by Tina Beckett
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” In fact, Jess was sure it was a very bad idea. As was the brilliant one to go ice skating after this was all over.
Assuming she survived the first ordeal.
Her white skates from her teenage years were tucked into the boot of Dean’s expensive car, along with his own black ones. Somehow she couldn’t see him twirling around at an ice rink. He just looked too broad. Too strong.
Okay, so she would live. She had to, because that was definitely one picture she wanted to see. Of Dean weaving to and fro, making patterns in the ice.
“You’re going to do fine.”
Right. That was easy for him to say. “Just look at that one. He seems ready to take down anyone who ventures too close.”
Dean glanced over at where she was pointing and laughed. “That’s Thor.”
“Thor?” Her head jerked around again to look at the pure white horse. She noticed no one else was around him. In fact, another fence stood between this horse and the rest of the herd in the distance. “Are you serious? That’s his name?”
Dean nodded. “Yep. Because he swings a pretty serious hammer.”
She closed her eyes to shut out the twin plumes of steam that were still emerging with the beast’s every breath. “Oh, God. I don’t even want to know what that means. Has he kicked anyone recently?”
“Kicked?” His head cocked to the side. Then he smiled again. “No. And you probably don’t want to know why he’s called that. Let’s just say his mares haven’t lodged any complaints.”
Heat flashed up her face, along with relief. “Oh. So he’s not mean.”
“Not at all. For a stallion, he’s pretty much a pussycat.”
Somehow, she wasn’t seeing it. She scrunched further down into her winter parka, hoping the dark fabric proved true to its promise that it could go from earthy to elegant without a hitch. Because right now, this was about as earthy as she could imagine getting.
“Let’s go say hello,” he continued.
“Oh. I’m fine. I’m sure he won’t think me rude if I just sit this one out.”
He gave her another grin. “It’s a perfect photo op. We can shoot one of you standing next to him.”
“Next to...?” Her eyes widened. “Oh, no, I don’t think so.”
“You’ll have to shed your coat, of course. The pasture is still green enough to pretend it’s autumn, if that’s what one is expecting to see.”
He acted as if he hadn’t heard her at all. “I said, I don’t think so.”
Tweaking her nose, he popped open the door and exited his vehicle. “It’s okay. I promise.”
He came around and held open the door for her. Unfortunately, the day wasn’t as chilly as it could be. In fact, it felt more like a typical autumn day than mid-December. So much for her hope to be snowed out. There wasn’t even a damned cloud in the sky.
Let’s get this over with.
When she got out and stood next to Dean, he fingered her hair for a minute, startling her. She jerked her head to look at him, but he just shrugged. “Just thinking it was a good thing you didn’t wear a hair clip.”
Did the animal bite? There were still a good couple of meters between her and Thor. “How about I stand here and you get a quick shot?”
Just then someone came out of the house. Dean smiled and crossed over to the man, who had to be pushing fifty, shaking his hand.
“Good to see you both.” He glanced at Jess. “Is this her?”
“It is indeed. Jess, this is Clifton Mathers. Cliff, my friend Jess Black.”
His friend. At least he wasn’t introducing her as his girlfriend. But why would he?
“Nothing to be afraid of, missy. Dean told me to make sure to give you one of our mildest mounts.”
“As mild as Thor?” The words just came out of nowhere.
Cliff shook his head. “No, I’ve got a little bitty thing picked out for you. One of our ponies.”
“A— A pony?” All she could think of was the beast who’d tossed her over its shoulder as if she were nothing more than a hunk of fairy floss years ago.
“She’s a tall pony. You’ll suit her just fine.”
Great. The combination of pony and tall did not make her feel any better.
Dean nodded at the fence. “I thought we might get a shot of us with Thor.”
She’d so hoped he’d forgotten about doing that.
“I think Thor would be delighted,” Cliff said.
Delighted. Well, at least one of them would be.
Dean waited until she shed her jacket, then handed his phone to Cliff. He eyed her when she made no move to walk over to the fence. Did he think she was just going to skip over there and hug the animal? Not bloody likely.
Unwilling to look like a total fool, she finally allowed herself to be tugged toward the white horizontal slats that made up the fence line. If she’d hoped Dean would keep his body in between her and the horse, she was soon disabused of that notion when he let go of her and moved to the other side.
What had she been thinking?
What had started as a quick fabrication by Dean to get her sister off her back had turned into a huge production that now included her parents.
Why did Dean even care what her sister thought?
Worse, he’d warned her that Abbie had talked to a couple of the nurses.
That made her swallow. She did not want to go down as a tick mark on a list of this man’s known conquests. She’d already had that happen once with Martin. Theirs had been a whirlwind affair and engagement. But once he’d met Abbie, that had been it. He had no longer been interested in her.
“Love, you need to scoot in a bit closer so I can get all of you in the picture.”
Cliff was speaking to her.
