by Judy Duarte
“I’ve never gone to New York,” he said. “Brighton Valley must be a huge culture shock for someone used to a city that’s open twenty-four hours a day.”
“That’s for sure.”
Their boots continued to crunch on a light film of grit on the sidewalk that lined the empty street, reminding her just how huge the difference was. Still, there was something appealing about the community, as well as the people she’d met so far.
When they reached the drugstore and the stairwell that led to Ray’s apartment, his steps slowed. Then he withdrew his hand from hers and motioned for her to go first.
As she started up the lit steps, she wondered what the evening would bring. More disclosures, she supposed.
Would he kiss her again? Probably not. Once they were completely out of sight from any passersby, it wouldn’t be necessary.
Still, she couldn’t help but hope that he would, and by the time they reached his front door, her heart rate kicked up a notch.
Ray pulled out his keys, slipped them into the lock, then let her in. Once inside the small apartment, he hung his hat on the hook by the door.
She scanned the sparsely decorated living area, again tempted to do something to help him add a little color. In one of several small apartments inside of an old brownstone in Greenwich Village she called home, she’d done her best to brighten up the drab rooms by using vivid shades of red, yellow and blue, then adding a splash of purple here and there.
Even her furniture back home—a selection of black, glass and chrome—was modern in style.
Still, she supposed there was no need for him to go all out on the decor of the place when he spent only occasional nights.
She wondered what his ranch was like—and whether he’d ever invite her to go out there with him. She’d really like to see it.
“I can put on a pot of coffee or decaf,” he said. “I also have a bottle of merlot.”
Coffee probably was the safest bet, but she liked the idea of kicking back with him and having a glass of wine.
“The merlot sounds good,” she said.
“I think so, too. Why don’t you have a seat while I open the bottle.”
Catherine made her way to the leather sofa and settled herself near one of the armrests, leaving room for Ray to join her. Then she watched him move about in the kitchen area as he removed a wine bottle from the pantry, two goblets from the cupboard near the sink and a corkscrew from the drawer.
He wasn’t at all like the men she’d known in Manhattan, although he was pure eye candy, no matter how he was dressed. His dark hair, which was mussed from the Stetson he’d worn earlier, was a bit long and curled at his collar. She supposed some women might think it needed a trim, but she wasn’t one of them. In fact, she didn’t think she’d change a thing about the man.
Broad shoulders tapered down into a narrow waist, and—
Before she could continue her perusal, he turned and smiled at her.
Did he realize she’d been making an intense assessment of his lean, cowboy body, appreciating both his form and his style?
She hoped not, yet her cheeks flushed warm.
He carried the wineglasses to the sofa, then handed her one. “Here you go.”
When she thanked him, he took a seat beside her.
The lamplight cast a romantic glow in the room, but it was the handsome cowboy who’d set her heart spinning, her hormones pumping and her imagination soaring.
She remembered something one of her friends had told her in Manhattan. Once you meet another man—even if it’s just a one-night stand—you’ll forget all about Erik Carmichael.
At the time, Catherine hadn’t been interested in anyone else—not even to go out for a cup of coffee.
But what about Ray? Would he make the perfect transitional relationship?
She took a sip of wine, hoping to shake the thoughts that began to plague her. She couldn’t very well suggest that they have an affair while she was in town, could she?
No, that would have to be Ray’s idea.
“You know,” he said, “I’d like to make a toast to the best hired fiancée I’ve ever had.”
Catherine smiled, then clinked her wineglass against his. “And to the best male lead an actress ever had.”
Did she dare tell him how easy her role had been? How tempted she was to stop playacting and see what developed between the two of them?
Not that she’d want to actually be engaged or marry him one day, but would making love with him be out of line? After all, if the man’s kisses turned her inside out, what would a full-on sexual encounter be like?
Just the thought of it shot a warm, intoxicating buzz right through her, and she hadn’t taken more than a couple of sips of wine.
“I’ll sleep on the sofa tonight,” he said. “You can have my room.”
“That isn’t fair.”
“What isn’t?” A boyish grin tugged at his lips, and a spark of mischief lit his eyes. “Did you want to fight me for the sofa?”
“Maybe,” she said, teasing him right back.
Truth was, she’d seen his room—and the size of his bed. It was plenty big enough for both of them.
She told herself that she was just being thoughtful when she said, “There’s no reason for you to sleep out here and be uncomfortable. I don’t mind sharing the bed, if you don’t.”
The mischievous glimmer in his gaze disappeared, and something else took its place—something intense. Something masculine.
“It’s not like we’d do anything other than sleep,” she added by way of explanation. Yet the moment the words left her mouth, she realized she wouldn’t be doing much sleeping if he were lying beside her, just an arm’s reach away.
Goodness. What had she done?
She wished she could blame it on the wine, but her thoughts had taken a sexual turn the moment she’d entered his house.
When they finished their first glass, Ray poured them a second.
