by Robin Wells
Easy, boy. She might look like an angel, but she’d give you pure hell. Hadn’t she already managed to throw him for a loop every time he’d seen her? The last thing he needed was to get involved with a woman who attracted trouble like buggzapper attracted flies.
Matt dropped the wood on the ground beside her and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Did Lauren leave?” he asked.
Ali nodded. “She’s off to the beauty salon to begin her transformation into a bride.” She studied the growing jumble of logs on the ground. “I really appreciate the wood, Matt.”
“No problem. I’ll bring around another couple of loads, then I’ll stack it.”
“I can handle the stacking.”
“No need. Why don’t you stay inside where it’s warm and let me take care of it?”
“Because I’d rather stack wood.” Her tone was insistent, almost combative. She knelt and began arranging logs on the woodpile.
Matt shrugged. If she really wanted to work out here in the freezing cold, he wouldn’t try to stop her. “Suit yourself. I’ll go get another load.”
Matt puzzled over Ali’s attitude as he headed for the company pickup. He had the distinct impression he’d somehow offended her. He couldn’t imagine why she’d be mad about a delivery of firewood. She must still be upset over the way he’d told her there was no place for her at the construction company.
He had to admit he hadn’t been exactly tactful, Matt thought, rubbing his jaw ruefully. The truth was, he’d felt darn guilty over how he’d handled it; after all, she was Robert’s sister, and he should have let her down a little easier. He’d dropped by with the wood this morning as a peace offering.
“Women!” Matt muttered, climbing into the bed of his truck and pushing some logs toward the tailgate. He’d never been very good at figuring them out. His ex-wife was proof enough of that. It had taken nearly a year of marriage before he’d realized her love of money far exceeded any love she claimed to have for him—and he’d only figured that out when she left him for a wealthy oilman thirty years his senior.
The entire marriage had been a disaster from the word go, and he had no intention of making a mistake like that again. No, sirree; matrimony might be fine for some men—Justin, for example—but it wasn’t for him. Never again would he let his emotions overrule his good judgment.
Emotional involvement complicated life too much. He liked to be able to plan things out and have things go according to plan, and he’d never met a woman yet who couldn’t throw a kink into even the most thoroughly thought-out project.
He swung down from the truck and began loading his arms with logs. Ali was a prime example, he thought with a shake of his head. Every time he’d seen her, something bizarre had happened. Just thinking about her had a way of confusing him—and he’d found himself thinking about her far too often.
Well, he probably wouldn’t have to deal with her much longer. Most likely she’d get bored with smaíl town life in a few weeks and move back to Dallas. In the meantime, he’d do what he could to keep an eye on her and to reassure her the company was running smoothly.
Balancing a stack of logs so tall he had to crane his neck to see around it, Matt headed for the woodpile. The sight that greeted him as he rounded the corner stopped him dead in his tracks, causing him to nearly drop his load. Holy pajamas! Ali was leaning forward, her trim, shapely backside pointed pertly in the air, her jeans hugging every luscious curve. Matt swallowed hard.
Oblivious of the heavy load in his arms, Matt stood stock-still and watched her place another log on the pile, all of his earlier resolve concerning her forgotten. Her short jacket and sweater rode up to reveal a span of smooth skin and a peek of lace panties.She was enough to make a bulldog pop his chain.
Matt was so engrossed by the sight of her that when she suddenly stood up and stepped back, it took him by surprise. She bumped into him, knocking him off balance.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were there!” she cried.
Matt struggled to retain his footing, but with the load of wood weighing down his arms, he couldn’t regain his equilibrium. He tottered for an instant. Ali grabbed his arm, which threw him further off balance, and Matt tumbled to the ground in a jumble of logs.
“Matt! Are you all right?” He opened his eyes to find Ali leaning over him, her hair brushing his face. This was getting to be a habit.
“Owww,” he responded. He reached a tentative hand for his head. When he withdrew it, his fingers were warm and sticky.
