Chapter Four #2
“How did we get back on the subject of my dad? Damn. There are better things to talk about. And a lot better things to do,” he said in a thicker voice as his gaze lowered to her mouth.
Her heart drummed. She wanted his kiss, even after spending the past hour learning that he was a man bent on revenge.
She shouldn’t kiss him. She shouldn’t even stay the rest of the week on his ranch.
She could work from her office in Kansas City.
She was set up here with all kinds of electronic equipment and could work all week undisturbed, but here she would see Blake.
With the attraction that burned between them, she should be packing her bags now.
If only she could remember how opposite they were and not be dazzled by hot kisses, flirting and sexy smiles.
If only she didn’t respond to his slightest touch, to just being near him. A week and then they’d part—surely for one week she could keep her heart and head intact.
As she looked up into midnight eyes, she knew she was making promises to herself she couldn’t keep.
She lowered her gaze to his mouth and then looked back up to his brown eyes.
“Sierra,” he said quietly, sliding his arms lightly around her waist and leaning down to kiss her.
Standing on tiptoe, she kissed him in return, shutting off all thoughts of packing and leaving. She just let go and enjoyed his kiss.
Soon enough they would say goodbye permanently, and a few kisses tonight wouldn’t matter at all.
His arms tightened as he leaned over her and his kiss deepened, becoming more passionate. He ran one hand through her hair, down her back and then over her bottom, under the hem of her skirt and along her thigh.
His warm hand, barely stroking her, drifted up along her leg and then moved between her thighs. Gasping, she clung to him while she thrust her hips against him. He was aroused, hard and ready.
“Blake, slow down. We’re going too fast for me.”
“We have something here, and we both like it,” he replied gruffly.
“Kisses aren’t enough,” she whispered, clearing her throat. “Goodnight, Blake.” She stood on tiptoe to brush a kiss on his cheek.
“Sure you don’t want to come to my suite, have another drink?”
She laughed. “I’m sure, but good try. Such a subtle approach,” she added, shaking her head.
He grinned. “I keep waiting and hoping you’ll ask me into your suite. I’m good company at night.”
She laughed. “I’m sure you’re fabulous company, and I know you have the best kisses this side of the Atlantic Ocean, but I have to say good-night.” Smiling, she brushed his cheek with another kiss and went up to her room.
Picking up her phone, she saw two messages from Bert.
He had worked late, which wasn’t unusual.
Far more than any of her family, Bert worried about her constantly, and she had answered half a dozen text messages since she’d landed on Sunday.
Sending him another reassuring text, she placed her phone on a bedside table and hoped she didn’t hear anything more from him until tomorrow.
Long after she went to bed, she lay in the dark, thinking about all Blake had told her about his dad. There was a tough, hard side to Blake. She could see why. She didn’t think he had chosen the right way to deal with his father, but she could understand his anger.
She sighed because she was certain Blake would have no part in calling his father or doing any such grown-up thing.
He was bent on revenge, and she couldn’t sway him.
She had no intention of sticking around to try, either.
Blake was not the man for her, so with their wild chemistry, she was running risks every time she was with him.
Finish this job for him, go home and never look back. That’s what she needed to do. She didn’t want a broken heart, didn’t want to fall in love with a man who would spend his life on revenge, a cynical man who was set on getting even with his father instead of trying to seek reconciliation.
Tossing and turning through the night, she tried to get Blake out of her thoughts. For the majority of the night, though, she was unsuccessful.
On Tuesday Lucinda and Eli arrived, and Sierra spent a busy day working with them as they took measurements and discussed possibilities.
That night Blake returned from his work out on the ranch and met with them in the informal sitting room, where he served glasses of wine and they talked.
She was surprised when Eli and Blake found they had favorite artists in common: David Hockney and Gerhard Richter.
They discussed art, architecture and furniture design.
Eli left to get a portfolio to show Blake.
It surprised her how attentive and engaged Blake was throughout the evening.
Blake even asked about Lucinda’s husband and three-year-old daughter.
During another delicious dinner of salmon, green beans, a salad and hot rolls, Blake smiled at Lucinda as he passed a crystal bowl of strawberry jam.
