,” he stated with an inviting tone to his rich vibrant voice.

  “Kentucky does seem another lifetime away from here. Have you ever visited there?” she casually inquired to prolong their first meeting, disregarding the doctor’s anxious fidgeting.

  “On several occasions. But evidently not in the right area,” he joked easily, alluding to disappointment in not meeting her sooner. His gaze lingered upon her mouth, then lifted to fuse with hers.

  She smiled in wishful understanding. Unaccustomed to such forwardness and flirtation, Brandy was at a loss with this disquieting man. “Perhaps I can show my gratitude by treating you to a fabulous dinner when I’m released from here,” she stated before she could help herself. Somehow the thought of never seeing him again was a pain too great to bear, too unthinkable.

  She instantly realized how forward such an invitation might seem. For all she knew, this man could be married. Even if not, he was a total stranger, and this was their first meeting. Before she could come up with some polite way to excuse herself, he stole her chance.

  His blue eyes smoldered with some emotion unknown to her. “I would be delighted, Katherine; or do you go by Kathy?” he asked, observing her sudden hesitation.

  “Kathy,” she murmured, unable to think clearly when he focused that smile upon her. How she wished she could be witty, sophisticated, charming, and beautiful like her heroines . . .

  “If you two could continue this conversation later, I must get on with my rounds,” the acidic voice ate into Brandy’s dream world.

  “Certainly, Dr. Ross,” her rescuer mildly answered, never taking his attention from Brandy. “Kathy, it’s a treat to find you looking so well this morning; you gave me quite a scare yesterday. I’ll visit you again soon, if I may?”

  “Anytime, Mr. Reynolds,” she murmured in full agreement, utterly captivated by this Apollo in human form, praying she wasn’t overly revealing her interest in him.

  “Lance, please,” he urged with a seductive smile which clouded her reason and dismissed her reserve.

  “Thank you for the gallant rescue, Lance,” she stated, her eyes saying far more than her words ever could.

  She stared at the closed door for a long time after his departure, listening to the steady retreat of his Dingo boots. Forgetting about the nasty doctor in her room, she sighed lightly and smiled secretly to herself. Could such a man be real?

  “It isn’t every day a Romeo like that rescues you, is it?” Adam playfully teased, wishing that her dreamy smile was directed at him. He was tempted to ask if she was feeling like one of her heroines, but wisely didn’t let on he knew her identity, especially since she appeared eager to conceal it. “Is there anything I can get for you, Miss Alexander? Books? Newspaper? Anything?” he asked.

  She leveled curious green eyes upon him. “You’re very thoughtful, Dr. Ross. Nothing, thank you.”

  “Please call me Adam,” he promptly suggested.

  Brandy eyed him secretly, wondering at this abrupt change. He certainly wasn’t in a hurry now that Lance Reynolds had vanished. To spare a few moments of time for the man who saved your life was neither foolish nor futile. Still, she prided herself on her manners. Unless he gave her cause, she would overlook his prior rudeness. To reestablish a formal aura, she asked, “How am I doing this morning?”

  He smiled and remarked, “You look and sound exceedingly better today. I was rather terse with you last night, Miss Alexander. Please accept my apology.”

  His confession and apology stunned her. “Perhaps we were both under stress last night,” Brandy stated calmly, feeling his apology wasn’t honest.

  “Would you prefer another doctor assigned to your case, Miss Alexander?” he asked, a hint of tension in his tightly controlled tone. He was clearly backing off, mentally cautioning himself or cunningly testing her emotional waters.

  “Whatever you prefer,” she said. Obviously they had a personality clash, but why cause trouble when she would be dismissed soon? Other matters demanded her attention and energy . . .

  He smiled and nodded, visibly relaxing. “In such a case, a truce would be in order. I’ve endured a very heavy schedule lately. Perhaps I was a bit short last night and just now. I suppose I am overtired and short-tempered.” He offered a devious excuse for himself, not wanting to be dismissed from a case which might draw the attention of the chief-of-staff. He could do without that trouble again. Besides, he was behaving like a fool, a spurned lover. So what if he hadn’t scored right off the bat? As he called to mind her last television interview and sensuous novel, he reminded himself she would be around for several more days.

  This time when he examined Brandy, he was very careful not to give her any reason to suspect any dalliance or misconduct. If she continued to repel him, he would find some other way to vex this vain female! He was a doctor, not a garba
ge collector! No one dared to treat him as she had done and go unpunished!

