With an easy grace, he swung back into the saddle and grinned down at her.
After a gentlemanly tip of his hat, he wheeled Thunder around and headed out of the ranch yard, back in the direction of the Shady H.
What a whirlwind he was, but such a fun ride. Unexpected.
Trying to pack the rest of the day into just a few hours was a challenge. Doc showed up on time to check out one of her mares who was weeks away from giving birth, and gave the new colt, Aces Wild, a clean bill of health. Before he left, he bestowed his opinion of Fire, telling her she was in for a fight with that one, but when and if she got him mellow enough to stand still for five minutes on a lead line to give him a call. The horse needed his shots and God only knew what else.
Luckily, Scott agreed to stay a bit longer to help her and Tom feed the stock. By four p.m. she headed to the house, cursing the fact she’d never find anything to wear and put herself in it in less than an hour.
As she stared at the contents of her closet, she confirmed that thought. Jeans, tee shirts, baseball shirts, and plaid blouses made up the majority of her wardrobe. There was a deep red top and a pair of black slacks, but they weren’t dressy enough for Louie’s. “Not even close,” she muttered. Maybe Craig would settle for dinner somewhere less fancy.
Then the plastic bag in the dark recesses of the closet caught her attention. She hesitated before reaching for it.
It was the dress she wore for a friend’s wedding a year ago. Okay, so this definitely fell into the realm of dressy. Quinn pulled it out of the dress bag and laid it out on the bed. Was it too fancy? At least it wasn’t one of those satiny fuchsia numbers with lots of frills and rhinestones. Her friend had better taste than that. The outfit was a simple black dress, cocktail length with a scoop neck and spaghetti straps. A matching short-sleeved jacket would cover her shoulders, but maybe with the right necklace and earrings it would be fine for Louie’s.
Well, she didn’t have a choice. It was either this or the black slacks and red shirt. Man, she really needed a shopping trip to pad her wardrobe with a little more than work clothes.
Given the lack of time to get ready, Quinn had to forgo the suggested bubble bath for a quick shower. Time was ticking and Craig would arrive in half an hour. Generally, her routine was shower, brush and braid her hair, but today she took the extra time and pulled her old hair dryer out of a box in the bathroom closet. How in the world did women do this on a daily basis, she wondered as she applied a touch of makeup to her face. Thank God the horses didn’t care what color eye shadow she wore or whether her shoes matched her purse. This was way too much work.
Then she thought of why she did it. An honest to God, out in public date with the man of her dreams—and Louie’s cooking. She might just wear a purple taffeta bridesmaid’s gown covered with pearls and faux diamonds.
Luckily, it wouldn’t come to that.
Craig knocked on her door promptly at five p.m. Quinn opened the door to him and took a step back. She’d never seen him in a suit. She had always admired him in jeans and a tee shirt, but this Craig looked as if he’d stepped out of the pages of Gentleman’s Quarterly.
“You take my breath away.” It was almost as if he was a different man dressed in a dark suit with a maroon and navy striped tie. He had shaved and his dark hair was combed neatly back from his face. One rogue lock, however, fell against his tanned forehead.
Then he smiled and the Craig she’d fallen head over heels for emerged with those endearing and sexy dimples etched into each cheek.
“I’m supposed to say that,” he replied and leaned down for a fast kiss.
She wished his lips would’ve lingered a bit longer. The quick taste was too much of a tease for her senses. “Hmm. I would’ve thought the comment would be, ‘Who would’ve thought there was a girl in there.’”
“Darling, I haven’t had any doubts. Ready to go?”
The drive to Rapid City generally took forever, but time sped by with Craig behind the wheel. If she worried they’d run out of things to say to each other by the time they drove into the city limits, her concerns were unfounded. In fact, she thought that maybe she talked too much. Finally, a man she could have a two-hour conversation with without running out of subject matter.
Their banter ran the gamut, including Europe, training techniques for difficult horses, Jacob, Long Knife Creek Ranch, and Craig’s career as a travel writer.
