by Stacy Hoff
Ryder felt her stomach clench and frowned. “As much as I love the hat, I’ve got to admit that’s way out of my price range.”
The saleswoman smiled. “We also have less expensive price points for our one-of-a-kind inventory. Look around and let me know if you’d like me to price anything else for you.”
The saleslady left them to browse.
“You’re not going to let me buy it for you, right?” Jake asked quietly.
“No, I’m not. But thank you for offering. It’s very sweet of you. However, I respect your wallet as much as I do mine. Two thousand dollars is a month’s rent in Queens. I’m living in the stable hands’ quarters because my landlord decided to sell the building I was in. I hated moving out, my apartment had a really nice set up. I still haven’t found another nice place that isn’t going to drain my bank account dry. I’m tinkering with whether to ante up for a down payment on a house but haven’t decided yet.”
“What kind of house?”
She laughed. “Don’t worry. Not one nearly as big as yours. Come on, we might as well get going. We passed a coffee house two blocks down that’s calling my name.”
“Sure,” he answered. “You go ahead. I’ve got to make a quick call, and I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”
“Okay,” she quipped happily as she exited the shop.
The minute Ryder left the shop, Jake called over the saleswoman. “How fast can you make a hat?”
“We don’t actually make these hats. Some are made by well-known designers. Others we design ourselves on hat frames we buy. We can custom decorate those however you need.”
“Okay. How fast can it be done? Tomorrow?”
The sales woman arched an eyebrow. “We can work all night, but that kind of client attention does not come cheap. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather see what we have in inventory?”
“Do you have one in white, yellow, and red? Preferably with a diamond pattern somewhere in there?”
“No. I do have one in a solid navy and another decorated in cream and brown.”
“I need it done my way. How about three thousand dollars if you can do it by tomorrow at 9:00 a.m.?”
The saleslady stuck out her hand. “Deal. Do you have any pictures so I’m sure of the exact hues and shape of the diamond pattern?”
“Yes.” He fumbled around with his wallet for a business card, then grabbed one and handed it to her. “The symbol for Carter Stables. Come as close to this as you can.”
Glancing down at the card her eyes went wide. “Yes, Mr. Carter, of course.”
“Fantastic. Thanks.” He handed her his credit card. “Ring it through and I’ll be on my way. Have the hat dropped off at the Saratoga Arms, where we’re staying.”
Moments later, he was off to Uncommon Grounds to meet Ryder.
“Don’t enjoy your coffee too much,” Jake warned.
“We paid for it but can’t enjoy it?” Ryder asked playfully. “Seems like a waste of money to me, even for a guy who drives a Ferrari.”
“It’s because I don’t want to waste money that we have to go. I booked a spa treatment for you at the Roosevelt Bath & Spa. Ever been there?”
“No, I haven’t. But I’ve heard of it.” She grinned. “If you’re trying to woo me, it’s working.”
Jake smiled. “Is that all it’s going to take for my wooing to work? Because if it is, I’ll buy the spa right now.”
“It’s a historic spa, isn’t it? Right in Saratoga Spa State Park. I’m sure it’s not for sale. Not even for you, Mr. Megabucks.”
“Are you teasing me?”
“No way. I never tease. Just don’t make an offer to buy the place in front of me. It’ll be embarrassing.”
“Finally. A weapon to lord over you. Excellent.” He laughed. “Let’s go.”
Ryder was by herself, having been left by Jake as soon as he checked her into the brick-laid Roosevelt Bath House. This historic building, like all the others in the park, was retrofitted with some modern fixtures. An eclectic blend of old and new that managed to beautifully work together.
When Ryder’s name was called by the spa staff she was shown into a small private room with a sunken bathtub, upholstered chair, and a massage table. The tile, tub, and chair looked original for the time. In fact, the whole room felt like a time warp. “Is this room original?” she asked.
“The whole room, including the bathtub, is original. Only the paint color on the wall has been changed since the 1930’s.”
“Wow.” Ryder was duly impressed until she noticed the dark brown water in the tub. Her eyes went wide. “Um, is the water supposed to look like that?”
“Yes, don’t worry. The water’s brown from all the minerals,” the attendant explained. “You’ll soak for forty minutes so they seep into your body. The spring water has been warmed up for you but try not to make it any hotter, it’ll dilute the amount of minerals and make the bath less effective.”
Ryder gave the water a doubtful look and clutched the spa’s oversized robe around her tighter.
“Trust me, you’ll love it,” the attendant assured. “You’re very petite so you might bounce around from all the bubbles. Try to anchor yourself with this,” she said, handing over a blue plastic stool. “Place this against the back of the tub and push back on it with your feet. It’ll help keep you from floating around.”
“I’ll float from all the bubbles? Really?”
The woman nodded. “The water is naturally carbonated. When you’re in there you can pretend you’re floating in a giant glass of champagne. Have fun. I’ll knock when the time is over and give you a warm fresh towel. When you’re all dried off we’ll start your massage.” The attendant turned to leave.
“Wait, Miss—” Ryder put an arm out to touch the attendant’s shoulder.
