Solitaire

by Lindsay McKenna

  With a snort, Slade got up, moving to the window to watch Cat as she wandered aimlessly on her way. Questions raced through his mind. When should he broach the fact that he wanted Cat to work for him? Right now, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to continue being a mining engineer. Cave-ins had a way of forcing one to look at fear. How each individual handled it was another question. The past weeks had effectively erased Slade’s original reason for wanting Cat to recover at Mourning Dove. No, more and more, Slade wanted her. Each morning he awoke he was happy as never before because of Cat’s quiet presence.

  Glancing down at his watch, he saw it was two-thirty. To hell with work; he wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon with Cat. It was too late for the picnic they had talked about earlier. But there was still time to take her to a fishing pond nearby. Whistling softly, pleased with the idea, Slade shut off the light and strolled out of his office.

  “There you are,” he greeted her cheerfully.

  Cat lifted her head. She sat in a lounge chair beneath a trellis shelter of bougainvillea vines. Her pulse began to pound as she met Slade’s blue gaze. She closed the magazine on her lap as he approached.

  “Uh-oh, you look like you’re on the prowl.” She eyed him with wary appreciation.

  Slade sat down at the end of the chair, staring admiringly at her long legs, now tanned gold from days in the sun. He longed to run his hands all the way up them and feel her response. Tucking his torrid thoughts away, he met her teasing look.

  “I am,” he warned her. “I was hunting for you.” He gestured toward the Travis ranch in the distance. “Figured the day was too nice to waste working. How’d you like to catch our dinner tonight?”

  Cat hesitated, wanting to contain her eagerness. “Fishing?”

  “Sure. Matt and Kai have a nice little river that’s filled with bass. I’ve got the fishing tackle. All I need is my favorite lady to come along. Game?”

  Cat gave up trying to disguise her delight. “You bet. But I’m not a good fisherman. My brother Rafe’s an ace at it. If I hook anything, it’s by sheer dumb luck.”

  Slade grinned and stood, offering Cat his hand. She took it without hesitation. The sun had tanned Cat’s once-pale face, and her green eyes sparkled with good health once again. He hoped part of her happiness was due to his presence. “I suspect you’re a lot better than you let on,” replied Slade, gently pulling her up. “Come on, you can help me get the tackle and we’ll be on our way. Maybe if Kai’s home, she can join us.”

  “Wonderful!”

  As they drove to the Travis ranch, Cat confided, “I’m glad you can pull away from work every once in a while.”

  The wind was hot and dry against his face. “I’m not a workaholic like some people you might have known.”

  Cat recognized the reference to Greg, but made no comment.

  “Gold fever has a way of demanding your body and soul,” Slade continued. He caught her thoughtful expression. “So, you like your man to be spontaneous and not hooked into the work harness all the time. What else do you like?”

  Caught up in his expansive mood, Cat relaxed as they drove slowly down the dirt road. “My dream man would cherish our relationship above anything else.”

  “Even if you were pauper poor?”

  “Poor in one way, but rich in another,” she agreed with a laugh. “But this is a fantasy, remember? There’s no such thing as a dream man–or woman, for that matter. But I’d like him to take me on picnics out in the wilderness where we could share a bottle of cold white wine or join me in the kitchen to bake chocolate-chip cookies.”

  “Hey, let’s do that when we get back. I love chocolate-chip cookies.”

  Cat went warm inside. She could barely tear her gaze from Slade’s wonderfully shaped mouth. She longed to have him kiss her again, but he’d been treading so carefully. His touch was nearly impersonal when he helped her with the rib wrap. Only lately had he even held her hand and, once, embraced her briefly. She wanted more, Cat realized. Much more. “Are you serious?” she challenged.

  Giving her a hurt look, Slade held up his hand, as if swearing to his statement. “No kidding, I’m a sucker for cookies. And ice cream. And one particular exotic woman…”

  Heat flamed into her cheeks and Cat allowed it to sweep straight through her. “Thank you,” she managed, unable to hold his penetrating look. Both of them were tautly aware of the tension that crackled between them. Never had a man made Cat feel more like a woman.

