Maybe this summer, she thought. But even as the thought occurred to her, she pushed it aside. She wouldn’t be back. CJ wouldn’t want her out here. This time, just the two of them, was a special time. Once they went back to their separate rooms, their separate lives, the magic of the moment would be shattered and they’d never get it back again.
She’d never wake up in his arms again, warm and comfy. She’d never go to sleep with him again, either—knowing that she could trust him completely.
God, what was wrong with her? She didn’t want these melancholy thoughts. She didn’t want the sensation of guilt. She didn’t want to know that something was wrong and have to do it anyway. But she couldn’t see another way to save the life she’d made for herself.
She ruined everything, after all.
“Here we go,” CJ said, infectious enthusiasm in his voice. Even though she was conflicted about what she wanted to happen with him, she smiled as he helped her up onto the back of the snowmobile and took his place in front. “Now you hang on real tight,” he said before he gunned the engine.
Natalie just had time to get her arms around his waist when the snowmobile lurched forward, picked up speed and then began to fly. She buried her face against his back to protect the exposed skin but even then, she couldn’t resist peeking out as the pure white landscape zipped by them.
The snowmobile was much louder than she had anticipated and she wished it could’ve been quiet so she could have heard the wilderness around them. As they went past, birds skittered out of trees and she thought she saw a rabbit or two ducking for cover. But this wasn’t that different from them being in the living room. They were alone in this pristine world and Natalie liked it far more than she should.
He slowed and pointed to dark moving shapes in the distance. “My herd,” he shouted back at her.
“Do we need to feed them?” she yelled, remembering how hungry the horses had been.
He shook his head. “I laid out extra hay. They’ll have to dig for it, though. But they’ll be all right.”
Then they roared on for a while until suddenly, CJ eased to a stop in front of some snow-covered lumps. “Here,” he said loudly—Natalie’s ears were ringing from the ride.
“Here what?” As far she could tell, they were in the middle of nowhere. But she slid off the snowmobile and waited.
CJ trudged over to the lumps. He kicked at them until the snow went flying. Natalie gasped. The deep green leaves and bright red berries stood out against the white snow. “Holly?”
CJ nodded and produced a knife from somewhere. He cut off several large branches and gave them to her to hold. Then he trudged a little farther back to a slightly larger looking lump. Again, he knocked off more snow, revealing some evergreens. He cut long boughs and handed them to Natalie as well. “One more thing,” he said, motioning for her to set the foliage down on the back of the snowmobile. Then he held out his hand and she took it.
Together, they trudged deeper into the woods. The snow hadn’t drifted as high under the cover of the trees. Instead of being indistinguishable lumps of white, the shrubs and trees were instead dusted with a thick coating of snow. She stopped as a pair of cardinals settled onto a branch of a nearby pine tree like two ornaments hung just so.
CJ followed her gaze and saw the birds. He took a step back so their shoulders were touching again and let her watch for a few minutes as the birds hopped from limb to snow-covered limb. Nature had decorated the tree for them. It was the most perfect thing she’d ever seen.
When the birds finally fluttered off, Natalie turned to CJ and said, “I never knew it could be this beautiful.”
He stared down at her, a mysterious smile on his face. “Neither did I.”
She didn’t think he was talking about the birds. She dropped her gaze, embarrassed. Then CJ took her hand again. They moved on a little farther until he stopped and pointed at a cute little tree. “What do you think?”
“It’s lovely.” And it was. About six feet tall, the little pine tree had a nearly perfect cone shape and thick branches covered in snow.
“Then it’s yours.” She was surprised when CJ produced a small saw out of a different pocket.
“Really?”
“It is Christmas,” he said, getting down on his hands and knees and sawing through the trunk. “And what’s Christmas without a tree?”
A mix of strange emotions fluttered through her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a Christmas tree—just that one in that picture, when they were still a happy family.
But CJ was going to give her real tree—a real Christmas. One she could remember.
When the tree fell to the ground, he stood up and looked at her. “Are you crying?”
Natalie sniffed, swiping at her eyes with the back of her thick work gloves. “No,” she lied and she didn’t even care if he saw her tell.
CJ looked at her for a moment longer. “Good,” he said in that gentle voice of his. “I wouldn’t want your face to freeze on the way back.”
She didn’t want that, either. “How are we going to get the tree back? I can’t hold it and hold on to you, too.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her and grabbed the trunk of the tree. “I have my ways,” he promised. Slowly they began walking toward the snowmobile.
Once they made it back, he produced some rope from yet another mysterious pocket. In short order, CJ had tied the tree onto the back of the snowmobile. He had enough rope left over to bundle the boughs of holly and pine together. Natalie tucked the bundle under one arm and with the other she held tight to his waist. Then they were screaming across the countryside toward his home.
When they got back into the house, it was noticeably warmer. She struggled to get the thick gloves off her hands and the hood off her head. “I’d hate to see it really cold out here,” she mumbled, trying to kick off a boot.
