by Cindy Kirk
“I won’t.” She rested a hand on his bare forearm, scorching him with her touch. “I can’t.”
“Okay,” he said equitably, his voice calm even as his heart jackhammered against his ribs. “Say what you want to say. Then we’ll drop it.”
“I’m thirty-four years old, Keenan. I’ve achieved all of the goals I’ve set so far. One by one I’ve crossed them off.”
“Next up is finding a husband,” he said, unable to keep the censure from his tone.
She lifted her chin. “That’s right.”
“And you really believe Winn Ferris can make you happy?”
“I don’t,” Mitzi said. “That’s why Winn is off the list.”
Keenan pulled his brows together, not sure he’d heard correctly. “List?”
“Husband list,” she clarified. “I believe in being organized and methodical in my approach to a goal.”
“A list,” he repeated and shook his head.
“It makes sense,” she insisted. “Take Winn for example. The chemistry was definitely not there. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt because he was perfect in so many other ways. I thought it might be me. But—”
“There’s chemistry between us,” Keenan interrupted before she could bring up what had happened in the kitchen. “Where do I rank on your list?”
The question popped out before he could stop it.
“You’re not on it.”
Keenan ignored the sharp pain in his gut and kept his tone conversational. “Why not?”
“You want to have your own plane, your own charter service eventually.”
“True. But what does that have to do with your list?”
“You’ve got the drive and ambition to make that happen. But right now you’re where I was several years ago, working long hours for not a lot of money but with eyes focused firmly on the brass ring. You’re not ready to settle down.” A shadow stole across her face but was gone so quickly he wondered if he’d only imagined it. “I’m looking for a guy who has grabbed hold of his dreams and is ready for a wife and a family. Right now. Not someday.”
“It makes sense,” Keenan said grudgingly.
“Though I meant no harm, I realize now that I was wrong to use you the way I did. I hope you can forgive me.” She tilted her head back, her eyes meeting his. “I hope we can continue to be friends. Your friendship means a lot to me.”
She looked so worried, it took everything he had not to pull her into his arms and comfort. Instead he chuckled. “Does anyone ever stay mad at you?”
“Oh, definitely,” she admitted with a rueful smile. “But I hope not you.”
“I appreciate you telling Steve you trusted me to fly you to Delano.”
“I meant what I said.” A wistful quality filled her voice. “Given the choice, there’s no one I’d rather be with than you.”
Once she reached the small health center in the center of town, Mitzi was ushered to the back. She quickly discovered the schedule of patients she’d been given had been a “preliminary” one.
“I planned to fly back at three,” Mitzi told the nurse, her brows pulling together at the long list of names.
“We’ll do our best to get you out of here by then, doctor.” The older woman, who wore the starched white uniform reminiscent of a bygone era and a cap, as well, gestured to a door. “The first patient is in exam room two.”
Before entering the room, Mitzi texted Keenan and informed him they might not be ready to leave as early as they’d hoped.
By three o’clock, the waiting room still teemed with patients waiting to be seen, some of whom Mitzi knew had driven several hours for their appointment. When she contacted Keenan to inform him they’d have to delay their flight back, he warned a storm was moving in.
She finished seeing the last patient at five. Outside, the blue skies had turned an ominous gray. When she reached the airstrip, she got the bad news. There were more storms between Delano and Jackson Hole. Though it hadn’t yet started to rain in Delano, because of the wind gusts and lightning, flying wasn’t recommended.
“We’ll have to spend the night.” Keenan glanced around the inside of the small hangar. “I can bunk here. We’ll have to find a place for you.”
Mitzi stared at the concrete floor, wondering just where he planned to sleep. After making several calls, Mitzi discovered the only motel in town was full but found a B and B with one room left.
Keenan walked Mitzi to the Country Dreams B and B, a quaint two-story with lots of gingerbread molding. The yard, surrounded by a white picket fence, held more wildflowers than grass. A path of stepping-stones led to the steps of the wraparound porch.
The proprietor, a stout woman in her early fifties, opened the door before they could knock and greeted them warmly. She pressed a key in Mitzi’s hand, apologized for the need to hurry off and advised tonight she was making dinner for the guests. It would be on the table in thirty minutes.
Keenan turned to leave but Mitzi took his hand and pulled him up the stairs with her. When they reached the room, she motioned him inside.
He smiled. “Let me guess. You need me to make sure there are no monsters hiding under the bed?”
She shoved him none too gently into the room, then shut the door and fixed on a stern look. “Look, we both know it’s going to be miserable for you in that hangar.”
“Have you ever slept in a cell?”
She ignored the comment and gestured to the lovely though decidedly feminine room. To the brass bed topped with a wedding-ring quilt. To the lace doilies and bud vases with flowers scattered throughout the room. “This would be much more comfortable.”
He quirked a brow. “Why, Dr. Sanchez, are you inviting me to sleep with you?”
“Sleep being the operative word,” Mitzi said drily. “Be sensible, Keenan. Stay. Have a nice dinner. Enjoy a good night’s sleep. We’ll head out in the morning, relaxed and refreshed.”
A crack of thunder punctuated her words. Almost immediately, waves of rain began beating against the windowpanes.
