Leftover Love (17 page)

His knee pushed shut the door to the clothes dryer, then his glance took skipping note of her. “Don’t you think you should go get dressed? Mattie will be home shortly,” Creed advised her somewhat critically.

Layne straightened from the door frame as he approached, effectively putting herself in his path. The smile on her lips was warm with the inner knowledge of her feelings. Creed halted only inches from her, so she was eye level with his massive chest and its dark whorl of chest hairs. Her pulse was stirred by her nearness to the man she loved.

“Knowing Mattie”—Layne couldn’t resist sliding a hand up the sinewy muscles that roped his chest—“I doubt she’ll say a word if she finds me walking around in this robe in front of you.”

Her hand continued its upward travel to curve along the nape of his neck while she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, taking care to hold the coffee cup to the side of her body. Initially, his lips were unresponsive to the warm pressure of
her mouth. But that didn’t last as his arm hooked her waist to drag her hips into contact with his length while the driving force of his suddenly demanding mouth arched her backward over his arm.

His hand invaded the folds of her robe to take possession of her breast and roughly massage it, pinching the nipple into hardness. Her gasp of mixed pleasure and pain was consumed by his tongue, but it gentled his touch and turned it restless, gliding to her shoulder and arched throat.

When he lifted his head to gaze down at her with his eyes three-quarter lidded, Layne was conscious of the labored edge of his breathing. There was a faint grimness about his mouth even as he studied her kiss-swollen lips.

“We make a pair, don’t we?” Creed muttered. “Beauty and the beast.” Layne started to smile until she noticed that he wasn’t amused by it. “It’d make quite a story, wouldn’t it? A modern version, of course.”

“I suppose it would,” she conceded. “But I’d never even thought about it.”

His glance raked her face. A split second later his hold on her loosened and the hand that gripped the side of her waist used its strength to swing her out of his way. She was left standing free as Creed brushed past her to enter the kitchen.

“That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it? Doing research so you can write some stories for the paper,” he stated without turning to look at her until he had finished.

A troubled darkness clouded the olive color of her eyes. Layne dropped her gaze to the coffee cup in her hand and followed him into the kitchen, not wanting to continue her lie. Yet it didn’t seem fair to tell him the truth about her relationship to Mattie when Mattie didn’t know. It put her in an awkward position, and there wasn’t time to work out
who rightfully deserved to know the truth first. Creed was expecting a response.

“Of course,” Layne said, trying to sound airy.

“Your ordeal this afternoon should make good material for a story,” Creed remarked as he turned to refill his coffee cup.

“I’d just as soon forget about that.” Layne suppressed a shiver at the memory of those icy minutes in the water. “I prefer writing about other people’s experiences.”

“You’ve had more than enough time to accumulate all the research you’d need to write several articles.” Creed studied her with a sidelong glance, a large hand resting negligently on the band of his low-riding jeans. “Why have you stayed on?”

She released an uncomfortable laugh. “You almost sound as if you want me to leave.”

“I can’t think of a reason for you to stay,” he said evenly.

Layne stiffened at the stinging content of his words. “Not even you?” Her hurt question bordered on a demand to know exactly where she stood with him.

A cold, ruthless light flared in his narrowed eyes. “Don’t try to kid me, Layne. As Stoney would say, I’ve been to see the elephant. Maybe it amuses you for the time being to play around with a man like me, but it won’t last. I’m just an oddity to you.”

“No.” The denial sprang forcefully from her.

“Don’t be concerned about sparing my feelings,” Creed told her with a faintly contemptuous curl of his mouth. “I’ve wanted to make love to you. I suddenly realized there wasn’t any reason why I shouldn’t enjoy that beautiful body of yours, since it was so willingly being offered to me.”

A confused pain flickered across her brow as Layne turned away from him to face the counter. “I can’t believe
you didn’t feel something,” she accused and abruptly set the coffee cup down.

“Oh, I felt something all right.” He wandered over to her. His hands took her by the waist and turned her to face him. His dark gaze was sexually alive to her. Slowly and deliberately, his hands slid down to clasp the rounded cheeks of her bottom and insinuate her lower body to his thrusting hips, making his state of arousal blatantly obvious. “And I still feel something.”