Ali hovered over him, her gray eyes wide and worried. “You’re bleeding.” She reached out and gently touched his hair. “Come inside and let me look at your head. We might need to get you to a doctor.”
She helped him to his feet, then wrapped her slender arm around his waist. Matt reflexively draped an arm around her shoulder.
He felt light-headed all right, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t due to the spill. Ali smelled delicious—like fresh flowers and herbal shampoo. Just for the moment, he decided not to fight the surge of pleasure coursing through him. He tilted his face slightly toward her neck to get a better whiff of her scent as he let her lead him into the house and down the hall to the bathroom.
“Sit down,” she instructed, motioning to the side of the tub. He complied, noting it was the oversize Jacuzzi whirlpool tub. Robert had insisted that the spa bath would add to the house’s resale value if he ever decided to sell. Sitting here watching Ali rummage through a drawer, Matt could think of an immensely more pleasurable and less practical use for the black marble beast.
“Here it is,” she said, bending forward and reminding him of precisely what had caused the accident in the first place. She pulled out a bag of cotton balls and a bottle of antiseptic, then stepped close beside him. “Now, let me take a look at that cut.”
Her breasts were at eye level, and the temperature in the room suddenly seemed to soar. Not knowing where to look, he closed his eyes as she touched his hair.
“Ouch!” he winced.
“Sorry.” Her voice was soft, and she stroked his head apologetically, sending a tingle down his spine. “It doesn’t look too bad—it’s just a little cut. I think it’s already stopped bleeding. Let me clean it up a bit.”
Matt watched her pour something onto a cottonball and turn back toward him. “This will probably hurt a little,” she warned.
She pulled his head against her breast, holding his face with one hand while she dabbed at the cut with the other. The pleasure of it far outweighed the slight discomfort. He sat perfectly still, barely daring to breathe, reveling in the feel of her cool palm on one cheek and her warm, firm breast on the other. He could hear her heart beat through the soft fabric of her sweater. He was fighting a powerful urge to reach out and pull her onto his lap, where a much stronger pain was developing.
Ali released his head and stepped back. “There. How does that feel?”
Terrible. We should go lie down until it goes away, he thought wildly.
“Fine,” he said. Even to his ears, his voice sounded unusually husky. He made an effort to clear his throat and ended up coughing.
Ali eyed him with concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe we should get your head X-rayed.”
We should definitely get it examined. What was he doing, thinking things like this about Robert’s little sister? He must have knocked all the sense out his head with that fall.
Matt hauled himself to his feet. He needed to get out of here. Fast.
“Tm fine,” he repeated. “Thanks for the first aid. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d better be going.”
Ali watched him stride from the bathroom. Only when she heard the back door close did she draw a deep breath.
She placed a hand protectively on her chest, precisely at the spot where his head had nestled against her. She could still feel the warmth of it imprinted on her breast. Something about touching him had rattled her down to her toenails. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure Matt must have heard it. At
the same time, she was filled with an unaccustomed languor that made her feel like she was moving in slow motion.
Ali opened the drawer and began putting away the medical supplies. Lauren’s none-too-subtle suggestions about Matt had made her jumpy around him, that was all, she decided. It hadn’t helped that the bathroom was unabashedly sensuous.
Well, she needed to get a grip on her emotions if she were going to work around Matt, she told herself sternly. Maybe increased exposure to him would make her immune to him. After all, what was that old saying? Familiarity breeds contempt.
So far, all familiarity seemed to be breeding was spontaneous combustion.
Giving herself a mental shake, Ali left the room, firmly closing the door behind her. If only she could close the door on her thoughts about Matt as easily!
Chapter Five
If the parking lot was any indication, the wedding reception was already in full swing by the time Matt arrived at the Hillsboro Country Club. Good, he thought. He’d deliberately dawdled after the ceremony, not wanting to be among the first to arrive. He hated making small talk; by arriving late, maybe he could put in an appearance, congratulate Justin, and leave with a minimal amount of schmoozing. He was surprised to find a parking space right by the front door and maneuvered his Toyota Camry into it, hoping it was an omen that he could get in and out of the reception quickly.
