Luke couldn't resist kissing her again, quickly and lightly, at that bold statement. “Settle for saving me. Friday and every other day. Now hurry and get bundled up or I'll cheat and get a head start instead of waiting for you."
"You're on! I make a mean snowman. Even with a head start, Luke Foster, you'd never outdo me,” she smirked and then raced for her mittens and jacket.
"Oh yes I will,” he promised the empty air behind her. “While you're busy running, I'm setting you up.” Luke gave a diabolical laugh at the thought.
She'd just agreed to be introduced to his business associates, professionally, as his future wife. The announcement had already been sent to the paper, using one of Wendy's handy photographs of the two of them. Soon he'd have her registering for crystal and picking a china pattern and—and she'd be lost. Hopelessly trapped in an endless snare of formalities that tied her tightly to him. By the time she realized the hoax had grown and overwhelmed her, the invitations would be in the mail and the flowers ordered.
She didn't have a chance. And no one was going to ride to her rescue to save her from the man in black, either. But he didn't think she'd be too distressed. At least not for long. She'd been happy to see him, hadn't she? She'd smiled and looked pleased when he teased her. She'd glowed when he offered to build a snowman with her.
She had to be falling in love with him. And if she wasn't, he intended to lure her out to the edge of that precipitous leap, because Luke Foster did not fall alone. He had a reputation to uphold as a desirable and eligible bachelor. Not to mention as the dark and dangerous man in black. No self-respecting outlaw rider would let a damsel in distress charm his horse out from under him and his hat off his head. No matter what she wore ... or didn't wear.
Thinking of that, he frowned and started after her. He wouldn't put it past Jordan to run outside just the way she was to get a jump on him, and she could be outside turning blue right now. She might need to be thawed.
Instead, she needed to be muffled, which Luke did while she zipped her jacket despite her squirming and protesting. “I don't need something on my head. I'll be fine. Come on, Luke, hurry up."
"You do, too, need something on your head.” He wound the scarf over the top of her hair, then wrapped it under her chin. “Heat loss. Body heat gets lost through the top of the head faster than anywhere else."
"You're making that up. You're trying to distract me,” Jordan accused. “You're afraid of the competition. My snowman will be better than yours anyway. I'm creative."
"You're insane and I'm not going to let you freeze.” Luke arranged the covering to his satisfaction then led her outside. Bright sun reflected off the new snow but the air held the cold bite of winter in spite of the sunshine. “Besides,” he continued, “we could just make one together."
"Aha! I knew it!” Jordan whirled to laugh in his face. “You're afraid of a challenge. You're trying to con me into lending you my talents again.” Her breath made puffs of steamy condensed moisture as the warmer air met and mixed with cold.
His light blue eyes met hers steadily as he drawled, “You want a challenge? You're on. But you should know they call me the Snowball Kid."
She laughed in delight. “The Snowball Kid?"
"That's right,” he boasted quietly, settling his hands on his hips and swaggering towards her in his best John Wayne mode. Then without warning, he grabbed her hand and pulled her with him to the ground. They fell into wet snow that clung and packed when Jordan brushed a mittened hand across the white surface.
Then, to her amazement, he rolled onto his back beside her, still holding her hand and moved arms and legs in a definite snow angel.
She sat up. “What are you doing?"
He smiled at her. “Being spontaneous. Wild and unpremeditated. Try it."
She hesitated, then grinned and fell back into the snow and made an angel of her own.
He eyed it critically. “Not bad, but I expected better from the Snow Queen."
Carefully he rose from the packed outline without disturbing the pattern made by his body in the snow and stood, then extended a hand to help her up. Jordan let him pull her up and kept from disturbing her own design.
Together they looked at the outlines in the snow. His was huge and hers was tiny, and the two forms were visibly holding hands.
"Oh, that's great,” she gasped. She hugged her arms around his waist and grinned at him. “What a good idea. I've never made hand-holding angels before."
Luke brushed snow from her cheek and tucked white-blond hair back under her scarf. “I'm the first guy you've made an angel with in the snow, huh?” he asked lazily, careful to keep the desire in his voice under control.
