Keely nodded. “I like it.”
“It’s up to you if you want to tell us one of yours,” Jenny added. “You can think about whether you want to or not while you’re listening. Okay, here’s mine.”
Trying not to let her mouth drop open, Keely heard Jenny—a blonde with innocent-looking blue eyes—describe her fantasy of being carried off by a sheikh and sold into sexual bondage. While Josette buffed and massaged Jenny’s feet with some sort of tangy-scented herbal cream, Jenny provided details of what the bondage would involve. When she was finished, everyone, including Keely, applauded.
“Me, next!” Tina said, raising the hand that had recently been tipped with Mango Madness. “Ooh, I love this one I came up with. Here goes.” An olive-skinned Italian beauty, Tina sketched a scene in which she commanded male slaves to do her bidding. And she had an impressive list of duties for them to perform.
Keely joined in the applause for this one too and wondered if she’d forever associate the bracing smell of nail polish with women’s sexual daydreams. She wished she could take notes. An article on female fantasies might be an excellent project for Attitude! magazine.
Then Sharon, a well-rounded brunette, detailed a fantasy that involved making love to a handsome stranger in the back of a moving limousine. Sharon was followed in the rotation by Barb, a tall woman with black hair. Barb wanted to be rescued from a burning house while wearing a negligee and then afterward to have sex with each of the gorgeous firemen as an expression of her gratitude.
“Do you want to tell us one?” Jenny asked, turning to Keely after Barb had finished and collected her applause. “You don’t have to, but it’s fun.”
“I can see that.” Keely was rethinking her assumption that marriage dried up your sexual imagination. As the only single woman there, she felt obligated to hold up her end of the game. “How’s this? I am a beautiful queen, and my page is in love with me but he dares not show it because of his lowly station. I figure out that he’s in love with me, so I begin subtly coming on to him.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Jenny said. “And slowly he begins to crack.”
“Right,” Keely said. “And, being a normal man, eventually he can’t help himself and he has to have me, but he knows he could be killed for it. So he risks his life to make love to me. At night. In the throne room. And it’s raining outside.” She found herself getting into the fantasy.
“And of course you tolerate it,” Sharon said, her dimples flashing.
“Well, yeah,” Keely replied. “I mean, the guy is hung like a horse.”
Jenny laughed. “Naturally. And you don’t have him killed.”
“No, I only threaten it if he doesn’t do his level best to please me. Night after night after night.”
“Excellent!” Tina said. “He either produces multiple orgasms, or off with his head!”
By this time both manicurists were begging to add their fantasies to the collection, and then everyone decided they needed a second round.
Keely managed to come up with a second fantasy, but she loved the first one far more. And it wouldn’t take a degree in psychology to figure out why, either. Oh, yes. Noah’s ultimate surrender to his desire would be sweet.
“So, Keely, what was it like growing up with Noah?” Jenny asked as the women sat in the salon letting their fingernails and toenails dry.
Keely thought about that as she admired her fingers and toes tipped with Lotus Blossom Pink. “Well, his younger brother, Jonas, and I were the ones who always got into trouble, and Noah had to bail us out so we wouldn’t get busted. Like the time Jonas and I took the tractor for a joyride before either of us knew how to drive it. We ended up in a ditch, of course, and broke some part or other. Noah used his dad’s truck to pull the tractor out and then told his dad that he’d put the tractor in the ditch, not me and Jonas.”
“I can picture Noah doing that.” Tina wiggled her toes. “He seems like the protective type. So were you two ever involved?”
“Uh, not really.”
“She’s blushing!” Jenny said. “Dish, girl!”
Keely couldn’t believe that she’d given herself away like that. “It was only kid stuff. You know, down by the barn. Nothing ever came of it.”
Tina glanced at Keely. “I think something could come of it now. If you’re interested, that is. He looks at you like a chocoholic would look at a box of Godiva.”