The next thing she knew, CJ was in front of her. “Here,” he said in that husky voice of his. He held her by the shoulders and made her stand up straight. “Are you too cold?”
Her face, her hands, her feet—yes. But other parts of her?
CJ pushed down the hood and pulled the mask over her head. The rush of air around the back of her neck made her shiver. “A little,” she said, but anything else she wanted to add died on her tongue when he reached up and began to pull the zipper of her suit.
He was unwrapping her. Slowly. Oh, yeah—some parts of her were beginning to burn. She wanted to shift her feet to take some of the pressure off of her center, but she didn’t want to break the spell.
“You never did tell me the other way of warming someone up.” She was surprised to hear her own voice come out sultry.
Because she wanted this. Not the story, not her ratings—the man. She wanted CJ selfishly, all for herself. She didn’t want to share him.
He pushed the snowsuit down her shoulders and then he stepped even closer, skimming his hands over her waist and her hips, shoving the warm, heavy suit down her legs. “If someone is too cold,” he said as his hands kept right on skimming. He fell to his knees and lifted her left leg up. “Then the best way to warm them up is with body heat.”
She’d seen enough movies to know what he was talking about—two people with as little clothing as possible tucked under blankets.
She swallowed and said in her most innocent voice, “How do you do that?”
But he didn’t see her tell because he was pulling the suit off of one foot and then the other. Then, slowly, he climbed to his feet. His pupils were so black she almost couldn’t see the brown or the green in his eyes and he was breathing hard. But he didn’t say anything. He just stared at her.
She couldn’t take it. She reached for his zipper and said, “Maybe you should show me.”
But before she could get him unwrapped, he grabbed her hands. “The water heater should have caught up by now. You go first.”
She bit back the disappointment. What was wrong? She wanted him. He wanted her. The last few
days had been as close to perfect as she was capable of imagining. So why wasn’t he giving in?
Then a new thought occurred to her. The shower she’d been in had been more than big enough for two people. Water and soap and hands everywhere—that would warm her up. Hell, just thinking about it was making her hot. “You could join—”
He cut her off. “I’ll get the tree set up,” he said as he turned away. “Go on.” It was not a request. It was an order.
She opened her mouth to ask what she’d done wrong. Why didn’t he want her? Was it just because of her morning show or was it something else?
That insidious voice in the back of her head whispered, Of course he doesn’t want you. No one does.
But she didn’t want to listen to that voice. Not today, when things had been so perfect and there was the promise of decorating Christmas trees and movies and...something more. Something wonderful.
“Go on,” CJ repeated, motioning with his chin toward the stairs.
She didn’t answer for a long, long moment—but finally, common sense won out. “Thanks. A shower would be perfect right now.” It was only after she said it that she saw he was staring at her throat.
Crap.
Eight
For the second time in three days, CJ was forcing himself not to think about Natalie Baker naked in his shower. And if he thought it had gone poorly the first time, it was an absolute flipping disaster today.
Because the woman in his shower today seemed like a completely different woman from the one he’d dragged into this house a few days ago. Instead of belligerent and cocky and hell-bent on using her beautiful body as a weapon, the Natalie he’d come to know was someone else entirely. Soft and vulnerable and easy to be around. Someone who didn’t mind shoveling a lot of snow and could see the beauty in a pair of songbirds in a tree.
It could still be a trick, he told himself as he dug out the tree stand and got the tree set up. All of this sweetness could be part of her larger plan to weasel information out of him.
That’s not what his gut told him, though, and up until this point in his life, his gut had been a fairly reliable indicator of who to trust and who to avoid.
And what was he thinking? Unzipping her snowsuit for her? Peeling it off of her body like he had a right to touch her? Because he didn’t. He couldn’t.
Okay, when she looked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes like he was this rare specimen just because he did something any decent man would do—yeah, that hit him midchest. And, sure, when he’d woken up this morning with her body curling into his, all warm and soft and sleepy, it’d hit him in other places.
He shouldn’t have kissed her on the forehead this morning. He shouldn’t have helped her out of her things this afternoon. And at no point did discussing getting naked and under the covers for “warmth” become a good idea.
Because that’s what she was right now. Naked. In the guest room. In the shower. Hot water sluicing over her bare back, her breasts, as she ran the soap over the pointed tips—
He cleared his throat and adjusted his pants. He had crap to do. He had to focus. There was the coming revelation that he was the third Beaumont bastard heir. There was the Firestone Christmas party tomorrow night. There was a tree that needed tinsel, dammit.
He would have to call Zeb, he decided as he headed down to the basement—without a flashlight this time—and grabbed one of the bins of ornaments. The man owed him a favor. After all, it was Zeb’s fault that anyone knew about CJ in the first place. The least his half brother could do was offer some sort of PR backup. CJ would call Zeb and somehow get Natalie back to Denver. And after that...
After that, it was back to a long, cold, dark winter out on the ranch. He’d tend to his horses and try to keep his cattle from freezing to death and watch a lot of movies and drink a lot of beer.
