Slow Hand

by Victoria Vane

  “Be my guest, though I warn you there aren’t many choices.”

  Intent on replacing the tension that permeated the air with music, Nikki reached for the radio dial. It was then she noticed the lack of an audio jack or even a CD player. “How old is this truck anyway?”

  “I’d guess it’s about a 1980 vintage, which makes it about as old as me,” he said.

  “Really?” She laughed nervously. “I don’t think I’ve ever ridden in a vehicle that was older than I am.”

  “And how old is that,” he asked.

  “Twenty-eight last month,” she said.

  “You seeing anyone?” he asked.

  The question, posed out of the blue, took her by surprise. “Not presently. It’s been a good six months since I’ve dated anyone seriously.” She turned the dial, flipping absently through static-filled stations. Finally hitting a station with a decent signal, Nikki quit fumbling with the radio. The upbeat tempo of Rascal Flatts’s “Life is a Highway” filled the air. Country. Argh. She hated country. The music was a reminder of all too many mistakes she’d made.

  “I’m guessing it was a bad breakup?” he said.

  “Yeah.” She gave a dry laugh. “You might say that. Why do you ask?”

  “I’m just wondering why you seem so gun-shy.”

  “I have a number of good reasons to be—most of them with first and last names.”

  “We’re not all assholes, you know, so you shouldn’t hold it against every man you meet. You can trust me when I say I’m here to help you, not to hurt you.”

  “Why?” she asked. “Why have you gone out of your way for me like this?”

  He grinned. “Technically speaking it isn’t that far out of my way.”

  “I’m not talking about the drive. I mean the airport, picking me up, feeding me, and giving me a place to stay.”

  “Maybe because it’s the right thing to do…or maybe it’s because I like you.”

  “Like me? You don’t even know me,” she insisted.

  “I know enough”—he shrugged—“and I like what I see.”

  Ditto, cowboy. She’d been taking a subconscious inventory of him from the moment she’d met him and was hard pressed to find anything not to like. On top of all that, one kiss had scattered her wits to the four winds. Her attraction to Wade was growing worse by the hour. Some way, somehow, she needed to get away from him. Nikki closed her eyes, drifting off on those dangerous thoughts.

  “Here it is,” Wade announced. “Don’t blink or you’ll miss it all.”

  Nikki opened her eyes to find they’d arrived in Virginia City. She almost gaped when they drove down the center of town. Lined with false front buildings with clapboard siding, it looked like the set of Gunsmoke. “This is it? There isn’t even a traffic light.”

  “Nope.” He chuckled. “The onetime capital of the Territory of Montana, and now the seat of Madison County, has fewer than two hundred full-time residents.”

  “It’s surreal. I’m half expecting to see horses and stagecoaches…and a saloon.”

  “All that happens in the height of summer when the town becomes a living museum. If you’re looking for the saloon, the Pioneer’s right over there.” He jerked a thumb to indicate a building beside the old Opera House. “This community thrives on the tourist trade now. The rest of the time it’s still pretty much a ghost town. I only come here when business requires, generally no more than once a week, sometimes less. Hard to believe this was once a thriving metropolis.”

  “What happened? Was there some kind of disaster?”

  “You might say that. It was all built up around a single gold strike, the biggest one ever recorded in the Rockies. Within a week of the discovery, hundreds of prospectors and nine mining camps cropped up along the fourteen-mile stretch of Alder Creek. The first real settlement was built up here at the midpoint of the Alder Gulch. The town grew to ten thousand within months, but when the gold dried up so did the local economy.”

  “Why is it named Virginia City? It’s nowhere near Virginia.”

  “The original name proposed for the new town was ‘Varina,’ after the wife of Confederate President Jefferson Davis, but the territory’s judge was a staunch Unionist and refused to approve a charter with her name. He crossed it out and wrote in ‘Virginia’ instead.”

  “Wow. I had no idea of the Old West history here.”

