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Her Cowboy Distraction Page 9
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Page 9
What surprised her more than anything was the absence of photos. She’d expected to walk into a shrine of sorts to Janice, but there was nary a photo of the woman in the room.
“Daniel, this is lovely,” she said as she set down her cosmetic suitcase.
He dropped the two suitcases he’d carried in to the floor. “Come on, I’ll show you the kitchen.”
She followed him in and nearly caught her breath at the size of the room. It was built to be a family kitchen, a place to gather to eat and do homework and connect with each other.
It was painted a cheerful yellow, with yellow-and-white gingham curtains hanging over the windows that allowed the sun to play on a small breakfast nook.
“Cook much in here?” she asked, noticing that both the stovetop and oven had the cleanliness of little use.
He pointed to the microwave and the toaster next to it. “If it can’t be toasted, zapped or grilled, then it’s not being eaten in this house.”
“This is a kitchen meant to be used for family gatherings and big meals,” Lizzy said. She turned to look at Daniel, unsurprised to find his eyes dark and enigmatic.
“I’ll take you upstairs and we’ll get you settled for the night,” he said, an obvious dismissal of her observation.
As they walked back through the living room, she grabbed her small suitcase and he once again lifted the two larger ones. He led her up a flight of stairs to the second floor. “Two guest rooms on the right, one on the left along with the bathroom,” he said when they reached the landing. “The master suite is at the end of the hall.”
He showed her each of the three guest bedrooms, and she took the one on the left next to the hall bathroom. All of them were lovely rooms, but this one made her feel instantly at home with its petal-pink spread and gauzy white curtains at the windows. The furniture was blond, fashioned years ago with the stability of solid craftsmanship.
“This will be fine,” she said as she set down the cosmetic bag. He dropped the suitcases just inside the bedroom door.
“You’ll find fresh towels and anything else you might need in the linen closet in the bathroom.”
She nodded. It was close to midnight and she was sure he was eager to get to bed. A wealth of gratitude swelled up inside her. This man owed her nothing. She was nothing more than a piece of flotsam drifting through his life, and yet he’d stepped up for her, a virtual stranger, who was in need.
She took a step closer to where he stood in the threshold. “Daniel, I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay here temporarily.” Unconsciously, a hand rose to her neck as she remembered those horrifying moments of not being able to breathe.
His eyes darkened and he took a step toward her. “When I think of somebody hurting you, it makes me sick to my stomach.” He balled his hands into fists at his sides. “Honestly, it makes me angry as hell.”
Lizzy moved even closer to him and smiled up at him. “I don’t believe in anger.”
He frowned. “What do you mean, you don’t believe in anger?”
She shrugged. “It’s just been my experience that anger is an emotion that masks the real emotion beneath it. A wife says she’s angry with her husband, but the truth of the matter is she’s feeling either frustrated or betrayed. A mother is angry with a child, but it’s usually disappointment she’s really feeling. Life would be much easier if anger was taken out of the mix altogether and people could be in touch with their true emotions.”
He frowned, as if trying to take in what she was saying. “The workings of your mind absolutely fascinate me,” he finally said. “So, what is it that I’m feeling right now if not anger?”
She stepped forward again, moving close enough to him that she could feel his body heat radiating outward. “You’re afraid for me, and maybe part of what you feel is puzzlement about who would try to hurt me or warn me to get out of town.”
“It’s a nice theory, Lizzy, but I’ve got to be honest with you. When I think of somebody wrapping their arm around your neck and squeezing the air out of you, when I allow myself to feel what you must have felt at that moment, I’m just plain pissed.”
She smiled at him and at the same time felt the wetness of tears beginning to fill her eyes as she thought of those moments when she’d been certain she was going to die.
This time it was he who reached for her. He pulled her against him and wrapped his arms tight around her back. She melted against his strong chest. Even though she told herself she wanted nothing from him except a little bit of comfort, at that moment, with his heartbeat racing against her own, she knew she wanted more.
He held her as if he never wanted to let her go, and she reveled in his embrace. For the first time since she’d stepped out of the café that night to head to her cabin, she felt safe and protected.
She wanted to stay there forever, to allow time and the very movement of Earth to occur without intruding in their space. She wanted nothing of the outside world to ruin this moment of simply existing in his arms.
All too quickly his arms dropped to his side and he leaned back from her. He raised a hand and caressed with gentle fingers across her throat. “I wish I just understood why this happened.”
“That makes two of us,” she replied. She felt half-breathless standing so close to him, with his gaze smoky and intent on her.
“Lizzy, I’m only going to do this once, and that’s only because I’ve been thinking about it since the first time you faced me across the booth,” he said.
She knew at that moment he intended to kiss her. His gaze lingered on her mouth, a hot promise in his eyes as he leaned in for conquest.
She hadn’t expected this. She wasn’t prepared for the kiss, wasn’t prepared for him to be in her life here and now, but that didn’t stop her from yearning for the feel of his lips against hers.
When his mouth touched hers, his lips were sizzling hot, as she’d known they’d be, but she hadn’t expected the hunger that instantly overwhelmed her as she opened her mouth to eagerly accept his kiss.
