Open Invitation?

by Karen Kendall

  Dan raised a brow at her. “What? Surely you don’t expect me to dress in the powder room when you’ve already seen every part of me?”

  “Shh. But Jane’s right down the hall! And we just discussed returning to an all-business relationship.”

  “No, you discussed it. I just listened.” And Dan put on the new shirt, unavoidably flexing all that delicious chest and shoulder muscle at her. “Give me the first pair of pants, please, Lil.”

  She thrust them at him and turned around before he dropped the ones he was wearing. She just didn’t need to see him in his boxers right now, especially since they had that convenient little peephole that often revealed a man’s goods.

  When she turned back around, he smirked at her. She pursed her lips.

  Bit by bit, Dan assumed a mantle of style and elegance that he wore surprisingly well. Shannon had done him proud, and everything fit him superbly with the exception of one pair of shoes.

  Dan flexed his feet in them and grimaced. “These are downright painful. They’re not wide enough.” He sat down in Shannon’s yellow leather office chair and pulled them off, beautiful Italian lace-ups in a rich chestnut-brown leather.

  Lil found herself riveted by his strong, broad hands—still scarred in spite of the small repairs the manicure had made—and his powerful thighs.

  Her very uncooperative brain refused all her efforts to repress the memory of how she’d sat spread-eagled on his knees in the Mustang. And how he’d felt, sliding into her inch by inch.

  Dan sat up after replacing the shoes in their box. He quirked an eyebrow. “Penny for your thoughts, Lil.”

  Oh, no. You couldn’t even give me a hundred dollars for these thoughts. Because they’re starting to get X-rated. “Oh, I was just thinking of some errands I have to run in the next couple of days. Dry cleaners, post office, you know.”

  “Yeah. I always look lustful when I think about the post office, too.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “No need. I happen to find being coveted by a beautiful woman very stimulating.”

  Lil crossed her arms over her chest. “I do not covet you, Mr. Granger.”

  “Oh? Well, I’m afraid the rest of me is attached to that one part that you were, uh, drinking in. It doesn’t snap on and off.”

  “I don’t covet that, either! And you’re utterly impossible.” Lil glared at him, tucked her hair behind her ears and looked at her watch. “We’ve got to leave for the stables, now.”

  “Oh, joy.”

  She exited Shannon’s office and went into her own to get her pocketbook and keys. Shannon’s dirty bouquet still sat on her desk, hidden by her suit jacket.

  Dan followed her in, patting various pockets. “Did I leave my shades in here?”

  “I haven’t seen—”

  “Oh, there they are, on your desk.”

  Lil wanted to get out of there as fast as possible, so she moved to the door. Despite her rapid exit strategy, Dan said the words she least wanted to hear.

  “Here, don’t forget your blazer.”

  She closed her eyes and winced, her back to him.

  “My, my, my,” said Granger, his voice strangled with amusement. “What do we have here?”

  14

  “I CAN EXPLAIN that,” said Lil, who wished that the floor would open up and swallow her for brunch. She didn’t even care if it burped afterward.

  “You can?” Dan’s voice exuded fascination. “Oh, I can’t wait to hear this.”

  Lil stared at the Day-Glo orange monstrosity and its happy attachments and wished a certain blonde a gruesome death. Perhaps clad in shiny pink polyester and blue gingham accessories. And definitely in cheap, nasty shoes. Flat ones.

  I hate you, Shannon. Lil closed her eyes and tried to relieve her feelings by adding a lousy haircut, a bad dye job and oversize, suntan-colored panty hose to Shan’s burial outfit.

  “Would you believe that a marketing company selected my name randomly as a single woman and asked me to test the product?”

  Dan considered it and then shook his head. “No.”

  “How about believing that it isn’t mine?”

  “Nope. It belongs to you, or you wouldn’t be the color of a West Texas sunset.”

  Lil cleared her throat. “Okay. Then would you believe that Shannon put it on my desk as payback for the rice cakes I left in the Krispy Kreme box?”

  He rubbed at his chin. “Maybe. That woman is evil.”

  “Yes, she is. And I need your help to come up with something worse than this in order to pay her back.”

