Texas-Sized Temptation (3 page)

She laughed softly. “Deal. At least we can try. We'll see how long it lasts.”

“Excellent,” he said, smiling at her. Again, there was a flicker in the depths of her eyes and his insides tightened. She was responsive to him, willing to flirt. She wanted to kiss, he was sure of it, but he was determined to wait until the right moment.

“So, Caitlin, tell me about professional photography. Do you have a studio somewhere?”

“Yes, I do in Houston as well as galleries in Houston and in Santa Fe. I have homes both places.”

“Impressive.”

She smiled as she peered over the edge of her drink at him. “You're not really impressed. I like my work. Actually, I love my work.”

“And what kind of photography do you do?”

“Don't sound as if I'm playing marbles for a living,” she said, her smile taking the bite out of her words. “I take pictures of people, families, children, celebs, pets. I specialize in black-and-white photography of people and children. I already know about you—the CEO of Benton Energy, Inc.
Your father is retired now and you run the company. Your brother Gabe is CEO of Benton Drilling.”

“Right. Before hunger sets in, I'll fire up the grill for steaks. I'll put potatoes in to cook.” He went to the refrigerator to remove the steaks and put them on the grill.

While he cooked, she helped him get salads and water on the table. When she was finished, she perched on the bar stool nearest him to talk to him. “This is a wonderful patio. You can sit outside, yet you're protected from the elements here.”

“I enjoy it when I'm here,” he said, glancing beyond the patio at the pool that was splashing as raindrops hit the blue surface. “No swimming in this weather.” Lightning streaked the sky in a brilliant flash. “If the lightning worries you, we can go inside.”

“I'm fine.”

“So what does worry you, Caitlin?”

“Losing the property, not being able to help the people who worked for Grandmother through the years.”

“I walked into that one.”

“So what worries you, Jake?”

“Business failure. My dad's interference in my life.”

“You're a little old for your daddy to interfere, especially since you're running a large company,” she said and he detected the amusement in her voice.

“Oh, no. I have a manipulative father. At least he tries and I resist. It's not quite the same for my brother. Sometimes I think Brittany dated Will out of rebellion against Dad's constant attempt to dominate her life.”

She laughed. “That's mind-boggling. You are definitely not the type to have someone try to control you.”

He grinned, turning from the steaks to sit near her for a few minutes. “I like your smile, your laughter. When you laugh, it's a sunny spring day.”

“Thank you. That's a nice compliment,” she replied. “Too bad you're not Jake Smith and I'm not Caitlin Jones. The night might be incredibly different.”

“For tonight, we can try to be Jake Smith and Caitlin Jones. We've already agreed to forget business. Just stretch it a little more and pretend we don't have family histories.”

“That's a giant stretch with pitfalls all along the pathway, but it would have been nice,” she added and sipped her water.

He leaned down so his face was closer to hers and her eyes widened. “Try. You have an imagination. See me as someone you just met,” he urged, thinking she had the greenest eyes he had ever seen. Her perfume tormented him and her mouth was a constant temptation.

“While it's an exciting prospect, it's the way to disaster. Impossible,” she answered breathlessly and he was certain she felt the attraction, too.

“Coward,” he teased with a faint smile, wanting to lean the last few inches and kiss her. She tilted her face up another degree.

“Wicked man,” she replied, smiling to make light of her words.

It would be so easy to close the mere inches of distance and kiss her and she wanted the kiss as much as he, but he resisted. He wanted her to be eager to kiss with no hesitation. The tantalizing moments were building his desire. Hopefully, hers, too.

“Your steaks may be crispy now,” she remarked.

He hurried to flip the steaks. He turned, catching her studying him. “Now, wine with dinner?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you,” she replied and he moved behind the bar to get a bottle of Shiraz.

In a short time they were seated near the fireplace with dinner in front of them. She was a dainty eater, telling him
about her gallery in Santa Fe while he mentally peeled away the blue Western shirt. His appetite for steak diminished. To his surprise, he wanted to see her again beyond tonight and he wanted to take her dancing so he could hold her in his arms.