She had no idea if it was his hunger or her own that roared out of control. She only knew that his tongue whirled with hers in a wild dance of desire and she was lost in the smoking sensuality of him.
She’d expected a kiss to be a simple thing, but there was nothing remotely simple about the way Daniel Jefferson kissed. He nibbled, he tasted and he acted as if it might be the very last time in his life that he had the opportunity to kiss a woman.
He raised his hands to her cheeks, framing her face as if it were an exquisite piece of art. His hands were slightly rough, the hands of a working man, and she loved the way they felt against her skin.
By the time the kiss ended, Lizzy felt like a hot pool of want. Her knees threatened to buckle beneath her with the force of her desire for him.
She thought she saw the same emotion in him, the intense longing for more, but it was there only a second and then hidden as his eyes darkened and he stepped several inches back from her.
“I had to do that once, but it would be foolish for us to allow it to happen again or to take it any further,” he said, his voice sounding deeper than usual. “Neither one of us are in a place in our lives where kissing each other makes any kind of sense.” He took another step back from her. “So, I’ll just say good night.”
As she watched him head down the hallway to his bedroom, she knew he was right, but just once in her life she would have liked to be foolish and end up with him in his bed.
Chapter 7
Daniel rode on the back of Dandy the next morning, his thoughts rumbling a hundred miles an hour in his head and in as many directions.
Who wanted Lizzy out of town, and why? Had she flirted with somebody and then spurned him as a potential lover? Had she dated somebody else before spending time with Daniel, and now that person was in some sort of rage?
When he got back to the house he intended to ask her some hard questions in hopes that they would get some answers that made sense of the whole thi
ng.
A smile of amusement lifted his lips as he thought of her theory about anger. Still, as amusing as he’d found the conversation this morning, he was wondering if perhaps there was a lot of truth to what she’d said.
Anger was an easy emotion to grasp on to, one that masked deeper, more profound emotions inside. Had he been angry with Janice on that fatal night? He’d certainly thought so at the time and in the weeks and months since the accident.
But, now in retrospect, it hadn’t been anger that had driven that final argument. On his part, he’d been frustrated and felt guilty with her demands, and he knew she had been impatient and disappointed that he was going to break a promise to her. So many emotions had existed between them, and yet they both had grabbed on to anger to use as a sword against each other.
He shook his head, wanting to, needing to dispel the fight that night that had ultimately led to Janice’s death. Besides, it was hard to think about Janice when Lizzy so filled his mind.
That kiss.
That damnable kiss.
It had kept him tossing and turning through the night, wanting more, needing more from Lizzy. She’d become a burning in his soul. Each and every time he was with her he wanted to wrap her in his arms and carry her to bed. She fascinated him with her lists and outlook on life, with her observations of people and emotions.
But, the last thing he wanted to do was bind himself in any way to a woman who would ultimately leave him. He had no desire to experience any kind of heartbreak again.
Lizzy would stay at his place for a couple of days. Sheriff Evans would find out who was responsible for the attack on her, and then Lizzy would be gone and he’d be left the way she’d found him—alone and miserable.
He checked the fencing and then turned Dandy around to head back to the house. It wasn’t true. She wouldn’t leave him the way she’d found him. With her effervescence and obvious zest for life, she’d breathed a new appreciation of life back into him.
He was ready to move on from the tragedy that he had allowed to define him as a man. It wouldn’t be with Lizzy, but at least after she left he’d be open again to socializing with the townspeople, with holding his head up high.
Maybe that had been fate’s reason for bringing her to Grady Gulch and to him, to remind him of the joy that surrounded him if he just put aside his guilt and misery long enough to enjoy it.
It was just after eight when he walked into the house and was struck by the scent of warm maple syrup and coffee. He stood in the threshold of the kitchen and watched Lizzy, who had her back to him. She’d apparently found a waffle iron in the cabinets that he rarely explored, and she was humming under her breath as she poured batter into the contraption.
He stood breathlessly still, just enjoying the sight of her. She was clad in a pair of pink pajamas with a robe thrown over the top. Her hair was still slightly mussed, as if she’d hurriedly climbed out of bed, washed her face and then had come downstairs to find breakfast.
He thought he’d never seen a woman who looked so sexy, and he could easily imagine that wonderful scent of warm, half-asleep woman mingling with the residual fragrance of her exotic perfume.
He cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the direction of his thoughts. She whirled around to look at him, and a beautiful smile danced across her features. “Ah, perfect timing. Waffles are going to be ready in about three minutes.”
“You don’t have to cook for me,” he said as he walked over to the countertop that held the coffeemaker.
“And what makes you think I’m cooking for you?” she asked with a teasing smile. “I woke up with a ravenous appetite for waffles. I just figured if I was making them for myself, I’d be nice and make a couple for you, too.” She flashed him a quick grin. “Besides, cooking for you is the least I can do since you’re giving me safe haven.”
He carried a cup of coffee to the table and sat, his gaze lingering on her as she turned back around to attend to the waffles.
