by Jaci Burton
He leaned back in the chair, his hands wrapped around an oversized mug of coffee. “You sure about that? We have some chemistry, Alice.”
“We do not have chemistry.”
“If you say so.”
The way he looked at her, the heat in his eyes, was extremely disconcerting.
Focus on the questions, Alice.
She dragged her focus away from his beautifully rugged face and back onto her laptop. “What do you typically like to do on a first date with a woman?”
“That answer depends on the woman, since you’re not all the same. Some women actually would enjoy beer and pool on a Friday night”—he stopped to give her a raised brow to emphasize his statement—“while others would want to have dinner at a nice restaurant. Some might want to hang out at home, order pizza and watch a movie just so we could talk and get to know each other. Another woman might be more interested in going to see a basketball game. Or maybe go to a museum.”
“And you’d be interested in doing any of those things.”
He shrugged. “I’m interested in doing a lot of different things. I’m not just a rancher. I like to get out of my element and learn something new.”
She stared at him. Dammit. She loved that answer. He really thought about what a woman might want to do. And he was open to new experiences. A lot of guys just did their own thing, expecting the woman to fall in line.
“That’s . . . very nice.”
“What’s your idea of the perfect first date, Alice?”
“I like to spend time talking to the guy, asking questions so I can get to know who he is. And I would hope he would ask questions to find out more about me.”
He nodded. “You’d probably be more comfortable with me cooking you dinner at my place, so we could get to know each other better with no distractions. That way you could ask your questions. And I could ask mine.”
She swallowed, her throat dusty dry at the thought of being alone with him. At watching him cook. At snuggling up with him next to a fire and letting things just . . . happen.
She cleared her throat. “Yes, something along those lines would be an ideal first date.”
“We should try that.”
She blinked. “Try what?”
“Me fixing you dinner.”
“At your parents’ house?”
He laughed. “I don’t live with my parents, Alice. I have my own house.”
She frowned. “I thought you lived on your parents’ ranch.”
“I live on the Henry ranch, which is the acreage owned by the family. I’ve bought my own piece of property there from my parents, built my own house there.”
“Oh. I see.” She felt herself getting warmer. “That was . . . uh . . . that was actually one of the questions I was going to ask. Let me find that.”
She normally had all her questions lined up in the order she wanted to ask them. But Clay was so open and honest and volunteering information so readily, she had a hard time keeping up. And now she was flustered because everything was out of order.
She looked at him. “This is not going at all like I thought it would.”
He quirked a smile. “Yeah? How did you think it was going to go?”
“I thought you’d resist, that I would have to work hard to pull information out of you. Instead, you . . . you . . . you’re so open and nice.”
He laughed, and the sound hit her hard.
“You didn’t think I’d be nice?”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I thought . . . well, you didn’t want to do this, so I assumed you wouldn’t want to answer any of my questions. Instead, you’ve been forthcoming and honest and . . .”
“And that’s a problem?”
Lord, he was frustrating. “No, of course not.”
She’d never been more flustered in her entire life. This never happened to her.
She placed her laptop on the side table and stood. “I need a minute.”
“Sure.”
He leaned back, his long legs taking up so much space in the room she had to step around them.
She left the room and walked down the hall to . . . She had no idea where to go, so she went upstairs to her room, closed the door and leaned against it. She took in a deep breath, then exhaled.
Get a grip, Alice. You always control the interview.
So why was this one getting away from her?
She’d interviewed plenty of good-looking guys before. High-powered executives and even famous men. She’d never once been affected, because this was her job. Her livelihood. She prided herself on her professionalism.
But thirty minutes in a room with Clay Henry and she was dissolving into a puddle of . . .
Heated interest. Was that chemistry? Undoubtedly, she had an attraction to Clay. He was gorgeous, hot as hell, and did things to her libido that overrode her normal sense of logic.
That could not be allowed.
She would not, could not be interested in a man she now considered a client.
So she was going to have to get it together, shove whatever “interest” had momentarily distracted her, go back down there and get the job done.
Like a professional.
She took several deep breaths to clear her head, then went back downstairs and into the drawing room. Clay was staring out the window, and she took a moment to admire the hell out of his back, his long legs and his extremely fine ass. Truly, the man was a very fine specimen, and he would make some woman who was not her a great partner.
He turned and smiled at her and her firm resolve weakened a bit at the genuineness of his smile.
“You okay?”
“Fine. Are you ready to get started again?”
“Sure. But first, a chemistry test.”
She shot him a confused frown. “A what?”
He walked over to her and picked up her hand, sliding his along hers. “A chemistry test, Alice. If you fail, you let me cook you dinner.”
“I understand chemistry, Clay. I just don’t think it’s the most important factor in any relationship.”
He rubbed his thumb over the top of her hand, making her weak in the knees.
