A Texan for Christmas

by Jules Bennett

  That low, gravelly tone sent shivers throughout her body and she nearly gave in to the temptation to close the two-inch gap and touch that gorgeous chest that beckoned her. But before she could move, he turned away and went back into his bedroom. Scarlett just stood there, stock still, wondering what the hell had just happened. What was he doing and why had she almost let herself get caught up in it? Damn it. That behavior was not at all professional.

  Done berating herself, she took Madelyn to the portable swing in the living area and fastened her in. Once the music and swing were on, Scarlett went back to the kitchen and started dishing up the casserole. There was no way she was knocking on Beau’s door to see if he was coming out to eat. She’d simply make a plate and he could eat when he wanted.

  Scarlett had just poured two glasses of sweet tea when Beau stepped from his room. With his wet hair glistening even darker than she’d seen and a fresh T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, it was all she could do to force her eyes away.

  He eyed the two plates sitting on the island, then he glanced to her. “You don’t have to cook for me.”

  “You’re welcome.” The snarky reply just came out, so she added, “I had to cook for myself anyway. Hope you like cabbage.”

  He didn’t say a word, but came over and sank onto one of the stools on the bar side of the island. As he dug in, she watched for a moment and figured he must not hate it. Part of her was relieved, though she didn’t know why. What did it matter if he liked her cooking? She wasn’t here to impress him with her homey skills.

  Scarlett remained on the kitchen side of the island and started eating. The cabbage, bacon and rice casserole was one of her favorites. It was simple, filling, and rather healthy.

  “You can have a seat,” he told her without looking up from his plate. “I only bite upon request.”

  Why did she have to shiver at that? Just the idea of his mouth on her heated skin was enough to have her keeping this island between them. She may only “know” Beau from what she’d read online over the years, but she knew enough to realize he was a ladies’ man and an endless flirt. And she was just another female in what she was sure was a long line of forgettable ladies.

  So the fact that she lit up on the inside and had those giddy nerves dancing in her belly was absolutely ridiculous. She was leaving soon and he’d go on to more women and probably more children.

  “I’m fine,” she told him. “I’m used to eating standing up anyway.”

  That wasn’t a lie. In fact, when she’d worked in other homes with small children, she’d been happy simply to get her meal hot. Besides, there was no way she’d get close to him. It wasn’t so much him she was afraid of but her growing attraction, and she worried if she didn’t keep some distance...

  Well, she’d keep her distance so they didn’t find out.

  “I can keep an eye on Madelyn this way,” she went on.

  Beau glanced over his shoulder to where his daughter continued to swing. Then he jerked around, his fork clattering to the plate.

  “What the hell is all that?” he barked.

  Scarlett nearly choked on her bite. She took a drink of her sweet tea and cleared her throat. “Christmas decorations. I told you earlier.”

  His dark eyes shifted straight to her. “I know what you said earlier, but I didn’t realize you were taking over the entire cabin. I thought you were putting stuff in your room. Why the hell is it all over my living room?”

  “Because it’s Christmas.”

  Why did he keep asking the most ridiculous questions?

  “I didn’t ask you to do that,” he grumbled.

  “Well, you didn’t ask me to cook for you, either, but you’re clearly enjoying it.”

  He muttered something else before going back to his plate, but she couldn’t make it out. And she didn’t ask him to repeat it. Instead, they finished eating in awkward silence. Only the sound of the nursery rhyme chiming from the swing broke through the space.

  “There’s no reason to get cozy here.”

  His words sliced right through her and she pulled in a deep breath before addressing him.

  Scarlett propped her hands on her hips. “Are you talking to me or yourself?”

  His dark eyes darted to hers once more. “Both.”

  “Well, I don’t know what’s going on in your personal life, but this is Madelyn’s first Christmas. She deserves to have a festive place, whether it’s temporary or not.”

  Madelyn started to fuss and Scarlett ignored her plate and went to the baby.

  “Eat,” Beau stated as he came to stand beside her. “I can give her a bottle and get her ready for bed.”

  Scarlett unfastened Madelyn and turned off the swing. “I’ve got her. You worked all day, so finish your dinner.”

  She didn’t wait for his reply or give him an opportunity to argue. She started to make a bottle, but Beau beat her to it.

  “Lay her in my room.” He kissed Madelyn’s head and glanced up to Scarlett. “I’ll keep her tonight.”

  He stood so close, too close. His arm brushed hers, those eyes held her in place. She’d thought they were dark brown, but now she could see almost golden flecks. They were nearly hypnotic, pulling her in as if in a trance she couldn’t resist.

  But you have to.

  The silent warning broke the spell and she cleared her throat.

  “You’re paying me to watch her,” Scarlett told him, pleased when her voice sounded strong. “If you’re going to the stables early, then you need your rest.”

  She should take a step back, but she didn’t want to. He smelled too good and looked even better.

  “I also said I’m a hands-on dad.” He handed over the bottle. “So leave her in my room after she eats.”

  Scarlett wasn’t going to argue with him. She worked for him and this was his child. If he wanted to be woken up during the night, that was his call.