  “My suggestions are for plenty of bed rest, one week minimum; lots of fluids, anything you wish; and total relaxation. Any questions?”

  “Have the police been here yet? Do they still want to talk with me?” she asked, trying to restore some measure of calm and professionalism into their moods.

  “The nurse told me someone would come by this afternoon. If you need anything, just let me or the nurse on duty know.”

  “Fine. Thank you, sir.”

  Doctor Ross left her room with plans of an intoxicating seduction flickering through his mind. Beauty, charm, wealth, and fame were enticing qualities in a proper wife for Dr. Adam Ross. Hopefully her knight in shining armor wouldn’t return again. If Reynolds did appear for another visit, he would find some way to discourage the handsome rake. Perhaps he should read some of her novels again, just to discover what romantic entrapments appealed to her. One day soon . . .

  Brandy lay back upon her pillow as the nurse finally came back to reinsert her I.V. In her mind, she was racing along a flower-edged path in pursuit of a human Adonis. His smile could rival the sun for warmth and brilliance. The blueness of his eyes was the shade of a tranquil sea. Such strength and confidence had emanated from him. He was unlike any other man she had met, except in the pages of her books or in her own romantic dreams.

  Brandy tried to analyze Lance Reynolds’s appeal. It was a combination of all of his traits: his stirring voice, his sensual smile, his confident stance and movements, his dress, his hypnotic eyes, his strong and handsome features, his virility, his charm, and his way of making a woman know she is a woman. He radiated sensitivity and intelligence. He appeared a man who would be at ease with anyone and anywhere, a master of all situations. His clothes and manner told her he had money, probably plenty of it and a very healthy dash of power and influence. Definitely a dangerous and captivating combination.

  Brandy received another stunning surprise about midafternoon. She was absently flexing her fingers on her left hand, hoping to reduce their stiffness and chill from being forced to lie motionless for the I.V. solutions. She sighed lightly as she snuggled down into the feather pillow, feeling restive at this confinement. Her eyes were slowly sweeping the scenery beyond her large window.

  One good thing about Las Vegas was the panorama. No matter which side of a building you were on, there was always a magnificent view of mountains and desert. It was as if someone had carelessly dropped a load of buildings right in the middle of a desert which was surrounded with mountains of brown, carnelian, black, and purple. This view was a definite contrast to the pine-covered mountains of the Northeast or the deep South. These nearby mountains were utterly barren, their rough surfaces nakedly exposed to nature’s demanding elements.

  “Rugged and raw, but it’s beautiful, isn’t it? I wonder how many secrets those hills have witnessed through the ages.” The unforgettable voice softly invaded her peaceful mind, wreaking havoc upon her senses.

  She turned to find Lance Reynolds nonchalantly leaning against the beige wall next to her bed, his azure eyes lingering upon the multicolored mountains on the far horizon. She had not even heard his stealthy entry and had no idea how long he had been standing there. Those cerulean eyes lowered to Brandy’s pinkened face. She was momentarily speechless once again.

  He was dressed in cream-colored linen slacks which fit perfectly. He had changed into a soft-shouldered sports jacket. He now sported a tailored oxford shirt in a creamy shade. As before, the top three buttons had been left undone, enticing innocent eyes to that virile chest. The cream color highlighted his bronze skin, blue eyes, and black hair. If ever there had been an irresistible man born, he was standing right before her eyes this very minute. Brandy was all too aware of never having met any man like this one.

  Her gaze locked upon the gold rope chain around his neck. The head of a lion with its mane flying in an invisible wind was attached to it: a Leo zodiac symbol. She smiled and almost remarked upon the appropriateness of his powerful sign. Instead, she stated softly in a strained voice, “That’s a most unusual Leo; it’s beautiful.” Where were her creative mind and witty intelligence when she needed them the most? What did she say to this man? Why did he make her feel so nervous, so insecure, so much like a green teenager?

  He smiled lazily; her heart fluttered wildly. She absently wondered how any female executive could keep her mind on business with a gorgeous hunk like Lance Reynolds sitting across her desk. She abruptly asked, “What do you do for a living, Lance?”

  He grinned mysteriously. He shrugged his massive shoulders and casually said, “Lots of things. I mainly work with some men in the oil business. Course most folks think I simply bum around most of the time. Why?” he asked, hoping his tone would prevent further questions at this early date.

  She dared not tell him she had an overwhelming hunger to know everything about him. “I was just wondering if your trip into the Valley of Fire was on business or pleasure. Either one, it was most fortunate for me that you came along,” she confessed, a smile tugging gently at the corners of her mouth.

