Cowboy in Disguise

by ALLISON LEIGH,

  Where in the World is Jett? was the photo’s caption.

  Arabella turned the magazine to get a better look. “You think he’s hot? You can’t even see what he really looks like. Not with those sunglasses and that beard.”

  “Seriously? He’s got the bad-boy look nailed down.”

  Arabella shrugged. “My mom always says she wonders what guys are hiding behind their beards. I guess it’s stuck with me.” Jay’s clean-shaven face danced in her mind.

  “My mom says the same thing. But seriously, have you seen his music video? There’s a reason why that video put his name on the map.” Hallie fanned herself when Arabella shook her head. “Whether you like facial hair or not, you are missing out. Whenever I get depressed over my lack of a love life, I pull out my phone—” she did just that, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket to wave in the air “—and watch me some hottie Jett Carr crooning about his lost love and I am all good again.”

  Arabella couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She steeled herself against her protesting muscles and stood. They packed up their lunch boxes and reported back to duty. Hallie went to inspect some of the other rooms also under her watch while Arabella went to the floor pantry and retrieved the cart. She replenished the linens and carefully began backing it through the doorway.

  “How’s the first day going?”

  She jumped and turned around.

  Jay was leaning against the wall watching her.

  She forgot all about her sore feet and muscles. “It’s going great.” She waved her hand, taking in his appearance. “Back on food and beverage again?”

  “Shows, does it?” He grinned. “Some corporate thing going on this afternoon. Using the banquet room and a couple breakout rooms. I’m on water and coffee detail. Tough gig.”

  She laughed softly. “Did you ever have to do a stint in housekeeping?”

  “Yep.” He straightened away from the wall. “After the first day, I sent flowers to my mother and grandmother for all the years they spent cleaning up after me.”

  She laughed again and finished pulling the cart into the hall. “I’d better get to it. I’m already behind schedule.”

  He glanced around the piled-high cart, then leaned closer to her. “Hot tub in the fitness center does wonders for helping with the aches and pains.” His murmur next to her ear sent shivers dancing down her spine.

  She turned her head slightly toward him. His green eyes mesmerized. “Fitness center is for guests.”

  “It closes at nine.” His smile turned wicked. “And I have a connection who can get us in.” Then he kissed her lightly and straightened away from her just in time to avoid being caught by Grace Williams, who stepped out of the service elevator.

  “Good afternoon, Jay. Arabella. How’s the first day going?”

  Arabella couldn’t have wiped away the smile on her face if she’d tried. “Better than I ever dreamed.”

  Chapter Seven

  She met Jay outside the hotel that evening promptly at half-past nine.

  Prompt, because she’d waited in her car around the corner to the hotel for fifteen minutes so she wouldn’t look too eager.

  Even though she was, in fact, very eager.

  “Ready?”

  She nodded and felt even more breathless when he took her hand in his and led her around the side of the hotel to the door they’d used that day in January. Although she knew the balcony had been rebuilt since then, Arabella couldn’t help looking up at it a little warily as they passed it.

  Jay noticed. “It’s been inspected a couple dozen times over by now.” He knocked twice on the door.

  “I know.” Even the bushes that had been growing beneath the balcony had been replaced. “Kane and Brady have both talked about it.”

  The door opened and Mariana peeked out.

  Arabella eyed the woman with surprise, but Mariana just gave a quick look around as Jay pulled Arabella through the door and into the fitness center.

  “Thanks, Mariana.” Jay kissed the older woman’s cheek. “You’re a peach.”

  “Sweet and juicy,” Mariana quipped, giving a broad wink. “Just be sure to get out of here before the night crew comes in to clean at eleven.” Then whistling tunelessly, she hurried out of sight.

  There really was no need for Jay to hold Arabella’s hand as they made their way through the well-equipped room. Dim lights lit the perimeter, illuminating the way well enough.

  But Arabella didn’t tug her hand free and Jay didn’t let go of it either, not until they reached the opposite end of the space and he pointed at the sign on the door. Women’s Lockers. “You have your suit?”

  She patted her trusty book bag. “Even brought a towel of my own. Just in case.”

  “Hot tub is through there.” Jay pointed to an archway. “Meet you there.”

  Her eagerness reached such a peak she was possibly in danger of passing out. She nodded and hurried into the women’s locker room and reminded herself to breathe again. She quickly changed into her swimsuit and pulled her hair up into a high ponytail. Then she wrapped the towel she’d stolen from Brady’s around her waist, bundled her sundress and undies into her book bag and slung the strap over her shoulder.

  Heart pounding, she peered around the edge of the locker room door, and squealed out loud when Jay moved. She pressed her hand to her chest and slipped through the doorway. “For a second there, I thought we’d been caught!”

  His teeth flashed. “Nothing like the fear of getting caught to keep things exciting.”

  She swallowed hard, not certain how to take that particular innuendo.

  He’d changed out of his jeans into a pair of black-and-gray board shorts, and his white shirt hung unbuttoned over his chest. It was nearly impossible to keep her eyes from straying to the strip of flesh showing. It seemed as rude as guys who just stared at a girl’s chest. Or in her case, her lack of one. “What if we do get caught?”

