No. She shook her head at those naughty images. The man’s obviously stressed out to the breaking point. You don’t go around jumping people. It’s just not done. No matter what Mom said.
Unfortunately, that little voice inside her head decided to screw with logic. Like you didn’t watch that bead of sweat roll from his temple, down over the strong cords in his neck and slide under his t-shirt. You wanted to follow it.
With your tongue.
Gwen grimaced. “Doesn’t matter because I’m so not going there. He’s clearly not right in the head.”
“Someone I know?”
The low male voice came out of the dark and nearly gave her cardiac arrest. “God!” She gasped, slapping a hand to her chest and swiveled to stare at the man standing at the corner of the rose bed, practically on top of her.
Either she’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t heard – or seen – him approach, or he moved more silently than a ghost.Dim as it was, she couldn’t clearly make out his features, though she could tell he was dressed all in black, or some other dark color in monochrome, from his boots to a t-shirt that stretched taut over wide shoulders and lay loose at his abdomen. The jeans were also loose, and since his position put his groin at her eye-level, she had an unobstructed view of the enticing bulge under the fly. With some difficulty, Gwen forced her eyes upward to glare in Rome’s face. “You have got to stop doing that.” She hissed out.
“Doing what?” Rome’s face was all innocent confusion.
Gwen folded her arms over her chest, too aware she wore no bra under her sleep shirt, a cami really, paired with matching boxing shorts. Soft and lightweight, they were perfect for summer nights, the color a combination of sea green and white. But under Rome’s gaze she could feel her nipples bead and wanted to curse her lackadaisical habit.
Agitated, and hoping the night sky didn’t showcase the small buds of interest, she set the swing in motion again.
“You need to wear a bell or something so you don’t sneak up on people.”
One dark brow raised. “That would defeat the purpose.
If I wore a bell, then I wouldn’t be able to sneak up on people, now would I?”
Gwen’s eyes narrowed. “So you’re saying you wanted to scare me to death?”
White teeth flashed. “Of course not. You spoke so I thought you were talking to me. If you were talking to me, then you knew I was here.”
Gwen couldn’t fault his logic. She had spoken aloud.
To herself.
“Unless you were talking to yourself?”
While she wasn’t embarrassed at being caught having a conversation with herself, she felt her cheeks heat at what she had been talking herself out of. Rome. Her. Naked.
That about said it all.
Ignoring his question, she asked one of her own. “What are you doing out here? I figured you’d be sound asleep after your long drive.”
He gestured to the swing. “May I sit?”
The word “no” stuck at the back of her throat. Even at this short distance her body was reacting to him with full blown physical attraction. Her heart was beating faster, and while she could blame some of that on his startling her, the swirling sensation low in her belly was nothing but arousal.
Too bad her parents instilled proper manners in all their kids.
She stopped the gentle sway and scooted over. “It’s your swing.”
“Actually,” Rome folded himself on the cushion, placing his body close enough the scent of clean male, all spicy and fresh, rose up to tease her senses. “It’s my mom’s.”
Gwen didn’t answer, too busy trying to slow her racing heart. Mistaking her silence, Rome turned his head to look at her profile. “You’re not still mad about earlier, are you?”
“You mean when you flattened me in the mud? Nah.
Happens all the time.”
Rome heaved out a breath at her sarcastic response.
“I really am sorry. I wasn’t thinking properly.”
When he didn’t elaborate, she cocked her head inquisitively. “Because you were running on no sleep?”
Rome bit the side of his cheek. “You could say that.”
“And what would you say?”
“That I overreacted to a situation. Anyway. When I saw you out here I wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn’t hurt you or anything, did I?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “I’m fine. You’re the one that took the brunt of the fall since it was your back we landed on. Before you rolled on top of me.”
Oh shut up! She barely restrained from slapping a hand over her mouth for bringing up something that sounded a bit too sexual for her sanity. She pushed the swing in motion again.