  Slade, unable to resist, picked up her hand and placed a gentle kiss on her palm. “You’re welcome…”

  *

  Unstrung by Slade’s sudden shift in mood, Cat fished quietly beside him at the river. The tall, stately pecan trees hugged their side of the bank, providing welcome shade. Kai Travis had greeted them when they’d arrived, provided icy lemonade, but had declined joining them. If Cat had looked closer, she would have seen a merry look in Kai’s wide eyes that spoke volumes. Why did she feel Kai was deliberately leaving them alone?

  “Hey! There goes your bobber!”

  Cat jerked upright. She had been lounging half asleep against a pecan tree, rod in hand, when the red-and-white bobber at the end of her line was pulled down beneath the jade depths of the river. Slade’s excitement sizzled through her and Cat scrambled to her feet. He was at her side as she gave a firm jerk upward on the pole. Immediately, the rod tip bent nearly double as the fish on the other end was hooked.

  “I got him, Slade!” She struggled to flip off the safety on the reel. It had been years since she had gone fishing and she was rusty and clumsy. Slade stood nearby, excitement in his voice.

  “Looks big. Hold on, I’ll get the net. Keep tension on that line or he’ll flip out of the water and shake the hook loose.”

  Cat looked out of the corner of her eye as Slade swept the net into his hand and walked to the edge of the bank. “What a fighter,” she gasped, slowly reeling the fish closer.

  “You’re doing fine, sweetheart. Hey…he’s a grandpappy. Why, that bass must weigh close to five pounds. Okay, bring him in nice and slow…”

  With a triumphant laugh, Cat set the rod aside after Slade had captured the bass. He expertly slid the hook out of the paper-thin mouth of the fish. Proudly he held the fish up for her to examine.

  “For someone who hasn’t fished much, you’ve got some kind of luck,” he congratulated her. Slade put the bass on the stringer, then placed it back into the water to keep it alive until they were ready to go home. He knelt down and washed his hands. Cat stood beside him, her cheeks flushed with victory. Her smile went straight to Slade’s heart.

  His sapphire eyes darkened with intent as he stood up. Sweeping Cat into his arms, he held her gently against his damp, hard body. “You,” he whispered thickly, “are something else.” Then he claimed her parted lips.

  Instinctively, Cat slid her arms across his shoulders. Slade’s mouth was strong, cherishing. He ran his tongue in an outlining motion, placing small kisses at each corner of her lips. A soft moan welled up within her and Cat trusted her full weight to Slade, lost in the growing fire of their mutual explorations.

  “Sweet,” he said in a rush, framing her face, lost in the tide of her returning kiss. The smoldering heat exploded violently within Slade as her mouth met and equaled the pressure of his own. Gripping her shoulders, Slade drowned in Cat, all thoughts taking flight. Feelings were what counted with him. He followed the inner yearnings of his heart, drinking deeply of Cat, losing himself in her womanliness.

  Disappointed when Slade’s mouth left hers, Cat looked up and was enveloped in the cobalt intensity of his gaze as he stared down at her. The world swayed and she gripped his arms.

  “Cat? Are you all right?”

  All right? She was delirious. Trying to smile, she nodded. “D-do you always catch a woman off guard like this, Slade?”

  He groaned softly, cupping her chin, holding her dreamy expression. “There’s just one woman I want to catch off guard, and that’s
you, sweetheart. No one else…just you…”

  Waves of tidal strength rocked through her and Cat closed her eyes, pressing her cheek against his palm. “No one has ever made me dizzy, Slade Donovan. Ever.”

  Dizzy himself, Slade reveled in her openness and honesty with him. Here was the woman he had always known existed, and she was sharing herself with him. Light-headed and a little shaky, Slade gently drew Cat into his arms. The day was hot, their shirts damp from perspiration, but he didn’t care. “It’s your fault, you know.”

  “What is? The kiss?”

  Slade rubbed his jaw against the softness of her sable-colored hair. “Definitely.”

  Cat pulled away, laughing at his teasing. “How could it be?”

  Mirth danced in his features. “You promised me chocolate-chip cookies, remember? I go crazy when a woman offers to bake me cookies.”

  With a playful look, Cat stepped out of his arms. “You’re so full of it, Slade Donovan.”