“Whereas I think it is the most important factor. Because without it, you’ve got nothing to build on.”
“I disagree.”
“Fine. But I’d like to kiss you, if you’ll let me. If you enjoy it, you let me cook dinner for you at my house. If you feel nothing, we go on with this matchmaking thing.”
She tilted her head back and stared up at his panty-melting brown eyes. “I have a counterproposal.”
His lips curved. “Go on.”
“If I feel nothing, you agree to take my services seriously instead of just giving me lip service.”
“Oh, I intend to give you lip service, Alice.”
His voice had gone low, and her heart rate had gone up. But she was still sure she could remain unaffected. Chemistry was so unimportant in the overall schematic of a relationship. Clay had to be made to understand that. Sure, she had chemistry with him, but it wasn’t the be-all, end-all of finding a lasting relationship, which she knew Clay was in desperate need of. Since she had zero intention of feeling anything for him, this would be easy. She’d end up with a client who desperately needed her help. And all it would cost her was a kiss to prove it.
“Do we have a deal?” she asked.
“Yes. Can I kiss you now?”
She wished she could calm her heart rate and keep her body from quivering in anticipation. But that was simply biology, and that could be ignored.
“Yes.”
He slid his hand along the side of her neck to tilt her head back, waiting until their eyes met, until she saw his intent, until she saw the flare of passion in his dark warm gaze. Then he fitted his mouth to hers. His tongue slipped inside, hot and d
elicious and making her melt all over as she couldn’t help but lean against him, seeking out more of his heat. He wrapped an arm around her and brought her closer to his strength, his warmth, all that muscle enveloping her as he deepened the kiss.
She reached out to grab on to his arm, her other hand resting against the steely hardness of his chest. Involuntarily, she slipped her fingers between the buttons of his shirt to seek out his bare skin, wishing they weren’t in the drawing room. She felt a need to unbutton his shirt, to slide her palm against his chest.
Frustrated, she moaned, and he groaned in response and tugged her closer. She felt the raging heat of his erection, and her nipples hardened, her body dampened and quivered and, oh, God, she was in serious trouble here, because there was no way she could deny her pure chemical reaction to Clay’s kiss.
She wanted more. She wanted him. Naked, moving inside of her, making her come until she screamed his name.
He pulled back, and she licked her lips, so raw with need that she actually took a hesitant step forward. Until she realized where they were. And what she’d just gambled on.
But she wasn’t the only one affected. Clay was breathing heavily, his eyes glazed with a hunger she felt raging inside herself.
“Damn, Alice.”
She sucked in her bottom lip and walked over to the window to look outside at the snow that had screwed everything up. She drew in a shaky breath, realizing she didn’t possess the control she’d thought she had.
“Okay, fine,” she said. “You win.”
He came over and put his hands on her shoulders. “I think we both won that one.”
Did they? She didn’t feel like a winner. She felt vulnerable and needy, and she didn’t know what she wanted.
Not exactly true. She definitely wanted Clay. That kiss had made it very clear. But it went against everything she stood for, everything she believed in. This was her work, and she’d allowed herself to make a mockery of it.
This exercise was not going at all like she had planned. But she couldn’t go back on her word.
“I’ll have dinner with you.”
He came up closer behind her and whispered in her ear. “You don’t have to make it sound like an execution, Alice.”
She turned to face him. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I’m . . . having a rough day.”
“Why?”
How could she explain how she’d abandoned her principles, how she’d fallen in utter lust with someone she intended to make a match for? None of this made sense to her. She thought it would be so easy to remain distant, to ignore the chemistry between them. Matchmaking was logical, not chemical. But one kiss had blown that theory completely apart.
“I just . . . I don’t know.”
“How about this? We finish up with the questionnaire and see how the matchmaking goes for me, okay?”
“Really?”
“Sure. I’m always open to suggestions.”
She smiled, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. Maybe she could still make a good match for Clay. “Great.”
“And once we can get out of here, you come over to my place and let me make you dinner. No expectations other than dinner, okay?”
“Of course. That was our agreement. But no more kissing.”
His lips curved, and he slanted a devilish smile her way. “Not unless you ask me to.”
That was going to be easy. Because she had no intention of ever asking Clay Henry to kiss her again.
Chapter Seven
By the next morning, it had finally stopped snowing.
By Clay’s estimate, there was about four feet of snow on the ground. Pretty epic for an Oklahoma snowstorm.
But the sun was out, and the temperatures were already in the midthirties. Roads were being cleared, and soon enough this would all be a distant memory.
With this much snow, he still couldn’t take Mickey out. Not that it mattered much, since he knew his horse would be well taken care of in the Bellini’s barn.
Still, he had work to do back at the ranch. Dad had told him everything was running smoothly. The cows had been fed and the horses exercised, but it didn’t sit well with him that everyone else was out there doing work that he should be doing as well.