She shifted her gaze back to Keenan and cocked her head.
He smiled, a lazy lifting of the lips that did crazy things to her insides. “I may be many things, but I’m not a fool.”
Capturing her hand, he brought it to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “I’d be delighted to spend the night with you.”
Keenan followed Mitzi down the stairs to the dining room and wondered just when he’d lost his mind. Hadn’t he decided it would be best to keep his relationship with Mitzi strictly professional?
Granted, there was that blasted electricity crackling in the air whenever she got within ten feet of him, but she’d been right. He had plans for his life. Before he could even consider becoming involved in a serious relationship, he had goals to pursue. And obtain.
But to spend the night with a beautiful woman and not touch...a man would have to be a saint. No one, absolutely no one, had ever accused Keenan McGregor of being a saint.
Still, the room was warm and dry and he’d get two good meals out of the deal. Surely he could keep his hands to himself for one night.
“Keenan is a friend,” Mitzi was telling Mrs. Thompsett, the proprietor, “and an excellent pilot. He flew me here.”
“Isn’t that nice?” Mrs. Thompsett, as round as she was tall, smiled warmly at him before refocusing on Mitzi.
Though Mitzi still wore the black pants and white shirt she’d had on this morning, seeing her without her lab coat made her look less like a doctor and more like a desirable woman.
“My neighbor Mrs. Clara Wilks had been looking forward to her appointment for weeks.” Mrs. Thompsett’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Did you recommend surgery?”
“Everything concerning any patient I see is confidential.” Mitzi made a zipping motion across her mouth. “My lips are sealed.”
Still, Keenan noted she said it with such good nature that Mrs. Thompsett didn’t take offense. Instead the older woman�
�s eyes twinkled. “I’ll call her after dinner and get the scoop.”
She gestured to a large oval table topped with a lace tablecloth where several people already sat. “Have a seat and get acquainted.”
After introducing themselves, Keenan pulled out Mitzi’s chair then sat beside her. It didn’t take long to learn that one of the couples was in town visiting friends while the other were tourists passing through.
Mitzi chatted easily. Keenan had heard the doctor called a chameleon, a woman who changed to fit her circumstances. He’d observed that firsthand when he’d seen her with Winn after the symphony.
Keenan had to wonder who Mitzi was when she was with him and who she’d be tonight. And which one was the real Mitzi Sanchez.
Dinner ended up being a pleasant affair. The other couples were interesting and the food top-notch. From fresh garden salad accompanied by flaky dinner rolls to beef Wellington, everything was melt-in-your-mouth good.
Though it probably wasn’t apparent to anyone at the table but her, Mitzi felt Keenan’s eyes on her. When she waited to eat until the hostess had picked up her fork, he also waited.
She understood. For years she’d read and studied proper etiquette. If she was going to rise above her initial station in life, she had to be prepared. That preparation included knowing the correct way to set a table, what utensils to use and how to choose the proper wine.
The last wasn’t an issue for Keenan. Unlike Mitzi and the others at the table, her pilot chose iced tea over wine. She sipped her glass of red and turned to him.
“I’m warning you. After all this delicious food, I may be over the weight limit tomorrow.” She gazed at Keenan over the rim of her cut-crystal wineglass. “Be thinking of what we can leave behind.”
“I’d say we could take a walk and work some of it off, but—” his gaze shifted to the large bay window currently being pelted by sprays of rain “—I think we’re stuck inside for the evening.”
Jolene—of Sig and Jolene—must have been listening because she tapped Mitzi on the arm. “We were talking before you two sat down.” Jolene glanced over at the other couple, who’d introduced themselves as Perry and Liz. “We thought it’d be fun to play a few hands of cards after dinner. Interested in joining us?”
Mitzi wasn’t good at cards. She didn’t know very many games, and those she had played she barely remembered. Yet, she swallowed the excuse that had begun to form on her lips. What was her alternative? Go up to the bedroom with Keenan? And do what?
Though she’d acted as if sleeping in the same room with him was no big deal, even as she’d issued the invitation, Mitzi had known she was playing with fire. There was no denying the sexually charged chemistry between them. Common sense told her the less time they spent in the room alone, the better.
Sleep with him. No strings.
The thought tempted, teased and was deliberately and harshly discarded.
Not an option, she told herself.
“It should be loads of fun,” Liz added, her smile warm and friendly.
“What card game are you playing?” Mitzi asked.
“Pitch,” Jolene said promptly. “Since there’re six of us, we could play ‘Call for your partner.’”
They might as well have been speaking a foreign language.
“I only know how to play poker,” Keenan admitted.
Mitzi wrinkled her nose. “I’m afraid—”
“Don’t you two worry none.” Jolene waved away their concern. “It’s super easy to learn. My goodness, anyone who can make it through medical school or fly a plane can learn to play a simple card game.”
It was close to eleven by the time Mitzi and Keenan stood, despite the protests of the other couples, to head upstairs.
Though the rain continued to beat a relentless rhythm against the windows and the sides of the house, inside it remained dry and cozy.
“Simple game, my ass,” Keenan muttered once they left the dining room.