Jenny laughed. “I’ll bet all the guys do when they think we don’t notice. That’s a killer bod you have there, chick.”
Keely felt her blush deepen. “Oh, this old thing. I’ve had it for ages.”
“You wear it well,” Tina said with a nod. “And I still say Noah’s interested. I mean, really interested.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t want to be,” Keely said before she could stop herself.
Sharon’s brown eyes opened wide. “Why ever not?”
Keely sighed. She hadn’t meant to say even that much, but these women had a way of making her forget to guard her words. “He might be sexually interested, but he doesn’t want to act on that because nothing could ever come of it and he can’t just walk away from me when it’s over. My dad and sister still work for him, and his brother is marrying my sister. So it’s complicated.”
“Back up a minute,” Jenny said. “Why couldn’t anything ever come of it?”
“Because.” She paused and glanced around at these funny, intelligent women, all of them probably living out in the sticks somewhere with their cowboy husbands. “Don’t take this wrong. I think you guys are fantastic. But I’m not the type to be a ranch wife.”
Jenny burst out laughing. “Oh, yeah. The ranch wife. That wholesome woman who never wears makeup and brings in fresh eggs from the chicken coop every morning.”
Tina joined in the laughter. “Oh, yeah, her. The one who bakes all her own bread and whips up gingham curtains for every blessed window in the house. Oh, and she makes tablecloths and napkins, too, to match the curtains.”
“Don’t forget putting up the preserves and making the quilts,” Sharon added with a grin. “And helping with the branding in the spring and the roundup in the fall.”
“And in between times she drives all over the countryside doctoring the sick and cheering the infirm,” Barb said.
Jenny glanced at Keely, her blue eyes twinkling. “That’s the one you’re thinking of, right? Martha Stewart in boots and spurs?”
“I guess. I mean, maybe your picture is a little extreme, but that’s about the size of it.”
“Well, the thing is, that ranch woman—” Jenny winked at her sister and two friends. “Hit it, girls.”
“She’s so last century!” the women shouted in unison.
“Long live the new ranch wife!” Jenny shouted, punching a fist in the air. “She gets pedicures!”
“She serves fast food!” Barb raised her own fist.
“She shops at Nordstrom’s!” Tina waved a fist in the air.
“She hires a cleaning service!” Sharon put both fists in the air and leaped up to dance around the salon, Rocky-style.
Keely laughed in delight. “Good for you. I’m impressed. Obviously you all have it together. But you’ve never lived in Saguaro Junction.”
“I don’t think the place matters,” Jenny said. “Women everywhere are changing. It’s the millennium, and drudges are out of fashion. Hey, if a woman likes doing some of that, great. But you can live on a ranch and still have lots of the goodies of life. I don’t plan on going anywhere near a chicken coop. Times have changed.”
Keely still had trouble picturing such liberation on the Twin Boulders Ranch. “Somebody ought to tell that to Noah Garfield.”
“Yep,” Jenny agreed. “And I think you’re just the gal to do it.”
The salon party broke up after that. Keely excused herself so that she could use the second half of the afternoon to finish up the interviews for her magazine article. Because she didn’t have time to conduct them in person, she had to risk us
ing her cell phone. To make sure she wouldn’t be caught doing that, she walked to the hotel next door and found a relatively quiet nook in the coffee shop.
On the way out of the hotel she passed a boutique that displayed a stunning dress in the window. Realizing that she needed something a bit more dressy for the wedding, she went inside. While trying it on, she gazed at herself in the mirror. Was this the image of the new, liberated ranch wife? Could a ranch wife be someone who’d posed nude for a men’s magazine?
Of course not. And she had no business thinking like that, anyway. No matter how the image had changed, it still involved the tedium of marriage, that boring institution that sucked the life right out of a sexual relationship, right? But the women she’d met today didn’t seem to be sucked dry. They were juicy ladies. And getting into bed with Noah every night didn’t sound like such a bad deal, either.