That aspect about him fascinated her. She admitted freely and proudly that she owned all his books. Pride from knowing him personally had commanded her and many other Falstadites, to buy them all. That he’d become so successful at it made it hard to put the writer and rancher into the same man.
Conversation paused when they pulled into Louie’s parking lot. For a late weekday evening the lot contained a lot of cars. Quinn was afraid they weren’t going to be able to get a table, but as soon as they walked through the door, Craig motioned to the maitre d’, a distinguished gentleman with a smooth Italian accent. He smiled broadly for Craig, making Quinn wonder if the two knew each other.
Louie’s first class all the way. The overhead lighting was dim, each white-clothed table bathed in candlelight, twinkling against the highly polished silverware and glasses. There was no lack of greenery, placed strategically so each table was awarded at least some privacy. Several smaller rooms and alcoves branched off the larger main dining area, and they were led to a private table overlooking the garden.
“I’m impressed,” she said as the maitre d’ helped her with her chair. “What’s your secret?”
“Name recognition I guess. I don’t take advantage of it as a rule, but sometimes it’s worth it to bend the rules.”
“Thank you for including me in your momentary lapse.”
A waiter, dressed completely in black, brought a bottle of wine to their table. He listed off the specials from memory, describing in detail every aspect of each dish. His voice was smooth and accented. After Craig and Quinn ordered, he left them to their wine.
“Louie brings his staff over from Italy,” Craig told her.
“Quite the change of scenery for them.”
“He’s got the reputation that draws them and keeps them here.”
“Yeah for his reputation. I thank God he doesn’t take it off to a big city far far away.”
Over the most gorgeous plate of Fettuccini Alfredo she’d ever seen, Quinn turned the conversation back to horses, more specifically, Fire. “I want to concentrate my efforts on him. Before you say anything, hear me out.”
Craig’s brows furrowed and he put down his fork. He didn’t exactly glare at her, but she saw the disapproving glow in his blue eyes. Granted it was concern for her safety that came first and foremost, but she knew, despite whatever he had to say, she would train that horse.
“I have a friend I want to bring in. Usually he charges an arm and a leg, but since we’re friends he’ll cut me a deal. He’s a whiz. I’ve never seen a horse not react to him. It’ll be my investment, but I know it will pay off.”
“He’ll be working with the beast by himself?”
Quinn glanced down at her plate for a moment. She could lie and tell him what he wanted to hear, but she respected him too much to do that, and respected herself enough not to give herself credit for knowing what to do. “No, I’ll be working with him. But primarily it’ll be Austin. Don’t look at me that way. Fire has to get to know me and this is the only way, if I work with him on a daily basis. I have Austin for two weeks, starting after the overnighter. He promised me two weeks is all he needs.”
Craig didn’t respond right away and Quinn wondered about his silence. He didn’t look directly at her face and she followed the path of his gaze. It settled on her bandaged thumb. “Oh, come on, Craig. This was a fluke. Scott and I got the halter off the horse today and didn’t have any problem. I’m not a beginner. Have some faith.” She nudged him under the table with her toe.
His gaze went back to her face. Concern showed in his blu
e eyes and the frown on his lips. Then his features relaxed a bit and a small smile appeared. “I’m going to worry about you. From now on, I’m going to worry about everything you do, including galloping bareback over the prairie. I guess I’ll have to get used to it.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll make a deal. If Austin can’t get the job done then we can reassess my ‘ownership’ of Fire. But I think this guy can do it if anyone can. Regular horse whisperer.”
“I may have to come over and watch.”
“That would be distracting.” She smiled at him and tapped him with her toe again. God, was she playing footsie? She pulled her foot away, suddenly feeling heat rush into her cheeks.
They spent the rest of the incredible dinner discussing more trivial things and ended with a shared serving of tiramisu and coffee. At half past nine they walked out of Louie’s, completely satisfied. In the parking lot, under the trees adorned with tiny, shimmering lights, Craig swung her into his arms, lowered his head to hers and took her in an overpowering, mind-melting kiss that left her weak kneed and steamy.