  “Done,” he said. “I still owe her for giving away my suitcases. But in the meantime, would you have any interest in, uh, trying out Big O there with company?”

  “No!”

  He sighed. “You’re no fun.”

  “Just because I’m not perverted doesn’t mean I’m no fun!”

  Dan stared at her and laughed. “Lil, playing with your boyfriend and a couple of toys isn’t perverted. It’s pretty harmless, in fact.”

  “You’re not my boyfriend!”

  His face shuttered. “Right.”

  “You’re my client.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And…and we’re late. We have to go.”

  “After you, your highness.”

  “Don’t call me that, please.”

  “My apologies, milady.”

  Lil badly wanted to stomp her foot, but she controlled herself. Ladies did not stamp their feet, nor did they scream, nor did they kill their clients or business partners even when sorely tempted.

  They got into the Mustang and headed out toward the stables. Dan looked pensive as they drove, a half smile on his face. As they turned into the gates of Central Pines Stables and progressed down the white-fenced driveway he tried one more time.

  “That, um, bumpy attachment sure looked like fun. You sure you don’t want to get together and—”

  “I’m quite sure. Now stop it, Dan. This is starting to feel like harassment.”

  “Sorry, darlin’. We professors emeritus of Uncivilization 101 can get too enthusiastic over our subject matter at times.”

  Lil made no comment as he parked the car next to the large concrete pad with rails where the horses were bathed. A huge dun that Dan said was a Holsteiner cross gelding was tethered there while a stable hand rinsed soap off his massive back.

  His eyes were sleepy and the only movement he made now and then was a casual lip-twitch or a swat with his tail.

  They got out of the car as the stable hand ambled off for something.

  “You gonna disappear into the office again, afraid of a little equine odor?”

  “No. I like animals. I’ve just never been exposed to…” Lil searched for a proper word. “To…”

  “Horseshit?”

  “Dan! Language.”

  “Yes, I used some.” He grinned unrepentantly and chucked her under the chin.

  She wasn’t used to chin-chucking, either. “I’d never been exposed to horse by-products before, so I’m afraid that I found it disgusting.”

  Dan looked just beyond her, at the big dun animal, and hooted with laughter.

  She turned. “What’s so funny?”

  “Big Boy, there—well, he likes you. And he’s very relaxed.”

  It took Lil a moment to register that the equine was dangling its quite enormous reproductive organ in the most complacent, unashamed way!

  She couldn’t help staring at the monstrous penis.

  Dan hooted again and she closed her eyes. “That is…that is repellent!”

  “Catherine the Great didn’t think so. You are so damned cute when you’re shocked, Lil.”

  “Where did it come from? He didn’t have that a moment ago—I would have noticed it when we drove in!”

  “Horses have a sheath, Lil. He just happens to have dropped his Mr. Happy down because he’s feeling relaxed.”

  “I thought you said he was a gelding!”

  “He is. But th
at just means they cut off the poor bastard’s balls, not his tool.”

  “Well, can’t you persuade him to retract it again?”

  Dan got a good laugh out of that.

  “I’m so glad to be a source of amusement for you,” she said in acid tones.

  “Chill, Lil.”

  Dorothy spied them from the barn and came over to join them and show Dan where his assigned horse was.

  “Tricks again?” he asked.

  “No. This time you’ll be on Sonata. She’s a sweetheart, very smooth gaits. She’s the chestnut in stall number eighteen. You know where the tack room is?”

  Dad nodded.

  “Okay, then. I’ll see you in the ring in just a few minutes.”

  Lil dusted off a spot on the bleachers and prepared to watch the lesson. Dan took off his cowboy boots and slid his feet into the polished black English riding boots, which looked wrong on him in so many ways. He still refused to wear the breeches, and she was oddly, secretly relieved. She didn’t know if she’d laugh or cry to see him in full chase regalia. Again, she wondered why Dan cared about impressing his mother, father and sister. He was so irrepressibly Texas alpha male that it just didn’t fit his character.