Common sense told him to forget both things. As a Santerre, when they got down to business, she was going to be unhappy with him because he didn't want to leave a Santerre house standing. The people who had worked for her grandmother could retire or find other jobs, he was sure. He would look into hiring them himself.

Out of sentiment Caitlin wanted the house she grew up in, but she spent little time here. She could move everything out of the house into another home elsewhere. He saw no valid reason to sell the place back to her and several reasons to turn her down. He didn't want Santerres left in the county. He didn't want to have to worry about Caitlin and that old house sitting in the center of his property, leaving part of the property out of his control. If Gabe struck oil, it would be even more important to own the land. While he had mineral rights, he didn't want to have to drive around Caitlin's holdings.

Was he being uncooperative because she was a Santerre? So what? It was his property, legally purchased and he couldn't help if her half brother had not informed her about the sale or her father hadn't included her in ownership. From all he'd heard, her father never had involved her in anything in his life. It was solely the grandmother who had adopted Caitlin to give her a Santerre life.

“Your grandmother has been gone now—what—five years?” Jake asked, trying to recall when he heard that Madeline Santerre had passed away.

“Yes. You have an excellent memory because I know that wasn't a date that meant anything to you,” Caitlin replied, looking away. “I loved her with all my heart,” she added
quietly. Her emotional answer indicated she probably cared so much for the people who had worked for her grandmother because she didn't have anyone else. Her father and half brother had rejected her all her life. So had her birth mother in giving her up for adoption. “The minute Grandmother heard my mother planned to put me up for adoption, she stepped up and took me in.”

“So where did you go to college, Caitlin?”

“To Texas University and then to Stanford. My degree is from Stanford. I had intended to go into law, but by my junior year I was earning a lot of money with photography, so I finished college and became a photographer. What about you, Jake?”

“Texas University, too, but years ahead of you. Then a master's in business from Harvard. Then back to work here. Pretty simple and predictable.”

“Sure,” she said, smiling at him. “You told me what you don't like, so what do you like, Jake?”

“Beautiful women, slow, hot kisses—”

She laughed, interrupting him. “That was not what I had in mind. Besides women, what do you like?”

He grinned. “Making money and doing business deals, watching the business grow, the usual. I swim, I play golf, play basketball with my friends, I ski, I like snow-covered mountains or tropical islands. I'm easy to please. Your turn.”

“I'm even easier to please. I like a riveting book, quiet winter nights, getting just the right picture, little children—”

“That sounds like marriage is looming.”

“Not at all. No man in my life, but I hope someday. Don't you want to marry someday?”

“Yes, but not this year,” he said a little more forcefully than he had intended.

She laughed. “Okay, so you're not ready. I think I can make the same promise safely. I will not marry this year,” she said, mimicking him and he had to smile and was relieved she made light of his comment.

The rain turned to a steady, moderate rain. Jake took her hand, aware of her smooth skin, the warmth and softness of her. “Let's go in where it's warmer. I'm glad we don't have to get out in this,” he said.

She looked down at her clothes. “I just have what I'm wearing. If you can stand seeing me in the same thing in the morning, only more wrinkled, I'm happy to stay because water may be over some of the bridges, I'd guess.”

“Great.” He switched on lights in the living area. The fire had burned low and he added logs.

He put on music and took her hand, pulling her to her feet. “Come here, Caitlin, and let's dance,” he said, drawing her to him on the polished oak floor in a space between area rugs.

She came into his arms easily, following his lead. He liked holding her, wanting her more with each hour that passed. Common sense still screamed to keep his distance to avoid entanglement of any kind with her, but it was a losing argument. It would be the ultimate irony to seduce Will's half sister, except Will wouldn't care because he obviously had no fondness or even polite consideration for Caitlin.

Jake tightened his arms around her and moved slowly with her. “This is good, Caitlin,” he said quietly, more to himself than her.

“Not wise, but it's good,” she added, indicating that she must hold the same view of getting acquainted that he had.