“If it makes you feel any better, Santos and Porter haven’t stopped giving me crap over it.”
Gwen stiffened slightly and turned to look at Rome, her brows lowered in confusion. “Santos? But only Porter was there.”
Rome blinked, then his lips curled at the edges. “Yes, but he couldn’t wait to tell tales.”
“Ah.” Gwen glued her eyes forward. The swing was in a kind of alcove, secluded with tall hedges at the back, huge, flowering rose bushes in the front and a wide canopy covering the top. Combine that with the dark of the night and her attraction to Rome, she was finding his masculine presence more than a little tempting. She actually had to grip the material of her top at the sides where she’d planted her hands to keep them to herself.
“Do you ever take it down?”
At his quiet question, she once again turned to look at him, only to find his face inches from hers. She sucked in a rush of air. “What?”
“Your hair.” He reached out and wrapped his fingers gently around her braid, running his hand along the thick length. She swore she could feel the stroke in other, more intimate places and squeezed her thighs together. “It’s so long and thick.”
The husky whisper brought to mind a vastly different long and thick body part that she wanted to run her hand over.
“And straight, plain black.” She managed to say without betraying the tremor of need rippling along her flesh. “Other than cutting it all off, it’s the best way to keep it out of my way.”
The hand around her braid tightened briefly before the soft strokes resumed. “I hope you don’t ever cut it. And it’s a beautiful color. Not plain at all. Black as midnight.” Her eyes were held captive by the glint of heat in his. “I like midnight. When the clamor of the day softens to a seductive tone. Where dreams and passions come alive.”
Her throat went bone dry. Holy hell. He was seducing her. And she could feel herself falling for it. Wanted to fall for it.
Son of employers. Son of employers. Post traumatic stress. Menace to society. Son of employers.
The mental chant wasn’t enough to break the spell he wove, her blood kindling with desire, her breath becoming choppy as his head descended.
“What are you doing out here?” She blurted out her earlier question before his lips could touch hers.
Idiot, her inner voice screamed.
Self-preservation, she glowered back.
Rome inched his head back on a soft sigh of defeat, though he didn’t remove his hand which was now cupping the nape of her neck. Caressing fingers left trails of heat as he continued to stroke the sensitive flesh.
He didn’t say anything for several moments. Just looked at her with eyes that seemed to glow with a yellowish-green cast that held her mesmerized.
Must be the moonlight, she thought.
This time it was Rome who pushed the swing into a gentle sway. “We’re going to secure the cabin. Put in cameras, like you suggested, and sensors at the door. But my man can’t get out here until Monday. So until then,” one brow lifted and Gwen saw anticipation light his face. “We hunt.” “Hunt?”
“Watch. Wait. Look out for the bad guys.” His grin was wicked.
Her eyes went wide. “You’re going back out there?
Tonight? Hoping the perpetrators com
e back? Are you insane?”
His own eyes went flat, his expression hard. “We protect what’s ours.”
Gwen got that. She really did. But still. “What did the police say?”
He gave her braid a tug. “Install cameras. Honestly, there’s not much they can do except file a report and ask some questions. Oh. And the camera thing? It’s not for public knowledge. In fact, keep it to yourself. The less people who know, the less likely it is to get out.”
Something about his tone made her frown. “You’re not suggesting it’s someone affiliated with the Orchards, are you?” One powerful shoulder lifted. “Just trying to keep the information contained.”
In other words, it was a possibility. “But that’s crazy. It could be anyone. And if you didn’t want anyone to know, why did you tell me. Heck, I could be the digger.”
The corners of his eyes creased with his smile. “No, you most definitely are not.”
Truly curious, she asked, “And how do you know?”
Another quick tug of her braid and he pushed to his feet. “Oh. I know.” Then he turned on his heel and headed north, toward the reserve.
“Wait,” Gwen called out, the urgency no less diminished despite her lowered voice. “Aren’t you even going to take one of the jeeps to the gate? A flashlight?