  “Don’t know,” he admitted. “Hasn’t happened yet. Pretty sure you’d be safe, though.”

  Yet.

  He’d done this before. Of course he had. “Why would I be safe?”

  He winked. “You’ve got the right name.”

  “But it wouldn’t save me from embarrassing Brady.”

  “Want to sneak back out?”

  Arabella didn’t hesitate. Not even figuring she wasn’t the first girl he’d brought there was enough to sway her. “No.”

  His smile widened. “Good.” He closed his hand over her elbow and drew her toward the archway.

  The in-ground hot tub was oval shaped and large enough to accommodate at least a dozen people. It was surrounded by several mesh lounge chairs and several potted plants that looked real. The ceiling overhead was vaulted and with the lights low the way they were, gave the impression of being open-air even though it really wasn’t.

  Jay let go of her and shrugged off his shirt, pitching it at one of the chairs as he passed it on his way to the control panel. A second later, the hot tub lit up from an underwater light and the surface began churning. He joined her where she was still hovering near the chair. She’d hung her bag off the back of it and glanced around, because wondering if there were security cameras felt safer than getting caught ogling his bare torso.

  She didn’t see any cameras but maybe they were just more discreetly placed here than they were in the rest of the hotel. “How many times have you done this?”

  “Twice before.” He’d been wearing tennis shoes with no socks and he toed them off before stepping to the edge of the churning water. “Stepped wrong a while back and sprained my ankle.” He stood on one foot and rotated the other. “Whirlpool helped.” He stepped down onto the first step and the water swirled around his calf.

  “I sprained my wrist once and the doctors put me in a sling for more than a week,” she said a
bsently. He was slim but that only made the V from waist to broad shoulder even sharper. And slim, she realized, didn’t mean undefined. He was practically a textbook study in musculature and sinew. He had a small tattoo near his shoulder blade that she couldn’t quite make out.

  “Didn’t bother with a doc. Not the first time I’ve sprained something. I know the drill.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at her, catching her in the act of squinting at him. His eyebrow rose. “Ready to take the plunge?”

  She could have fanned herself in the same way that Hallie had done during lunch.

  There was nothing seductive about her utilitarian tankini. The only thing it had going for it was the jaunty blue-and-white stripes of the halter top that supposedly gave the impression of curves where there were none. Feeling as self-conscious as if she were stripping down to her undies, she pulled the towel from around her hips and dropped it on the chair. He hadn’t brought one, she realized. “Is it hot?”

  His lips tilted. “Very.” His gaze never left her face as she gingerly dipped her toe in the water. “The water’s pretty warm, too.”

  She hoped he’d blame her flush on the steam rising from the churning water.

  His smile widened and he took another step down into the water. “Come on. I remember what a workout it is cleaning rooms. Fitness industry’s missing out on a whole trend if you ask me.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. It was a fine time to start having reservations. “Are you sure we’re not going to get caught?” No matter what he thought, having the last name Fortune didn’t mean they had a pass on following the rules of the hotel.

  “You are getting cold feet.”

  “No, I’m not!” She made a face because it was so obvious to them both that she was. “No,” she said more firmly.

  “I’ve known Mariana since I was a kid. She’s not going to tell a soul about this,” he said calmly. “And the only cameras down here are in the hallways that head to the lobby in one direction and Roja in the other. I’ve done my research on that score. I know where they’re all located.”

  “The advantage of working in every department, I guess.”

  “Something like that. And nobody should be here until the cleaning crew.” He held out his hand. “You heard Mariana. Time’s tickin’, sweetheart. So what’s it going to be?”

  She looked at his palm extended to her. Even in the dim light she could see the ridge of calluses across his fingertips.

  She swallowed hard and quickly placed her hand in his. His fingers closed around hers, steadying her as she stepped down into the water.

  It was like being encased in comfort and she wasn’t entirely sure if that was owed to Jay’s hand clasping hers or the steaming, churning pool. Either way, she couldn’t stop a heartfelt groan. Nearly all of her nervousness floated away. Magical. “Oh, yessss.”

  “Had a feeling you’d like it.” Jay didn’t let go of her hand until she stood waist deep in the water. Then he moved toward one end of the oval and sat, stretching out his arms on the travertine coping behind him. The water bubbled around his shoulders. “Jets are stronger over here.” He patted the curved tile.

  She walked toward him and the tub got deeper toward the center of it, but never so deep that she couldn’t reach the bottom and still keep her chin above water. He’d said he’d used the hot tub because of a sprained ankle, but she still couldn’t help wondering if he’d been alone or not.

  It was the only fly in this heavenly ointment.

  She sat down near him, keeping a circumspect arm’s length between them, and pretended not to see the way his lips twitched. Unlike him, though, she slumped down as far as she could in the water until the bubbles flitted over her chin, tickling her nose as they popped and spit. “I haven’t had a bath since I left Buffalo,” she said. “Well, showers obviously,” she qualified hastily.

  “No tub at your brother’s place?”