Besides, being stuck indoors made him antsy. He was an outdoors kind of guy.
Fortunately, one of the foremen was going to test the roads and head into town for supplies, so he planned to swing by and pick Clay up on the way back.
“You sure you don’t mind housing Mickey until the snow melts enough for me to ride him back? I can bring the trailer back with me.”
Johnny Bellini sipped his espresso and shook his head. “Your pony is fine where he is. No reason for you to make a special trip to pick him up. He keeps the other horses company.”
Clay grinned. He knew Johnny had a special affinity for Mickey, which was why he always stopped at the Bellini ranch whenever he took the horse out for exercise.
“Okay. Thanks for letting him stay here.”
“Mickey and me? We speak the same language.”
“My horse speaks Italian?”
Johnny laughed. “Hey, you don’t know that horse like I do. He tells me about my horse, Josephina, and how much she means to him. He misses her whenever he has to leave.”
“Uh-huh.” Clay took a drink of his coffee. “Are you trying to play matchmaker with our horses?”
Johnny shrugged. “I know these things. Those two have a romance going on.”
Whatever made Johnny happy was good enough for Clay.
They both headed into the dining room. Everyone else was already in there, including Alice, who, he noticed, was doing her best to give him a professional nod and smile.
Fine with him. He sat next to Johnny this morning, at the other end of the table from Alice.
“Snow stopped, finally,” Maureen said. “Johnny tells me you’re leaving us, Clay.”
Clay noticed Alice pulled her attention from her conversation with Erin.
“Yeah, I’ve got to get back to work. Joe’s going to swing by and pick me up after he runs some errands in town.”
“You think he’ll be able to get the truck through all this snow?”
“There’s a plow on the front of the truck, so he should be fine.”
“I’m sure you’re missing home and work,” Brenna said. “I know it would drive me crazy to be away from work too long.”
“I’m going a little stir crazy, that’s for sure.”
“Well, we enjoyed having you,” Maureen said. “You know you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”
He reached for the plate of pancakes. “Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality.”
He noticed Alice didn’t say anything to him at all. After breakfast, he made sure to avoid going into the drawing room where he saw her working. Instead, he bugged Erin by sitting in her office, talking to her about horses and the ranch and her job and anything to keep himself from going to Alice.
“And then we’re having some kids from FFA stop by the ranch next week, weather permitting,” he said.
Erin had her face buried in her laptop, nodding and giving him a lot of uh-huhs in response to his rambling. Finally, she lifted her head.
“Why are you in here bothering me by spouting off a bunch of nonsense?”
“So now my life is nonsense?”
She gave him a Don’t Bullshit Me look. Out of all the Bellini girls, he and Erin had always been the closest. “You know what I mean. I thought you and Alice were developing a thing. Shouldn’t you be in the drawing room with her?”
He frowned. “A thing? We don’t have a thing.”
“Please. Anyone within ten feet of the two of you could feel the chemistry. It’s almost visible, like some kind of scientific waves.”
“Waves? What the hell
are you talking about?”
“Come on, Clay. Do I need to give you the birds-and-the-bees talk?”
“No. I understand chemistry. But Alice is being . . . resistant.”
She slanted a look at him. “You mean she doesn’t like you.”
He leaned back in the chair, stretching out his legs. “Oh, she likes me just fine.”
“And you know this . . . how?”
“She kissed me. Or . . . we kissed each other.”
Erin tapped a pen on the table. “That explains the waves of chemistry. So, again, my question is, what are you doing in here?”
“Again. . . she’s resisting.”
“Maybe she didn’t like your kiss.”
He laughed, deep and loud. “Oh, she liked it just fine.”
Erin shook her head. “Ever the humble one, aren’t you, Clay?”
“You know it.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. There was some wager, and then we kissed, and now I’m cooking her dinner, and she thinks she lost because she’s got it in her head that she wants to play matchmaker for me.”
“Ohhh. Alice thinks she can find you the ideal woman. And you like her. And she likes you, but . . .”
“Yeah.”
“Now I understand.” She quirked a smile. “Yes, this is a very interesting development.”
He didn’t like the cat-that-ate-the-cream smile on his friend’s face. “What?”
Now she gave him her innocent look. “Nothing. Nothing at all. So, you’re going to cook her dinner?”
“Yeah. At some point. I guess soon. It’s not like she’s going to be here forever.”
“No, she won’t, but while she’s here you two could get to know each other better. See what happens. You’d better work fast if you want to win her over, to change her mind about you.”
“What does that mean? I’m not trying to win anything. She’s only here for a few days.”
“So? You like her, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then do something about it.”
He frowned. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing to do. I’m just fixing her dinner.”
Erin shook her head. “You’re a smart guy, Clay. You’ll figure it out.”