Once they were back on the road, he held onto her hand as he drove. They didn’t speak, but they didn’t have to. She loved the silence, the feel of him in the seat next to her while she watched the black landscape slide by. Hills rolled gently, darker than the deep purple sky. It rose and fell, sometimes flattening out for miles. Occasionally they passed a house or a ranch that was lit up, but mostly it was just dark. In the rearview mirror she noted the clouds gathering. A jagged, forked finger reached out from one toward the earth, lighting the entire bottom of the cloud with a white flash. It looked wicked, but far away. Still, she kept her eye on it. It excited her, as if the lightning itself charged her blood. Nothing like a storm racing across the prairie. At night it seemed all that much more awesome.
When they arrived at Emerald, she was wide-awake and bound with energy. Craig got out of the car and they walked hand in hand to the house. On the porch, she turned to face him.
“Want to come in? Or do you need to get home?”
“Marisol is spending the night with my parents. And I believe there was a second part to our bet. Unless you’re too tired.”
Ah, yes, the second part. No, she wasn’t too tired at all.
“Come on in.”
Now this was strange. Inviting him into his own home, her first home, her first relationship with a man outside college. It shouldn’t have shaken her. After all, they’d already made love on several occasions, including in her own bed, but this, well the tone of the evening was different than that first time. More laid back, like they were a real couple coming home from an evening out.
“Don’t start playing house yet,” she told herself sternly and kicked off the low-heeled sling-backs she’d tortured herself with all evening.
“Can I get you a drink? Wine or beer? Water?”
“I’m good,” Craig replied. He took his jacket off and slung it over the back of a chair in the living room.
Yes, he was. Quinn decided she didn’t need alcohol—this man was enough. In the crisp white button down dress shirt, he looked taller and broader than normal. She tried to connect this businessman with the rancher, and if it weren’t for the smile on his face, she wouldn’t have been able to do it. Both sides of him were incredibly and equally sexy and she hoped she’d get a glimpse of this Craig from time to time. She knew those moments would be few and far between, but it would be worth the wait.
“Hmm,” she thought aloud, looking around the living room. She tapped her finger against her lips then glanced at Craig. His eyes were steady and intense.
“Hmm what?”
“Deciding where the best place for a massage would be,” she replied. “Here or the bedroom?”
Craig decided for her. With ease, he swung her up into his arms and carried her down to her room, covering the distance with ground-eating strides.
Thank goodness she’d made the bed that morning.
When he carefully laid her down on the bed, she watched him as he pulled the tie free of his neck. “Of course the best place for a massage is at the spa over at Long Knife,” she noted, her tone teasing.
He glanced down at her and grinned. “They won’t give me the personal service I demand.” He dropped the tie on her dresser and started unbuttoning his shirt.
Quinn continued to watch him. “If you’d given me some notice I would’ve picked up some of those sexy massage oils. The kind that are supposed to heat up and make your muscles tingle.”
Craig chuckled and shrugged off his shirt. Quinn’s mouth went dry. She took a deep breath and tried to slow down the quick-fire beat of her heart. Every single part of her started to melt at the sight of his bare torso, the tanned muscular chest. He’d been doing some work outside without a shirt on. That was something she wanted to see.
“I don’t think we need any fancy massage oils, but it’s a nice thought.”
“Well, I’m not going to use horse liniment on you. The only thing I have on hand is some of my girly body cream. Do you really want to smell like cherry blossoms?”
He started working on his pants. She couldn’t sit here watching. She felt rather foolish staring at his long bare legs as his pants dropped to the floor. With more energy than she felt, she got off the bed and headed to the bathroom. In there, she looked at herself in the mirror and was surprised at the flustered look in her wide eyes. She wasn’t used to being thrown curve balls when they came from a man like Craig. Oh, hell, she thought, it was Craig. If she’d been there with any one else she’d be calm. She would never be in this position with any other man.