  “Yes, but it’s usually filled with the twins’ bath toys. And the hot water only goes so far.”

  “Gran has a big old claw-foot thing in the middle of her peach orchard.”

  Arabella turned slightly toward him and felt the thrum of water pound against her side. She arched slightly, relishing the massage. “What does she grow in it?”

  “Bubbles?” His eyes smiled. “She takes baths in it. Heats the hot water in a big old barrel on wheels with a propane burner that my grandfather rigged up when I was still a kid. Sort of like those things that people use these days to fry a turkey. Only a helluva lot bigger.”

  She bent her elbow on the coping and propped her head on her fingertips. “Have to admit, I have a hard time envisioning that.”

  His chuckle was low and deep and as much a physical pleasure as the hot, bubbling water was. “Wish I had a hard time envisioning it,” he said. “Accidentally discovered her using it once when I was a teenager. Couldn’t bring myself to visit her again for a few years. Love my grandmother. Did not want to see her lolling around in a bathtub in the middle of a peach orchard.”

  She laughed softly and sank deeper in the water again. Her ponytail dragged in the water, floating like a coiled rope between them. “Your grandmother’s amazing.”

  “Always has been. Just took me getting old enough to appreciate it.”

  “Is your mom like her? I know you said she’d rather your grandmother move to Houston, but—” She broke off. He was already shaking his head.

  “Mom is nothing like her mom. But that’s okay.” He shrugged. “I’m nothing like my dad. Doesn’t mean there’s a lack of love because of it.”

  “Preferred selling insurance over teaching math, hmm?”

  “I didn’t sell insurance.” He lowered his arms into the water and his fingers toyed with her ponytail. “I was working on becoming an actuary.”

  She twisted a little more, centering the waterjet against a fresh ache. “Doesn’t that entail like all math?”

  “Math. Statistics.” He suddenly rotated until his legs floated straight out toward the middle of the hot tub and his arms were stretched out, hands cupping the coping as he faced her.

  “Not so different than your dad, then.”

  He ducked his chin in the water almost to his nose and in the dim light, his green eyes looked dark above the water. She could still see the laughter in them, though. Especially since the arm’s-length distance between them had somehow been reduced by half.

  He lifted his chin. “I hated it. Spent all that time studying actuarial science in school and went straight into the field, only to detest every minute of it. The second I could afford to, I got out of it.”

  “What’d you really want to do? Be a pilot?”

  He bent his arms, pulling himself closer to the edge.

  Closer to her.

  Still floating. But closer.

  “Not necessarily.”

  “And now you’re here. Hotel Trainee Cross.”

  “So are you, Hotel Trainee Fortune. At least it offers a lot of variety.” His expression shifted and she couldn’t help wondering if he even realized it. “Expectations are straightforward,” he said flatly. “Honest day’s wage for an honest day’s work. Nobody trying to make you into something you’re not.”

  “Plus an illicit hot tub session now and then.”

  His face lightened again just as she’d hoped, and his hands inched closer to her shoulders. “Illicit.” His deep drawl gave the word an added nuance.

  She sucked in a breath that was too redolent of chlorine to be particularly helpful. She turned until her spine was in front of the jet again and suddenly found Jay floating directly in front of her, his hands on either side of her shoulders.

  “That’s a great word.” His gaze roved over her face, seeming to rest on her mouth. He drifted closer. “Evocative,” he murmured, just loud enough to be heard over the bubbles and jets.


  “I...like words.” She moistened her lips that, impossibly, felt dry despite the water all around them.

  “They have a power,” he agreed. He ducked his chin in the water again and closed the distance even more.

  She felt him kiss the point of her shoulder and then the curve of her neck. Her head fell back, resting against the tile. She watched him from beneath her lashes. “Who else have you snuck in here like this?”

  A quick line came and went between his dark eyebrows as if the question surprised him. “Only you.”

  She wanted to believe him more than she wanted her next breath. The jetted water seemed to be pushing her spine away from the wall until her legs floated upward and glanced against his. Lightly. Tantalizingly.

  He let go of the wall with one hand and lowered it to the seat beside her.

  Then he kissed the point of her collarbone and her head fell back a little more, only this time the tiled wall wasn’t behind her. It was just swirling water that seemed to bear her torso upward toward his.

  Or maybe that was his hand, now splayed flat against the small of her back beneath the tank-length top of her swimsuit. They were both floating now, anchored only by his one hand on the edge of the pool.

  His legs slid against hers and she trembled when her abdomen brushed against the hard barrier of his chest. His head dipped again into the water and she felt his mouth brush her skin right at the deepest V of her halter top. He raised his head again. “Yes or no?”

  She realized his hand was at the tie behind her neck. “Yes, please,” she exhaled the words.

  His lips curved and she felt a faint tug. Then the jaunty blue-and-white stripe started to float away from her shoulders. She was in no danger of losing the top altogether. The tie merely held up the bra portion. And regardless of her insecurities where her slight figure was concerned, when his head dipped back into the water to catch a rigid nipple between his lips, some portion of her reeling sensibilities decided they were just about right for this particular moment.