He wanted to do things with her that would melt the snow, but now was not the time. He'd made a mistake last night, coming on too strong. It was the influence of that dress, of course. How could any man resist a temptation like that? Even a man sworn to saintliness wouldn't be oblivious. But, for now, he'd be content to see Jordan smile at him and feel comfortable in his presence again.
Her dimples deepened. “Yes. And now I think we should make snow monsters."
Without another word, she slipped from his arms and threw herself into packing and rolling the beginnings of a snowman. Luke couldn't stop himself from smiling at the picture she made. An animated snow angel. The kind that moved and laughed, not the kind that lay quiet and frozen on the ground. That was what she looked like—a snow angel.
Whenever Jordan looked that innocent, trouble was brewing. Luke braced himself for it with a tantalizing mixture of trepidation and anticipation and went to start his own snow creation.
A half hour later, Jordan tapped on his broad shoulder. “Ahem."
He turned and quirked a brow at her. “Yes?"
She smiled sweetly, her gray eyes dancing. “I'm done. How about you?"
He considered her impish face. “I'm done, too.” He stepped back and let her see his snowman. He thought he'd done well. The figure had a hat, nose, mouth and scarf sculpted from the snow and he thought it would impress even her.
She eyed it politely and nodded at last. “Not bad ... for a beginner."
He frowned. “Not bad? It's great. It's better than great. I think you're jealous."
She smirked. “Oh yeah?” She waved a mittened hand in the direction of her own creation.
Luke followed the line of her hand and started to laugh. The snow angel had indeed made a snow monster. A hideous snow demon, suspended in the act of lurching across the yard.
"That's going to terrify your nephews,” he choked out, still laughing. “We'd better warn Randall to keep them away."
She gave him an indignant look. “It will not. It's great! It's beautiful."
It was hideous. There was no other word to describe the monstrosity. “Jordan, it'll give them nightmares. It might give me nightmares. It's macabre. Horrific. Not to mention bizarre."
She scowled at him. “I love it."
He grinned at her and cupped her cheeks, pink with cold. “I do, too."
She stopped scowling and charmed him with her dimples again. He should have known then. Her gray eyes were melting pools of innocence, her soft lips curved in the sweetest of smiles. She radiated purity. He should have known, but all he could think about was the memory of those soft lips moving against his. Until an icy shock jolted him from his fantasies to the reality of a wicked fairy who'd just dropped snow down the inside of his shirt.
Luke gave a roar of outrage and Jordan slipped free to run for her life across the snowy yard. “I'll get you! As God is my witness, I'll get you!” He bellowed as he gave chase. He caught her with a flying tackle and wrestled her down.
She just laughed at him, unrepentant.
"You're a criminal,” he accused.
"I'd do it again,” she vowed, looking very pleased with herself.
He nodded, resigned. “Yes, you would.” He sighed. Then he ruthlessly retaliated. Snow went down her thin sweater and more covered her face. He unzipped he
r and filled the jacket with cold wet snow until she shrieked and begged for mercy.
"Stop! Stop, Luke, it's cold!” Jordan gasped and laughed at the sensation of snow melting on her bare skin under her clothes. “Oh, I'm cold."
He smeared another handful over her face. “I don't think you're sorry yet.” He gathered another handful of snow in preparation.
Jordan eyed the snow, then him. “You wouldn't. You beat me. I'm helpless. You wouldn't keep freezing a helpless woman, would you?"
Luke sighed in mock regret and gave her a sorrowful look. “Repent, sinner.” He lifted her sweater and dropped the icy mass onto her bare chest and she wailed in reaction.
"I repent. I do, I really do. Oh, Luke, that's so cold!” She protested and squirmed under him, trying to escape the trap but he wouldn't let up.
"Oh, Jordan. Too late.” His loins burned at the sight of her nipples, puckered with cold and clearly outlined under the thin wet knit.
She saw the line of his gaze and stopped struggling. She caught her breath and waited. He slowly lowered his mouth to hers and she melted into him. She was hot and cold and shivering, all at once. He kissed her in the snow, fire and ice, and Jordan clung to him mindlessly.