“Just half for me,” she said. “Thank you.”
After filling his glass, he walked over to the stereo and turned on the radio to a country-western station. She didn’t recognize the artist or the song, but she liked the music.
“This is really nice,” she said, lifting her glass and studying the deep burgundy color in the lamplight.
Yet she was talking about more than the music or the wine. She meant this moment, this man.
She was tempted to suggest something they might both regret. And with a man who was her employer. Wasn’t there something unethical or inappropriate about that?
“You know,” she said, “I’m going to need something to sleep in tonight. Do you have an old shirt and a pair of shorts I can use?”
“Sure.” He placed his goblet on the coffee table, then strode to the bedroom.
She heard the closet door open and shut, followed by a bureau drawer.
When he returned, he held a large maroon T-shirt that sported a white Texas A and M logo on the front, as well as a pair of black boxer shorts. “How’s this?”
“Perfect.”
“I’ve also got a new toothbrush you can use,” he added. “It’s in the right-hand drawer in the bathroom.”
“Then I’m all set.” She got to her feet and took the makeshift nightwear he’d given her. “Thanks.”
“You may as well take the bathroom first. You’ll find clean towels hanging on the rack, in case you’d like a shower.”
She offered him an appreciative smile, then headed for the bathroom, wondering what he’d say if she offered him a lot more than a smile upon her return.
Chapter Seven
While Catherine was in the bathroom, Ray walked to the window and looked out into the darkened street below. He’d been both surprised and pleased when she’d agreed to stay with him tonight. But that had nothing to do with the long drive back to the ranch and everything to do with the fact that he wanted to spend more time with her, to have her to himself for a while.
He actu
ally looked forward to being around her, and not just because she was a pleasure to look at. He enjoyed talking to her, too. There was something very appealing about her, something alluring that went beyond sexual fascination.
Maybe it was due in part to the fact that he was safe with her. She understood that he didn’t want to get romantically involved with anyone right now, so she hadn’t pressed him for anything other than friendship.
Of course, if things were different, if she planned to stay in Brighton Valley—and more important, if he could be sure that the persona she’d revealed to him wasn’t just part of an act—he might even ask her out on a real date, complete with soft music, candlelight, roses and wine.
But even if she was just as sincere, considerate and sweet as she appeared to be, she was going back to New York one of these days. So he’d just have to enjoy their friendship and whatever time they had left.
Now here they were, tiptoeing around all the sweet dreams and bedtime stuff.
The water shut off in the bathroom, which meant she was probably climbing from the shower and reaching for a towel, naked and wet.
That particular vision was a lot more arousing than it ought to be, but then again, the tall, leggy blonde was a beautiful woman who also seemed to have a good heart.
To top that off, he’d been serving a nearly two-year term of self-imposed celibacy, which was really starting to eat at him now—big time.
He tried to shake it off—the sexual thoughts, the arousal, but he wasn’t having much luck.
Had she dried off yet? Had she slipped on his shorts and his shirt?
She’d mentioned that they could sleep together tonight, although he supposed she was only being practical. But the moment she’d suggested sharing the bed, his thoughts had taken a sexual detour.
And that’s exactly where his thoughts were right now.
He could almost see her in the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and facing the fogged-up mirror. In his mind, he stood behind her, damp from the shower, too. His hands reaching for the edge of the towel, tugging it gently, removing it. Revealing that lithe dancer’s body in the flesh.
He was going to drive himself crazy before she even left the bathroom.
As a soft, country love song began to play on the radio, setting off a romantic aura in the room, his libido began to battle with his good sense. In spite of his better judgment, the idea of making love with Catherine grew stronger by the heartbeat.
He probably ought to change the station and find something with a livelier beat, but he didn’t make a move toward the stereo.
Instead, when the bathroom door opened, he turned to face the woman he’d envisioned naked just moments before.
Her platinum-blond hair had been swept up into a sexy twist, revealing a ballerina’s neck, just begging for hot, breathy kisses.
She smiled when she spotted him, her eyes lighting up. He probably should have responded with a platonic grin of his own. Instead, he allowed his gaze to sweep over her, amazed by those long, shapely legs that could wrap around a man and make him cry uncle. Or aunt. Or whatever else she had in mind.
“It’s a little steamy in there,” she said.
Hell, it was even steamier out here. And while he had no business making any kind of sexual innuendo, he couldn’t help speaking his mind. “Seeing you like that…” His gaze sketched over her again, making it difficult to continue without acting upon his arousal.
“I can change into something else,” she said, glancing down at the shirt she wore, “if you’d be more comfortable. Or…”
Or what? Was she going to suggest that they let nature take its course this evening?
Sure, why not? he wanted to say.
She didn’t continue the open-ended option, but the way she was looking at him—which had to be the same way he was looking at her—didn’t leave a whole lot of doubt that her thoughts had taken a sexual turn, too. But hey, why shouldn’t they?
