“Great guy?” He supplied.
“Not the adjective I was going for.”
“Sexy stud?”
“Hmm…”
“Your words may try to say you don’t want my touch, but your moans and sighs said otherwise.”
“I didn’t know it was you.”
“No?”
How had he moved so fast? She hadn’t noticed that he was getting closer. Or had she? When had she risen to her feet?
“Are you ready for part three?”
She gulped and swallowed the ball of emotion rolling up her esophagus. It was so easy to stay angry and frustrated with him when he was over there. But when he was within easy reach? When he could flick the towel off her and make good use of those hands to massage the rest of her body?
A goner. That’s what she was.
“Come with me.”
He reached his hand out, and he looked every bit the gentleman.
She slipped one hand into his, carefully holding the towel.
What was wrong with her?
He hypnotized her.
She let him.
His eyelashes swept over his eyes as he gazed up and down her body, slow and sincere.
A flush spread over her tanned-from-working-outside-on-her-new-property flesh.
The urge to drop the towel and jump into his fully clothed arms was overwhelming.
She could almost feel the cotton of his shirt against her bare skin.
His limp was less pronounced as he brought her down a narrow corridor. He opened a door, and a rush of floral fragrance made her sigh. He pulled her in, and her mouth dropped open.
“A bubble bath?”
“For you.”
She hadn’t had a bath since she was a kid. She had to admit that the bubbles gushing up over the rim looked like little puffs of heaven.
“I can’t.”
He turned toward her. “Why not?”
“You know why not.”
He shrugged. “Nope. Can’t think of a single reason.”
His rough voice sang a song of intimacy—one she wanted to listen to over and over again until she memorized the lyrics.
“I’m naked.” She couldn’t look at him when she said the word. Naked. Why did it feel so forbidden? She had been naked around men before. She had been married, for crying out loud.
“I’m aware.”
Something about being around him made her feel like a virgin again. A nervous, shy, crazed virgin.
She had barely felt like a virgin when she was one.
He moved a little closer, and she nearly dropped her towel. She willed her hands to stop trembling, but they were dancing to the rapid beat of her nervous heart.
“Aware?” She gulped, licking her dry lips.
“I’m aware that you’re naked.”
His hands fled to her hips before she could tell him no. His forehead rested on hers before she could come up with a response. His lips hovered over hers before she could run and hide.
Why would she want to run and hide?
Nothing in her life had ever felt so incredibly right.
“Come to the tub.”
“I can’t take a bath with you. We haven’t even—”
“Not with me, boss. I’m only here to serve you.”
Did she just orgasm? The man knew exactly what to say.
“Besides, I’ve already seen you naked.”
Something about his playful sexy tone made her laugh. And want to bite his luscious lower lip. He was right—she had dropped her towel when she discovered that he was her magical masseuse.
“The lady giggles. Didn’t expect that.”
“I most certainly did not giggle.”
“Did too. It’s permanently recorded in my brain—you can’t confiscate the memory.”
She giggled again, then raised a hand to cover her mouth. The towel slipped in her haste.
“Stop looking,” she groaned as his eyes moved south and his hands tightened on her waist. She quickly yanked the towel back in place.
“But I like the view.”
She raised her face again, never wanting anything in her life as badly as she wanted him to kiss her. To touch her. To fill her.
“Tub time.”
She let him lead her there.
She, the woman who had run boardrooms full of men. She, the woman who graduated first in her class. She, the woman who was feared by most leaders in her microcosmic business world.
She allowed a man—this man—to lead her around.
“Turn around,” she ordered.
Rogan did as told, allowing her some semblance of modesty.
She slipped into the warm, bubbly, gloriously fragrant claw foot tub.
She leaned her head back against the folded towel Rogan had neatly stacked there. She sighed at the intense pleasure of the water lapping gently over her.
“You like?” Rogan knelt beside the tub.
“Me like.” Reed smiled, lifting her arms to the sides of the tub and closing her eyes tight.
“While you relax, I’ll read you a little passage from the book we picked out today.”
“The book you picked out.” Reed clarified. “I don’t read those things.”
“The old you didn’t, but the new you?”
“Okay, okay. I’m game.” She’d be game to almost anything at that moment.
Rogan lit a candle.
Had she really thought he was an ignorant, possibly illiterate, brute?
“Since we don’t have all weekend to read, as you pointed out, I’ll skip ahead to some passages I think you’ll find intriguing.”
All weekend. Maybe she should reconsider her earlier position on the matter.
The man knew how to plan a date!
Probably highly inappropriate, and if she were a stronger woman, maybe she would have smacked him for his plans, but around him, she melted into a puddle of I’ll-do-whatever-you-say.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Mmhmm.”
He began to read, and she was quickly swept away by his expressive reading voice.
“‘My wife is a wild woman.” He tugged at the sleeves of his shirt and threw it across the room. The white cuffs and gold cuff links remained on his wrists.