Shaking her head in mute denial, Layne looked anywhere but at him. “You don’t mean what you’re saying,” she declared tautly and pushed at his arms.

“Don’t I?” The thickness of want was in his husky voice as he bent his head and rubbed his mouth along the curve of her neck. “I could lay you down right here on the kitchen floor and take you again. If that sounds crude and heartless, you can blame it on the beast in me.”

That absurd excuse merely enraged Layne. With a violent shove, she twisted away from him. It was a full second before she realized that she would never have been able to escape from those powerful arms if Creed hadn’t wanted to let her go. She was hurt, angry, and confused all at the same time, but mostly angry.

“I don’t know why you’re acting like this, but I’m not buying any of this nonsense you’re handing me!” Layne informed him in a hot rush of temper.

Creed smiled. “I’m just making sure you have plenty of subject matter for your stories—the perils of ranch life, sexual harassment on the job—”

“You’re crazy.” She frowned at him incredulously.

“I’ve thought that since the day Mattie hired you,” he admitted tersely. “I don’t know who or what you are—or what your game is—but I’m damned sure you aren’t here to write any articles for a newspaper!”

His statement rocked her. Layne paled, unable to think of anything to say to refute him, and her senses were too disturbed by the recent contact with him to allow her mind to think clearly. His look hardened at her silence.

“I was right, wasn’t I?” he muttered, almost angrily.

“Creed—” She rushed to explain but the buzzer sounded to signal that the clothes dryer had automatically shut off. Creed went striding by her to silence it and retrieve his undershirt. At almost the same instant Mattie entered through the back door, carrying a sack of groceries.

As she leaned against the door to push it shut, the suddenly speculating gleam in her faded green eyes slid first to the bare-chested Creed, then to the robed Layne. “Well, what have we here?” murmured Mattie.

Bending, Creed removed his insulated shirt from the dryer and let his glance linger for a small second on Layne. “Layne fell in one of the ponds this afternoon and I fished her out.” The shirt was pulled down over his head, hands jammed through the sleeves.

The very abruptness of his answer, coupled with the grim way Creed had eyed her, prompted Mattie to guess. “And now you wish you’d thrown her back in, is that it?” she joked dryly.

“No …” Creed paused to send a long, considering look at Layne while he pulled the hem of his shirt down around his waist. “I have no intention of letting her off the hook.”

Layne had hoped Mattie’s arrival would bring an end to the conversation but it appeared that Creed was going to pursue it. She couldn’t let him question her about her reasons for staying on the ranch, not in front of Mattie.

“I’d like to talk to you later tonight, Creed … privately,” Layne said with an underlying thread of taut appeal.

His hard study of her continued while he appeared to weigh her words. “If you like,” he finally conceded, then
reached around the corner for his jacket and hat, hanging on a wall peg. “It’s time I started the evening chores, anyway. Come over to the house after supper—and we’ll have
your
talk.” There was the smallest inflection of sardonic mockery in his voice.

The hat was on his head and he was pulling on his coat as he nodded to Mattie and walked out the door, slamming it with a small bang.

Mattie raised an eyebrow at his noisy exit. “It sounds like he’s in a rotten mood,” she observed and eyed Layne. “You look a little pale yourself. Are you sure you didn’t catch a chill from that dunking?”

“No. I’m all right.” Layne glanced at the door through which Creed had gone before slowly following Mattie into the kitchen.

Her thoughts were already turning to the promised meeting with Creed later that night, but it was difficult to string them together in any semblance of order when her body was flooding her mind with impressions of the heavy caress of his hands and the heady taste and smell of him.

The sack of groceries was set on the kitchen counter. “Good. There’s fresh coffee made,” Mattie noticed as she slipped out of her coat and unwound the scarf from around her neck to hang them both on the wall pegs by the back door. “I’m going to sit down and have a cup before I start supper,” she announced. “Do you want one, Layne?”

It was a full second before the question registered. Layne reacted with a vaguely guilty start and answered quickly, “No. Thank you.”