Anything.” She hadn’t seen one on him.
“And warn anyone that might be out there? No.
Besides.” His eyes deliberating shifted down to her chest for a moment before lifting, paralyzing her with a wink full of male appreciation. “I see perfectly well in the dark.” Then he turned and the night swallowed him whole.
Gwen dropped her chin to peer at her chest, only to see that when she’d crossed her arms, she’d pulled the material of her top taut, stretching decorative white swirls over her breasts. Not only were her nipples hard, she could make out the faint dark rose of her areolas.
Face flushing a deep red, Gwen pressed her hands to her cheeks.
Could a day be any more embarrassing?
Chapter Five
Several buildings were scattered throughout the section of the property called the Orchards. Above the barn was an apartment Porter lived in, preferring some semblance of privacy amid the pandemonium of the estate.
Same with Santos, only he resided in a relatively new twostory house situated about a quarter mile to the northwest of the main one.
One section of the huge building to the northeast housed all the equipment needed for the processing of the olives into olive oil, while another section squeezed oranges into orange juice. A third, smaller, section contained several offices, including the one shared by Gwen, James and Dennis. While their job kept them mainly outdoors, they still needed a place to track hours, report problems, note down repairs or areas of maintenance, update any changes in plant and animal life and soil conditions, schedule hikes, store their gear and everything else that came with the position.
Gwen always left paperwork for rainy days.
Unfortunately, more rain was in the future and she was not looking forward to reducing the piles of paper residing on the desks. She and James had culled it down earlier this week, but it never did seem to disappear completely.
Now, with a hip propped against the larger of the two desks squeezed into the room, Gwen peered down at the lamented checklist. Though each ranger knew it by heart, one forgotten item could bring serious trouble, so she dutifully scanned everything in her backpack against the list.
She was also waiting on Dennis, who was late. A glance at the wall showed the time at seven-fifty. With a frown, she reached for the phone. The hike was planned for eight-fifteen and required two guides at all times for several reasons, the least of which was another body to drive the second jeep out to the gate.
In the middle of punching out a number on her cell, Gwen heard whistling coming from the hallway. Thinking it was Dennis, as the rest of the employees had the weekends off, she hung up the phone and tried to wipe the impatience off her face. The kid, though not really a kid at twenty-three, wasn’t normally late. In his last year of college, specializing in forestry, working at the Orchards was a boon to his resume and not something he would jeopardize. No doubt he had a good excuse and Gwen needed to tamp down her irritation at his tardiness.
Besides, if she was honest with herself, her cranky mood owed more to her restless sleep than anything else.
Long after she’d gone to bed she’d thought about Rome and how he was faring all alone, in the dark, way out at the cabin on the reserve. She’d even thought about going out there to keep him company. A brief idea she’d killed as soon as it popped up. Then when she did finally slip into sleep, it was to vivid dreams of what might have happened on that swing if she hadn’t stopped him from kissing her.
Now she was suffering the aftermath of an early alarm interruption at the most critical moment. With her skin feeling too warm and tight and the ache low in her belly, she could admit to herself that she should have taken those extra couple of minutes in the shower to alleviate the problem. But she’d thought her arousal would dissipate as the day wore on.
She squirmed, squeezing her thighs together for the hundredth time since waking. Yeah. That didn’t seem to be happening.
The whistling stopped and she looked up at Dennis with an inquisitive glance. Only it wasn’t Dennis that stood in the doorway. It was Rome.
“Good morning.” His dark eyes were lit with male approval as he took in her legs, bared by the khaki shorts she wore, and the loosely tucked in dark blue logo shirt that hinted at the full curves of her breasts.
The sight of him caused her stomach to clench in shear want, followed by embarrassment – the man had seen her nearly naked breasts last night after all! She covered it with a surprised, “Good morning. What are you doing out here?”