  He recaptured Cat’s hand, pulling her to a halt before she could escape completely. “Now wait a minute, I was kidding about the cookies, not the kiss.”

  “Really?”

  Slade gave her a measuring look, wondering if Cat was serious or if she was just giving him a good dose of his own medicine. “I can do without the cookies, but I can’t do without you.”

  “That’s nice to know, Donovan; I rate higher than a chocolate-chip cookie.”

  He wanted to throttle her. “You rate a hell of a lot higher than that and you know it.”

  Merrily, Cat slipped from his grasp and retrieved her rod. “Really? Well, we’ll see.” She gave him a look filled with challenge. “I’m going to put you to the test, Slade.”

  “Oh?”

  Satisfaction wreathed Cat’s smile as she baited the hook and then tossed the bobber back into the river. “Tonight, after dinner, I’m going to bake you three dozen chocolate-chip cookies. I’ll use my mom’s recipe, and they’re better than any other kind you’ve ever eaten.”

  He brightened. “Great.”

  “There’s only one catch to all this, Donovan.”

  He frowned. “What?”

  Cat sat back down, her back against the pecan tree, grinning. “You have a choice: a kiss from me or those three dozen cookies tonight. Which will it be, I wonder?”

  Slade gave in to her teasing. There was no question in his mind that he’d rather have the kiss. Still, he couldn’t resist playing Cat’s game. “Cat, how can you do this to me? Do you realize how rare it is that I get homemade chocolate-chip cookies?”

  Choking back her laughter, Cat tried very hard to keep a straight face and appear to concentrate on fishing. “Didn’t you just say I rated higher than a cookie?”

  “This isn’t fair! Of course you’re more important than a cookie.” Slade stood over her, hoping to intimidate her into thinking twice about the choice she offered him.

  Cat looked up, giving him an innocent look. “If that’s true, then you’ll settle for a good-night kiss instead of those cookies I’m going to bake.”

  “What will happen to those cookies, then?”

  “I’m sure Pilar’s children would love them, aren’t you?”

  Groaning, Slade stalked over to his rod. “You don’t fight fair, you know that?”

  Barely able to keep the smile from pulling up the corners of her mouth, Cat nodded. “Neither do you. You’re just getting a taste of your own medicine, Donovan. How does it feel?”

  Slade sat down, balancing the rod on his knees, and gave her a devilish look. “You’re going to pay for this, Ms. Kincaid.”

  “Uh-oh, threats! Threats!”

  Joy swept through Slade as he watched Cat laugh like a delighted child. She was beautiful in so many ways. And grudgingly, he admitted he’d finally met his match. The little vixen. Well, he’d win the last round in this sparring between them. And what sweet, luscious revenge it would be.

  *

  That evening, after Pilar had left for the night, Cat went to the kitchen to bake. Slade hung around, watching closely as she made her mother’s recipe for chocolate-chip cookies. Every now and again, Slade would lean over her shoulders and swipe a bite of the dough. And then he would steal a light kiss from Cat. Tinkering with the cappuccino maker, Slade worked nearby on the tile drain board. Cat looked soft and feminine in a pale pink sundress. The square neck on the dress showed off her recent tan to a decided advantage.

  “Did I tell you how pretty you look in that dress?”

  Cat began to drop the cookie dough onto the sheet. The corners of her mouth lifted slightly and she pinned Slade’s longing gaze. “Is this your way of getting a cookie? Flattery?”

  Slade placed the lid on the cappuccino machine, screwing it down tightly. He met her smile. “Cookies can’t hold a flame to you.”

  Laughing lightly, she murmured, “Why, thank you. Can I help it if I think you have ulterior motives designed to weaken my resolve?”

  “Sweetheart, if I want to weaken your resolve, I’ll be a hell of a lot more straightforward about it.”

  “Uh-oh, Texans are rather brash, aren’t they?” Cat walked around Slade and moved to the oven. He leaned petulantly against the drain board, watching her through half-closed eyes. She found it hard to fight the attraction he always generated in her. Eyeing the oven’s temperature control, Cat straightened up. She brushed away strands of damp hair from her brow.

