by Day Leclaire
Everything about him epitomized power and strength, and she found that true of his kiss, as well. He combined those qualities with a ruthless demand that stunned both body and mind. His mouth slid across hers in blatant hunger, stifling any thought of protest. She hesitated, aware that she should pull away, but wanting just another second or two of this incredible bliss. In that moment of indecision, he slid his hand down the length of her spine to the hollow just above her backside and urged her closer, locking her in place between his thighs.
Their bodies melded, the fit sheer perfection. He had a hard, muscular frame, lean and well-sculpted. It surprised her since it seemed more suited to a fellow rancher than a man who made his living behind a desk. Unable to resist, she measured the breadth of his shoulders, shocked to discover her fingers trembled. He did that to her, coaxing to the surface emotions she wanted to deny, but couldn’t.
He cupped her face and teased the corners of her mouth with his thumbs until her lips parted. The instant she relaxed, he deepened the kiss, dipping inward. She should fight her way free of their embrace, and put an end to this farce. But she didn’t want to. To her eternal shame, she kissed him back, allowing him to forge a connection between them that wouldn’t easily be severed, regardless of her preference in the matter.
She needed this moment, needed tonight. If she were honest, she’d admit that she secretly yearned for Joc’s possession. But a tiny rational part of her clung to reason and shouted a warning about all she stood to lose if she gave herself to this man. The price would prove high if she weren’t careful, destroying everything she’d worked so hard to build.
Even knowing that, she couldn’t bring herself to put an end to their embrace. It wasn’t until she heard the small growl of triumph that rumbled through his chest that she came to her senses. With an exclamation of horror, she yanked free of his arms and retreated several stumbling steps. She touched her mouth with fingers that shook, stunned by how he’d managed to turn her world from reason to insanity with a single kiss.
“Tell me how we’re supposed to go our separate ways now,” he demanded.
“I can’t…I won’t—” She shook her head. “You’re not going to romance my ranch out from under me.”
“This has nothing to do with your ranch,” he insisted impatiently. “This is strictly between the two of us.”
“There is no us. This is nothing more than—” She broke off, hoping the gathering shadows hid her discomfort.
“Sex?” he offered with a humorous smile.
“Fine. Yes. It’s nothing more than sex. And I won’t let you use it to take my ranch.”
He laughed, the sound dark and dangerous, penetrating deep inside her. “You don’t get it, Red. I’ve changed my mind.” Two swift steps had him within touching range again. “It isn’t just your ranch I want anymore.”
He stroked her cheek, just as he had before dinner. And she reacted every bit as strongly, swaying helplessly toward him, before locking her knees in place and resisting with every ounce of determination she possessed.
She knew. On some deep, purely feminine level, she knew the answer before she even asked the question. “What do you want now?”
“You.”
Three
“Forget it. My ranch isn’t for sale, no matter what you offer.” Naked passion shot through Rosalyn’s words and was reflected in her face. “And neither am I.”
“I know you’re not for sale, and I’d never insult you by suggesting such a thing. But you want me every bit as much as I want you. Deny it, if it makes you feel better. Fight if you want. But in the end neither of us is going to be able to resist.” Joc stepped back, giving her some much needed breathing space. “I have a suggestion, one that might take care of our little problem.”
“You’re going away and leaving me alone?”
He didn’t take the hint. “Too late, Red. You walked through my door of your own volition. Don’t blame me if I refuse to let you go.”
“I can say no.” She shook her head, as though to clear it. “I will say no.”
He couldn’t help smiling at her confusion. “I hope to God you do. It would make things easier.” Then he grew serious. “One night, Red. One night together and we should be able to satisfy whatever this is between us.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m taking a short trip tomorrow. Come with me. No ranch talk. No negotiating. No contention. Just you and me and a single night of romance.”
Her breath caught before escaping in a rush. “You can’t be serious.”
He offered a fleeting smile. “Well…if you insist on negotiating the sale of your ranch, I won’t refuse. But I’d rather focus on pleasure and save business for some other time. What do you say?”
“That this is insane.”
His smile grew at her bluntness. “Granted. But so what? Let’s be insane together. Come with me, Rosalyn. You won’t regret it, I promise.”
She was tempted, so very tempted. She forced herself to take another step backward, when what she wanted more than anything was to throw herself into his arms and surrender to madness. She was his weakness, she realized, the earlier suspicion easing toward fact. But it didn’t bring her any satisfaction since she refused to use that to gain an advantage. If she were so foolish as to take him up on his offer, she’d do it because she wanted to be in his bed and not for any other reason.
“I can’t.” She forced herself to be honest. “I won’t.”
“You’ve never done a one-night stand before, have you?”
“No.” She couldn’t help laughing. “Nor do I think it would be wise to start with you.”
He tilted his head to one side, his eyes shrewd and watchful. “Is there anything I can say or do that might change your mind? Drop my attempt to buy your ranch, for instance?”
Her humor faded. “Not cool, Arnaud. I don’t handle business that way and I never will.”
He appeared pleased by her answer. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
She didn’t like the direction he’d taken the discussion. Time to put an end to it. “It’s getting dark. We should go.”
