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Authors: Claire McEwen

Tags: #romance, #Contemporary, #Western, #Fiction

Convincing the Rancher (21 page)

BOOK: Convincing the Rancher
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He wanted a firmer answer to his question about a date. But he knew if he asked her for one, she’d throw up a barrier between them. He glanced around the room, looking for inspiration, for something to distract her from her instinct to hide and flee. His eyes lit on the chessboard he and Devin kept set up near the fireplace. Devin was learning and Slaid had always loved to play. “Chess?” he asked.

Tess started, then threw back her head and laughed, long and low. “Oh, my,” she purred. “You do know how to show a girl a good time, don’t you?”

Damn, she was sexy when she teased him like that. When she laughed, her throat was a long, elegant column, and he remembered the silk of the skin from their kiss in Bodie. He remembered the satin of her when he’d been inside her back in Phoenix. In an instant he was hard and grateful for the pillow in his lap. “Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. It’s a good game. I’ll teach you.”

“Teach me?” She cocked an eyebrow in worldly disbelief. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got a few moves I could teach
you
.”

He reached for the coffee table that held the game, and slid it closer to the couch. “Why am I not surprised?”

Tess turned out to be a formidable opponent. Lower lip caught in her teeth, a glass of Scotch swirling gently in her hand, he could have watched her concentrate all night. A faint line appeared between her fair brows when she drew them together in thought. And a satisfied smile molded her lips when she made yet another killer move on the board. Slaid whistled low when she slipped her queen behind her rook and murmured, “Checkmate.”

“You’re a shark, Tess. Where did you learn to play like that?”

“Boys and Girls Club after-school program. They had to keep us housing-project kids out of trouble somehow.” She froze. Her skin went pale and she kept her eyes glued to the board, as if by not moving she could somehow pretend the information wasn’t out there.

It wasn’t the answer he’d expected. Tess was so refined, cultured and polished, he’d assumed she’d come from a privileged background. And he realized in a rush of understanding, that that was exactly what she wanted him to believe—what she worked so hard to make
everyone
believe. Which was why this revelation had her almost glassy-eyed in shock.

He shoved down the curiosity that fizzed and popped in his mind. It wouldn’t serve him now. She was in distress and needed his help. “Well, whoever it was, they taught you well. Or maybe I’ve gotten rusty, playing against a fourteen-year-old.”

She still wouldn’t look at him. She took a long sip of her Scotch and stared into the fire. When she looked back at him, all signs of distress had vanished. Her shoulders were straight and that feline smile was back on her lips. “Or maybe I
can
teach you a thing or two, Mr. Mayor.”

He knew now that the smooth, sexy banter was an act. But he played along.

“I think you already have.” He saw the heat in her eyes and knew exactly what she needed right now. He needed it, too. He took the drink from her hand and set it on the coffee table. He leaned in and brought his hand to her hair, pushing the thick blond mass behind her shoulder. Her usual I-dare-you look flashed from deep in her eyes, and he took her up on the challenge, bringing his mouth to hers and kissing her sassy half smile until it melted into a heated response.

He’d promised himself he’d take things slow, that he’d show Tess what it was like to get to know someone, but when he was near her, slow just didn’t seem to work out. He lived his life with a lot of discipline, but he had almost none when it came to Tess. His entire focus centered on kissing her, on exploring her dark depths. His hand left her hair and found her full breast, and instead of caution, all he felt was frustration that there was a wool sweater between them. He must have let his feelings show, because her lips curved in a slight smile under his. Then she pulled back and tore off her sweater, all confidence now.

“Is this what you were looking for?” she murmured, meeting his eyes with pure seduction in hers.

Her bra was the color of deep red wine, and he reached for the lace without thought, only need. She laughed, low and satisfied, until he stopped the sound with another kiss, rough this time. He wanted to break through that facade and find the real Tess. The one he’d glimpsed in Bodie, the one he’d seen without makeup on Halloween, the one he saw every time she forgot herself and just laughed.