Walking into the ballroom, Matt accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and leaned against the wall. He watched the dancers glide around the floor to a Harry Connick, Jr. ballad and looked around for the bride and groom. Justin and Lauren were swaying together in the corner. They appeared too wrapped up in each other to know who was or wasn’t there. He might get out of here even sooner than he’d thought.
Which would definitely be a relief, Matt thought, running a finger under his collar and swallowing some champagne.
This whole setup made him uneasy. It reminded him too much of his own wedding seven years ago.
Just thinking about it made him scowl. He’d only been a few years out of college, too young to know the difference between lust and love, and smitten with Elise’s cool, polished exterior. At the time, he’d mistaken her detached demeanor for serenity, her aloofness for poise, her expensive tastes for class. He’d thought she was the calm, collected type who shared his desire for a well-ordered life, and when she’d hinted at marriage, he’d taken the bait. Boy, had that been a mistake! Turned out all she wanted was money—and when he didn’t earn it fast enough to suit her, she’d found someone whose bank account was more to her liking.
Well, she’d done him the biggest favor of his life by leaving. He only wished he’d had sense enough not to get involved with her in the first place. But he’d learned his lesson, and it was a mistake he intended not to repeat. No, indeed; never again would he fall into the marriage trap. Better to fly solo than to get his life all entangled with someone else’s.
Thinking of entanglements brought Ali to mind. Matt took another sip of champagne and realized he’d unconsciously been scanning the room for her ever since he’d entered it. Regardless of what he might think of her, he had to admit that she’d looked ravishing tonight. He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her during the ceremony—and who could blame him? That dress accented all the right spots, and her spots were definitely all right. Probably every man in the place had made the same observation.
The thought made him clench his jaw. Where the heck was she? Matt set his half-full glass of champagne on a table and headed to the far side of the ballroom.
He was only halfway across the room when he spotted her in the foyer, flanked by her fellow bridesmaids. All three girls were wearing identical pink dresses, but only Ali managed to make it look provocative.
As he’d figured, he hadn’t been the only man to notice. Derrick Atchison and the other two male attendants were hovering around her as if she were a queen bee and they were her drones.
Matt tightened his jaw and began working his way through the crowd toward her. He lost sight of her for a moment, and when he spotted her again, he stopped dead in his tracks.
“Damn,” he muttered, watching Derrick lead her by the hand to the dance floor. Matt was suddenly aware that the music had shifted to a sultry love song. He felt his chest constrict as Derrick placed his hand on her waist and pulled her close—far closer, Matt was certain, than was necessary.
Matt did a slow burn, his body tensing all over. Why was she even bothering to give the jerk the time of day? From their conversation earlier in the week, he knew she was aware of the creep’s reputation. He had half a mind to cut in on the cozy couple.
Hey, slow down, the other half of his mind warned him. She’s not marrying the guy—she’s just dancing with him. What’s it to you?
Matt watched Derrick lean down and whisper something in her ear. As they turned to the music, he caught a glimpse of Ali’s face as she looked up and laughed. You’d think the bum was a world-class comedian, the way she was carrying on.
“Are you having fun?” asked a familiar voice.
Matt turned to see the newlywed couple. “Lauren— you make a beautiful bride.” Smiling, Matt kissed her proffered cheek, then shook Justin’s hand and forced himself to exchange pleasantries, resisting the urge to turn around and keep an eye on the dance floor. He was relieved when the band struck up another tune and the couple excused themselves to head to the dance floor. When he turned around, Ali and Derrick had vanished.
Matt edged his way to the foyer, where two bridesmaids were huddled in a conversation. They glanced up to give him coy smiles. Matt nodded abruptly and kept on moving, intent on avoiding being corralled into a conversation.
