by JoAnn Ross
Rachel glanced down at the dark green bottle he held in his right hand. His left was holding two long stemmed tulip glasses. “Is that for us?”
Cooper stared blankly at the champagne as if he’d forgotten its existence. “Oh. Yeah. There’s an open bar at the pre-banquet reception, but I thought it might be nice to have a drink in private before we go downstairs.”
“That’s a wonderful idea. I’d love it.”
“I’m glad.”
When he still didn’t budge, Rachel felt a heady surge of feminine power.
“Would you prefer to drink it in my room or yours?” Her lips curved in a slow, seductress smile as uncharacteristic as her sexy, skin-tight dress.
Who knew the Widow Hathaway’s legs went on forever? And how the hell had she gotten into that dress? More to the point, Cooper wondered, how would he ever get her out of it?
He glanced past her at the bed, which seemed to have grown even larger, taking up most of the room.
“If I come in right now, Rachel, I might not be able to leave.”
“What about your award?”
“What award?”
She’d fastened her hair up into some sort of complicated twist that, along with those pearls gleaming at her ears and between her breasts made her look New York sophisticated and totally out of his league. But that didn’t stop all Cooper’s blood from flowing south when he imagined plucking the pins from her hair, allowing it to rain over her bare shoulders and breasts as he peeled her out of the black dress.
Hell. In another minute, he was going to need oxygen.
“Poor Cooper.” Her husky Kathleen Turner laugh wasn’t helping his runaway libido. “Come inside and we’ll see if we can restore your memory in time for the banquet.”
Intent on showing her that while he might be country, he wasn’t a total hick, he peeled the shiny gold foil off the top of the bottle, removed the wire covering the cork, and deftly opened the champagne. The cork came out with a whisper of vapor.
“You weren’t late,” she admitted what they both already knew as he poured the champagne into one of the flutes and handed it to her. “I was just getting impatient. And lonely for you.”
She gave him another of those come-and-take-me-big-boy smiles that hit directly in his solar plexus. Then shot a direct path to below the belt. “In fact, I was tempted to try to bribe the bellman for a key to that door between us.”
“It wouldn’t have done you any good.”
“Oh?” Rachel arched a dark brow. “You think not?”
Call him perverse, but he loved it when she pulled out that Eastern seaboard society tone. Partly because he’d already figured out that it was like one of those silk blouses she’d worn when she’d first arrived in town. Something she could put on and take off at will.
“I know not. Because I beat you to it.” Cooper grinned as he pulled the key from his jacket pocket.
“Gracious.” Her eyes widened with feigned shock. “What would all those law and order people downstairs say if they knew their medal recipient had committed bribery?”
“One look at you in that dress, and they’d totally understand. Hell, any guy in the place would’ve done the same thing.”
“While I shudder at the thought of compromising the integrity of Oregon’s law enforcement community, I believe I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Good. Because that’s precisely how I meant it.” When she would have lifted her glass to her lips, he caught her wrist. “I think a toast is in order.”
“That’s a lovely idea. What did you have in mind?”
What did he have in mind? How about her naked, rolling around that king sized bed that was taking up half the room? Or in the shower, surrounded by steam, with warm water streaming over that perfumed porcelain flesh.
Against the wall.
On the floor.
And that was just for starters.
He blew out a long breath. “To us. And this weekend together.”
“To us,” she agreed, lifting her glass. There was a faint chime as the rims of the flutes touched. Looking into her lovely eyes, he could see visions of his own sexual fantasies reflected back at him. “And the weekend together.”
“And finally alone,” Cooper said. “With the exception of the crowd downstairs in the banquet room.”
As they stood there, neither moving toward the door, a burst of fiery hormones zinged back and forth between them.
“Speaking of all those people waiting for the guest of honor, I suppose we’d better get going,” she said, that unfamiliar siren’s voice suggesting that she was no more eager than he was to leave this room.
She took a sip. When the sight of the crescent imprint on the rim of her glass had him imagining those siren red lips on the aching hard-on he needed to get under control before they got downstairs, Cooper tossed back his own champagne and decided that if they didn’t leave now, they probably never would.
34
The next two hours flew by in a blur. Rachel was vaguely aware of meeting a number of individuals, including the governor and a state senator, all of whom had nothing but praise for Cooper. The inn’s banquet room was lovely and the autumnal bouquets on the tables were as beautifully arranged as any she’d seen back home.
No. River’s Bend was her home. Its people becoming as close, some even closer, than those she’d left behind.
In the past, whenever she’d attend a catered event, she paid close attention to every detail. But tonight, although the meal catered by Chef Madeline Chaffee’s Lavender Hill Farm restaurant was excellent, Rachel could have been eating cold franks and burned beans for all she noticed.
All her attention kept drifting toward Cooper. On the way the lines fanned out from his green eyes and the appealing creases that deepened in his cheeks when he smiled at her. And on the gold dusting of hair on his tanned wrists beneath the starched white cuffs of his shirt as he tasted the decadently rich salted caramel sauce that had been spooned over the apple tart served for desert.