  And he had such a chip on his shoulder about the English that it would be borderline comical—if the chip weren’t rooted in a soul-deep pain. He’d been a kid abandoned by his mother, who’d taken off for greener English pastures. Was he here with Lil to prove that his mother had made a mistake? That he was every bit as good as this man Nigel, her husband?

  Lil was afraid so. And that realization made her heart twist and turn over. Under all that cocky Western bravado and sexual aggression beat the heart of a boy who’d been rejected, found wanting.

  Despite the incongruity of the English riding boots on Dan, and the smaller European saddle, even Lil could tell that he was a damn good rider. Yesterday’s fall had been an aberration. For today, once he got his heels down and his hands into position, he moved as one with the horse. At a canter, which was what Dorothy called the gait midway between a trot and a gallop, Dan’s seat didn’t come out of the saddle an inch and his lower back seemed fluid, supple, absorbing all the shock of Sonata’s hooves hitting the ground.

  Sitting on the bleachers and watching him ride, Lil began to get aroused despite her best efforts not to. His long legs astride the horse, the power of his hands, the way the bulge at his groin sat the saddle.

  What was wrong with her? And why did she picture him astride her, in her soft bed at home?

  She truly had to get beyond this. She’d walked a few steps on the wild side, at least her pretty tame version of it. She’d finally had some incredible sex. So she needed to move on. Because getting attached to some cowpoke who lived on a Texas ranch was just…silly. Immature.

  She was a modern woman, not the heroine of a fairytale romance. A pity, but there were realities to be faced, and her happily-ever-after did not include this cowboy client with the magic mouth and hands.

  She watched Dan take several fences on Sonata, murmuring to her and patting her for a job well done. He’d even brought a couple of apples for her, which still resided on the dashboard of the Mustang. He was a good man. He was an incredibly sexy man. He just couldn’t be her man. After all, he was leaving for his sister’s wedding at the end of a week. And then she’d never see him again.

  Would you have any interest in trying out Big O with company?

  Not really. Because it would be such a poor, plastic substitute for you.

  She shamelessly ogled his butt as he posted past her side of the ring, and felt heat bloom between her thighs. Great, Lil. You’re jealous of a horse, now? Oh, Nana would be so proud.

  Nana would never know. Lil massaged her temples. And thank God for that. She did miss her so very much…but there was an utterly awful kernel of relief within her, relief at finally, after so many years of being the model granddaughter and not wanting to cause Nana any trouble— Oh, God. Could she even think this without being struck down by lightning?

  Lil gulped. She tried to shove away that horrible tremor of relief that she now finally had the freedom to be her own person. To not have to express gratitude and obedience every day to the woman who had raised her since she’d been a colicky infant.

  No matter how sweet and loving Nana Lisbeth had been, she’d never let Lil forget that she’d been an unexpected burden to an old woman. That Lil owed her pretty behavior and respect. Nana, in her gentle way, had been an exacting task-mistress and a benign dictator.

  DAN LOUNGED on his hotel bed, watching ESPN and trying not to think about Lilia and the hot-orange vibrator. He wasn’t under any illusion that she’d touch it, much less use it, but a man could sure fantasize.

  A man could also get blue balls by doing that, and he was damned if he’d jack off like some horny teenager. However, he had an irritating, persistent erection and he needed to make it go away before it deranged him.

  What was the best way to deflate a real bastard of a hard-on? Dan sighed. He reached for his cell phone and called his mother.

  Sure enough, before he’d even gotten past the country code, his fat lead pipe had wilted into overcooked linguine.

  “Hallooo?” she answered herself on the third ring.

  Great Scot—wherever were the servants when ya needed ’em? “Haaa, Mama. How you doin’?”

  “Daniel! What a lovely surprise.”

  I’ll bet. Did I catch you painting your nails? Oh, no—your manicurist would do that for you. Dan quickly bypassed the sordid memory that he’d had a manicure recently, too. He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Listen, I was wondering what to get Claire for a weddin’ gift.”

  “She’s registered at Harrod’s, darling. Get her, oh, I don’t know—the silver punch bowl, perhaps?”

  “Does anybody still use those things?”