“So you like to dance.”

“I love to dance and I'm glad you thought of this,” she said softly. They moved quietly, conversation ceasing and he was sorry when the music came to an end.

She looked up at him. He held her lightly in his embrace and he felt as if he were tumbling down into a sea of green, falling headlong without any hope of stopping. He had waited long enough.

C
aitlin's heart drummed as she gazed into Jake Benton's eyes. Her afternoon had turned her world topsy-turvy. All her life she had been given reasons to dislike the Bentons. Her grandmother had hated Jake's father for things he had done to her son, Caitlin's father, in the years the men were growing up. They had been thrown together at school as well as in town. Grandmother had disliked Jake because of complaints about him from Will.

During the past month, Caitlin herself had developed hostility toward Jake, which had increased swiftly when she found a stone wall of interference keeping her from contacting him.

He was important, busy, an oil millionaire, but he should have had a streak of common courtesy to at least take a phone call from someone from the neighboring ranch. While the bitterness between the families could have made him
unreceptive, she suspected he was never even told that she was trying to contact him.

Growing up, she had disliked the Bentons because she had been taught to. Jake's snubs had added fuel to the fires of contempt. The only way to get the property back from him was to communicate with him. When she had learned he was expected at the West Texas ranch, she had decided to confront him to force him to listen to her request.

He was being as stubborn as she had expected. What she hadn't anticipated was the scalding chemistry the moment they were face-to-face. It was an intense attraction he felt as much as she did. He also probably hated it as much as she did. Except he had seduction in his eyes. She could imagine how much it would amuse him to seduce a Santerre, even one on the fringe of the family. Titus Santerre's illegitimate child whom he only grudgingly acknowledged because his own mother adopted her.

The thoughts swirled briefly and then vanished. Caitlin's gaze locked with Jake's. His blue eyes held a blatant hunger. Her breathing altered while her temperature rose and her heart skipped. She tilted her face up, knowing she should step away and never kiss him, never open a Pandora's box of problems.

The instant attraction had mushroomed with each hour. A kiss might send it soaring out of control. She had no intention of repeating her mother's big mistake in life that had left Caitlin abandoned and hurt.

“Caitlin,” Jake said in a quiet, husky voice that conveyed desire and was an invitation to her.

How could she have this intense sexy reaction to him? A man she had disliked her entire life even though she had never known him or talked to him before?
Get away from him,
an inner feeling urged. He was over six feet of danger to her
peace of mind. A kiss would only make things worse. There was no way a kiss would have positive results.

“No,” she whispered without moving an inch.

He slipped his hand behind her head, cupping her head lightly. “This is something we both want,” he whispered, his gaze lowering to her mouth. “I have since we were standing on the porch this afternoon.”

Her lips parted, tingled in anticipation. She was lost to his seductive ways and her own desire, the volatile chemistry between them, her own foolishness.

He leaned down, slowly, tantalizingly. His tongue stroked her lower lip and then he brushed her mouth with his own. Electricity streaked as swiftly as a bolt of lightning flashing outside. Her insides knotted while she slid an arm around his neck. She moved as if she were a puppet with someone else pulling the strings.

His arm tightened around her waist, drawing her more tightly against him.

His kiss scalded, teased. Lust burst in her, sending sparks through her being. She wanted him, needing to touch and kiss and make love. Yet the nagging knowledge that she was kissing a Benton persisted for minutes until his kiss demolished her concern.

Her sigh was consumed by his mouth over hers. When he leaned over her, she tightened her arm around his neck, her body molding to his long, hard strength. Her heart drummed as need built. She wanted him to keep kissing her, longed to run her hands over him.

Fireworks burst in her. His spectacular kisses thawed resistance, escalating her longing and response. She pressed against him to hold him tighter, kissing him with all her being, intending to make him melt and give in to her requests. Caution no longer existed.

His tongue stroked hers; she kissed him deeply in return,
slowly thrusting her tongue over his. The faint moans of pleasure were hers. Her hand went to his shirt to twist free top buttons and slip her fingers across his warm, muscled chest.

