Chapter Nineteen
Watching her as closely as always, Ben missed nothing. He must have sensed her hesitation.
His eyes flamed.
In the next instant, Sarah knew if she didn’t stop him, he’d sweep her into his arms. She’d find herself flat on her back and covered by a single-minded, sexily hungry Ben Paxton.
Despite privately acknowledging her feelings, she wasn’t ready for that. “I’m still starving,” she said in a hurry. Brushing past him, she escaped into the kitchen. “Let’s eat!”
Sighing again, Ben was gracious enough to chuckle. He followed to collect the food bag and put it on a square dining table. “Almost had you,” he said. “Just barely missed out.”
Ignoring him, she found utensils in a drawer and began scooping mashed potatoes onto the included paper plates. “Gravy?” she asked, innocently. It wasn’t easy, beating back the building attraction she felt for him, and every minute it grew more difficult.
Since she’d only known him three days, the blazing heat level simmering between them seemed crazy. Irresistible.
But it was too soon. Too shallow. Did he want her for the same reasons so many others had—because of her fame? Her celebrity? Had he seen her striking poses in airbrushed magazine ads, in commercials carefully designed by Lighting, Wardrobe, Makeup and Hair, to show her at her best?
Because that wasn’t her. That was only a picture, or a short clip on television. It was a product presentation carefully fashioned to convince people to part with their money. She was merely the vehicle, the surface, the face.
No, it wasn’t her, not the inner her.
And while she instinctively trusted Ben Paxton with her life, she barely knew him. In the past, she’d had gentlemen friends, but even in her wildest days she’d never slept around.
In her deepest, most feminine self, she hoped to be wanted for who she truly was, the person inside. She wanted to be known. To be understood. To be cherished.
And she yearned to give those things back to a man with all the full force of her beating heart.
Nobody could learn those things and come to that place in only a few days. The conclusion cooled her, helped clarify her mind.
Ben made no further offers or suggestions. However, at all times he seemed to keep her under constant watch.
By the time they managed to eat companionably and clean up the mess, it was late afternoon.
“Are we off to your company?” she asked.
“Yep. I’m way behind at work.”
“I won’t get in your way,” she promised.
Within minutes, they parked in an industrial section of Austin, mostly concrete tilt-up buildings housing large manufacturing and packaging companies.
The several-building complex, which fell under the Paxton Security contracting business, was outwardly unremarkable from the other businesses in the area.
Ben pushed open the glass front door and held it for Sarah. She preceded him into an air-conditioned and carpeted office featuring four women at work on telephones or computer terminals. All eyes latched onto Sarah and all four mouths dropped open.
After a brief hushed silence, Sarah made a shy wave to them. “Hi,” she said.
“Super Sarah,” the oldest woman, perhaps in her forties breathed. She had dark hair cut short and wore jeans and a tank top. Her desk plate read: Marge, Amazing Office Manager.
Sarah offered her hand. “I’m Sarah Lang. You’re Marge?” When the other woman extended her hand, Sarah enclosed it in both her own. “You must be amazing to organize this guy’s office.” She sent a thumb Ben’s way.
“Ben didn’t tell us he was bringing you in,” Marge said, sending him an accusing glance. “You’re a wicked, wicked man, Ben Paxton. Why’d you keep this secret?”
“Uh, for her safety,” he replied, as though it was obvious. “Nobody else can know, understood?”
He received four nods, then told them, “She’s Rio’s sister.”
The women gasped. “Rio’s sister!” Marge exclaimed. “He’s mentioned a sister named Sarah, but we didn’t know it was her.” Marge turned to Sarah. “Here and there we’ve gotten a few celebrities needing our services. Never someone like you—a supermodel.”
“Oh, forget about that.” Sarah dismissed the comment. “I’m not in the industry anymore. Now, I’m a rancher.”
“And up in Montana she’s opening a feed barn,” Ben added. He introduced her all around. “Sarah, you’ve met Marge. This is Tulip, Sunny, and Linda. They work the phones, the computers, wrangle paperwork, deal with the guys. They do it all.”
Tulip, Sunny, and Linda came around their desks to meet her.
“I’ve got every magazine cover you’ve ever done,” Tulip, a tall thirtyish woman said. “I love them all. Especially the Sports Illustrated ones.”
“You’re even more attractive in person than in photos,” Sunny, a plump black woman remarked.
A redhead, Linda, stepped forward. “What a treat! We knew Ben was protecting someone named Sarah, but not which Sarah. Cool!”
“I don’t pose for photographers anymore,” Sarah said. “Now, I’m usually in dirty boots and grimy jeans herding cattle or mucking out horse stalls.” She gave a light laugh.
“It’s like she’s a real person.” Sunny’s smile grew wide. “Like—like a human being.”
“Look!” Tulip pointed at Sarah’s boots. “Look, her boots are dusty and worn. And her shirt doesn’t look new.”
“She’s like us,” Linda concluded.