  He answered her question with a question, “Why were you out there alone? Sightseeing like me?” he deceptively queried to mislead her.

  She cunningly avoided his probe, “For certain, that isn’t a place to go alone or unprepared. Do you ride? Horses,” she added with a laugh as his brows knit in confusion. “I raise Appaloosas on a ranch in Kentucky. You appear to be an outdoorsman from your tan and build,” she explained her interest.

  “You might say I’ve done my share of sitting in a saddle. Fact is, I own several golden racking horses. Have any of those?”

  “No, only Appaloosas. Their colorings and intelligence fascinate me, not to mention their fierce loyalty to their owner. My father started the stables, and I caught the bug at ten. Do you live here in Vegas?” She returned to a personal subject.

  He hesitated noticeably before answering her. She was slightly confused by the flicker of suspicion and annoyance in his blue eyes. “Visiting, I suppose. Did your husband stay behind in Kentucky?” he unexpectedly asked, his expression unreadable.

  “My husband?” she repeated foolishly. “Who said I had a husband?” she inquired in a tone which unintentionally hinted at some deception in the making. She instantly chided herself for feeling like a teenager who was being approached for her first date by the boy who had been unanimously selected as “the answer to a maiden’s prayer” for the fourth time.

  “I naturally assumed you were married,” he stated softly, watching her reaction closely from behind those entrancing blue eyes which like his poker face, revealed nothing. Why did he have this strange effect upon her? If he believed she was indeed married, then why was he here now, smiling and tempting her with such dangerous thoughts and feelings?

  Suspicion flickered in her own gaze. “No, I’m not; and I never have been,” she added quickly, in case he had a dislike or disrespect for divorcées, as many men did. “You?” she boldly returned his question.

  “Me, what?” he parried her curiosity, smiling devilishly.

  “Married,” she replied, not backing down.

  “Nope, and never have been either.” For some reason, Brandy felt he was toying with her, teasing her in some curious manner. “How long have you been breeding horses alone?” he asked the suddenly wary woman.

  “About eight or nine years, since I finished college. My parents were killed in a plane crash right after my high school graduation. The ranch belonged to my father, so I inherited it a little sooner than usual or desirable,” she remarked, pain still evident after all that time. She became very quiet and pensive. Her gaze was clouded with reminiscent lights.

  “What college?” he softly asked her, wanting to restore that natural glow and spontaneous smile. This female was a puzzle that had been naggin
g at him all day; he needed to solve it and get on with his business. Her clues had surprisingly set her age at about thirty-one.

  “University of Georgia. Why?” Her gaze came back to his.

  “Just curious. What major?” At her close scrutiny of his expression, he laughed genially and gingerly added, “Just wondered what a horse breeder studies in school.”

  She returned his contagious smile. “English major, Speech minor . . . Of course, the speech didn’t help me much. I still get terrified every time there are more than five people in a group. I considered teaching Language and Literature in college, but I quickly rejected that idea. I just don’t think I could abide students like me all day,” she admitted with a merry twinkle in her green eyes.

  He pursed up his lips and knit his brow in keen study of her. “Somehow I don’t see you as the spinster school marm. Engaged?” he asked the stunned woman.

  At a sudden loss as to his underlying tone and meaning, she simply shook her head. “Career woman, huh?” he jested, eyes glimmering mirthfully as if she were the butt of some unspoken joke.

  “For now,” she agreed; her smile had slowly vanished. She wondered if she was being too open or too forward with this stranger. She suddenly realized that most of this conversation had been about her; he was very skilled at keeping the spotlight off himself. She remained silent, letting him make the next move or comment.

  He shoved himself from his negligent position and stood before her with feet planted apart and hands on hips, exuding an aura of insouciance and natural pride. He grinned broadly and headed for the door. He nonchalantly tossed a “See you later” over his shoulder, then vanished as mysteriously and suddenly as he had appeared.

  The door closed. To Brandy, it was as if he had come on some fishing trip to catch something he had missed last night or this morning. He had cast out tempting bait and lengthy line several times, keenly analyzing his catch each time he slowly reeled in her answers and expressions. He suddenly seemed to have all of the information he wanted or needed. He had turned and swaggered out as if dismissing her from his mind the moment the door closed behind him. He hadn’t seemed interested in light conversation or in getting better acquainted, only in filling in some blank or cloudy spaces. Very strange . . .