Closer? She gulped and peeked to the side. There was scarcely a meter between her and the horse as it was. She plucked up a few more ounces of courage and then sidestepped twice. A warm current of air gusted across her neck.
Ugh! The animal’s breath—not to mention she was probably within reach of those huge white teeth now. “Could we do this quickly?”
Dean reached over and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It almost worked.
Then, something warm and rubbery touched her neck, just above the collar of her light sweater, and brushed across it. She froze, waiting for a set of equine chompers to latch onto her. But they didn’t. A curious snuffling sound met her ears.
She chuckled. She couldn’t help it. The animal’s lips tickled. And he certainly didn’t seem to want to hurt her.
A few of her muscles relaxed, and she glanced sideways to find one of the horse’s deep brown eyes fastened on her. And the expression in them seemed...kind.
She and the horse continued to stare at each other, his neck curved in her direction, grassy breath sliding across her cheek with every breath he took. A sense of awe filled her.
“Wow.” It was the only word that came to mind.
“Perfect.” Cliff’s voice broke the spell, and she blinked back to herself. “I got some great shots.”
He had? When?
Dean came around the front of the horse and nudged the animal’s head away from her. “See? Not so bad.” His murmured words came right before he dropped a quick kiss on her mouth.
He pulled back almost immediately, but it was too late. Her lips tingled and a strange twitchy sensation came to life in her belly muscles.
Boneless.
That was what she felt. She stiffened her knees and forced them to hold her upright. It was just a quick friendly kiss of reassurance, like that hand squeeze had been a few minutes ago.
Except she could almost guarantee that friends didn’t make each other feel like that. As if she wanted him to linger and r
eassure her some more.
She’d even forgotten about Thor’s presence beside her—although he was back to snuffling around her sweater, his horsey lips blubbering and vibrating almost as much as her legs.
Thor’s antics had put her so at ease that when it actually came time to sit on a pony’s back—and Cliff was right, this particular pony was taller than the one from her childhood—it was all anticlimactic and dull. They got their pictures with no incidents and the next thing she knew they were back in his car and driving to the ice-skating arena.
Dean handed over his phone and told her to scroll through the pictures, to see if there were any good ones.
In the first few shots, even Jess could read the fear on her face, but as she continued scrolling she saw a change take place. At around the twentieth photo, she swallowed. Cliff had captured the moment Dean’s lips met hers. The angle was perfect, showing that her eyes were closed and that she seemed to be leaning into that brief touch.
Damn. If she could see that, then...
Maybe she could figure out how to delete it before Dean came across it on his own. But just as her finger hovered over the screen his hand came over hers, stopping it. “If you’re doing what I think you are, don’t. I did that for the benefit of your parents.”
Horror washed over her. The kiss had been staged?
How could she be so stupid? She’d actually believed...
With lightning speed she ran through the rest of the pictures without really seeing them and then handed the phone back. As if he realized something was wrong, he touched her cheek. “Hey. Just because it was planned, doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it.”
Far from reassuring her, it only made her feel worse. He had no problem kissing her and enjoying the physical pleasure without ever letting that pleasure seep any deeper. But as their failed bet had proved, she wasn’t nearly as adept at keeping things light and easy as he was.
If she was going to survive the next couple of weeks, though, she was going to have to figure out how Dean managed it. And then she needed to copy him step for step.
Otherwise, this man could very well break her heart.
CHAPTER EIGHT
JESS’S SKATES SCRAPED across the ice, bringing her to a halt right in front of him. She hadn’t said anything about being an expert skater. But she was. And the healthy pink flush to her cheeks was a welcome sight after the pale translucence her skin had had in those first few days that her niece had been in the SCBU.
“Having fun?” he asked. He had to admit that he was. In spite of the news of his father’s release from prison, and his concern about the preemie of their eclampsia patient, Dean was having a good time.
And most of it was due to the woman in front of him. This was why he didn’t do relationships. He’d learned the hard way that if you got too attached to a person, they would go away. His dad had gone to prison for beating his mother—which was a good thing—but it was damned hard to obliterate your feelings for a parent, no matter how heinous his behavior might be.
And then his mum. As soon as she’d recovered from that last beating, she’d decided she’d had enough of the whole ugly scene. Dean had been sixteen. Legally old enough to be emancipated, if they’d gone before a magistrate. But had his mum done that? No. She’d simply cut him loose and left him behind saying he was old enough to be on his own. After all, he’d already been working and had been almost through school.
And yet he still loved his mother, even after all these years, even if he hated the choices she’d made along the way.
“I’m having a wonderful time,” Jess said. “At least skating is one thing I’m not afraid of.”
“We should take some pictures here as well. After all, that’s why we came, isn’t it?”
A shadow fell across her face, the first since they’d put their skates on a half-hour ago. Jess was head and shoulders above him as far as skill levels went. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t liked watching her skim across the ice like some kind of professional athlete. He’d even seen a few of the men on the ice watch her as she flew past.