Running his hands through her hair, he sent pins tumbling and auburn locks falling.

Hot, low inside her, need heightened. She craved him with a hunger that built with each kiss.

Jake's hand slipped down her back to her waist, sliding lightly over her bottom.

His breathing was as ragged as hers and beneath her hand his heartbeat raced. Caressing her nape, he trailed his fingers to her throat, drifting lower lightly down over her breast to her waist.

As he caressed her, the tingling electricity finally sent a warning that broke through her stormy senses. Moving mechanically, she stepped back a fraction to stop their kisses.

“Jake, wait. This is getting out of hand. I never intended this to happen and neither did you.”

He framed her face with his hands. “You never expected it to happen when you came to my place. From the moment we faced each other on the porch, we both wanted to kiss. It was inevitable. I still desire you and you still want me to kiss you because it shows in your expression.”

With his words her heart raced faster. He was right and it was obvious, but that didn't make it acceptable. He had nothing to lose. She definitely did.

“Okay, so it shows. Common sense tells me to stop. You and I aren't friends. That's a prerequisite to me for someone to be a lover. An extremely close friend.”

Her heart raced as she talked and her gaze was held by his that conveyed his desire. She wanted to lean the last few inches and return to his steamy kisses. He was on target
totally, but she had some resistance. Reminding herself of her mission and that he was a Benton, she moved away. “I think we should stop dancing and go back to conversation,” she said, heading toward a sofa. She turned to glance at him.

He stood watching her. Locks of his brown hair had fallen across his forehead. His tight jeans revealed his desire that hadn't diminished. Even with distance between them, his expression held lust. His gaze roamed slowly over her and his perusal might as well have been a caress.

Tingling, her body sent entirely different signals from what her logic conveyed. Without taking his gaze from hers, he crossed the room to her. Each step closer made her heart flutter faster. He walked up to her, wrapping his arms around her, bending to kiss her. It was a demanding, possessive kiss that seared and made her weak in the knees.

His hand locked behind her head, his fingers tangling in her hair while he kissed her and shattered her resistance. She pressed against him, losing the battle willingly, pouring kisses back while she clung to him with her arm around his neck. Her other hand roamed down his back and then across the strong column of his neck. Her fingers combed through his short, thick hair. She was never going to forget Jake's kisses. The fleeting thought was as unwanted as his kisses
should
have been.

Why did he have such a devastating effect?

She didn't care why or how threatening they were. His kisses made her want more of him, made her respond and moan with pleasure. Kisses that locked in memory as they awakened needs long dormant, exploded longing and imagination.

When his hands began to free the buttons of her shirt, she gathered her wits to take another stand.

“Jake, stop now. I have to.” She gasped for air, looking up
at him, fighting the temptation to rake her fingers through his unruly locks to comb them off his forehead.

Giving her a searching look, he released her. “Want a glass of water or anything to drink?” he asked suddenly. When she declined, he turned and left the room.

She didn't know if he had to put distance between them to help them both cool or just wanted a drink. Whatever the reason, she welcomed his absence and was grateful he had left her. While her heart raced, her breathing sounded as if she had just run a race.

Why, oh, why had she found this excitement and magnetism with Jake Benton—literally the worst person she could think of to feel drawn to.

On the other hand, she should seize the moment, take advantage of the heat between them—as he would—and try to win his cooperation about selling to her.

She glanced at the rain that was coming down harder again. She was in for hours more with Jake and she intended to make the most of them without yielding to his seductive lovemaking.

She sat on the sofa, still conscious of the slight brush of their fingers as he joined her to sit near her.

“When do we return to business?” she asked.

“How about next week when I've had time to think about this? You've known you want to buy back the property, but this is all new to me since late afternoon.”

“Why do I suspect you're stalling, although I don't know why you would. Maybe the prospect of seduction tonight is keeping you from flinging a refusal at me.”

One corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “That's a sufficient enough reason,” he said, turning to look into her eyes. Tingling again, she drew a deep breath.