Rome slanted her a wry grin. “That’s the third time you’ve asked me that question since we’ve met.” Crossing his arms, he leaned a heavily muscled shoulder against the door frame. “I think I’m getting a complex.”
Gwen flushed. The estate did belong to his family and he had every right to be wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Except her bedroom of course, which made her flush even more as she recalled her dreams.
Agitated, she shifted away to rummage through her backpack, blindly checking the contents for the third time.
“Sorry. I just thought you’d still be in bed. Ah. Sleeping. In bed. After yesterday I mean. And last night. The guarding thing, I mean.”
Lord, just shoot me, she thought unhappily. What was it about this man that made every word that came out of her mouth sound like and innuendo?
“I caught a few hours after Porter relieved me.”
“Oh. That’s good.” And what she wouldn’t give for Melinda’s gift of gab right now. But after seeing those lips of his curl in a sensual smile, Gwen longed for another oral activity.
With a hard, internal shake of her head, she cleared out a few of the cobwebs spun by his nearness. “Just out and about, seeing what’s new?”
“Actually, I came looking for you.”
She stiffened, a little nervous at what he might wish to seek her out about. “Oh? Well you’ll need to give me a few minutes. I’ve got a hike to finish getting ready for and find myself one man short.”
“That’s why I’m here.” When she raised her head back up to look at him, he explained. “That Dennis kid showed up looking like something the cat dragged in.”
Alarm shot through her. “What happened?”
“Said he didn’t sleep well. Might be coming down with a cold.”
Gwen narrowed her eyes at Rome’s dubious tone. “But you don’t believe him?”
“The knuckles on his right hand are swollen and cut, and the way he held an arm to his torso makes me think he was on the receiving end of a few gut jabs. Nothing too serious, but enough to make him hurt.” Rome’s nose winkled in distaste. “He also smelled of alcohol.”
“He was drunk?” She’d
kill the miscreant.
A sharp shake of Rome’s head. “No. More likely he partied too hard last night, got into a fight, passed out, and woke with barely enough time to roll out of bed and drive to work. Dad saw him and sent him straight home.”
“Shit.” Gwen slumped against the desk. “That doesn’t sound like Dennis. I wonder what happened.” She shook her head. “Well, anyway, I need to talk with Andreas and find out if I can use Porter or Santos as my second.”
“All ready taken care of.”
That didn’t bode well. “And?”
“I’m all yours.”
That’s what she was afraid of. Her attraction to him was already too intense, as if some irresistible link had been forged between them from the moment he’d touched her. Knowing herself, spending more time in his company would result in one of two things. Either she would find herself irritated by little things he did or said and her interest would die a quick death, or she’d be even more drawn to him. She had a sinking feeling it would be the latter, which meant keeping her thoughts and actions on a professional level could prove difficult.
Pursing her lips, she looked him over. Ogled him actually. All in the name of professionalism of course. While his boots were serviceable, his jeans slung temptingly low and the brown T-shirt that clung to his torso would have to go. If he planned to play park ranger for the Orchards he had to wear one of their shirts.
Anticipation at seeing what lay under that taut material licked at her veins as she swiveled to one of the two metal cabinets in the office. “You’ll need a different shirt. To distinguish yourself as an employee. What size?” When he told her, she rifled through the small stack, making a mental note to order more shirts. She found an extra-large and turned to toss it to him, and nearly swallowed her tongue.
While she knew he’d have to take off his shirt to pull on the new one, seeing his bare chest without any warning was enough to stop her in her tracks. Strong, wide shoulders topped pecs that were hard and flat, leading to a droolworthy set of six-pack abs she could bounce a quarter off. Far from a detraction, the scars that marred his flesh only reinforced what he was, a warrior. He’d suffered horrible pain and trauma and lived to tell the tale. A light spattering of dark hair trailed down to almost nothing before increasing slightly where the top of his jeans hung below his navel. And the way he filled out the fly of those jeans? Her mind went completely blank.
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