“Yes?”
“Do these mineral baths really work?”
The woman stopped and smiled. “For most people they do. Some folks find it helps them quite a lot. Some only a little. Even the ones who don’t feel physically improved enjoy the experience anyway.”
“What does the water do?”
“Soothes frayed nerves. Relaxes muscles and heals damage. Reduces bone aches and stomach ailments. There are also minerals in there that treat all kinds of skin conditions. They soften up rough or damaged skin so much you’d think it belongs on a baby.”
This time Ryder’s eyes grew even wider. “Really?”
“For some people,” she confirmed. “Maybe for you, too. Let me know. In the meantime, there’s a call button on the wall to push if you need me.” The woman shut the door behind her.
Ryder stood alone for a minute, hesitating before she took off her robe. Can I be this lucky? Ryder put the stool down next to the tub and gingerly stepped in. Here goes nothing.
The submersion in the tub was deeper than she thought, the water level rose up to her neck. After a moment of trying to settle in, the bubbles kicked up. Not enough to be too visible but enough to lift her body. Her legs, arms, and breasts rose up to the water’s surface.
Placing the stool as instructed allowed her to stay straight and secure. With her head against the back of the tub, she closed her eyes. Stress drifted away. Pleasant thoughts drifted in.
The bubbles felt so good against her skin. They floated and popped at a slow steady pace. Some popped against her scars. She peered down into the water but could not see the blemishes, or anything else, through the dark-brown liquid.
Amazing. People have been sitting here in this exact same tub for almost a hundred years. Some folks must have wanted mental relaxation. Some no doubt wanted physical relief. And some prayed for the deepest healing. Healing they longed for. Like her.
Lying in the dark waters of the barely lit room, she felt the bubbles lift not o
nly her body but her spirits. In the dark, her body was as flawless as everybody else’s. Only those close to her would ever know the marks were even there. Those people had always accepted her battle scars because they accepted her.
Was Jake one of those people? He hadn’t seen her scars dead on, but he knew they were there. Surely he, too, accepted her, flaws and all.
Could she accept her flaws as well? Conquer her fear of not living up to people’s high expectations? Or her own high expectations?
Chapter 13
Jake sipped a cappuccino on the patio of the Gideon Putnam Hotel, waiting for Ryder to finish her bath and massage. The hotel was historic and elegant, a stone’s throw from the Roosevelt Bath House. Once she was done having her spa treatments, he’d pick her up so they could enjoy a night on the town.
Ryder was right, his mission was to win her over. Not just her body, but her mind. Like a thoroughbred racehorse, Ryder was skittish. There were walls around her for some reason. They would be tough to break through.
The whole purpose of this trip was for him to chisel away at her defenses. The spa treatment would hopefully get her relaxed enough to be receptive to what he had to say. Getting her to trust him would be hard. He’d take the help where he could get it. If it came in the form of bath water, so be it.
It was clear she wanted to be a jockey again. Equally clear, she was terrified. The thought that people judged her dream harshly paralyzed her.
For some reason she seemed to think people judged her appearance harshly, too. Sure she was petite, but she was athletically built with a beautiful face to match. Her torso was somewhat scarred up, but who cared?
He’d never been one to judge a woman’s appearance unkindly. Ironically, she was, even if directed only toward herself. Her struggle to keep her body hidden, even from his eyes, made him wonder what was in her head.
Jake checked the time on his Rolex, drained the bottom of the white mug, placed a twenty-dollar bill on the table, and got up to leave. Ryder’s spa time should finally be up. With any luck she’d already be dressed. He’d made dinner reservations at one of the best restaurants in town, The Patio at 15 Church. Reservations there were not easy to come by. If they were late for their eight o’clock table it would be gone. Snatched up by the next horse owner ready to descend on it like a bird of prey.
The day had been more fantasy than reality to Ryder. The last stop had been drinks and dinner at one of the best hot spots in town. The Patio at 15 Church had been more than merely a place for great cocktails, it had been a romantic wonderland. Overhead fans from the open-air pergola created a light breeze through the otherwise stifling hot night air. Instrumental music played softly through hidden loudspeakers. Rock wall fountains glowed in ever changing lights. She had sipped her Burke’s Lemonade slowly, savoring every minute of the bubbly vodka drink, while watching the fountain’s lights bathe the wall in pinks, purples, golds, and blues.
Jake had held her hand while they enjoyed the drinks and each other. Their conversation had flowed as easily as the water in the multi-colored rock wall.
It had almost been a shame to leave. Almost. Her head buzzing from the prospect of spending a night with him again was the only adequate incentive. Thoughts of what they’d be doing were bubbling up in her blood at a much higher intensity than the Roosevelt Bath House’s tubs. Fortunately Jake had chosen an in-town location for them to stay the night, only walking distance away from the restaurant. By the time they keyed into the garden level suite of the Saratoga Arms she was as hot as the night air.
“We’re all alone,” he murmured.
“Convenient, don’t you think?”
“Extremely. Anything else you need to say, do it now. You won’t be able to speak for a long while after this. I’ve got much better plans for your mouth.”