“He scooped Cassidy up in his arms and took the stairs two at a time. He didn’t stop moving until they had entered the master bedroom. With the door firmly closed behind him, he allowed her body to slowly slide down his front. Her arms were still wrapped around his neck, her lips playing with the pulse thrumming through his throat.”
Blood rushed through all of Reed’s most pleasant places. Everything Rogan read from the book, Reed imagined happening between the two of them.
Rogan’s hand cupped the top of hers as he continued to read, his voice growing huskier with each word.
“He had to slow down. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. Big mistake. He could smell her. Not just the light flowery scent from her shampoo, but her. Her inner essence. He did not think it was possible, but he instantly became harder. And still the blood went zinging through his body, making him more aware of her than he had ever been of anyone before.”
Reed’s eyes flew open at the sound of the book hitting the floor.
Rogan leaned forward and captured her lips in a kiss so intense, she thought she’d never catch her breath.
Her wet arms flew to his neck, pulling him closer, deeper. She wanted him. Now.
Who the hell cared that she barely knew him?
She had never wanted anyone this badly. Never. Like the hero in the story he had been reading, she knew she was more aware of him than of anyone else. Ever.
She had always thought her passion was for the boardroom.
He was proving her wrong.
His tongue probed and deepened, demanding answers to his unasked questions.
She was ready to climb out of the tub, but he pulled away.
“I’m sorry.” He sounded like he was choking.
�
�Don’t be sorry.” That was the last thing she wanted him to feel.
“You’re supposed to be relaxing. I shouldn’t be taking advantage of you.”
She laughed. He looked up, brows drawn in confusion.
“No one takes advantage of me. Don’t you worry about that.”
“Oh no?”
He crept closer, slipping his hand into the bubbles and finding parts of her that very much wanted to be taken advantage of.
He watched her as he brought her to orgasm with his hand. His long, strong fingers knew exactly what she needed. She tried not to break eye contact, loving the way his eyes narrowed in the most intense way. But when the world started shifting, her head lolled back of its own volition.
No freaking way was she in control.
As she spiraled up for the second time in a row, she tightened her thighs against his hand.
Rogan’s sudden, panicked voice interrupted her bliss.
“Buster, no!”
“Bus—?”
Too late.
Giant dog. Splashing. Jumping. In. Her. Tub.
She screeched and lifted her knees, but he was already on her.
Rogan swore as he grabbed the dog by the collar, hauling him out of the tub and sending him out of the room.
“I’m sorry. He must have escaped his cage again.”
“Houdini dog, huh?”
Rogan’s mouth twisted. “That was quite a mood wrecker.”
“Yeah, you could say that.” She grabbed the towel and held it in front of her as she stood from the tub. She had no desire to bathe with dog fur.
“Damn, you’re sexy.”
His eyes told her he felt he was telling the truth.
She didn’t believe it, of course, but the way he looked at her made her feel like a swimsuit model. So she didn’t have double Ds—big deal. He seemed quite content with her barely-Bs.
He was pretty damned sexy himself. When he smiled. When he laughed. When he made fun of her. When he was irritated with her. And, most especially, when he looked at her like he wanted to take her right then and there.
“I should go.”
“No way.”
He held his hand out and helped her step over the tub. He then took advantage of his grip on her and pulled her to him, soaking him even more than she already had during their kissing session.
“This date is not over.”
She kissed him sweetly, trying her best to keep it chaste.
“This has been wonderful. Truly.”
“It’s not over.”
“I have to get to bed.”
“I have one of those. I’d love to introduce you to it.”
Her hips pressed against his, feeling his erection pushing against her. Her towel suddenly felt very, very thin.
As did her willpower.
His hands captured hers, holding them to the sides of her body. She felt imprisoned, trapped, yet in no way eager to escape.
But as he nuzzled her neck and squeezed her hands with his, the cold metal of his wedding ring bit into her finger.
“I can’t, Rogan.”
“Yes you can. I’ll help you.”
“No.” She pulled her hands out of his and pressed them to his chest, even though pulling away was the last thing her body wanted her to do. “I can’t.”
She turned around and exited the room, heading for the den where she had left her clothes.
She closed the den door behind her. Rogan stood on the other side.
She jerked her clothes on over her wet body.
When she opened the door again, he was still there. Looking perplexed.
“Did I do something wrong?”
She slumped against the door jam.
“No. Not really. Well, yeah, I guess.”
What was wrong with her? She was not an indecisive woman. She was not one to pull punches or talk her way around a problem.
“Tell me what you didn’t like. I’ll do different.”
“It’s what you’re wearing.”
He grinned and pulled his shirt over his head. He tossed it to the floor, along with her now-gaping jaw.
He was better built than should be humanly possible.
All muscle. Toned, tanned, ready for her tongue to trace…
“Wedding ring.” She sputtered the words out as they entered her mind. “Your wedding ring. I can’t be with you when you’re still wearing it.”