  “Yes, of course, Daniel. In finer homes.”

  Homes unlike the one I live in, eh? “Well, all right, then. I’ll do that.”

  “Are you working with Miss London, Daniel?”

  Not, are you happy? Are you healthy? What’s new in your life? But “are you going to embarrass us?” “Yes, I am, Mama. And she’s doing wonders with even such raw, rude material as me.”

  “There’s no need for your sarcasm, Daniel.”

  “How’s Claire?” he asked, changing the subject. “She gettin’ any preweddin’ jitters?”

  “Claire is fine. Are you going to work on your accent?”

  His blood started to simmer. “Mama, I was born in West Texas, same as you. And I don’t know how much time it took you to speak like the queen, but I’ll bet it was more than two weeks.”

  A long pause ensued. “Well, it’s of no consequence. You just take after your father’s side of the family.”

  Dan’s blood came to a full boil and he gritted his teeth, clenching the tiny phone so hard that if it had been alive, it surely would have squeaked. “Is that what you’re gonna tell people? That my unfortunate speech patterns come from Dad, who was just a passing weakness in your life? The trailer trash you left behind? That’s beautiful, Mama.”

  “Daniel, I don’t like the tone you’re taking with me. Now, I’ve got to toddle on, my dear. I’ll tell Claire you sent your love. Ciao.”

  And just like that, the line went dead. Dan resisted the urge to stomp on his cell phone and smash it into a couple hundred little pieces.

  “The friggin’ rain in friggin’ Spain fell gently on the friggin’ plains.” Dan got off the bed and headed for the shower, his third that day after the stables and then the dancing lesson with the French-fried Fruitcake.

  Jolly friggin’ good, then. He was going to another uptight white tablecloth place with Miz Lilia. Maybe he’d toss the dinner rolls at unsuspecting patrons, and suck the wine right out of the bottle. Maybe he’d tie his napkin around his neck like a handkerchief on a dog.

  Muttering, Dan stripped off his clothes and got into the shower. There was no way he was g
onna remember all Lil’s BS rules. What he needed was for her to come with him and keep him out of trouble.

  He froze, the soap clamped under his left armpit. Of course. According to the fussy formal invite, he was welcome to bring a date to this blasted wedding. Who better to bring than Lilia London? Now, all he had to do was convince her that she wanted to take a short holiday to Britain.

  15

  DAN MADE SURE to be on his very best behavior that evening. He did not bring up the orange dildo. He did not tease Lil about anything. He told her how beautiful she looked.

  He carefully placed his napkin on his lap, ordered from the wine list with aplomb and even ate the nasty peppery weed things in his salad without complaining.

  He did not drink from the bottle or throw the dinner rolls. He even tried to speak more like Lilia and less like himself.

  At last cappuccino and dessert arrived. He stirred the weird little crystallized sugar stick around in the coffee and pretended that he wasn’t impatient as hell for the damn thing to go ahead and melt before next year. He lifted the cup with his pinky curved out, and watched her watch him with silent approval—but also puzzlement.

  Finally she asked, “Dan, you’re doing such a lovely job tonight that I have to wonder one of two things. First, are you feeling all right? And second, is there something you want from me…besides sex?”

  Well, there goes my smooth segue. Damn it.

  Dan eyed the slice of chocolate torte in front of him for a moment before meeting her gaze. It tapered into a point as sharp as her question. The thin wafer on top of it was as dark as her eyes. He found her more tempting.

  Step carefully and don’t make a hash out of this, man.

  He quirked his mouth and leaned back slightly in his chair. “As a matter of fact, I have a proposal for you.”

  Her eyes radiated wariness.

  “A decent one.” He smiled.

  She didn’t.

  “You’ve taught me a lot, Lil. You have given this diamond-in-the-rough a lot of polish. But there’s only so much you can do with a cowboy in a couple of weeks. I can dress better and stop saying ‘ain’t,’ but I’m still no Cary Grant. And my mo—uh, my family—they tend to get my goat without half-trying. Which can be socially dangerous. So I’m wondering if you’d like to take an all-expenses-paid trip to England…as my date for the wedding.”