She protested when he drew away and reached for him. The regret in his eyes was genuine this time as he shook his head at her. “We're in your brother's yard, Jordan."
She'd forgotten, actually. She'd forgotten where they were. She'd forgotten their bargain. She'd forgotten about everything but Luke and the wild delight of kissing him.
"Oh.” The shock in her voice was audible.
"Yes oh,” Luke teased her gently, coaxing a slight smile in return. “Come on, you'll freeze. I'll take you home and thaw you out before you turn into an icicle."
He scooped her up and brushed the snow from her jacket. When he felt her shivering, he frowned. She really was cold. He unzipped his own coat and spread it wide to wrap her in the edges and grimaced at the cold, wet shock.
Nothing with Jordan went according to his fantasies. Sharing a coat with her in a daydream wouldn't involve dripping, melting snow and blue lips. Luke privately mourned the inadequacies of reality as he tucked her against his heat and went around to the kitchen door for her flowers. He eyed the puddle forming at their feet and knocked.
Teresa opened the door and looked at the two of them, covered in snow. “You're not coming in here,” she said sternly.
Jordan looked up at Luke and grinned. “I think we're in trouble."
Luke nodded. “That seems to happen whenever you're around."
Teresa handed them the flowers and waved them away. “Go get warmed up, you two! Go drip water on your own floors!"
Jordan snuggled into his warmth and tried unsuccessfully to chase away the chill. “I'm going to drip everywhere,” she groaned.
"I'll mop it up,” Luke offered. A warm glint of humor in his eyes made her smile again.
"You should, you're responsible for getting me soaked. And frozen. Now you will have to thaw me or I'll be a Popsicle for sure.” Jordan winked saucily. “You wouldn't want to dance with a Popsicle, would you?"
He swung her in a giddy waltz. “I don't know,” he mused. “I think it's kind of fun. It might grow on me."
She laughed at him and then shivered in earnest. All laughter gone, Luke swept her up and hurried to his car. “Don't worry, I'm an experienced rescuer of damsels in distress. Would you like to see my resume?” he inquired smoothly as he dumped her in and shut the door.
She eyed him in interest as he joined her, started the engine and turned the heater on. “You have a resume as a rescuer? Oh, this I have to see."
He gave her an arch look. “I keep it at home."
She considered that. “You do?"
"Yes,” he assured her warmly. “Right by the indoor hot tub,” he added.
Jordan debated briefly. She'd never been much for resisting temptation. The lure of Luke and his kisses and his searing heat were bad enough. The added persuasion of the promise of a hot tub made an overwhelmingly irresistible combination.
She scooted across the seat to burrow against him. “Sounds like the perfect spot to keep a resume. Rescue me,” she commanded.
He wrapped an arm around her. “I'm thinking of making it my sole professional focus."
That sounded interesting. “You are?"
"Mm-hmm. It looks like a full-time proposition. I've never seen anyone who needed more rescuing than you."
"You can't have it both ways, Luke,” she retorted. “I'm either a threat to the entire planet, or harmless and no threat to anyone. I can't be both."
Luke dropped a kiss on top of her head. “That's what I used to think. Then I met you."
Chapter Nine
It wasn't far from Randall's house to Luke's. Jordan curled on the seat and concentrated on thinking warm thoughts. Hot tubs, for instance. Hot water and hotter kisses. Fire, flames, a conflagration racing through her veins and burning her from the inside out. She was still cold, but it couldn't hurt to pretend.
At that thought, she paused. It couldn't hurt to pretend? She hadn't thought so before. Now ... she wasn't so sure. The problem with creative fiction, Jordan realized, was that it was all too easy to believe. It was so believable, it could almost be real. And it wasn't.
Luke wasn't hers. He was only temporary, and pretending wouldn't change anything. He was a carefree bachelor, sought after and desired by hordes of admiring women. He'd been willing to con his family, a family he loved and respected, as insurance against pressure to marry.