He eased her down onto the leather sofa and assaulted her mouth with kisses that wouldn’t let her hide or pretend they didn’t matter. Grabbing a wrist, he held it over her head while his mouth raged over hers, taking her lips, nipping at her jaw, sliding down to her delicate shell of an ear before capturing her mouth again, inhaling her surprised gasp with his ragged breathing. His other hand roamed, taking in a collage of sensation—her warmth, the muscles of her abdomen and the outrageous curve of her hip.

Tess moaned and moved under his hand, pressing her body into his erection, driving him crazy. Her free hand slid under his T-shirt and over his back, trailing along the waistband of his jeans. He opened his eyes and saw that hers were closed, her cheeks flushed. The composed woman had turned inward, wild and wanton and like nothing he’d ever seen in her or anyone else.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, sweeping his cheek across hers, running his tongue along the rim of her ear, gratified by the way she whimpered at his touch and pushed against him. “I don’t care where the hell you came from, or what all those secrets are that you’re so damn careful to hide. I love being with you.” He kissed her again, but pulled back when he felt her hands on his chest, pushing him away.

He sat up. Knowing instantly he shouldn’t have let his thoughts come to the surface like that.

Tess reached for her sweater. He was closer, so he handed it to her, watching with regret as she pulled it over her head.

“What’s going on, Tess?”

“Just seems as if maybe we’re getting in over our heads. Wasn’t it you who talked about taking things slow?”

“Dating doesn’t mean celibacy. It means we do things together besides just having sex.”

“I told you I don’t date—I shouldn’t have let you talk me into it.”

She was so good at putting up walls, he could almost see them rising, brick by brick.

“Tess, what’s this really about? Are you scared because I said that I love to be with you? Or because you mentioned something about your past? I don’t care about your past. Why would I care that you grew up in a housing project? Or hung out at the Boys and Girls Club?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said softly, straightening her sweater.

“Then we won’t. But just so you know, I think you’re feeling ashamed by things that aren’t under our control. We don’t pick where we’re born or who our parents are.” His voice was raised now but he didn’t care. He’d do whatever it took to crack that stubborn shell she wore around her like a shield.

“It’s easy for you to say. You haven’t lived like I did. You need to understand, Slaid—you’re in over your head,” she said flatly. “I can’t give you what you want.”

That bugged him. “How do you even know what I want?”

“You’ve told me you’re a traditional relationship kind of guy. That will never happen with me. I’m over here pretending that it could, but I’m like a kid playing house. It’s just a game. It’s wrong to let you get involved.”

That pissed him off, too. “
Let
me get involved? I’m a grown-up, Tess.
I’ll
decide who I get involved with and how much.”

She stood up, looking pale and pissed. She walked to the entryway and picked up her coat and bag. “I’m going to head home now.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he just grabbed his coat and walked her to her Jeep. They stood at the vehicle’s door, and the silence seemed to breathe between them. When she reached for the door, he put a gentle hand on her arm, determined to try once more to reach her. “I had a great time earlier tonight. Let’s not end it on a bad note.”

“Oh, it’s not bad,” she said with a brightness he now recognized as fake—and was thoroughly sick of. “It’s just like you said—we had a nice time.”

“Stop pretending everything is fine for once. If it was, you wouldn’t be running out the door.”

“Look, it’s obvious that we really like each other—but want different things.”

“What
do
you want? Because a few minutes ago I was pretty sure you wanted me.”

“I want things simple, Slaid. I’ve been telling you since I got here. I don’t have heart-to-heart talks. And I don’t do relationships.”

“Seems as if we already have a relationship.”

“We have a crazy chemistry. That’s different than a relationship.”

He’d had it. His mind was reeling with his desire for her and the knowledge he felt so deep down that they
could
be great together. “So that’s it. We have one accidental mention of your past and you run out of here and go hide in that little house of yours? Ignore what’s between us? I thought you were braver than this.”

She stiffened. “I’m brave enough to face the truth, Slaid. That you see what you want to see in me. You think you can get me to conform to the life you think everyone should have, to live up to your ideals of how you think a relationship should work. But I can’t. So let’s stop this now, before someone gets hurt.”

“You’re walking away because you’re scared.”