Yeah, like he’d ask her to consider that option. The man didn’t want to let himself climb into bed with her tonight, let alone for the rest of his life.
But he would go to bed with her tonight. She turned in front of the mirror. Definitely.
NOAH BOUGHT HIMSELF a pair of shorts so he could spend the afternoon playing volleyball on the resort’s sand court with the guys. Throwing himself into the physical activity felt great. Maybe if he played hard enough, maybe if he spent the whole afternoon getting hot, sweaty and tired, he’d be too exhausted to be tempted by Keely in the suite tonight after the wedding.
He didn’t go back to the suite until he had to change into his tux. Bracing himself for Keely to be parading around in something sexy or in nothing at all, he discovered she wasn’t even there.
While he was taking his shower and getting dressed, he expected her to show up at any moment. Eventually his curiosity turned to irritation. She’d been invited to this wedding, and she’d damn sure better not be late. Then his irritation changed to concern. What if she’d gone back to the topless bar and taken that job, after all?
When he’d seen her last she was headed off toward the hotel’s salon, but maybe she’d ducked out of that. He almost called Greg and Tina’s room to find out if Tina knew where Keely might be. But he didn’t really want to do that.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, he struggled with his bow tie. In the few times he’d ever worn a tux, he’d never really learned how to tie the damn thing. With a growl of frustration, he pulled it loose and started over.
A second before Keely spoke, he smelled her raspberry lotion. Instantly his groin tightened.
“Need some help, cowboy?”
He looked in the mirror and she was reflected there, leaning casually in the wide arch separating the bedroom and the bathroom.
Her purse was slung over her shoulder and a shopping bag dangled from her hand. She looked as if she’d been outside— her hair was tousled and her cheeks were pink from the heat. She was also breathing fast, despite her relaxed pose against the doorway. The crocheted halter top she wore quivered with each breath she took, and he wondered if she’d hurried up here because she was running late or because she was eager to see him again.
“That bow tie seems to be getting the better of you,” she said. “Don’t you have to be down there in a few minutes?”
“Yep.” He met her gaze in the mirror and weighed the risk of having her help him tie it. “Are you going to have time to get ready?”
“Sure. I have at least a half hour more than you do. I’ll get dressed after you leave. But you can’t go with your tie looking like that.” She put down her purse and her shopping bag and came toward him. “Turn around and let me see what I can do.”
He assumed she’d learned the skill from hanging out with guys who regularly wore these monkey suits. Knowing Keely, she might be planning to turn this into a very seductive operation. Filled with misgivings, he faced her. “How was the manicure session?”
“Lotus Blossom Pink.” She held up both hands to show him her nails.
They were covered in a pearly color that reminded him of the inside of a seashell. Or the inside curve of her ear. Or the inside of…places he’d do well not to think about. Damn, but she smelled good.
She stepped closer and took the ends of the bow tie in her pink-tipped fingers. “Now hold still,” she murmured.
Oh, he’d hold still. He didn’t dare move a muscle. He just hoped that involuntary reactions wouldn’t take over. Some things he couldn’t control.
Staring at a point over her head, he tried to block out all sensation, but he wasn’t having much luck. He was very much aware of the light, whispery sound of her breathing, the brush of her fingers and the scent of raspberries. If she leaned forward a fraction, her breasts would touch the front of his white pleated shirt. He clenched his hands at his sides.
“Shoot,” she muttered.
He glanced down and knew immediately that was a mistake. Keely could be the most provocative, tempting woman in the world when she tried. But right now, to his complete amazement, she wasn’t trying. And he discovered she could be just as irresistible when she didn’t try.
All her concentration was on his tie, and she’d tucked her tongue into the corner of her mouth while she worked. Apparently she didn’t know much more about this process than he did, but she’d been willing to jump in and help. He found that endearing.
Frowning fiercely, she pulled the tie this way and that.