Spinning on her heel, she headed back to her Jeep, not caring if Joc followed or not. He arrived at the driver-side door at the same instant she did and reached around her to open it. His voice slid through the gathering dusk, low and filled with regret.
“I’ve offended you and I’m sorry. I’m accustomed to a world where people have agendas, most of which are hidden. I can’t trust what I see on the surface. I have to constantly look beneath in order to discover their true motives.”
“I’m not like that,” she retorted without turning around. “What you see is what you get.”
“I don’t trust easily.”
This time she did turn, practically finding herself in his arms. “You’re wrong, Joc. It’s not that you don’t trust easily. You don’t trust at all.”
“Maybe I could with you.”
She shook her head. “I doubt it. You’d always wonder if our relationship wasn’t my way of protecting my ranch. You’d always suspect everything I said or did because of Longhorn. That’s why you’re offering a one-night stand. You’re hoping we’ll get each other out of our systems, so that we can put our relationship back on a business footing.”
He gazed down at her, impressed. “Honey, you’re wasted on a ranch. You should come work for me.”
“No, thanks.” Retreating, she slid behind the steering wheel. “Let’s go, Arnaud. We’ve had our fun. It’s time to be enemies again.”
They returned to the ranch in silence and she parked the Jeep in its space beside the barn. One of her hands, Duff, approached as they crossed the yard toward Joc’s vehicle. “Excuse me, Miss Rosalyn. I’ll be heading into town tomorrow on a mail run and wondered if you had anything you needed me to do while I was there.”
“I have a list. I’ll also be doing accounts tonight so if you’d stop by the hou
se first thing in the morning, you can pick up the list, as well as the bills and get them posted. And make sure that mortgage payment is the first one into the mailbox.”
“Sure thing.” He tipped his hat to both of them and then headed for the bunkhouse.
“I gather from your expression there’s another glass of single malt in your immediate future,” Joc said once Duff was out of earshot.
“It’s entirely possible. The spring calving has put me seriously behind on everything except getting the bills paid.” She grimaced. “I can’t remember the last time I balanced my accounts.”
“Take it from someone who knows…That’s not a good idea.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
He smiled at the reluctant concession. “And thank you for dinner. If you change your mind about tomorrow, I’ll send a car for you at eight sharp.”
“Tempting, but I’ll pass.”
He started to reach for her, but after sparing a swift glance in the direction of the bunkhouse, changed his mind. “You don’t need to bring anything with you. Just come. I’ll take care of all the rest. You’ve worked hard all your life, Rosalyn. Let me give you one night of pleasure.”
Almost. She almost caved, but subdued the helpless agreement at the last possible instant. “Please go.”
He lowered his head until his mouth practically brushed hers. “Please come.” The words blew across her lips like a warm, tropical breeze, filled with exotic scents and tastes.
She’d like to, more than anything. But she didn’t dare say it aloud.
He read her mind, anyway. “Do it. My car’s going to show up here at eight tomorrow no matter what you say right now. But if you decide to join me, I promise you won’t regret it. We’ll spend a night together that neither of us will forget.”
And then he was gone, leaving her standing there in the gathering darkness, dreaming of what it would be like to share a single night of incredible bliss with JocArnaud.
Promptly at eight the next morning Rosalyn found herself climbing into the back of Joc’s limo onto butter-soft leather seats. All the while she called herself every type of fool. After the intensity of the harsh morning sunlight, the interior seemed dim and cool, probably because the windows were darkened for privacy and the AC ran at full-blast. It was also quiet. Too quiet. And rich. If money had a special blended perfume, this place would reek of it.
Why was she doing this? Clearly she’d lost her mind. During the forty minutes it took to rendezvous with Joc, she forced herself to sit without fidgeting, deliberately holding the full weight of her foolishness at bay by keeping her mind a blank.
“First time?” Joc asked the minute he joined her.
She jumped. “What? Oh, in a limo? Yes.”
“I didn’t expect you to come.” He tilted his head to one side. “How long did that decision take?”
“From the time you left right up until I found myself walking out to your limo and getting in.” Before then she’d had every intention of sending the car on its way. Now all she could do was silently curse her impulsive stupidity. She stared at Joc in a combination of dawning horror and disbelief. “I just told Claire goodbye and that I’d see her tomorrow and to hold down the fort while I was gone.”
He chuckled in genuine amusement. “I gather you left before she had time to bar the doors and tie you to the nearest chair.”
“Pretty much.”
“And now you’re having second thoughts.”
“Was it the shaking that gave it away, or the hyper-ventilating?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”
“I think that’s what the Big Bad Wolf said right before he ate Little Red Riding Hood,” she muttered in reply.
That won her another laugh. He leaned forward and removed her hat, tossing it onto the seat across from them. Without the protective shade from the brim, she felt far too exposed and folded her hands in her lap with a grip so tight her knuckles blanched. She frowned at the dichotomy of battered Stetson resting on pristine cream leather.
“Now there’s a sight I never thought to see. Not a comfortable fit, is it?”