Alone. His thoughts drifted back upstairs, where Natalie was no doubt drying off and putting on fresh clothes. Was it selfish of him to wish that she could stay here for a little while longer? Maybe through the New Year? He might be able to plow the drive, but towing her car out of that drift without ripping the axle off of it would be next to impossible without a major warm-up. And she wouldn’t want to leave without her car, right?
She could stay, he decided. It really wouldn’t be that bad. He could help her get more comfortable around the horses, show her other parts of the ranch—tomorrow, he really did have to go check on the cattle. And then, after they’d done the day’s chores, they could...
He dropped his head and jammed his hands onto his hips. He didn’t want the images—Natalie in his arms, naked and bare to him. He wanted to stroke his fingers over her skin and see how her body reacted. Would her nipples tighten with his touch? What kind of noises would she make if he touched her?
This whole day had been an exercise in painful lust. It wasn’t right that a woman could make a snowsuit and ski mask look sexy, but she did. Standing out there in the woods this afternoon, watching that pair of cardinals coo and sing to each other—she had been the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And the look on her face when he cut down the Christmas tree for her?
She pulled at something in him and it was getting harder and harder to resist.
First things first. Tomorrow night was Christmas Eve and he was pretty sure that, barring another weather disaster, he would be able to make the trek into Firestone for the annual Christmas party. While she was still upstairs, he made his phone calls. Everything was still a go—it might be a lot of horse-drawn sleighs and snowmobiles, but they were going to have a parade for the kids, come hell or high water.
Then, quickly, he left a message for Zeb and Daniel. “Natalie Baker has found me. I’m not sure what she’s going to do. I’m trying to convince her that I’m not a story, but just in case, be ready.” He wished he could tell them what to be ready for, specifically, but he had no idea.
Then, knowing he was running out of time, he pulled her phone out of his back pocket. He’d kept it with him at all times for the last several days. It was tempting to turn it on—almost too tempting. She had said that no one would miss her for Christmas and he wasn’t sure if he believed that. If he turned on her phone, would there be notifications from someone who was thinking of her? A father, a boyfriend—any friend? Or would it be more of those horrible tweets and notifications? No one should have to put up with that.
That was what he was afraid of, he realized. It wasn’t just that people would know who he was—it was that they would treat him like they treated her.
He didn’t turn on her phone. He didn’t want to let those trolls into his house in any way, shape or form. Instead, he slid her phone back into his pocket just as he heard her footsteps coming down the stairs.
What he saw took his breath away and he couldn’t even say why. She was wearing another pair of jeans with a shirt and a sweater over it, plus thick socks. There shouldn’t be anything sensual about her—but there was. It was all in her face, he realized. The way she looked at him did some mighty funny things to him. The tingling started low in his back and raced along his limbs until the only thing that would soothe it would be to pull her into his arms, just like she’d been when he woke up this morning.
“Hi,” she said almost shyly.
Her gaze met his. There was something about her that glowed—something that hadn’t been there the first time he’d seen her in the feed store. She didn’t have that glow when she was on television. It was so hard to even see that woman when he looked at the Natalie standing before him. It didn’t seem possible that they were the same person.
“Better?”
She dropped her chin and looked up at him through thick lashes. “I’m still a little chilly.” As if to demonstrate this, she wrapped her arms around her waist and gave a comical little shiver.
He knew what that meant—that was an invitation. If he walked over and put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her against him, she would go willingly. Happily, even. There was a big
part of him that wanted to do exactly that. He knew he had reasons why he shouldn’t—although those reasons were getting harder to remember all the time.
“Come stand in front of the fire.”
She notched an eyebrow at him, as if she were disappointed he hadn’t taken her up on the challenge. But she did as he asked. Or started to, anyway. Because when she looked past him, she saw the tree and her whole face lit up.
“Oh,” she breathed, her eyes wide with surprise and joy. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Wait until we decorate it,” he told her. Would it be so wrong if he kissed her? Would it be such a terrible thing if he let himself pretend, even for a little while, that reality wasn’t waiting for them once the snow melted?
Could he trust her to kiss and not tell? Could he trust himself with keeping it to just a kiss?
She turned to him, her eyes luminous. He didn’t think he could and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He’d kept himself apart from everyone but his family for so long that he had forgotten what it felt like to have a connection with another person. But he felt that now.
“Do we have to decorate it?” she asked. “It’s so pretty just the way it is.”
He couldn’t help himself. He stepped in close and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “It is, isn’t it?” But he wasn’t looking at the tree when he said it.
She held his hand against her face. “You’re still cold,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Was he? Because he didn’t feel cold. All he could feel was the warmth of her skin against his. “I don’t mind.”
Unexpectedly, a shadow crossed her face. “Oh,” she said with disappointment. Then she stepped away and looked back at the tree. “I understand.”
“Understand what?” Because he hadn’t meant anything by that—at least, nothing to make her shut down on him.
She walked over to the bins of ornaments and popped the lid off one. “It’s fine,” she said in a voice that made it clear it was anything but.
Rich Rancher for Christmas Page 9