He was waiting for her. She grabbed the bottle of lotion out of the medicine cabinet and went back to her room. Craig reclined on her bed, not completely undressed.
Hmm. Boxer briefs. I think I approve.
Quinn stared a moment longer, gripping the bottle tightly. “I kind of stretched the truth about ‘magic fingers’. I have never given a massage to anyone, well, any humans anyway, so you’ll have to forgive me if I hurt you.”
“First of all you need to get out of your dress, because as beautiful as it is, and no matter how absolutely gorgeous you look in it, I don’t think you’ll be comfortable.”
Quinn put the lotion down on the bedside table and turned her back to him. “Can you get the zipper?” She pulled her hair aside, baring her shoulder. As his fingers drew the zipper slowly down her back, he kissed her skin. Thrills ran throughout her body at each touch, each brush of his lips against her, each stroke of his fingers as he gently pushed the spaghetti straps off her shoulders and then released the hooks on the back of her black strapless bra.
Pure contentment filled her, replacing the nervousness she felt a moment ago. This was right. Slow paced, no reason to rush. No one waited for either of them. She leaned against him and sighed deeply.
“Don’t you think you’re getting out of your end of the bet,” Craig whispered in her ear before kissing the lobe. “Maybe you should change into something more comfortable.”
Quinn pulled away from him and ambled to her closet, letting the dress slide from her body, followed by the bra, so all that covered her was the black slip and stockings. She ought to put on her rattiest pair of sweat pants and an old tee shirt. She pulled out what she considered was her most seductive pair of pajamas. Not one piece of sexy negligee hung from her closet or graced her dresser drawers. She wasn’t a negligee kind of gal, but she did have a simple, pale green silky nightgown that plunged low and reached mid thigh. She’d bought it under extreme duress when she was in Paris and her friends discovered a shop of such niceties. This was the least offensive garment she could find. She slid it over her head, and for the first time she was glad they had talked her into purchasing it.
She sauntered back into the bedroom and eyed Craig. He looked comfortable, lying against her pillows, arms behind his head, smiling at her. Smug. That’s what he looked. Damned smug while she shivered inside.
Easy does it. Yeah,
easier said than done. She didn’t know why her insides were in such a flutter. This wasn’t their first time together. But this was the first time when they hadn’t been taken by a firestorm of want and need. Now they faced a slow buildup of passion and it gave her time to think, time to consider.
“Okay, big guy.” She slid into bed next to him, ran her hand up from the waistband of his boxers to his collarbone and nibbled at his jaw. “Turn over onto your stomach. You’re going to get a massage you won’t soon forget.”
Chapter 14
Someone or something was staring at him. Craig cracked one eye open. A blur of gray and black with a slash of pink and white took shape in front of his face. Then he noticed the sound. The sharp in and out of breath followed by the sound of licking of lips. It got his attention and he opened his other eye.
Quinn’s Blue Heeler, Zorro sat at the side of the bed, staring at him with intent brown eyes. His ears pricked up as soon as Craig moved.
For a moment, he’d forgotten where he was, but now he remembered. The room was bathed in weak light but he recognized it as Quinn’s, and when he reached his hand out, he found her warm little body curled up next to him. He left his hand resting on her side so he could feel the gentle rise and fall as she breathed.
The dog, however, wouldn’t be ignored. He gave a little whimper to let Craig know he was desperate to go out. Carefully Craig got out of bed, pulled on his discarded boxers and white tee shirt, and took Zorro out of the room. The dog jogged enthusiastically ahead and waited for him at the door.
A thin gray drizzle fell out of the lead colored sky. Last night’s storm left enormous puddles all across the ranch yard and it didn’t look like there’d be any sun to dry them up. He watched the dog make his rounds, sniffing out any new and interesting scents, pausing here and there and being distracted by sounds down at the barn. Whatever he heard, Craig couldn’t make it out.
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