Mitzi offered him a sympathetic look. “Forget Jolene’s whining. Bidding seven on an ace then calling for the three wasn’t reckless.”
Keenan unexpectedly smiled, looking surprisingly pleased with himself. “If she could have gotten to me with that number two scoring pencil, I think she’d have stabbed me.”
“My impression,” Mitzi told him as she stepped aside and he unlocked the bedroom door with the old-fashioned key, “is that Jolene likes to complain. Still, seeing her give you the stink-eye was amusing.”
Keenan grimaced and dropped into a nearby chair. “Playing was fun for a while. Toward the last I was ready to be done with it. There seemed to be no end in sight.”
“You deliberately went set.” The realization washed over her. “And took Jolene down with you.”
“The fact she had the three was icing on the cake.” He kicked off his boots, propped his feet up on a hassock topped with needlepoint. His lips spread in a wide grin. “No need to thank me.”
Impulsively, Mitzi crossed the room and brushed a kiss across his lips. “Thank you, anyway.”
His hazel eyes focused on her as she sauntered away. “Hey, where are you going?”
“Shower.” She scooped up a white nightie from the bed. “Knowing we didn’t have anything to sleep in, Mrs. Thompsett gave you pajamas and me a nightgown.”
“I don’t wear pajamas,” he called out.
“You do tonight,” Mitzi said and pulled the bathroom door shut.
Chapter Thirteen
The warm water from the shower relaxed Mitzi and the rose-scented lotion soothed her skin. She slipped into the white nightgown, relieved to discover it wasn’t quite as sheer as she first feared.
Of course, the safest thing would probably be to sleep in her clothes. Safe. She snorted. How ridiculous to have reached the ripe old age of thirty-four and be apprehensive about spending the night with a man.
If they had sex, it would be because she decided to have sex with Keenan. And that, she told herself, opening the bathroom door, wasn’t going to happen. Not only for her sake, but for his, as well.
Keenan passed her on his way to the bathroom. Mitzi noticed the pajamas Mrs. Thompsett had loaned him were still on the bed.
Mitzi scooped them into her arms. “Heads up.”
He whirled and the blue pj’s hit him in the face.
“Don’t come out of that room without those on.” Her tone held a warning edge.
Keenan grinned, lifted a hand in a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
Mitzi was propped in bed, reading a Home and Garden magazine she’d found on the bedside table, when Keenan returned several minutes later wearing the pajamas.
His towel-dried hair curled lightly above his collar. She caught a faint floral aroma as he strolled by with the clothes he’d been wearing in his hands.
“Love the new scent.” Her smile widened when he turned and scowled. “Such a manly fragrance.”
“All the soaps were the same,” he told her, his tone filled with disgust. “Roses.”
He placed his folded clothes atop the antique dresser inlaid with burl.
“I happen to like the scent.”
“That makes one of us.” He plucked at the two-sizes-too-large pajama pants he wore. “And these are a joke.”
“Aren’t we Mr. Cheerful?”
Rain hammered against the roof and a crack of too-close lightning shook the house.
Keenan’s gaze jumped to her face. His tight expression eased into a smile. “You’re right. I could be stretched out on cold concrete in the hangar.”
“Wait until you feel the mattress.” Mitzi patted the spot beside her. “Heavenly soft.”
The look Keenan shot her was clearly puzzled. “I thought I’d grab a pillow and stretch out on the floor.”
“Are you crazy? Why would you do that?”
His gaze searched her face. “You don’t mind sharing the bed?”
“Not as long as I get my half.”
Keenan didn’t say another word. He flipp
ed off the main light and hopped in beside her. The only light in the room came from a fussy bedside lamp that cast a golden glow.
Outside, thunder continued to rumble, but the torrent on the roof had turned soft and soothing.
It had been a long time since she’d slept with anyone, Mitzi realized. She and her sister had shared a bed for years. But once she’d moved away from home, she’d insisted on her own space.
She’d never slept all night with the men she dated. Having a man beside her all night had always seemed so...intimate.
When Keenan was in the shower, she’d decided it was time to break herself of the hang-up.
After punching the pillow several times, Keenan laid back and closed his eyes, his lashes dark against his cheeks.
Good, Mitzi thought, just as she hoped.
She flipped off the lamp, settled in beside him and slept.
Several hours later she awoke to find an arm flung over her and Keenan’s hand resting over her breast. She started to slip out from under his hold, when his fingers began to tease her nipple into a peak.
His touch felt so good she couldn’t bring herself to move away. Keenan continued to tease, to caress, even as his eyes remained closed.
Her nipples strained against the thin fabric, eager for the touch. When his hand moved to her other breast, she repositioned herself to give him better access. He turned her in his arms and kissed her long and hard. The flame in her belly began to burn, hot and filled with need.
“Keenan.” She breathed his name.
He tugged at the hem of her gown. “Take this off.”
Mitzi told herself to stop, to take a breath. To think. Was this what was best? Was this what she wanted? She wasn’t sure about the answer to the first, but she was certain about the second.
She began unbuttoning the front of his pajama top, but he grew impatient and jerked it over his head. It hit the floor along with his pants only seconds later.
