“I dated a little. But nothing long-term or serious. Until Dominic.”
“Tell me about him—or is that off-limits?”
It wasn’t a subject she liked talking about. But she did like that Seth was up front with his curiosity and not using any kind of subterfuge to get answers out of her.
“No, it’s not off-limits,” she said, deciding in the moment that that was true. “Dominic Salvadi. He’s a hotshot criminal defense attorney.”
“I’ve heard of him. He’s in the news. He seems to end up representing any high-profile case that comes up in Montana.”
“Yes, he does.”
“How did you meet him? Or did I miss that you were accused of committing a heinous crime that he defended you for?”
“I swear it wasn’t me who murdered my last landlord, and I don’t know who did,” Lacey said theatrically.
Seth laughed as he drove out of Northbridge proper and headed for his ranch. “That’s a relief to this landlord,” he joked.
“I met Dominic at a party. We had a friend in common.”
“Love at first sight?”
“No, we just sort of hit it off. He asked me out and it went from there, the way those things do—first it was a dinner, then there was a concert a week later.”
Although she didn’t remember caring as much about going a week without seeing Dominic as she’d cared this last week about not seeing Seth…
“Anyway,” she continued, shooing that thought out of her mind, “we dated for a year, then moved in together. We lived together for two years and were engaged for the last six months of that time.”
“But no marriage. What happened?”
Lacey shrugged, but they were driving through the dark countryside and she doubted that Seth had seen it. “I broke up with him.”
“Just like that? Not a big deal—”
Is that how she’d made it sound?
“Breaking up was a big deal—we lived together, owned things together, had wedding plans, our future mapped out. It wasn’t as easy as I just don’t want to see you again.”
“But you seem nonchalant about it now.”
“I didn’t catch him in bed with someone or anything like that. I just…” Another shrug. “It was just things…”
“Things,” Seth parroted, to prompt her to go on.
“Two things,” Lacey said tentatively, unsure if her reasons ever seemed strong enough to other people when she shared them.
But after considering it a moment, she decided that it was not altogether bad to let Seth know what her reasons were.
“On the surface, the issue was that Dominic had absolutely no interest in football,” she said then. “He hadn’t seen a handful of games in his entire life, he was nearly football illiterate, and he couldn’t have cared less about it.”
“And that was a problem?”
“I didn’t care so much about it—in fact, it was kind of a relief to get away from football sometimes. But my father is Kincaid Corporation, and he eats, sleeps, breathes, lives and dies for the game. I needed Dominic to show just a tiny bit of interest in it the way anyone would need the person they’re with to show an interest in something their boss is obsessed with, the way you’d hope someone you’re partnering with for life would do with your father.”
“And this guy wouldn’t?”
“Absolutely not. He would not be bothered. He wasn’t interested in football and that was it. End of story. Even though football is everything my family is about.”
“Are you saying that it was something you specifically asked him to do for you?”
“Because it was important to me both for my job and to be a part of my family.”
“And he flat-out refused.”
“Flat-out,” Lacey confirmed. “Which made my life more difficult with a father who also happens to be my boss. It was just one more step outside of the boys’ club for me.”
“And essentially you felt like the guy you were with was doing damage to your career because he wouldn’t give a little.”
“And just a little was all I was asking so he and I wouldn’t be relegated to the sidelines when it came to my father. But like I said, that was just the surface issue, and what I started to see was that there was an even bigger problem with Dominic—like the fact that the longer things went on, the more Dominic showed signs of being like my father.”
“Signs of being like your father?” Seth echoed her words. “And you didn’t appreciate that?”
Lacey laughed wryly. “You think that someone who reminds me of my father would be more appealing to me?”
Seth shrugged. “Sometimes that happens.”
Lacey laughed at the notion. “I’m not neurotic about my father. I want to be a major player in the Kincaid Corporation. I deserve to be. I have a rightful place in the business I cut my teeth on, and I’ve been denied any real opportunity until now solely because I’m not a man. If anything, it’s just that I’m competitive and I’m determined to prove myself and earn the rank that got handed to my brothers on a silver platter.”
“Seems like competition was probably ingrained in you from the minute Morgan Kincaid became your father.”
Lacey couldn’t refute that.
“So the bigger issue with this Dominic guy was that he reminded you of your dad,” Seth prompted. “How so?”
“Dominic started to talk about how he didn’t want me to work after we got married. How he could provide for me and he wanted me at home, taking care of his houses, his kids. And when it came to my little clothing line, he let me know he saw that as my hobby, but he didn’t think that should be kept up, either.”
“You hate it when your father calls you little girl—I saw you flinch. Little clothing line pushed that same button,” Seth guessed, impressing her with his perception.
“It did. And Dominic’s whole attitude, the whole male-superiority thing, just made me look at him and see my father, and it was a huge turnoff. There was no way I was getting into a marriage with someone who had the same view of women that my father has.”