Man, it’s hot in here. Before she could utter a last response, he picked her up and dropped her on the bed with a grin. The lush pillow and mattress he’d placed her on felt like nothing less than a cloud of air. Appropriate, since she felt like she was floating.
Closing her eyes, she blocked out the light that enveloped the room and allowed herself to enjoy nothing but the feel of sensations. The cool air against her skin as he started to undress her.
Until a thought made her tense up. “Would you mind shutting the light off?”
“Actually, I do. You’ve never given me a chance to see your body,” he said, his voice as soft as his touch. “I’m sure your petite figure is as beautiful as your face. I want to see you. All of you.”
She shook her head. “Maybe some other time. Can you kill the lights now? Please?”
His brow furrowed. “Talk to me, Ry. What’s going on with you?” He gave her a sardonic look. “You really do think I’m ugly.”
A small smile spread across her face. “I’ve already seen you in the buff. You are a very handsome man, Jake Carter.” Then her smile faded. “The only person who’s unattractive here is me.”
“Ryder—”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Lifting her head, she kissed him. “There are so many other things we could be doing.” To make her point, she gestured toward the zipper of his slacks.
She was shocked when he gently pushed her away. “But—”
“I need you to trust me.”
Shit. I have to start getting weepy now? “No. Just no. Okay?”
He didn’t answer her. His expression looked like he was in pain. Was her defense shield actually hurting him? Driving a wedge between them?
With a move so fast she didn’t have time to second-guess herself, she got up to strip. Moments later, she was completely naked. Though her body shook from nerves she stood there for a full ten seconds, her eyes focused on the wall. Then she dive-bombed back into the bed, the blanket wrapped around her tight enough to be a shroud.
A sea of stomach acid stormed inside her. Tentatively she looked at his face to gauge his reaction. His expression, however, remained neutral. “Say something. Damn it!” She swallowed hard and averted her gaze. “Please?”
“Let go of the blanket, Ry.”
Biting her lip, she did as he asked. Then she felt him trace the lines of her scars with his fingertip. Softly, gently, as if a mere feather. Her skin flinched at first and then relaxed. Heat soon surged wherever his hand stroked.
Until a thought cooled her down. He can’t possibly be okay with this.
“Stop making that face,” he chastised lightly. “I see your scars. They’re not a big deal. To me, anyway. I’m sorry you’re so worried about them.” He stretched out next to her, lying on his side to face her. “What’s it going to take to prove I think you’re beautiful?”
She ignored the feel of a single trickle rolling down her cheek. “A trophy. You got one?”
His lips curved upward. “I’ll have one ordered right away. I’ll even get it engraved for you. Most Attractive Woman. First Place in Both Head and Heart Categories.”
Wide-eyed, she stared at him. His words made her heart beat faster.
“Ry, I’m beyond attracted to you. Inside and out. I want to be with you. See where our relationship goes. I can talk to you in ways I can’t with any other person. I don’t just want you in my bed. I want you in my life.” He took her hand and placed it against his lips. “I want to be with you, Ryder. In every possible way.”
His other hand traced the outline of her curves, forcing a ripple of pleasure to shimmer through her.
Timidly, she took a hand and traced the outline of his body as he had hers. The cool feel of his skin was in stark contrast to the burning trail he left on her. She opened his button-down shirt. Let her hand glide over his tight abs. Up toward his torso. When she stroked his nipple his eyes closed in apparent bliss.
The fine hairs of his chest felt like downy feathers. The comparison of h
im to a baby bird almost made her laugh until she stroked a part of him lower down. There was nothing funny about the length and hardness of this gorgeous man, merely awe. A soft groan escaped his lips. “My Lord, Ryder. What you do to me.”
What you to do me.
He got up to strip his clothes off, moving faster than one of his racehorses. When he got back into bed he put his hand over hers. “Touch me,” he ground out.
“I want to.” Reaching down to hold his naked length, she could feel him twitch in anticipation. When she tightened her grip she felt him tighten, too. A drop of slickness smoothed the strokes of her hand motion, which was tantalizingly slow. She relished the pleasure she was giving him.
“You’re killing me,” he said through gritted teeth. “But if I have to die, this is how I want to go.”
“Don’t die. You’re the one man who could never be replaced.”
He looked at her dead-on. “I won’t. I’d hate to leave you.”
She blinked, melting from his words even more than she had from his acceptance of her body. Or from the searing sexual fire building within.
He moved on top of her and brought his lips down to hers, followed by a trail of kisses down her breasts. Lower and lower until he traced the soft fine hair above her thighs with his fingers. And then with his tongue.
She bit back a cry as her hips bucked. Soon she shattered into a thousand tiny little shards of glass.
Riding high from her orgasm, she barely realized when he pulled away to sheath himself. When he finally did enter her, his long, strong strokes caused her body to combust, his hardness putting her in a blissful haze. A torturous tension built up that cried out for release.
When her second orgasm hit, it finally managed to extinguish the blaze. A moment later, she felt him combust, too.
They lay there together, only moving to wrap their arms around each other. They stayed locked this way, connected in body and in mind.