“I’m walking away because I’m smart.” She leaned in and kissed him, her mouth bold on his, her touch sending nerves rippling. “Good night, Slaid.”

He didn’t answer. The only words in his head were
don’t go
, and no way would he be that pathetic. His fists clenched, coiled in frustration, as she climbed into the Jeep and drove off.

Slaid walked back to his house, slamming his fist on the door as he opened it. He looked around the room, at the dishes stacked in the kitchen, at the couch in disarray, at the clock on the wall. It was only nine o’clock—not too late. He refused to sit here and think about what he’d just lost. Devin was gone and he was free to do what he pleased.

He grabbed his keys and drove to town, parking in front of The High Country Sports Bar on Main Street. From the sidewalk he heard a band playing inside. He pushed his way through the front door, into the chaos, in search of a beer, a game of pool, a conversation—anything to get his thoughts off Tess Cole.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

T
ESS SAT ON
the bench in the small front garden of her cottage. She was wrapped in her teal parka, her computer on her lap, hot tea in a travel mug next to her. The air was crisp, but the thin layer of afternoon sunshine hitting the front of the house had enticed her outside. She couldn’t stay cooped up a minute longer. The sunshine here might be twenty degrees cooler than at home, but it still felt good on her skin.

She glanced at the document she had open, trying to concentrate. But for the past week, concentration had been almost impossible.
Thank you, Slaid Jacobs,
she thought bitterly. But he wasn’t really the problem. Her idiot brain was the problem. Why did it have to get obsessed with the one guy she’d ever slept with who wanted more than just sex?

Everything had been going so well between them, and then he’d made those comments about her past. And there’d been something close to pity in his tone. She’d spent her childhood being everyone’s charity project—she didn’t want anyone’s charity, or pity, ever again.

She should have known better than to agree to date him. There was something about Slaid that lowered her guard. That made her forget that it was always best to keep her personal business to herself.

And now everything was complicated. Though things had ended badly between them the other night, she’d still looked for him all week. While lunching with the Benson Women’s Club to talk to them about the wind project, she’d found herself wondering if she’d run into him at the restaurant. The Sierra Club met in the library across from city hall, and when she’d gone to their meeting to seek an endorsement for the windmills, her gaze kept straying out the window, hoping to see him walk out of the old granite building. Her video screenings and information sessions each evening had been fairly well attended, but he hadn’t been in the audience, no matter how many times she’d wished he might walk through the door.

The odd thing was, she had no idea what she’d do if she saw him. They were at a dead end. But she missed him, and it was unsettling. Tess had always cherished being alone. But for the past several nights she’d tossed and turned, wanting Slaid with her. She ate her solitary meals in the cottage kitchen wishing he was on the other side of the table. If he was here right now, they’d sit on this bench together, and she’d be tucked under his arm, braving this cool afternoon with his warmth surrounding her.

But she’d pushed him away so hard this time that he was most likely gone for good. It was for the best, she reminded herself as she sipped her tea. He wanted to know her better, but if he knew the truth about her, he’d run away fast. She’d done the right thing, saved them both a lot of useless trouble, and now she’d just have to learn to live with it.

Out of her peripheral vision an object came flying and hit the picket fence a few feet away with a
thunk
. A piece of the old fence broke off and landed with a clatter on the flagstones under Tess’s feet. She jumped, her heart in her mouth. “What the...?” She stopped when she saw the boy. A young teenager staring at her in shock, his backpack split open at a seam, its contents scattered on the sidewalk in front of her fence.

“Are you okay?” Tess asked, opening the gate and stepping onto the sidewalk.

“I’m sorry.” The boy’s fair skin was flushed, his light brown eyebrows drawn into a heavy scowl. “Sorry about your fence. I just...” He gestured helplessly at the backpack and bent down to collect the scattered books. Tess knelt down and picked up the ones nearest her, putting the pieces of the puzzle together. He’d obviously been upset and chucked his backpack.

“Seems as if you’re having a bad day,” Tess told the boy, and he looked at her startled, as if he couldn’t believe she wasn’t going to yell.

BOOK: Convincing the Rancher
9.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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