“You’ve already had to fight that for too long,” Seth agreed as he pulled onto the road that led to his property.
“So that was it for me. I cared about him…” Her voice went quiet again. “I loved him, and it wasn’t easy to call it off. But it’s bad enough to have my father think what he’s always thought of me. I didn’t want to marry that same narrow-mindedness. I didn’t want to fight it in a marriage, too, or have kids—potentially daughters—and raise them with a father like that.”
“I think that was a really wise choice.”
Lacey laughed as he drove around the main house and into the garage. “I don’t know how wise I am. Stubborn—that’s been said of me. But no one has ever called me wise before. At least not in a good way.”
“But you’ve never killed a landlord, so how bad can you be?” he teased her, turning off the engine.
Getting out of the car laid that subject to a natural rest. They walked together to the guesthouse in a moment of silence.
Not until Lacey had unlocked and opened the door did Seth say, “Sooo…you made it. An entire afternoon and evening without working.”
Again Lacey laughed. “And I didn’t even miss it—maybe there are a few lazy bones in this body.”
He glanced downward at the body in question and smiled appreciatively. “I definitely don’t think we can say anything negative about the body,” he muttered.
Lacey didn’t respond. Instead she repeated what she’d said when they’d left the dance. “I did have a really good time, though.”
“And there’s still a day to go.”
She made a face. “Yeah. Any chance we could do tomorrow the way we did today and I could have the morning to do paperwork again? I
didn’t get it all finished this morning.”
“I suppose. But only because I have animals to feed and water, a field to check on—”
“Oh, I get it—it’s okay if you need to work,” she goaded.
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t go trying to make me into your old man or the lawyer. I’m not saying what I do is more important than what you do. I’m just saying that what you do, you do too much of. To the exclusion of everything else. There needs to be a balance.”
He leaned a forearm high up on the door frame and switched his weight to one hip. The change of position brought him in closer to Lacey, who was standing in the threshold.
“I had a really good time, too,” he admitted, his voice deeper, more intimate.
His bright cobalt-blue eyes peered so intensely into hers that the two of them, and that moment, were suddenly all there was. And after her taste of being in his arms in public, on the dance floor, Lacey nearly ached with wanting to be in his arms again now—without anyone else around.
It was that urge that brought her hand up to his cheek.
He covered that hand with his own, curving his fingers around it, pulling it down to hold at his chest—his broad, hard chest—freeing himself to lean forward and capture her mouth with his.
Lacey closed her eyes and let herself drift off toward what seemed like heaven.
There was a familiarity between them now. A familiarity that left few reservations. Their lips parted without hesitation, freeing the way for his tongue to make an almost instant appearance, which Lacey welcomed.
She let her other hand rest on his chest, too, moving in nearer, tilting her head more and presenting a better angle for their kiss.
Seth wrapped his arm around her to bring her up against him as commandingly as when he’d led on the dance floor.
She slipped her hand out from under his in order to raise her arms up and over his shoulders, pressing her breasts against his chest—something she’d longed for all evening. Her nipples turned to steely little pebbles that craved even more.
She wondered if Seth could feel them. His shirt wasn’t heavy, and her chiffon tank top wasn’t much of a barrier, either—even with the built-in bra and even if it did seem to her like armor.
He might have been aware of what was going on with her because he moved in closer, holding her tighter and taking them both over the threshold and slightly into the guesthouse. His mouth opened even wider over hers, and his tongue began to play a sensuous game of cat and mouse.
He spun her around then—as if they were still dancing—and Lacey found herself with her back to the wall beside the door, trapped between it and Seth in the loveliest way.
One of his hands went up the side of her neck and into her hair, as both of hers did a survey of his expansive back—all the hills and valleys formed by muscles made of steel. She dug her fingers into them, wanting that shirt out of her way.
It came free of his jeans without much trouble, and that seemed like an invitation to her. So she slipped her hands underneath the shirt and savored her first contact with his warm, satiny skin.
Her hands glided over every inch of that back. She trailed her fingers along his spine. She fanned them out over his massive shoulders. She massaged the curve of his rib cage.
And he must have liked it, because their kiss turned hotter, sexier, more demanding with every stroke.
His hand began a descent from her hair, and hope erupted in Lacey.
Keep going… Keep going… Keep going…
He did, from her neck to her shoulder. From her shoulder to her upper arm. From her upper arm to the side of her waist.
Too far!
Her tongue gave his an impudent little jab that made him smile even as he gave as good as he got.
And then his hand rose up her side to the outer swell of her breast.
It was unintentional, but on their own her shoulders drew back and pushed her chest out, revealing what she wanted all too blatantly.
But still he took his time, continuing to kiss her into near oblivion, to hold her to him.