“Next time you come—and Sierra said you and Eli will be back later in the project—we’ll have barbecue.
I’m taking Sierra Thursday night to eat at a place that has some of the best.”
“I’ve been to Texas before and I love barbecue,” Eli said. “I’ll be counting on that.”
Blake was charming with his new guests. This polite, friendly evening was so different from her first evening with him. Again, she wondered at the response they stirred in each other, something she had never experienced with anyone else.
With Lucinda and Eli present, there was more talk after dinner about various artists and buildings that Blake liked, and they all looked again at the new wing.
When they said good-night and thanked Blake, Sierra went to her room, turning in early and going over notes she had made during the day.
On Wednesday, Lucinda and Eli flew back to New York. Sierra returned to poring over catalogues.
Blake continued to charm her, talking about suggestions Eli had made that he liked. After dinner they returned to the new wing while she went over some of the suggested changes. Throughout it all they managed to remain professional.
On Thursday she couldn’t keep her mind on her work. She had agreed to go to dinner with Blake tonight. Tomorrow she would fly home for a family picnic that had become a spring tradition, growing in size each year. But tonight...
Sierra stopped work at four to get ready for the evening out. The minute she had accepted Blake’s invitation to eat barbecue, she’d complicated her life more. She should’ve turned him down, but the words wouldn’t come. She wanted to go out with him.
In spite of all her warnings to herself, she spent more than an hour getting ready to go, finally settling on jeans, boots and a red cotton shirt. As she dressed, she felt eager to spend the evening with Blake, knowing she would have a good time and a fabulous dinner.
And later—her thoughts stopped there. She wouldn’t think about his kisses, or how she should resist them. After brushing her hair vigorously, she let it fall free. She picked up a white Resistol, and with one final look in the mirror, she left to find Blake.
When she entered the library, her breath caught.
Looking more handsome and sexier than ever, Blake stood across the room.
He wore a brown Western shirt that complemented his good looks.
His tight jeans fit slender hips and long legs, and the cowboy boots added to his height.
The instant her gaze met his, she was hopelessly lost, dazzled by the prospect of a fun evening out with him.
“Wow, lady, you look great,” he said, enthusiasm filling his husky voice as his gaze swept over her again. “Every guy in the county will want to meet you.”
“You wanted me to meet the locals.”
“Yeah, so I did,” he said, still studying her and sounding as if he was thinking more about something other than his answer. “Ready? Let’s go get one of the best barbecue dinners you’ll ever eat.”
As the sun cast longer shadows, Blake drove to Marvina, a small town that looked only half a dozen blocks long. In the center of what had to be the main street was a restaurant with a red neon sign declaring the place to be Barney Jack’s Bar-B-Q.
Inside they were seated in a booth in a dark corner.
There was a dance floor, but no musicians yet, and no dancers as people talked and ate, and busy wait staff scurried back and forth with trays heaped with baskets of shoestring fries, wrapped sandwiches and bottles of beer or frosty mugs of iced tea.
“If this barbecue is as good as it smells, then it will live up to all you said.”
“It’s the best ever.”
“You lived in town, so when did you get this love of ranching and the cowboy life?”
“My maternal grandfather was a rancher. I inherited his spread. I spent a good part of my childhood there and I loved it. I loved him,” Blake said.
In the dim light she couldn’t see any difference in his expression, but his tone of voice changed, and she suspected his grandfather had been important to him.
“So, you did have family who loved you in addition to your mom.”
“Yep, my mother’s parents meant a lot to me.
I never met my paternal grandparents, and both died when I was in high school.
” As Blake talked, she watched two men step up on the stage.
As they spread out to start playing a fiddle and bass, couples moved to the dance floor and in seconds dancers circled the floor in a brisk two-step.
A waiter appeared to take their order, and as soon as he left Blake slid out of the booth and held out his hand. “Let’s dance,” he said.
She started to protest, listening to the music and watching the few dancers.
But she took his hand and stood up. In seconds they were on the dance floor, keeping time with the music.
For a few minutes, it was fun to stop thinking about problems and differences and tomorrows—to just enjoy the moment dancing with a tall, sexy rancher who set her heart fluttering and would kiss her later.