He could throw out the idea, he supposed, laying it on the table—or wherever else they might end up. But what would he do if she told him it wasn’t in her job description?
Then again, he might kick himself later for letting a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity slip through his hands.
“How long has it been for you?” he asked, stepping out on a limb that swayed under the weight of the question.
“Since I’ve had sex?” She gave a little shrug. “Quite a while. How about you?”
Had he actually been celibate for two long years?
After he and his ex had split, it had seemed like a good way to avoid getting caught in another bad relationship before he had time to get over the last one. But now?
He couldn’t imagine going without sex for a minute longer.
They stood like that for a moment—too far away from each other to touch, yet connected in a way he hadn’t expected.
“I know that a short-term affair wasn’t part of our bargain,” she said, “but I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”
At that, his pulse rate shot through the roof, and his mouth went dry, then wet. Before meeting Catherine, he hadn’t really missed sex all that much. Not that he’d planned to give it up for good.
But now? When the opportunity of a lifetime was knocking?
He took a step forward, then another. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it, either.”
“It might actually help us both move along in the healing process,” she said.
There was no doubt about that. Just the thought of taking Catherine in his arms had his heart spinning—and all in one piece—strong, vibrant, whole.
“We’ve definitely got chemistry,” he said as they met in the middle of the room.
“That’s true. If the kisses we shared were any indication of how good it would be between us…”
He finished the thought for her. “Then making love is going to be off the charts.”
She nodded.
Still, he didn’t make a move.
And neither did she.
When she bit down on her bottom lip, he wondered if it was a shy reaction to what was going on between them or if it was… No, it wasn’t part of her act. Neither of them were playing a role right now. This—whatever this was—had to be real.
For a while, he’d wondered where fantasy ended and reality began when it came to his feelings for her. But when push came to shove, he had to admit that he’d quit playacting about the time of their very first kiss.
In fact, he’d even become intrigued by the idea of dating her and… What? Pursuing her?
Maybe so—at least, that was his game plan tonight.
When Ray opened his arms and Catherine stepped into his embrace, he relished her clean, fresh-from-the-shower scent, as well as the feel of her soft breasts pressed against his chest.
He realized she must be entertaining a similar game plan because she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew his lips to hers. As their tongues met, their kiss exploded with passion, with heat.
She tasted of peppermint, of sunshine and dreams, and he couldn’t get enough of her. His hands sought, stroked and explored every uncovered inch of her, but still he wanted more, needed more. He reached for the hemline of her T-shirt, lifting the fabric, revealing her bare waist, her taut belly, her perfect curves… .
When his hand reached her breasts, he cupped the soft mounds, caressed them. As his thumb skimmed across her nipple, her breath caught.
Damn. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. They were actually going through with this, and he couldn’t be happier—no matter what tomorrow brought. And by the way Catherine was responding to his touch, to his kiss, he had a feeling she felt the very same way.
* * *
Caught up in an amazing swirl of heat and desire, Catherine leaned into the rugged cowboy and gripped his shoulders as if she might collapse if she hadn’t. And who knew? Maybe she would have.
Never had she wanted a man so badly, so desperately. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear that they’d been made for
each other—their bodies, their hearts, their souls.
She kissed him back for all she was worth, wanting him, wanting this.
There might be a hundred reasons they shouldn’t allow themselves to get carried away tonight, but tell that to her raging hormones. Right now, all she wanted to do was let him work his cowboy magic on her and take her someplace she’d never been.
As the kiss ended, they clung to each other, their breaths ragged, their hearts pounding.
“Let’s take this to the bedroom,” Ray whispered against her cheek.
She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she slipped her hand in his and allowed him to take her anywhere he wanted to go.
They padded across the hardwood floor, and moments later, when they reached the bed, he took her in his arms again and kissed her until her thoughts spun out of control, until nothing else mattered other than this man and this night.
His hands slid along the curves of her back, then he pulled her hips forward, against his erection. She arched forward, showing him her need, as well as her willingness to make love to him.
When she thought she’d melt into a puddle if they didn’t climb into bed and finish what they’d started, she ended the kiss, then she removed the T-shirt he’d loaned her. As she let the garment drop to the floor, she stood before him in nothing but the boxers he’d loaned her.
His gaze caressed her as intimately as his hands had done just seconds earlier. “You’re beautiful, Catherine.”
Her only response was to reach for his belt buckle and to begin removing his clothing, too. She needed to feel his bare skin against hers, and she couldn’t wait another minute.
Together, they removed his shirt, and she marveled at his broad chest, his six-pack abs.
Catherine wasn’t a novice at lovemaking. She’d had lovers before—two, in fact. But neither of those men had been built as strong and sturdy as Ray, whose muscles were a result of both genetics and hard work.
“You’re beautiful, too,” she said.
After they’d drawn back the spread and slipped into bed, Ray showed her how a cowboy loved a lady, creating a memory she’d never forget.