  She clutched the bottle in one hand and held the baby in the other as she headed toward his room, leaving him in the kitchen to finish his dinner. The second she stepped into his bedroom, a full-on assault hit her senses. If she thought he smelled good a moment ago, that was nothing compared to the masculine, fresh-from-the-shower scent that filled his space.

  The sheets were rumpled and she found herself transfixed by the sight. Just the thought of Beau Elliott in a tangle of dark navy sheets would fuel her nighttime fantasies for years. He was a beautiful man, all sculpted and tan, with just a little roughness about him.

  Was it any wonder Hollywood had pulled him into its grasp and cast him in that first film set in the Wild West? He’d been perfect. Captivating and sexy, riding shirtless on his horse. A handsome cowboy straight from a Texas ranch. He didn’t just play the part; he was the part.

  Scarlett hated to admit how many times she’d watched that exact movie.

  She closed her eyes and willed herself to stop the madness of these mind games. Hadn’t she vowed not to focus on the man and remain dedicated to the child?

  She fed Madelyn and soothed her until she was ready to be laid down. Once she had the baby in her crib, Scarlett turned to leave, but once again her eyes went to that messy king-size bed.

  How many days did she have left?

  Scarlett closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath. She would get through this and keep her lustful desires out of the picture.

  She tiptoed from the room and gently shut the door behind her. When she came back into the open area, she noted the kitchen had been cleaned up and the dishes were all washed.

  She was stunned. Not only at the idea of a celebrity getting dishpan hands, but a billionaire who had employees who likely did everything from his laundry to making his reservations with arm candy dates.

  Scarlett nearly laughed at herself. She wasn’t going to date Beau; she wasn’t even going to be friends with the ma
n. This relationship, if it could be called such, was strictly professional.

  She turned from the kitchen and spotted Beau standing in front of the fireplace. With his back to her, Scarlett had a chance to study him...as if she needed another opportunity or reason to ogle. But that shirt stretched so tightly across his shoulders and that denim hugged his backside in all the perfect places.

  “I used to want this.”

  His low words cut through her thoughts and she realized she’d been caught once again staring. He’d known she was back here.

  Scarlett took a few cautious steps forward and waited for him to continue. Clearly he was working through some thoughts.

  “Christmas as a kid was always a big deal,” he went on as he continued to stare at the stockings. “My mom would bake and I remember coming in from the barns and smelling bread or cookies. There was always something in the oven or on the counter.”

  She continued to listen without interrupting. Whatever he was working through right now had nothing to do with her. But the fact she was getting a glimpse into his personal life only intrigued her more. Scarlett had a feeling not many people saw this side of Beau.

  “Mom would pretend that she didn’t see Colt and me sneak out a dozen cookies before dinner.” He let out a low rumble of laughter. “That poor woman had a time raising four boys and being a loving wife to my dad. She never worried about anything and was so relaxed. I guess she had to be, considering she was in a house full of men.”

  Beau paused for a moment before he went on. “Christmas was her time to shine. She had every inch of that house covered in garland and lights. I always knew when I married and settled down I wanted my house to be all decked out. I wanted my kids to feel like I did.”

  Scarlett’s heart did a flip and she realized she’d closed the distance and stood so close, close enough to reach out and touch him. She fisted her hands at her sides.

  Beau turned to face her. The torment on his face was something she hadn’t seen yet. The man standing before her wasn’t an actor. Wasn’t a billionaire playboy. The man before her was just a guy who felt pain and loss like anyone else.

  “I appreciate what you did here for Madelyn,” he told her.

  Scarlett smiled. “I did it for both of you.”

  His lips thinned and he glanced down as if to compose himself. “You didn’t have to,” he said, his gaze coming back up to hers.

  “I wanted to.”

  Before she thought twice, Scarlett reached out, her hand cupping his cheek. She meant to console, to offer support, but his eyes went from sad to hungry in a second.

  Scarlett started to pull away, but he covered her hand with his and stepped into her. Her breath caught in her throat at the brush of his torso on hers.

  If she thought his stare had been intense before, it was nothing compared to what she saw now. Raw lust and pure desire.

  “Beau.”

  He dipped his head and she knew exactly what was coming. She also knew she should move away and stop this before they crossed a line neither of them could come back from.

  But she couldn’t ignore the way her body tingled at his touch, at the passion in his eyes. She desperately wanted him to put that tempting mouth on hers. She didn’t care if she was just another woman to him. She wasn’t a virgin and she knew exactly what this was and what this wasn’t.

  It was just a kiss, right?

  Beau feathered his lips over hers. The instant jolt of ache and need shot through every part of her body. But then he covered her mouth, coaxing her lips apart as he teased her with his tongue.

  He brought their joined hands between their bodies and the back of his hand brushed her breast.

  She’d been wrong. So, so wrong.

  This was so much more than a kiss.

  Seven

  Beau had lost his damn mind, yet there was no way he could release Scarlett now. He’d wanted to taste her since she showed up at his doorstep looking like some exotic fantasy come to life.

  Alarm bells went off in his head—the ones that usually went off when he was about to make a mistake. He ignored them.