He wanted her. Even the knowledge that she’d be leaving town very soon couldn’t stanch the need that burned in his stomach. It was as if she hadn’t just awakened him to the world around him, but had fired up his hormones to combustible levels.
“Here we are,” she said as she placed a platter of waffles in the center of the table. “Now just a little butter and some hot syrup, and we’re in business.” She poured the heated syrup into a small stoneware pitcher and added it and a tub of butter to the table.
She sat across from him with a cup of coffee in hand. “Dig in,” she said. “They aren’t good if they get cold.”
“Did you sleep well?” he asked as he speared one of the waffles with his fork.
“Like a baby,” she replied as she slathered her waffle with butter. “I was afraid I’d have nightmares, but if I dreamed at all I don’t remember. What about you? How did you sleep?” She drowned the waffle in the syrup.
There was no way he’d admit to her that he’d slept poorly, haunted by his own desire, tortured by visions of her in his bed. “I slept okay.”
For the next few minutes they focused on the meal, although the sight of Lizzy’s lips shiny with syrup was a particular form of torture for him. As her tongue slid across her lower lip to catch an errant dollop of the sweet liquid, Daniel felt his grip on control coming close to snapping.
He ducked his head and focused solely on the meal. The easiest thing for him to do was to pretend she wasn’t there. He ate three waffles but still felt a restless hunger inside him that he knew food would never satisfy.
When they’d finished eating he helped with the cleanup, stacking the dishes in the dishwasher after she’d rinsed them. As they worked she chattered about the people who were regulars in the café, about how much she’d enjoyed her time in Grady Gulch and that she thought her next stop would be some mountaintop where she would sit and stargaze.
Each and every word of her conversation was a reminder to him that this was a temporary stop for her, that he would always be nothing more than a temporary man. And wasn’t that exactly what he wanted? No ties, no commitments, nobody for him to disappoint.
“I need to get upstairs and take a shower,” she said when the dishes were all put away.
“Yeah, I need to do the same,” he replied.
“We could always shower together and save water.”
She had to be joking, he thought. But as he turned and looked at her, there was no teasing light in her eyes. Rather, he saw a mirrored image of his desire there. It stole his breath away and made his lungs ache in his chest.
She took a step closer to him, her whiskey eyes inviting him to imbibe, to become intoxicated with her. “I didn’t tell you about one of the things on my bucket list.”
“And what’s that?” he asked, aware that his voice sounded half-strangled with his need of her.
“To make love to a man I’ll never forget. I believe that you’re that man, Daniel. I want to make love to you, and when I leave here I’ll have the warmth of that memory of us together to carry with me for the rest of my life.”
A memory. That’s what he’d be to her and that’s definitely what she would be to him and that’s all they’d be to each other. Was that so bad? Was it so bad to have a memory of passion to carry with him through the rest of his lonely life?
Her hand slid into his, and at that moment he knew he was lost and he didn’t want to be found. They left the kitchen and Daniel felt as if he’d stepped into a dream, a wonderful dream from which he didn’t want to awaken.
With each step they took up the stairs he expected her to pull her hand from his and tell him it had all been a silly joke. But, instead as they walked closer to his master bedroom, her hand squeezed more tightly with his.
Daniel had always felt as if the master bathroom was huge, but it shrank to intimate proportions with her so close to him. She took the lead, opening the glass shower door and turning on the faucets. Within moments steam began to rise out of the shower enclosure and fill the roo
m.
She then went to the linen closet and pulled out two large, fluffy towels. She set them on the counter and then turned to gaze at him, her expression suddenly one of hesitation. “If I’m being presumptuous here, then please stop me before I make a total fool of myself.”
In reply to her he pulled his T-shirt off and dropped it on the floor behind him. Her eyes widened and then narrowed as her gaze slid across his bare chest. “Covering that chest should be a sin,” she said huskily.
Her comment only stoked the flames of desire higher inside him. He watched as she took off the robe and hung it on the hook on the back of the bathroom door. As she began to unfasten the pearllike buttons that ran down the top of her thin, cotton pajamas, the blood in Daniel’s veins threatened to boil over.
She shrugged out of the top, leaving her bare-breasted, and suddenly Daniel couldn’t get into the shower with her fast enough.
He wanted to take a bar of soap and slowly run it across her breasts, down her back, across her slender shoulders. He wanted to wrap her in soapsuds and then slide his body against hers.
He nearly stumbled to the floor in his eagerness to get out of his jeans, quickly followed by his socks and boxers. By that time she was gloriously naked, and together they stepped into the shower.
The first thing he did was pull her into his arms, and the feel of her naked body against his own was magic. It was as if nothing had come before her and nothing would ever come after her. There was just this moment in time and she belonged completely to him.
As the warm water cascaded over their bodies, their lips met in a kiss that made him feel as if he’d never truly been kissed before. He tasted eagerness and heat and the faint sweetness from the maple syrup of the waffles she’d eaten earlier.
He was already fully aroused, and he hadn’t even picked up a bar of soap yet. He realized he’d wanted this since the moment she’d slid across from him in the booth and eaten the pie he’d ordered for Janice. He’d known at that moment that somehow Lizzy was going to change his life.