He re-entered the ballroom and worked his way around its perimeter, scanning the crowd. There was no sign of Ali or Derrick. An unaccustomed anxiety gripped him. Where the devil were they?
Matt was on his third lap around the room when he finally spotted Ali in the foyer. Thank goodness she was alone—but why was her face so flushed and pink? His suspicions made him clench his fists as he strode toward her.
“Matt! I’m glad you came.” Ali smiled and started toward him, holding out both her hands.
Matt took them in his. Her fingers were like ice. “You’re freezing,” he observed.
“I was just outside with Derrick.”
“I thought I told you to stay away from that worthless piece of trash,” Matt said harshly, dropping her fingers.
The moment the words were uttered, he knew he’d overstepped his bounds. But it was too late; the statement lay between them like a gauntlet.
She arched her eyebrows. “And I thought I told you I don’t need another big brother.”
Matt couldn’t suppress a scowl. “Looks to me like you do.”
Ali’s eyes flashed with indignation. “You have no right to tell me what to do.”
Back off, Jordan. She’s right. Matt drew a deep breath and struggled to regain his composure. He didn’t want this to escalate into a scene. “Maybe not,” he said, controlling his tone with an effort, “but I’d hate to see Robert’s little sister get mixed up with a lowlife like that.”
Ali placed her hands on her hips and fixed him with an exasperated glare. “I have half a mind to leave you to your sordid delusions,” she said stiffly, “but the fact of the matter is that Derrick and the other groomsmen are decorating Justin’s car. I went to show them where it was parked. Someone had already pulled it around front, so I came back in.”
“Oh.” Matt’s immediate sense of relief was extinguished by the realization he’d just made a fool of himself for no reason. He seemed to have developed a habit of doing that every time he got anywhere near Ali, he realized with chagrin.
She was gazing up at him, her gray eyes bright and questioning. “What’s going on here?”
Matt stared down at her. I only wish I knew, he thought.
“Come on, Matt,” she prodded. “What’s the story behind your obsession with Derrick?”
Matt shoved his hands into his pockets and shifted his stance. “I’ve already explained his reputation to you.”
“I think there’s something more personal to it.” She eyed him challengingly for a moment. Matt’s thoughts flipped back to the highly personal feelings he’d experienced in her bathroom that afternoon and he swallowed hard. He couldn’t think of a coherent rebuttal to save his life.
But Ali was looking at him expectantly, waiting for a response. He cleared his throat and motioned to an upholstered bench along the foyer wall. She sat down and he lowered himself beside her.
“About a year ago, I ran into him at the Dew Drop Inn,” Matt began.
“That the dive out on the highway?”
Matt nodded. “We’d just finished the framework on a custom home we were building for a rancher, and I wanted to treat the carpentry crew to a round of burgers and beers. It was the only place near the job site.” Matt tried to find a more comfortable position on the narrow seat and ended up angling his knees toward her. “Derrick was playing pool with a bunch of oilfield roughnecks, and he was losing. He had a woman with him who was obviously crazy about him. And he, uh…” Matt found it difficult to continue.
“What?” Ali was staring at him in open curiosity. Matt hesitated, and she tugged on his arm. “What did he do, Matt? You can’t start a story like this and then leave me hanging. It’s not polite.”
“Well, neither is the story.” Matt gazed at the carpet. “Derrick offered her, um, services as ante in the game. He used very graphic terms—gave a personal endorsement. She left the bar in tears. I haven’t been able to look at the man without wanting to deck him ever since.” No point in telling her that’s what he tried to do at the time—and would have, too, if his work crew hadn’t restrained him.
Ali’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, Matt. That’s horrible.”
“Yeah. It was.” Matt looked at Ali. “So now you know. I just can’t stomach the guy.”
“Did you know the girl?”
“No,” Matt said, “but it wouldn’t have made any difference. No one deserves to be demeaned like that.”