  Scarlett’s curvy body leaned in, her nipple pebbled against the back of his hand. The way she groaned and melted into him had Beau ready to rip off this barrier of clothing and take exactly what they both wanted.

  Beau took his free hand and settled it on the dip in her waist, curling his fingers and pulling her in tighter. She reached up and gripped his biceps as she angled her head just enough to take more of the kiss.

  Kiss. What a simple word for a full-body experience.

  Beau eased his fingertips beneath the hem of her shirt and nearly groaned when he came in contact with silky skin.

  Scarlett tore her lips away and stepped back. Coolness instantly replaced the heat where her body had been. Beau had to force himself to remain still and not reach for her.

  She covered her lips with her shaky hand and closed her eyes. “We can’t do that.”

  “We just did.” Like hell he’d let her regret this. They were adults with basic needs. “Did you not want me to kiss you?”

  She pulled in a breath and squared her shoulders before she pinned him with that stunning stare. “I wanted it. No use in pretending I didn’t, considering I nearly climbed up your body.”

  Beau couldn’t help the twitch of a smile. “Then what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is that I’m your nanny,” she volleyed back. “The problem is I won’t be another woman in your long line of panty-droppers.”

  Panty-droppers? Beau laughed. Full from the belly laughter. Well, at least now he knew exactly what she thought.

  Scarlett narrowed her dark eyes. “I don’t see what’s so funny.”

  “You can’t believe the tabloids,” he told her. Because he really wanted her to understand, he explained further. “I know everyone thinks I’m a major player, but that perception is fueled by the tabloids. They like to come to their own conclusions and then print assumptions. Just because a woman was on my arm or in my car doesn’t mean she was in my bed.”

  “I won’t be in your bed, either.”

  That smart mouth of hers kept him smiling. “Well, no, because Madelyn is in there. We should use your bed.”

  Scarlett let out an unladylike growl and turned away. “We are not discussing this.”

  “What? Sex? Why not?”

  Beau started after her, but stopped when she spun back around. “Other than the obvious reason of me being your daughter’s nanny, and I really hate clichés, I’ll repeat that I won’t be another girl in your bed.”

  Now she was just pissing him off. “You’re really hung up on who’s in my bed.”

  “Or maybe I’m just reminding myself not to get caught up in your charm.” She propped her hands on her hips and tipped her head. “I realize I may be a challenge and you’re not used to people saying no, but we kissed, it’s over. Can we move on?”

  She had to be kidding. That heat wasn’t just one-sided. She’d damn well melted against him. She claimed to always be honest, but she wasn’t just lying to him, she was lying to herself.

  “Move on?” he asked. “Not likely.”

  Her dark eyes flared wide. The pulse at the base of her throat continued to beat faster than normal.

  Yeah, that’s right. He wasn’t one to hide the truth, either. There was no way he could just move on now that he’d tasted her and felt that lithe body against his.

  “I have no interest in a fling or to be bullied by someone just because they have money and power,” she sneered. “I’m going to bed. I’ll keep the monitor on in case you need me.”

  Money and power? What the hell did that have to do with anything? Clearly she had other issues that went well beyond him, this moment and her attraction.

  The second Scarlett turned from him, Beau closed the g
ap between them and curled his arm around her waist, pulling her side against his chest.

  “I never make a woman do anything,” he corrected. Above all, she had to know he wasn’t like that. “We were both very involved in that kiss. If I thought for a second you weren’t attracted to me, I never would’ve touched you, Scarlett.”

  She shivered beneath him when he murmured her name in her ear. His thumb eased beneath the hem of her shirt and slid over that dip in her waist.

  “Tell me who hurt you,” he demanded, his tone firm, yet low.

  He didn’t like the idea of any woman being hurt by a man, but something about Scarlett made him want to protect her, to prevent any more pain in her life.

  Scarlett stiffened and turned those dark eyes up to his. There was a weakness looking back at him that he recognized. He’d seen that underlying emotion every single day in the mirror for the past year. Whatever she was battling, she was desperately trying to hide it. Damn it, he knew how difficult it was to keep everything bottled up with no one to talk to, to lean on.

  Circumstances as of late had led him to that exact vulnerable point in his life.

  Beau hadn’t expected a layer of admiration to join the physical attraction, but slowly his take on Scarlett was evolving into something he couldn’t quite figure out.

  “I won’t be here long enough for my personal life to matter to you,” she whispered.

  “So I can’t care about your feelings while you’re here?”

  Her eyes darted away, looking in the direction of the fireplace. Maybe the holidays were difficult for her, as well. Did she have family? She hadn’t mentioned being with them or buying presents or anything that came with sharing Christmas with someone special.

  Everything in him screamed that he was walking a fine line with her. He had a sinking feeling she was alone or she’d lost someone. Whatever the reason, the holiday was difficult on her.

  Something twitched in his chest, but Beau refused to believe his heart was getting involved here. There was nothing wrong with caring or worrying about someone, even if that person was a virtual stranger. He’d been raised to be compassionate, that’s all. Just because he was concerned didn’t mean he wanted a relationship.