  “There’s tons of it. We even have a boot hill. If that kinda thing interests you, I’d be happy to give you the ten-cent tour later.”

  “Yeah.” She smiled. “I think I’d like that.”

  He parked the truck on the street, hopped out, and came around to offer his hand to help her step down from the truck. For a moment she hesitated. She couldn’t recall the last man who’d opened a door or helped her with anything. Even in the South, chivalry seemed a rare commodity these days. She found his old-fashioned manners flattering, although peculiar.

  “My office is right here.” He inclined his head to the false front building. “It was once Miss Ruby’s boardinghouse.”

  “Boardinghouse or bordello?” she asked.

  “Probably one and the same.” He grinned. “Half the reason I signed the lease was that I liked the irony of practicing law in a former bawdy house.”

  She stepped up onto the ancient-looking wooden boardwalk and gazed down the neat row of authentic nineteenth-century buildings lining both sides of the street. He opened the door with Evans & Knowlton, Attorneys at Law etched on the glass, and gestured for Nikki to precede him inside.

  “Mornin’, Iris,” he greeted a plump middle-aged woman. “This is Miz Powell. She’s up from Atlanta and will be using the office to take care of some personal business. Please allow her free rein to the computer, fax, et cetera…”

  “Sure thing, Wade.” Iris smiled at Nikki. “Nice to meet you, Miss Powell.”

  Nikki extended her hand with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry to impose on you like this. I’ll try not to get in your way any more than necessary.”

  “Get in the way? A little bitty thing like you?” Iris waved her hand with a chuckle. She then gave Wade an assessing once over, her brows meeting in a frown. “You look like you could use some coffee.”

  “That rough, eh?” He rubbed his bristled jaw. It was a particularly nice jaw, strong and square with the sexiest dimple in the middle of his chin. Why did he have to have that? She was such a sucker for dimples. Nikki wondered what the ones above his ass looked like. She’d noticed that part of him too but acting on her physical attraction to him could only lead to trouble.

  What was wrong with her? One moment he was aggravating as hell and the next she was checking out his ass? Her intense reactions to him bewildered and annoyed her. She’d been around a number of hot cowboys before—more than she cared to remember and certainly none worth wasting brain cells thinking about. What made this one any different? He’s your lawyer, nothing else, she reminded herself.

  “Now, I didn’t actually say that,” Iris replied. “I’d be happy to run down to the café while you get cleaned up. The usual?” she asked.

  “Just coffee,” Wade replied.

  “Anything for you, Miss Powell? Coffee?”

  “Yes. Please,” Nikki answered. “I could use the pick-me-up. It was a long night and will surely be a full day.”

  “How do you take it?”

  “Extra cream, no sugar. Thank you.”

  Wade hung up his hat, and then came behind the desk to glance over Iris’s shoulder. “What’s on the docket this week?”

  “Not much. Just more disputes over grazing rights.”

  “Grazing rights again! I’m damned sick of environmentalists and special interest groups sticking their noses into our business. Give ’em an inch and they’ll take it all, not giving a damn that the majority of people here are just trying to eke out modes
t livings.” Wade raked his hand through his sandy hair with a curse. “Damned vegan tree-huggers will destroy our entire state economy.”

  Iris rolled her eyes as if anticipating a full-blown tirade. “Be back in a jiffy.” She winked at Nikki as she slipped out the door.

  Nikki grinned. “I take it you’re not a card-carrying member of the Green Party?”

  “No.” His gaze narrowed and brows pulled into a frown. “You’re not one of them I hope.”

  “Who me?” Nikki shook her head. “No, sir-ee, I’m a live-and-let-live Libertarian and a longtime omnivore. My grandparents had a chicken farm in Lavonia. I betcha didn’t know Georgia is the country’s biggest chicken producer.”

  “No, ma’am.” His shoulders visibly relaxed. “I didn’t, but then I’m not a big chicken fan myself.”