Rachel was thinking how much she’d like to scoop him up with a spoon when a familiar, dark-haired woman wearing a tall white hat appeared at their table.
“Well, if it isn’t everyone’s favorite superhero.” When Cooper stood up, Chef Madeline Chaffee greeted him with a hug.
“I’m neither super nor a hero,” he insisted.
She patted his cheek. “You can keep saying that, but no one who knows you will ever believe it. Especially all these people who’ve shown up to watch you receive your award.”
She backed away, just a bit, and shared a warm smile with Rachel’s dinner companions. “I hope you all enjoyed your dinner.”
As everyone around her was quick to assure the celebrity chef that it was the best meal they’d ever had, Rachel was momentarily tongue-tied. Not only had the chef been the star of two popular Cooking Network food shows, Rachel had bought all her cookbooks and made every dish in them. The chef branded cookware was one of the few things she’d brought to Oregon with her from her former life. The woman was, to Rachel, what Julia Child had been to previous generations of eager cooks.
“So,” Chef Madeline said, turning toward Rachel. “You’re the new owner of the New Chance. I heard about the fire. What a terrible thing to have happen.”
“Actually, it turned out to be an advantage,” Rachel shared what she’d already decided. “The café was definitely in need of remodeling; this just allowed me to get it right.”
“Dan tells me it’s looking great. I visit River’s Bend two or three times a year. I’ll have to drop in next time.”
“I’d love to have you visit.” Though the idea of cooking for this culinary icon was more than a little intimidating.
“Terrific. Maybe we could cook together. If you don’t mind sharing your kitchen with another chef.”
“Having had a catering business back east hardly qualifies me as a chef.”
“Never knock catering,” Chef Madeline said easily. “It was a ch
ance meeting with a Today show producer at a baby shower luncheon I catered that led to my having my first show.”
“I know. I attended that luncheon.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. Not only were the flavors of your lobster salad amazingly layered, it was exquisitely presented. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve served it myself with a couple small tweaks.”
“Talk about your small worlds, and of course you should make it your own.” The chef’s smile was quick, warm, and genuine. “I’ve set up a cooking school at my grandmother’s herb farm. Perhaps, once the New Chance gets up and running, you’d be willing to come up to the coast again and give a demonstration.”
“I’d love to.” Rachel’s mind flashed into warp speed as she considered what she could possibly create to live up to her idol.
“Terrific. I’ll give you a call after the first of the year, and we’ll set up a time.” Chef Madeline swept another warm smile over everyone before moving on to the other tables.
Later, after the awards ceremony, feeling as if she were back in high school, dancing with the prom king, Rachel swayed with Cooper to a slow, sexy ballad.
“I’m having a wonderful time,” she murmured, linking her fingers together behind his neck.
“I’m glad. I hope you weren’t too bored by the speeches.”
“Of course not.” Feeling as if they were in their own private bubble, Rachel brushed the back of his neck with her fingertips. “In fact, I’m flattered.”
“Flattered?” Cooper nuzzled that erogenous zone he’d discovered behind her ear.
“To be in the company of Oregon’s Lawman of the Year.”
“It’s no big deal.”
She tilted her head back to look up at him. “Only you would consider being a hero no big deal.”
“Heroes come and go. And it’s a term people throw around too loosely.”
“You saved a mother and two small children. They probably wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you.”
He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. “It was a lucky accident. I didn’t even realize they were being held hostage by that guy until I stopped the SUV for speeding.”
“But when you realized what was going on, you rescued them.”
“Any officer in this room tonight would’ve done the same thing, Rachel. It’s part—”
“Don’t you dare say it.” She pressed her fingers against his lips. “Not tonight.” She rested her head on his shoulder, sighing happily as she pressed her body closer against his. “Now I know how Lois Lane would’ve felt out on a date with Superman.”
She felt his muffled laugh. “Just don’t get your hopes up too high. Because I can’t leap tall buildings in a single bound.”
“There aren’t any tall buildings in River’s Bend. And even if there were, I certainly wouldn’t expect you to.”
“And I’m not stronger than a locomotive.” His broad, long-fingered hands were on her hips, warming the silk and her skin beneath. Rachel ached to feel them on her body. Everywhere.
“Who is?” They fit together like two perfect pieces of a puzzle. The image of them fitting together equally well in bed caused her blood to spike.
“And I’m definitely not faster than a speeding bullet.” His deep, husky voice promised slow, hot sex and had her afraid any response she might make would come out sounding as if she’d been inhaling helium.
“Believe me, Cooper.” Okay, maybe not helium, but her voice was definitely more breathless than those times when they were discussing Sheetrock and plumbing. “You’ve no idea how pleased I am to hear that.”
He pressed her against an impressive erection that felt pretty super to her. “What would you say to moving this party upstairs?”
Rachel went up on her toes and pressed a kiss against his lips. “Sheriff, I thought you’d never ask.”
35
The elevator was filled with a contingent of police chiefs and their wives, but Cooper and Rachel were aware of only one another. When he stroked the soft skin at the inside of her wrist, her pulse hummed. When he smiled down at her, a hot wicked grin rife with sexual intent, her blood warmed.