The inescapable truth, Jordan told herself sternly, was that Luke didn't want to marry her. Luke didn't want to get married at all, but probably especially not to her. She was nothing but trouble and he'd even said so.
Great. Now she was cold, wet, and depressed, too. Jordan shivered and tried to curl more of his coat around her.
Luke hugged her in sympathy. “We're almost there, Jordan. You'll be warm in no time. Think about hot water—lots and lots of nice, hot, steamy water."
She had been, and look where it had gotten her—up to her little metaphorical neck in it. She huddled closer and didn't say anything. She didn't even notice the neighborhood until the car stopped, and then the rapidly falling twilight made it difficult to see. Not that she had much time to see anything as Luke, in his enthusiasm to heroically rescue her, carried her to his house and even over the threshold.
More evidence of his incredible niceness. She'd never met a nicer man, and it was absolutely horrible that she couldn't have him.
Determination stirred and she realized how idiotic she was being. So it was temporary. Was she stupid? At least she had him now, and if that was all she'd have, it was all the more reason not to waste a single minute of it.
Wasn't she the bane of his existence? A threat to world peace? A riot looking for a place to happen? The day Jordan Christian went quietly would be the day she went six feet under. She was here and by golly she'd leave her mark on his hot tub. He'd never use it again without thinking of her, Jordan vowed silently.
She pictured Luke in the hot tub in his black hat and felt instantly much warmer. This would be a night to remember, all right. She sincerely hoped the hat was here instead of at Wendy's with the rest of the props for the painting.
While she thought and plotted, she was completely oblivious to anything else. He carried her to a huge master bath and set her down on the tiled floor, closing the door behind them. Then he locked it and leaned against it. “Alone at last,” he teased.
"Are we?"
He took her by the shoulders and drew her close. “Yes, we are. No brothers, no sisters, no in-laws, no small children, no aunts and no uncles. No family of any kind anywhere. Just us.” He slowly trailed blazing kisses across her upturned face, then teased the corner of her mouth before claiming it in a kiss that stole her breath away.
He smiled at her dazed expression. “I can't believe it. You're speechless."
Jordan smiled b
ack at him. “You seem to have that effect on me. Enjoy it while it lasts."
"I intend to.” The lazy drawl accompanied by the warm glint in his eyes promised just that.
Luke turned the hot tub cover back and Jordan saw steam rising from it. “Wow. Quite the bathroom you have here,” she remarked.
It was impressive. Above the sunken wooden hot tub, a skylight offered a tantalizing view of the starlit sky. Beautifully polished wooden decking surrounded the tub. An adjoining room contained dual marble sinks and counters beneath a long beveled mirror; another room housed a standard bathtub with whirlpool jets, and a glassed-in shower stall; all laid out in roomy comfort that made an inviting suite. Tile covered the floor in this room and the other bathing room, with deep plush carpet in the sink area and down the center of the tiled area.
Jordan could happily imagine spending the entire day in there without ever unlocking the door.
"I'm glad you like it,” Luke answered. He began to remove her dripping clothing. The sodden scarf was unwound and dropped, followed by her coat. Jordan tried to step out of her snow boots and was surprised when his grip tightened on her arms, arresting the motion.
"Let me.” The low request sent shivers through her that had nothing to do with cold. Jordan gazed back at him, hypnotized by the sound of his voice and the desire in his eyes. She held still and waited.
He knelt and peeled off her wet socks, then cupped her feet in his hands to chafe and warm them, one at a time. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feeling returning to numb toes.
"You're soaked and frozen,” he informed her.
"I know. The penance for my sins, remember?"
Luke laughed. “I'm not sure whose penance it is now.” He stood and swiftly and impersonally removed her wet jeans, teasing her when they stuck. “Too much fudge, Jordan?"
"There is no such thing,” she informed him loftily.
Leaving her in her wet knit sweater and panties, he removed his own clothes down to cotton jockeys and took her hand. “Come on, let's get you warm."
Jordan readily plunged into the hot water and sank in up to her chin. “Ah-h-h. Warmth. I love it."
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