  She let her gaze travel over him in a slow appreciation of his tall, lean, muscular frame. She guessed he stood at least six-three in his boots. “I suppose not,” she said. “It would be only prime grass-fed beef and Idaho potatoes for you.”

  He crossed his arms over his broad chest and leaned on the door frame studying her. “Miz Powell, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were undressing me with those pretty blue-green eyes of yours.”

  A guilty flush infused her face but she refused to give him the advantage. She opted for a strong offense instead. “So what if I was? Weren’t you quite fixated on my ass at Denver airport?”

  He raised a sandy eyebrow. “You noticed that, eh?” His confession came with a shameless grin attached.

  She jutted her chin. “Quid pro quo, Counselor. What do you say to that?”

  He approached her slowly, the smile in his eyes transforming in a blink to a wicked gleam. A gleam that promised very bad things. His reply sent a warning signal to every nerve in her body. “I’d say, why just use your eyes?”

  Dear God, he was trouble with a capital T.

  He closed the space between them in two long strides. Instinctively, Nikki backed up as many steps—but her ass hit the desk. Before she realized what he was about, he’d caught her hips and lifted her onto it. He held her hostage with his gazed locked on hers, his arms braced on either side of hips. “There’s something real interesting going on here,” he remarked at length.

  Nikki swallowed hard, her gaze wavering. “I already told you I’m not interested. I don’t do casual hookups.”

  “You think that’s what this is about?”

  “Isn’t it?” she asked, intentionally blithe.

  He shook his head. “Hell, I don’t know. Maybe. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a damn powerful attraction to you.”

  She’d never had such a strong reaction to another man either. All he had to do was look at her to get her pulse racing and her insides quivering. And right now he was too damned close for comfort. She shifted backward, trying to create some distance, but there was nowhere to go.

  “Don’t you have to be in court soon, Counselor?” she reminded him in a voice that came out breathless.

  “Yeah, I do,” he replied. “Guess I got a bit sidetracked. You’re turning out to be a big distraction, you know that?”

  She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such an imposition.”

  “I said a distraction not an imposition. There’s a big difference. I didn’t realize until now just how badly I’ve needed such a distraction.” He stepped away with a reluctant sigh.

  Her pulse still hammering in anticipation, Nikki exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized was trapped in her chest.

  Wade spun toward his office. “Help yourself to the phone and anything else while I get cleaned up.” He paused again on the threshold. “Of course, you’re welcome to use my office if you need greater privacy,” he added over his shoulder with a look of devilment. “Or in the event any wild impulse overtakes you while I shower.”

  He went to work on his shirt buttons. His collar was soon wide open revealing a generous show of muscular chest that make her hands itch to rip it off him. She diverted her gaze and curled her itchy hands by her sides.

  “Have no fear, cowboy,” Nikki replied in a tone meant to disguise the warm flush that had come over her. “I corralled all my wild impulses long ago.”

  “Did you, now?” He still stood in doorway, head cocked. “Somehow, I think you may have missed a few strays.”

  “Maybe I need to make myself clearer. I have an aversion to cocky cowboys.”

  Just keep telling yourself that, Nikki. Maybe if you repeat it often enough it’ll become true.

  “Is that so?” His brows flew upward. “I can’t say I ever met a woman with an actual aversion to me.”

  “Don’t take it personally. It’s nothing against you in particular, but to your type.”

  “And what do you think you know about my type?”

  “Since I don’t have a pole handy, enough to keep you at arm’s length. Besides that, this whole line of conversation is entirely inappropriate in light of professional ethics, don’t you think? You are my attorney, after all.”

  “Well, darlin’”—he scratched his unshaven jaw—“there’s a little hitch to that.”

  “What do you mean? You said you’d help me.”

  “And I will, but you can’t engage my professional services until I know who you are.”

  “I’ve told you who I am!” she insisted.

  “Sweetheart, I’m a lawyer, and according to the law, your claim don’t weigh without authentication.”