His grin fled his face as quickly as it had come. All color drained, too.
He twisted his ring, probably unconsciously.
“I’m a widower. This is okay. She’s been gone a long time.”
“I know. I’m not accusing you of anything, I just can’t be with you when you’re obviously still attached. And you’re still wearing the symbol of your love.”
Tears gathered in her eyes. She blinked them away, straightening her spine.
“Thank you for a lovely evening, Rogan. I have to go.”
“I drove you here.”
“I’ll call a taxi.”
“This is Healing Springs. The taxi company is family owned and the main driver is as old as the Springs. You’d be waiting way too long. Please, either stay or let me drive you.”
Stay.
That’s what her heart wanted.
What her body demanded.
But her brain was the one in charge.
“I’d appreciate a ride, then. Thank you.”
He delivered her home as promised. He walked her to the door, kissed her gently, and slipped the book he had bought and read to her into her hands before he walked away.
She stood in the doorway, watching him return to his truck. His shoulders slumped, betraying his dejection. Before he got in the SUV, he paused. He looked at her with such longing, she almost ran down the driveway to beg him to stay.
But she didn’t beg.
No matter how womanly he made her feel, no matter how strong her desire for him was, she shouldn’t have ever decided to mix business with pleasure.
She had to draw the same lines here that she had drawn so deliberately in Manhattan.
There was no room in her life for school-girl crushes and out of control hormonal rushes.
Chapter Ten
Working through the night was a lot easier in the city that never sleeps than it proved to be in the sleepy town of Healing Springs.
With the sun barely over the horizon, and not enough coffee left to keep her awake, Reed decided she’d have to head to town for coffee and supplies.
Coffee was easy. The little shop buzzed with Sunday morning activity. Everyone was engrossed in conversation or a newspaper, so she was able to order and escape without anyone trying to make nice.
Clutching her steaming cup with both hands, she strolled down Main Street, hoping the fresh air would help wake her up.
She had to admit—the town held a certain charming quality she had only previously seen in movies.
The tree-lined streets graced the area with shade and beauty. Containers of various sizes brimmed with flowers, adding to the landscaped look. Across the street from the busy business section was a large town park—what they referred to as “the common.” She hadn’t made it over there yet, but she had heard there was a decent-sized pond, a playground, a giant tree house, and a gazebo for town concerts, among other things.
Sounded like exactly the sort of place she should avoid.
Fatigue set in after she walked a short distance.
Her tired eyes found a wrought iron table and chair set, neatly placed in front of what looked like a gift shop.
She slumped into it and sipped her coffee, wondering if she could put her head down for a quick nap.
Eyes closed, she didn’t notice anyone approach until the chair across the table scraped against the pavement.
“I suppose you are the new legend of town.”
Reed sat up straight in her chair, not in the mood for small talk, but knowing full well this wasn’t the sort of town one could ignore people in.<
br />
“Legend? Hardly.” She sipped her coffee again, praying for the caffeine to go straight to her brain. “I’m Reed. Reed Peterson.”
Reed held her hand out to the old woman.
“Miss Molly. Nice to meet you.”
The woman’s one eye twinkled with youthful friendliness. The eye patch adorning her other eye was pink leopard print with yellow sequins on the edges.
“I hear you’ve hit it off well with Rogan Douglas. Nice boy, that one.”
Reed fiddled with the lid of her coffee cup. She hated gossip. Despised it. She certainly had no desire to participate in it when she was the subject.
Reed fastened her mental harness and replied, “He’s an excellent contractor. Does good work.”
“That, he is. He’s also a good man.”
Reed nodded.
“You’ll make an excellent pair.”
Reed placed her cup on the table, knowing she had to grab this elderly bull by her strong and intrusive horns.
“We have a business relationship. He was hired for a job. That is all. Whatever BS is going around town is wrong, I can assure you.”
“Mmm. Interesting.” Miss Molly sat forward in her chair, placing her paper-skinned arms on the table. “That’s a mighty strong denial.”
“It’s the truth.”
Miss Molly leaned back, resting one elbow on the table and the other hand in her lap.
“I know you’re new to town, and I’m thrilled to have you here. I’ve been speaking up on your behalf against those stuffy old selectman in regards to your property. You deserve a chance to restore it to its former glory.”
Reed swallowed before speaking, wishing her previous tone hadn’t been so harsh. The old woman was harmless. Friendly. She just didn’t understand boundaries. Maybe no one in this town did.
“I appreciate that. I have big plans for the property.”
“People around here don’t always appreciate outsiders coming in and taking over businesses, especially big city people. But I have a good feeling about you and your potential.”
Yes, small town prejudice. Reed had worried about that. Had even been warned about it. But she’d be damned if she’d let it derail her.
“Thank you for your encouraging words. I have to get going now.” Reed stood to leave, but Miss Molly reached a hand out and grabbed her arm.
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