“Want me to try again?” he asked.
“No, I’m going to get it. I’m just out of practice.”
That meant she hadn’t been doing this favor for any man recently. Noah was glad to hear it.
“There!” She stepped back with a huge smile of triumph. “I did it!”
A lump of emotion stuck in his throat. He remembered seeing that expression on her face when she was nine years old. As a self-important twelve-year-old he’d been teaching her how to rope her horse as the gelding circled them in the corral. When she’d finally settled her loop over her horse’s head, she’d given him that exact grin.
Her grin had turned to surprise when the rope had tightened and jerked her off her feet. He’d forgotten to tell her what to do after she’d roped the horse. Her skinned hands and knees were all his fault that day, and he’d blamed himself for weeks.
He’d been worried about resisting Keely when she turned on her sexual charm, but he might have an even tougher time resisting her when she reminded him of the eager, happy little kid she used to be.
“You look very nice, Noah,” she said softly. There was no taunt in her green eyes this time. Her compliment was simply and sincerely given as if she had no ulterior motive.
He was lost. “Keely.” He gripped her arms, his fingers registering the warmth and smoothness of her skin.
Awareness blazed in her eyes. “You have to go,” she said, her voice husky.
“I have to kiss you first.”
“Noah—”
“I have to.” He settled his mouth over hers with a groan of relief. Yes. How he’d needed this kiss, ached for it. Yet it was a different kind of ache from the one he’d had the night before. There was a sexual edge to this longing, but it was more about cherishing her than making frenzied love to her. It was the kind of ache that scared the hell out of him.
Ah, the joys of Keely’s mouth—lips plump against his, responding, moistening, parting to let him stroke his tongue inside. His grip on her arms tightened, his fingers massaged that silky skin. And before he knew it, he’d slid both hands to her neck and untied her halter top.
And then…then he went a little crazy, filling both hands with her magnificent breasts, kissing his way over her jaw and down her throat. Braced against the edge of the counter, he leaned down and claimed his prize.
He grew dizzy from the pure pleasure of her breast in his mouth.
And she tunneled her fingers through his hair and held him close. “Noah…” she said, gasping out his name. “You have to…leave.”
Oh, no. He couldn’t leave now. Not when he’d fou
nd heaven.
“You…should go.”
With a murmur of protest he lifted his mouth and caressed one wet, erect nipple with his thumb while he moved to dampen the other with his tongue. Men had died for less reward than this. He could barely believe he was really cupping the weight of her beautiful breasts. Squeezing them with trembling fingers, he gave thanks for his good fortune as he tasted and tasted again, his mind numbed by the wonder of what was happening. The sensations bombarding him made his head buzz and his ears ring.
And ring, and ring. Wow, that was some sensation, like a…telephone.
Keely backed away from his embrace. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
Dazed, he stared at her as she went over to get her purse and then proceeded to dig through it. A man could go crazy watching uncovered breasts like hers quiver. Finally she pulled a cell phone from the bottom of her purse.
A cell phone?
She pushed a button and shoved the phone back in her purse. Then she glanced up at him. “You’d better go,” she murmured.
“What—” He paused to clear his throat. “What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“You have a cell phone?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” He couldn’t fit the cell phone in with her supposed rootless living style. Topless dancers moving from city to city didn’t have cell phones. Or did they?
“It’s for work,” she said.
Everything clicked into place for him. “Keely, are you a call girl?”
“No, I’m not.”
He should have guessed she’d deny it, both now and the first time he’d asked her. What had he expected her to do, confess such a thing? “You are, aren’t you? And you were afraid to tell me.”
“No, really. I—”
“It’s okay.” He couldn’t blame her, not when every time he looked at her he wanted to take her to bed. After years of getting that reaction from men, she might have become convinced that was what she was born to do. “It’s not your fault that men want you,” he said. “Hell, look at me. I can’t keep my hands off you, and I promised myself I would.”
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