  “Authentication?”

  “Proof.”

  “So what are you saying? That you don’t believe me?”

  “I’m not saying that at all. Only that our professional relationship will commence once you get your ID. In the interim”—his gaze slid over her in a way that threatened to melt her insides—“you’d best find yourself a nice, long, sturdy pole.”

  * * *

  Nikki opened her mouth, but Iris’s return with the coffee meant he’d got the last word once again. Wade closed the door with a chuckle, and then shrugged out of his clothes. He didn’t know what had come over him to goad her like he had. She was prickly as a porcupine but it was also clearly a shell of self-defense. He’d already seen hints of humor and glimmers of smiles that she fought to suppress, all of which only increased her appeal. He wanted nothing more than to see her let it all loose and laugh.

  It was probably just the novelty of the chase, of having to work for it for a change—something he’d rarely had to do where women were concerned, but that wasn’t all. There was something different about her. Something that drew him to her at a visceral level. Maybe the whole damsel-in-distress thing had brought out dormant protective instincts, but then again, protecting her wasn’t exactly first on his mind—not unless it involved getting real up close and personal.

  He hadn’t intended to kiss her in the truck, and knew he shouldn’t have, but the impulse was too strong to deny. A moment ago he hadn’t really planned for anything to happen either. He’d only meant to yank her chain—until he’d registered that unmistakable flash of desire in her pretty eyes. It had invoked another powerful urge but it wasn’t the time or place to act on it. Had they been anywhere else he might have been tempted to test her resistance.

  He looked forward to another chance to do just that. If she looked at him the way she’d been looking a moment ago, all bets were off. She could deny the attraction until the cows came home, but he’d felt it pass between them—like lightning to lodestone. Just like that moment in the truck when he’d opened the glove box. The knowledge that he’d made her nipples harden had nearly the same effect on his dick. Hot damn! But it had struck him hard.

  He’d only known her a short time, but the lust smoldering between them seemed to be increasing by the hour. At this rate it wouldn’t take much for it to combust into an inferno. He’d felt it almost from t
he first moment they’d spoken—and she had too, though he suspected she’d choke before admitting it.

  On top of the physical attraction, he was also enjoying the hell out of their verbal sparring. Given his obvious advantage of arguing for his bread, she’d done a damned good job of holding her own. All in all, they were well-matched, which only begged the question of how well they might suit in other ways—something he was mighty inspired to discover.

  Hell, yeah. He looked down as he soaped himself. He was damned inspired.

  Chapter 4

  Having made her reports to both the airline and the police, Nikki phoned the Georgia Department of Driver Services, but hung up in frustration after holding for more than twenty minutes. “Is there a computer I could use?” she asked Iris. “The recording said most services are available online. Maybe I can request a duplicate license that way.”

  “Be my guest.” The older woman smiled and vacated her seat. “I have some filing to do anyway.”

  “Thanks.”

  Only a moment later Nikki cried out with increasing aggravation, “Damn it! I can’t believe this! I feel like a dog chasing its tail! The website says I can only request a duplicate license with a credit card, and I’ve already canceled my credit cards!”

  “Is there anyone you can call?” Iris asked. “Do you have a family member who might allow you to use their card?”

  “My mom and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms and my half sister doesn’t have a credit card. Too irresponsible.” Nikki shook her head on a sigh of frustration and despair. “What am I going to do?”

  “Don’t fret, sweetie.” She patted Nikki’s hand. “Wade’ll help you get it all sorted out. It’s what he does.”

  “Professionally you mean?”

  “Yes, but more than that,” Iris said. “He carries a great deal on those broad shoulders.”

  “How so?”

  “He’s the only thing that’s kept his family’s ranch afloat these past three years. Under those good looks is also a real good man—a man who should settle down, if you ask me, but he’s burning himself out working all the time like he is. Trying to make up for lost time I s’pose, but I still hate to see it.”