“I don't know why I have this reaction to you,” she admitted.

One dark eyebrow arched. “Man, beautiful woman, there it is,” he said. “Elemental.”

“Not even remotely elemental,” she replied. “I hate to admit to you, few men have the effect you've had.”

Something flickered in the depths of his eyes and his chest expanded as he drew a deep breath.

“Oh, my, I shouldn't have divulged that to you,” she said, her pulse drumming again.

“No, you shouldn't have if you want me to keep my distance. Remarks like that—there's no way in hell I can sit back and say, ‘How nice.'” He moved closer. His arm went around her waist and he lifted her to his lap.

Her instant protest ended as his mouth met hers and they kissed again. Her heart pounded while she clung to him, kissing him hungrily. He cradled her against his shoulder, kissing her while his free hand ran over her hip and along her thigh, sliding up to her breast to stroke in slow circles that taunted even through her lacy bra and cotton shirt.

Fiery tingles radiated from his touch. She should have left well enough alone, but the thought was dim and slid away. Desire surged in a scalding heat running in her veins.

His hand slipped down over her stomach, inching lower between her thighs. Even through her heavy jeans, she could feel his touch as if it were fire.

With an effort she sat up. While she gasped for breath, she gripped his wrist to hold his free hand. “You stop. I shouldn't have told you what I did. We've gone too far too fast.”

“Not at all,” he argued in a husky, gravelly tone.

She slipped off his lap to the other end of the sofa where she turned to face him. His hooded gaze indicated he still wanted her.

“We should get on some safe topic. Tell me about your hobbies. Your brother and your parents. Your controlling father that meddles in your life.”

“My father is the last thing I want to discuss or even think about tonight. I've been enjoying the evening beyond the obvious frustrations. I do not need to drag anger back into my life.” He stood. “I'm getting a beer. Want something else? Soft drink? How about homemade lemonade? Juice, milk, wine, martini, any mixed drink—whatever you like?”

“I'll have that lemonade, please, which sounds absolutely wonderful.”

“I won't tell you what sounds absolutely wonderful to me,” he said, his suggestive drawl conveying a double entendre that was as sizzling as his touch.

“Stop that, Jake. No flirting, no more remarks that are personal.”

“Aw, shucks,” he drawled, making her chuckle. “Where's the fun in that?”

“Humor me. I caused the last crisis, but we can avoid future ones.”

“If my kisses are a ‘crisis,' then I have no intentions of avoiding flirting with you.”

“Go get the beer and lemonade,” she said quietly, wanting to end the volatile conversation that could put them back in each other's arms easily.

She watched him walk away, a masculine stride that was purposeful, hinting of the excellent physical condition he must be in.

Her thoughts were filled with guilt. Why, oh, why had she flirted with him so openly when she had known what the consequences would be?

She couldn't understand her reaction to him, couldn't explain it. It didn't happen with other men, but that definitely did not make Jake “Mr. Right.” He was Mr. Wrong in so many ways.

She thought about her grandmother who would be shaking her head and frowning at the idea of spending an evening in
the company of a Benton. She never could have explained a relationship with a Benton to her grandmother. Grandmother had been furious with Will for going out with Brittany Benton.

If Will knew she was with Jake tonight, he would be disgusted because of the lifelong competition between the two in school and sports. Then again, perhaps he would shrug it off that she was spending time with Jake because Will also held a low opinion of her, as well. She thought Will had been dazzled by Brittany at first. She also suspected he liked sneaking around, getting away with something that would annoy both families because it stirred talk and envy among his peers.

Jake returned with a cold bottle of beer for himself and a tall, frosty glass of lemonade for her, placing the drinks on a table in front of the sofa.

Only a few feet away, he sat, facing her, and taking a drink of beer.

“The lemonade is delicious.”

“I can't take credit. I have a cook.”

“Does your cook live in town?”

“Nope. His wife cooks for the men on the ranch and they live in a house here on the ranch. Our foreman also has a house of his own. We've got a big complex with several homes.”