“Of course I am.” Sarah gave a laugh. “There’s nothing different about me from you. I’m a normal woman.”
“Sure,” Marge said. “The only things different are, um ... your fame.”
“Your beauty,” Tulip point out.
“And your charisma,” Sunny said.
“Oh, stop.” Sarah held up her hands. “Now, put me to work. I’m a filing champ, or I can stuff envelopes, or type up invoices. Anything that needs doing. I’ll even clean the bathroom.”
Ben spoke up. “I’ll be in my office. And Sarah’s not cleaning the bathroom. We have a janitorial service for that.”
Immediately, the women began chattering. They wanted to share desk photos of their spouses and children, to ask her about various actors and what they were really like. They wanted intimate details about the life of a top-level celebrity and their curiosity was voracious.
****
From the door of his private office, Ben said above the noise, “How about you people get back to work?”
As usual, his office staff ignored him. If they weren’t incredibly efficient and responsive to the needs of the company, he’d have had to crack the whip.
Not that that would work. The women in this office ruled the roost.
Letting out a snort, he walked to his desk and sat looking at the pile of paperwork, phone messages, and printed-out emails that all needed attention.
In the outer office, Sarah had already charmed his entire office staff.
Well, she’d charmed him, hadn’t she?
He didn’t want to think about how the men were going to fall all over her.
Just like the Mountain Wood townspeople, his staff instantly felt an affinity and liking for Sarah Lang.
People were naturally drawn to her warmth and generosity.
She was genuine, and she meant everything she said.
Others sensed her innate honesty. She did have charisma, dammit, and it had come through the camera lens. No wonder she was so famous.
Clean the bathroom, indeed. Ben rolled his eyes.
Yet he had little doubt that if Marge had handed over a bowl brush and cleaning fluid, Sarah would have happily gone right to work scrubbing toilets.
She wasn’t proud, and she always carried her weight.
He really liked her. She was just damn good people. His kind of people.
His kind of woman.
Before taking a seat and tackling the stack of work, he took a moment to look through the window at the workout area as a group of men performed unending jumping jacks, arduous pushups, and flat-on-their-back flutter kicks.
Satisfied that a high level of fitness was being achieved, he settled in behind his desk.
Deeply involved in work, he realized an hour had passed when Sarah knocked on his door.
“Okay if I come inside? I think the long day has gotten to me, and I’d like to take you up on a nap on your couch.
” Her eyes searched the office and found a small anteroom off the back. A sofa was visible through the door.
Ben looked up with pleasure. Normally when so deep in work he disliked interruptions, but Sarah could interrupt all she liked.
He got up and came around the desk to stroke her shoulder.
“Tired, huh? Sure, take a nap. You can close the door back there. Want a cold water bottle?” From a small refrigerator, he pulled out a bottle and handed it her.
She noticed the window and went to peer at the class of perspiring men. “Wow,” she said, sipping her water, “your guys are fit.”
“We place a good deal of importance on physical training.”
“I can see that.”
At that moment, a tall, muscular blond man pushed through the door carrying a newspaper.
Seeing who it was, Sarah launched herself into his arms. “Rio!” She hugged her brother, and he laughed.
“Whoa, there, little sis. Thanks for texting me that you’re here. But don’t hurt me. I’m not getting much sleep. I’m delicate now.”
She guffawed. He was the same age as Ben, thirty-eight, and just as strong. In the prime of his life, he exuded health and humor. “Delicate, my butt,” she said. “How are you? How’s Becca? And the babies? I can’t wait to see them.”
“We’re all fine,” he said. “However, I really do need sleep. Those little buggers do a lot of wailing. The important thing is how are you?”
Her smile remained. “I’m good. Ben’s watching over me.”
Ben and Rio bumped knuckles and gave each other a shoulder slap.
Rio addressed her. “Big Jim told me about the dustups in town with that woman getting attacked—and then the truck accident.”
“I couldn’t take time to phone,” Ben said. “Needed to get Sarah here fast. So, I asked Jim to fill you in.”
“No worries. On the way over here, I went to the stop-and-rob quickie mart for a soda,” Rio said, “and spotted this little gem at the checkout register.” Tossing his newspaper onto Ben’s desk, Rio waited expectantly.
Ben saw that it was a tabloid.
The papers hit the countertop with a snap.
The headline shouted, We Found Super Sarah! It showed a photo of Ben standing in front of her truck, hands on hips, looking pissed, and a grainy shot of her, sitting in the cab behind him. Sarah grabbed the paper and read the copy aloud.
Hiding in plain sight, long-lost Supermodel Sarah Lang has been discovered at her childhood Montana home—a quaint and rustic cattle ranch!
How much longer fashion’s super star will remain a hermit is anybody’s guess, but this man seemed to think it his responsibility to warn our investigative journalist off her.
Just who is the sexy mystery hunk? Is he the reason she’s left us all behind? Stay tuned!
“Argh!” Sarah crumpled the paper in her hands and let out a little scream.