She wasn’t going to pick anyone up here, though. Even though their bet was over and done with, he wrapped an arm around her waist and reeled her in. Jess gave a quiet squeak. “What are you doing?”
He leaned in close. “Making sure everyone knows that you’re mine for the day.”
But not for the night. Which brought him back to that failed bet. Worst decision in history. He should have offered himself up for her little experiment at the very beginning, and been done with it. No more suppressed instincts. No more wondering what it might have been like if they’d fallen into bed together.
He was an expert at keeping his emotions out of any sexual encounters. He couldn’t say the same of Jess, which was what had ultimately stopped him. One of his biggest rules had always been to make sure the woman knew where things stood and what she could expect once the night was over.
There were women out there who could do that—despite what Jess thought. He’d met them. Slept with them. And everyone was still friends. Well, maybe not friends, but they could exchange a friendly smile and a few words of greeting if they happened across each other later.
Yep, it would be different with Jess.
As if she sensed his thoughts she pulled back, throwing him a quick smile. “I’m actually not anyone’s. For the day, or otherwise.”
With that, she whisked past him, doing an expert spin and then settling in to skate with easy grace, hands behind her back, eyes half closed as if soaking in everything she could.
He found himself doing the same. And since he was still standing in the same spot he’d been a few minutes ago, he forced himself to move, feeling like a lumbering oaf compared to Jess’s lithe movements.
She passed him again with an amused wave. A flicker of irritation went through him, this time. Maybe they should have stayed at Cliff’s house and settled in for a visit. But he’d wanted to do something that Jess would find fun, rather than stressful. The pictures had just been an excuse.
Instead, it was Dean who was stressed. Other couples held hands and moseyed around the rink and a small group of men stood on the outside perimeter watching the skaters—a few of them, the ones who’d eyed Jess earlier, probably wondering if she was single. Well, hopefully they’d gotten the message when he’d put his arm around her.
Jess, however, didn’t seem to care if anyone was ogling her from the sidelines. Well, then, he would just force himself not to care either.
“Helloooo...”
She was back, this time turning around and skating backward so that she faced him. “I just thought of something. If you’re in a hurry to get back, we can take a few pictures and leave. I know this wasn’t supposed to be a real outing, just a photo op.”
“I’m fine. I haven’t been away from the hospital in ages, other than to go home to sleep. It feels good to be out in the real world.” Something came to him. “But we do need some pictures. Better to do it now while there’s still plenty of light and people.”
He took her hand and pulled her toward the railing across from them, heading straight toward one of the men who’d been staring at her. With an easy smile he held up his phone. “Would you mind shooting a few shots of us as we go around the rink?”
The way the man’s face fell would have been comical, if he hadn’t been so obvious about his stares. The rental skates on the ground beside him said that he might even have gone out onto the ice in an attempt to reel in his catch once he’d singled one of them out. Wasn’t that what Dean would have done?
Possibly. Hopefully he wouldn’t have been quite so cold-blooded about the whole thing. It was one thing to engage in conversation that led to something else. It was another thing entirely to sit there like a predator, hoping to find a likely target.
Something ins
ide of him whispered a protest. Was he certain he wasn’t like that?
Yes. Definitely.
“Sure thing, buddy.” The man’s accent marked him as American. “Just let me know how it works.”
How it works is this: you stand there and take pictures and leave Jess the hell alone.
Dean showed him how to operate the camera function, hoping that the man didn’t just take off with it. Again, he had the idea that the bloke was just hoping to score a little something extra while on holiday. Well, he’d have to look elsewhere.
“Thanks.” He tossed the American one final glance before taking to the ice with Jess in tow. Soon, she turned the tables, however, pulling him along at a speed that was a bit faster than he was used to.
“Don’t forget you have an amateur on your hands.”
“That’s hard for me to believe. I think you’re an expert.”
In other things, was her inference. His irritation spiked a bit higher. It was one thing to have had that chat and bet about casual sex, it was another thing entirely to have her act as if it were a communicable disease that she had no intention of catching. Did she really think she was immune?
He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, his skates moving to the outside of hers and coasting. “Wh-what are you doing?”
“The man’s taking pictures, remember?”
“Pictures. Right.”
He leaned in and nuzzled her neck, feeling like old Thor and seeing exactly why the horse had engaged in a little love talk of his own. She smelled wonderful. And her skin was soft. Silky...
Someone sliced past, throwing them a quick glare. It was then that Dean realized the coasting had slowed to a crawl and that they were almost standing still, people flowing around them.
He ignored them. Pictures. He wanted her father to buy into their story.
The problem was, Dean was starting to buy into it himself. He kissed her ear. Her cheek. Slowly moving along it until he reached the corner of her mouth. Suddenly Jess spun around on one skate. But not to get away. No. She was now facing him. Looking up at him as if she wanted nothing more than for him to...