As soon as they exited onto their floor, he swept her up in his arms and carried her down the carpeted hall.
“Cooper,” she hissed, looking around, concerned they might not be alone. “Put me down.”
“In a minute,” he said easily. “There’s no one else here. Besides, you wouldn’t deny me a Superman fantasy moment, would you? On the night I was named Oregon’s Lawman of the Year?”
“I thought that didn’t matter to you.”
“It doesn’t.” He managed to balance her while opening the door to her room. “But since it seems to matter to you, I figured I might as well throw it out there.”
Despite feeling like an entire New Years’ Eve fireworks display about to go off, Rachel laughed.
“You don’t need it,” she said as he carried her across the room then stood her up next to the bed, which housekeeping had already turned down. The radio had been tuned to an easy listening station and the drapes were drawn.
“We do have one slight problem,” he said after throwing his suit jacket onto a nearby chair. While Enya crooned about trains and winter rains, he began taking the pins out of her hair.
“Oh?”
“How the hell do I get that dress off you?”
Her soft laugh came out on a purr. “There’s a hidden zipper in the back.”
“Thank God. I spent half the evening wondering if I was going to have to peel it off you.” Cooper nibbled lightly on her earlobe and put his hands on her hips as she slowly turned around.
Her exposed back gleamed like alabaster. No, alabaster was too cold. Too hard. “I’ve been going crazy wanting to do this all night,” he said.
He felt her breath hitch as his mouth brushed over the nape of her neck, then glided down the delicate bones of her spine to where the warm satin of her flesh gave way to black silk. And back up again.
Although his body was urging him to drag her down onto that inviting white bed and ravish her like a wild man, Cooper was determined to take his time. To do this right.
As he continued to seduce her with his mouth alone, he tried to ignore the fact that his damn knees were shaking the same way they had the day he’d almost passed out while locking them too hard at his Marine Corps graduation.
“You stagger me, Rachel Hathaway.”
His tongue gathered into the perfumed warmth of her skin. When he found the hidden zipper and lowered it. When he pressed a trail of kisses down to the bared small of her back, then lower still, soft, ragged sounds of pleasure escaped her parted lips.
This was how Cooper wanted Rachel. Warm, pliant, holding nothing back. If only for tonight.
Once they’d returned to River’s Bend, she could return to the brisk, efficient restaurateur, rebuilding her life the way she was renovating a century-old building.
But for now, for this single night, he wanted to know that he could make her as crazy as she’d made him. Maintaining a rigid self-restraint that had been drilled into him in the Corps, and had served him well in law enforcement, he took his time.
When he lifted her hair and lightly nipped her neck, she trembled from the thrill.
“Cooper.” God, he loved hearing her say his name. Especially now, with her voice all breathy, brimming with need. “Please . . . I need you.”
“There’s no schedule tonight.” Turning her in his arms, he looked down to see his own unbridled passion mirrored in her eyes, which were gleaming like sun shining through rain. “No clock. No need to hurry.”
Buying his hands deep in that flowing black hair, he cradled her head as he pulled her tighter against him and took her mouth, lingering over the kiss even as his body turned hot. Hard.
Patience.
Finally, without a word, he slipped the dress off her body, where it pooled at her feet, leaving her standing there in those come-and-take-me-big-boy stilet
tos, a black lace bra that plunged to her waist in back, matching panties, and those gleaming pearls. None of which she could have possibly bought in River’s Bend. But Cooper wasn’t going to think about the world of difference between them right now. What he was going to concentrate on was what they had in common.
He wanted her.
She wanted him.
And for tonight, that would be enough.
As he watched the color rise on her skin behind his stroking touch, a thought popped into his head. “My grandmother grows roses.”
“Oh?” He suspected she was wondering what kind of man would bring up his grandmother at a time like this. Wondering the same damn thing himself, he nevertheless forged on.
“There’s this one . . .”
He unhooked the bra, letting it drop to the carpeting as he cupped her breasts with his hands. And fought for control as hunger spiked.
“I don’t remember the name, but the outer petals are a soft cream color.” She drew in a sharp breath when he flicked a thumb across her nipple and nearly swallowed his tongue as he watched it darken and pebble. “In the very center, there’s a soft blush of pink. Which is what your breasts reminds me of.”
The pretty flush deepened as he insinuated his knee between her legs, brushing against that other center in a way that sent a tremor through her and had her holding onto his shoulder for balance.
“My head’s spinning,” she said breathlessly.
Don’t feel like the Lone Ranger. Cooper was on the verge of premature blast off. Houston, we have a problem.
“Maybe you’d better lie down,” he suggested in a rough, gravely voice.
“Maybe I should,” she agreed. “But first, you’re wearing too many clothes.”
Since it was his numbnuts idea to take this first time slow, though Cooper’s choice would’ve been to rip the damn shirt off himself, he forced himself to stand there as she unfastened the buttons. One by one. Which seemed to take an eternity.
“I knew it,” she murmured.