Then that hand at the very edge of her breast finally came around front, finally engulfed her and gave her nipple the curve of his palm to nestle into.
It felt so good. Too bad her tank top was in the way.
Lacey brought her own hands around to the front of his shirt, spending a moment enjoying the feel of his honed pectorals, of his taut male nipples, before she let her hands traipse down his flat belly.
Ooo, it was tempting to just keep going. Inside his waistband, behind his zipper…
But she stopped herself and instead finessed his shirttails from his jeans in front, then fanned her arms and in one outward motion unsnapped all the buttons of his shirt.
That elicited a rumbling sort of chuckle in his throat as Lacey’s hands rose again to his chest and delivered the full hint that she wanted him to get past the barrier of her shirt, too.
A hint he wasted no time in acting on. He quickly slid his hand under her tank top, under the shelf of a bra, engulfing her very engorged flesh in the heat of his unfettered grasp.
The man could dance.
The man could kiss like no one she’d ever kissed before.
But oh, what he did with that hand!
There were wonders to be had at Seth’s touch. Gentle and tender. Tougher, rougher just when she needed it to be. Teasing and toying and playful. He kneaded her breast, he massaged and rubbed, tickled and tugged, circled and subdued and altogether worked Lacey into a frenzy of desires that sprang to life throughout her body.
Her head was back against the wall, her mouth plundered by his even as she did some plundering of her own. Her spine was arched to press her breasts into his grasp. And as her body began to crave even more she kicked aside her sandal and let her bare foot climb slowly up his calf.
And before she knew it, she was partially straddling his thigh and on the verge of taking things further….
Which was oddly when—for no reason she understood—she remembered that this Founder’s Day weekend was supposed to be just a way to fill some time, that she’d sworn to herself not to let it become more than that. With Seth. To keep in mind why she needed not to let it become more than a time-filler. With Seth.
And this—and where she wanted this to go from here—was more than a time-filler. Much, much more.
So much more that it suddenly sent a ripple of uneasiness through Lacey.
She could be risking everything to let this go any further…
“Okay, okay, okay—we have to stop,” she said breathlessly after tearing away from their kiss.
“We do?” he asked in a raspy voice that enticed all by itself.
“We do,” Lacey decreed before she could think twice about it. She knew that to hesitate was to give in to what her entire body, her entire being, was screaming for.
Still he gave it one more try, kissing her fervently but also sweetly and intriguingly at once, and giving her breast a deep, earnest press that made her wish that he’d never take his hand from there.
But that ripple of uneasiness continued to shimmy through her; she couldn’t ignore it.
“No, I mean it, we really do have to stop…” she insisted when he ended their kiss a moment later.
One final, lingering press of her breast, and he slipped his hand out from under her shirt. Lacey couldn’t help the moan of disappointment that went with it.
“You’re sure?” he asked after he’d kissed her again, glancing down at her leg still wrapped around his, keeping him in place despite what she’d said.
Lacey gave a chagrined laugh. “Yeah,” she said, taking her foot off his calf and nearly melting at the feel of his hand on the back of her thigh when he clasped it to help ease her leg down.
Another kiss—such
a good, good kiss—and he backed away, putting distance she regretted between them.
“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Lacey could only manage to nod. He sidestepped to the open door of the guesthouse and went out.
She took a deep breath and told herself she’d done the right thing.
But she also turned so she could watch Seth walk around the pool.
He hadn’t snapped the buttons on his shirt closed, or tucked in the tails she’d pulled free, and watching those shirttails flap around his hips, knowing that the front of his shirt was open, exposing that chest she’d felt but hadn’t actually seen, only made her want to call to him. To get him to turn around so she could see it.
But before she’d done that he reached the main house and let himself in through the French doors.
Then she got her wish when he turned around to close the door. Through the glass she saw just a strip of that chest, of his flat belly and the treasure trail of dark hair that went from his navel to disappear behind the zipper of his low-slung jeans…
Oh, but the man was gorgeous, and Lacey nearly came away from leaning against that wall. She nearly shot out her own door to join him across the way, to leap into his arms, to put herself against that chest again and allow her body what it craved so much she was in a private little misery all her own.
But in the end, reason prevailed. She knew she had too much at stake, so she merely groaned, reached across the open doorway and put the door in a death grip to close it.
Then she shut her eyes and wondered if anything was worth feeling the unquenched desires and longings that were all she was left with…
Chapter Nine
“Another early phone call, and this one on a Sunday—that doesn’t speak well of your Saturday night or your social life,” Seth goaded his brother Cade, who called at seven-thirty the next morning.
“Yeah, well, I don’t hear a female voice in the background there, either, so my money is on you spending last night alone, too,” Cade countered.
Alone and in near agony, Seth wanted Lacey so bad he’d been up half the night pacing and looking out at the guesthouse, willing her to change her mind and come to him.
The Camden Cowboy Page 13