“You might be surprised at how comfortable the fit becomes, given time.” He tilted his head to one side, assessing her reaction to his comment. “I could prove how comfortable it would be, but it might take more than a single night.”
Even she could read between those lines. “I’ll pass.”
Twenty minutes later they arrived at a private airport. The limo was waved onto the tarmac and pulled to a halt not far from a corporate jet. In no time they were up the steps, aboard the plane and buckled into the spacious seats. She stared at Joc, struggling for something innocuous to say, something that had nothing to do with their plans for the next twenty-four hours.
“So, where are we going?” she asked.
He accepted her nervous volley with equanimity. “A small island between the Gulf and the Caribbean called Isla de los Deseos.”
The information left her shifting in her seat. “I didn’t realize we’d be going so far.”
He signaled the flight attendant and held up two fingers. The next instant they were each presented a cup of coffee before their server made herself scarce. “I promised you a romantic evening, and I guarantee it’ll be one. This particular jet was built for speed. It’ll only take a few hours to reach Deseos. In the meantime, relax. There’s a selection of movies you can watch and we have a full library of books and magazines. When’s the last time you had a break from work?”
She stared at him without speaking, which was answer enough.
“I gather you don’t believe in vacations?” he probed.
“I own a ranch,” she replied, as though that single statement said it all. And maybe it did.
“You have employees. Or isn’t the word ‘delegation’ part of your vocabulary.”
“It’s in there somewhere. I just can’t—” She broke off and sipped her coffee.
He knew what she’d been about to say. She couldn’t afford to delegate. A wave of protectiveness caught him by surprise. She shouldn’t have to work so hard. If he took the ranch off her hands, maybe she wouldn’t have to. His mouth twisted at the thought. How altruistic of him.
“Put your chair back and relax. I have an hour or so of work to do before we land.”
To his surprise, she did as he suggested. When he next looked up it was to find her fast asleep. Her hair had slipped over one shoulder like a silken flow of lava, just skimming the upper curve of her breast. She’d turned her face toward him at some point and sleep eased the contours, making her appear young and innocent. The upper few snaps of her shirt had come undone and he caught a glimpse of fragile bone structure and the soft curve of rounded flesh before it vanished into the confines of a utilitarian white bra.
He forced his attention back to his work, examining the final details of the partnership he’d be dismantling early the next morning. But through it all he could see that combination of creamy white alongside deep auburn. Could feel the tug and hear the whisper that urged him to wake Red with a kiss.
And he wanted. Wanted with a growing passion that defied all attempts to control and threatened all he hoped to achieve.
Rosalyn woke with a start only moments after they’d landed and Joc watched her struggle to bring her brain online. In those first few moments he suspected she didn’t know where she was, whether it was night or day, or how she’d gotten wherever she’d ended up. He knew the feeling well enough to recognize it in her expression. It also allowed him to see her with her guard down, at her most open and vulnerable.
She turned her head and he sat there, watching her with an intensity that warned he found her more interesting than any woman in memory. The instant she caught him staring, her barriers slammed into place, shutting him out of the one place he most wanted to be.
“We just landed on Isla de los Deseos,” he said. “We got here by corporate jet. It’s one in the afternoon, Thursday. That’s Dallas time, not
local. You agreed to spend the night with me, something I’m sure you’re now regretting.”
She straightened in her seat. “Thanks. That fills in the gaps beautifully.” She spoke with a hint of formality, and yet her voice slid through him, warm and deep and sleep-roughened.
“You must have been tired.” He stood, though that meant ducking a bit to fit his six-foot-three-inch frame beneath the five-and-a-half-foot ceiling. “You work too hard.”
“How would you know?” She waved the question aside. “Never mind. Knowing you, you’ve had me investigated up one side and down the other.”
He didn’t bother confirming it, since it was the truth. “Hungry?” he asked.
“Starving.”
“Then I’ll show you to our room and we’ll grab a bite to eat.”
She followed him off the plane, exiting into heat and humidity only a little less intense than Dallas, although the quality of the air felt far different here. He wondered if she’d notice. For some reason, the dampness had a lighter, mistier quality to it, a soft stroke across the skin instead of a thick blanket. She took a deep breath and he acknowledged her soft exclamation of delight with a nod of agreement.
“Different, isn’t it?”
“Sweet. And…and exotic. Is it the flowers?”
“The flowers. The salt air. The spices. It gets to you after a while. Forces you to relax.”
After a short drive from the airport, they arrived at a resort complex. A bellman escorted them directly to a large cabaña tucked off to one side of the main hotel. It rambled across a lush, fern-covered rise with a breathtaking view of the ocean on one side and verdant rain forest on the other. Inside, large airy rooms flowed one into the other. Terra cotta slate composed the entranceway, while the rest of the rooms featured hand-scraped bamboo flooring covered with woven area rugs. All of the rooms had been decorated with refreshing accents in exotic shades of mango, kiwi and pineapple. Overhead, a soft breeze stirred from the wicker ceiling fans. It was a welcoming haven, a place where they both could relax and give in to fantasy.