She watched Mattie pour a cup for herself and continued to stare at her when she carried it to the table and sat down. A reluctance to tell Mattie the truth tied her tongue. But it wasn’t just a desire to get to know Mattie better before breaking the news that she was her natural mother
which was keeping Layne silent any longer. Other reasons had come into play. The mere fact that she had waited so long made it awkward to confess now.

And she couldn’t be sure how Mattie would react. There was a chance she’d ask Layne to leave, and Layne wasn’t ready to go. She wouldn’t have been willing under ordinary circumstances, but the way she felt toward Creed made it just that much more definite.

“Is something wrong, Layne?” Mattie said, questioning the way Layne was staring.

“No. Nothing.” Layne’s quickly lowered glance noticed the loosened front of her robe, created by the intimate invasion of Creed’s hand. With a trace of self-consciousness, she pulled the overlapping fold more tightly across her body.

An amused sound came from Mattie, drawing Layne’s glance to her again. “I may be old, but I’m not blind,” she said.

“What?” Layne’s voice was small and slightly wary.

“I’ve noticed the way Creed has been looking at you. Or …” Mattie paused, a faint smile accenting the age lines around her mouth “… maybe I should say the way he has tried so hard
not
to watch you. Any fool would know what’s on his mind. It’s probably on the mind of most men who look at you. Lust is a somewhat common denominator in the male species.” Again that knowing smile was in place, but her gaze was keen in its inspection of Layne. “I see you’re finally aware of the way he feels. In a way, I guess I’ve been trying to warn you.”

“It wasn’t really necessary.” A smile fairly beamed from her face, because a warning was only needed if she had wanted to avoid Creed.

“You’re both grown adults, so I’m sure you’ll sort this out on your own.” Mattie shrugged to indicate that it was really
none of her business. Yet she added, “But things run deep with him. I mean, he isn’t like Hoyt, all happy-go-lucky and carefree. Don’t hurt him.”

“I’d never hurt him, Mattie.” Not deliberately, Layne silently qualified. But the appeal was a sobering reminder that she had to allay his suspicions surrounding her purpose for working on the ranch and explain the truth to him so he’d stop distrusting her. She fingered the collar of her robe. “I left the bathroom in a mess. I’d better go clean it up and get dressed.” Layne started for the doorway. “I’ll be down shortly to give you a hand with supper.”

To Layne’s surprise, she discovered the bathroom had been cleaned. Even her pile of wet clothes had been individually hung over a wall rack where they could drip into the tub, and her hair dryer had been returned to her room. It was obvious Creed had seen to it while she was sleeping. Undoubtedly, it was a reflexive action from his bachelor life that had trained him to a housekeeping role. Layne smiled to herself while she dressed, thinking he was a rare breed of man indeed.

There were no awkward silences at the supper table that evening, although Layne had thought there might be, considering the unfinished conversation with Creed. But she had failed to take into account that Hoyt and Stoney would expect a minute-by-minute description of her accident, both her version and Creed’s, while they inserted comments along the way. Naturally they had their side of it to tell—how they found her horse running loose and intended to start a search when they came to the house and learned from Creed what had happened and that she was safe.

The subject of her near disaster dominated the entire meal. Layne suspected that Mattie was probably the only one who noticed the strong undercurrents running
between herself and Creed. Layne was physically aware of him every minute, her eyes taking note of little details such as the way the lift of his hand set off a ripple of muscles beneath his shirt, the way his fingers held a knife, so she could make them part of the other intimacies she knew about him.

The few times their glances met, she saw the glitter in his desert-brown eyes, which reminded her that their conversation was yet to come. But Layne also noticed that desire that lurked in the brown depths and occasionally dragged his gaze downward to slide over her breasts as if recalling when their only covering had been his hands instead of the ruffled blouse she was wearing now.

Per routine, the men lingered over their coffee while Layne and Mattie cleared the table. With dishwater running in the sink, Layne went back to wipe the crumbs from the vinyl tablecloth. Creed pushed his chair away from the table when she walked over, and crossed to the back door to retrieve his coat and hat.

“I’ll see you later.” It sounded like a generalized farewell, except that his gaze was centered on her when Creed said it. But only Layne knew that the message was directed at her. No one else paid any attention.