  “Texans are honest,” Slade defended, eagerly absorbing her every movement.

  Placing the sheet of cookies in the oven, Cat closed the door. “Even if it kills them,” she agreed. “There. In about ten minutes, the first dozen will be ready. How’s our cappuccino coming?”

  Slade roused himself from staring at her. Her flushed cheeks and the serenity surrounding her made her just that much more enticing. Everything was happening so quickly. He didn’t want to rush Cat or make her feel as if he was stalking her.

  “Here,” Slade said, handing her a large mug of the steaming brew, frothy with hot milk. Then he joined her on the living-room couch. The last of the cookies had been baked and were set out to cool. The merriment in Cat’s eyes as she took the cup made him smile. With a contented sigh, Slade sat back, his shoulders almost touching hers.

  “How are you doing?” Cat asked, sipping contentedly at her cappuccino.

  Slade rolled his head to the left, drinking in her smiling features. “Okay.”

  “You’re holding up amazingly well for a Cookie Monster.”

  “Yeah, I know it.”

  “I’ve got them counted, Slade. So don’t come sneaking out here in the middle of the night to steal one. Or two. Probably half a dozen.”

  Slade joined her laughter and picked up her hand. “I’ve got something even better than that, Cat.”

  “What?” She loved the feel of his big, firm hand.

  “I was privileged to see you working in the kitchen.”

  “Being a mining engineer doesn’t mean I can’t do anything else.”

  “Now, don’t go getting contrary. That was a compliment. You looked kind of pretty and at home in there. I liked the feeling.” His voice lowered. “For the first time since I bought this place, it feels like a home.” And then he met Cat’s sober gaze. “Do you know what I mean?”

  Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Yes, I know…”

  Reluctantly, Slade released her hand. “What we…share…is so good, Cat.”

  Cat set her mug on the coffee table. Slade gave her a puzzled look as she rose and walked to the kitchen.

  “Now what did I say?” he demanded, sitting up. “Cat?”

  Cat returned with a saucer stacked with cookies. She handed them to Slade. “Nothing’s wrong,” she told him, sitting back down beside him. “Everything’s right…”

  Delighted with her change of heart, Slade picked up a cookie. He was about to take a bite out of it, then hesitated. “Does this mean I still get my kiss?”

  “I hereby release you from having to mak
e a choice,” Cat said, her eyes sparkling.

  “Here, this one’s for the cook. She’s one hell of a fine lady.”

  Cat took the proffered cookie, giving Slade a tender smile. Holding up her cookie in a toast, she murmured, “And here’s to one hell of a fine man.”

  Happily, Slade touched her cookie with his. He consumed four of them without another word.

  Laughing, Cat snuggled into the couch, her legs tucked beneath her. The beatific look of pleasure on Slade’s face made her feel good. She reached out, resting her hand against his shoulder. “You’re such an easy person to please, Slade Donovan. Does it always take so little to make you happy?”

  He glanced over at Cat, matching her smile. “That’s me in a nutshell, sweetheart. Small, simple things in life are the best. Like that kiss we shared this afternoon…”

  “Or the cookies…”

  “Yeah, them too. But the kiss was sweeter. Better.” And then he brightened. “This is pretty good–not only do I get these great-tasting cookies, but I also get to give you a good-night kiss.”

  “Don’t gloat, Slade.”

  “Was I gloating?”

  “You know you are. You’re as bad as Rafe when it comes to getting everything your way.”

  *

  Rafe called her less than a week later. Joyfully, Cat picked up the phone when Pilar told her who it was. The early-afternoon sunlight spilled through the windows as Cat took the phone into the living room, making herself comfortable on the apricot-colored couch.

  “How are you?” Cat asked, barely able to contain her happiness.

  “Things could be going a hell of a lot better, Cat.”

  Her brows dipped. “Oh, no. What’s wrong, Rafe?”

  “You remember I told you about Jessica?”

  “The lady investigator from the Bureau of Land Mines?”

  “Same one,” he said gruffly.

  Gripping the phone, Cat felt her brother’s unspoken anguish. “Oh, Rafe, what happened? I know how much you love her. Didn’t you fly up to Wyoming to see her?”