“Much.” She slowly turned over and smiled softly. “Your hands are magic. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything as good in my life.”
“Glad I could help.” He hurried to the door and away from the temptation to show her something that could feel even better. “Be sure to drink more water. Good night.”
He closed the door behind him even as she called good-night to him. Leaning against the wall, he let out a heavy sigh. He’d escaped with his life. But barely. He was in deep trouble here.
* * *
Camille heard her good-night echo in the empty place where Jericho had stood only moments ago. Her legs still tingled from the warmth of his hands, and as he’d promised, the cramps were all but gone.
She’d been in such agony she’d wondered if she would be able to sleep at all that night. Within a few minutes he’d worked away the worst of her charley horses and the pain had become manageable. She could have told him he could stop, but she hadn’t. The feel of his masterful hands caressing her body was so good she hadn’t wanted it to end. She’d become more aroused than she’d ever been. Had he been able to tell when her moans changed from pain to pleasure? Probably. He’d been married for years and would recognize the sounds of an aroused woman. Perhaps he’d left so abruptly because he didn’t share her feelings and didn’t want to embarrass her.
Humiliation made her cheeks flame. She was lusting after him, and he couldn’t wait to get away from her. She knew he didn’t desire her. He was still in love with Jeanette. He’d reminded her of that only days ago.
She needed to keep her growing attraction to herself. If she didn’t, embarrassment would be the least of her concerns. He might feel so uneasy around her he’d ask her to leave. She had no place else to go, so she needed to stay on his good side.
She liked spending time with him and thought he felt the same. But maybe he didn’t. Perhaps he resented her intruding on his private time. Although the thought made her sad, she knew what had to be done. Starting tomorrow she would keep her distance and give him back his privacy.
Chapter Ten
Jericho stood at the top of the stairs and listened. No sound came from Camille’s room. The sun had only just broken over the horizon, so she was probably asleep. His stomach clenched as he remembered how much pain she’d been in last night. No doubt she had a hard time sleeping, so it would be wrong to disturb her. He’d tossed and turned himself, but for an entirely different reason.
He’d lain in bed awake for hours, remembering the way her soft skin had felt. Given the way he’d gotten turned on, he should be grateful for the time alone. He needed to get his head together. No matter how many times he tried to convince himself that he wasn’t being disloyal to Jeanette, he still felt guilty about being attracted to Camille. Heck, sometimes he felt guilty for being alive when Jeanette and their baby weren’t. He knew Jeanette would want him to move on with his life, but that didn’t seem fair. But fair or not, she was gone. And he was still attracted to Camille.
He descended the stairs and switched on the coffeemaker, then let Shadow out and filled the dog’s food and water bowls. When Shadow returned, he wandered from room to room as if searching for Camille, whining when he failed to find her. Apparently Jericho wasn’t the only one who’d gotten used to Camille. She was making a place in their lives whether Jericho wanted her to or not.
Wishing he could whine out his discontent as easily as his canine friend, Jericho filled his mug and headed to the barn. He cleaned the stalls quickly, but the task wasn’t as enjoyable as it had been yesterday. He missed Camille’s soft singing and her generally happy demeanor. Several times he stopped working and listened, imagining he’d heard her footsteps only to be greeted by silence.
A glance at his watch confirmed that it was almost nine o’clock. She should be awake by now. Then why hadn’t she come to find him? Shouldn’t she at least let him know she was feeling better? Something.
Was she still sore? Did she hurt too badly to get out of bed? He knew Camille needed to keep busy so she wouldn’t focus on her fears. Or was her absence due to something else entirely? Had she realized he had become aroused last night? He’d done his best to disguise his reaction, but some things a man just couldn’t hide. Perhaps she felt uncomfortable around him now.
He recalled his angry words to her the night she first arrived. He’d thrown the past in her face, taunting her about her attempted seduction. Even back then he’d known what she was really trying to do. It had pissed him off to no end to know she’d thought so little of him that she’d do anything to keep him from marrying Jeanette, including trapping him in a compromising position.
Before she’d shown up on his doorstep, he hadn’t given Camille or her opinion of him a thought. Now, though, her opinion mattered. He wouldn’t play the game of asking himself why. He knew why. For the first time in a long time he was interested in a woman. Despite everything she’d done in the past, he liked her and wanted her to feel comfortable with him. To feel at home on the ranch. Maybe he’d blown it last night, but he intended to make up for that. Starting now.
He finished cleaning the stalls and then walked to the pasture to check on the horses. Certain that all was well, he headed for the house, determined to get things with Camille back on track.
The kitchen was just as he’d left it. The level of coffee in the pot was the same, and the mug he’d set out for her hadn’t been touched. Images of Jeanette lying on their bedroom floor that horrible day flashed through his mind. Although he knew he was being irrational, worry surged through him, leaving a burning trail of fear. Jericho called himself every name in the book as he ran through the kitchen. He was nearing the stairs when he heard a sound coming from the den. It was a cross between a sob and a groan.
Breathing hard, he spun around and headed in that direction. He pushed open the partially closed door. It banged loudly against the wall, causing a picture to fall from its hook. Camille, who had been sitting at his desk, jumped and screamed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. Her face had paled, and she was shaking.
“I was about to ask you the same thing. You didn’t come down for breakfast and now you’re crying.” His heart was still pounding in his chest, but now that he could see that Camille was physically unharmed it was starting to slow.
She wiped a hand across her wet cheek. He noticed that her eyes were filled with pain seconds before she blinked and removed all expression from her face. “Nothing.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t give me that. We’re friends. You can tell me what’s wrong.”
She stared at him for a long moment before bursting into tears. “Are we friends, Jericho? Or are we making the best of a horrid situation? I know you didn’t want me here, but I made you feel guilty so you would let me stay. Then I intruded on your life. You must be getting sick of me. Be honest. Are you counting the minutes until you will be rid of me?”
Her shoulders were shaking, and she was sobbing uncontrollably. Pain pierced his heart at her sorrow. He crossed the room, wrapped his arm around her waist and led her to the leather couch against the far wall. “Let’s sit down.”
Nodding, she let him help her to sit. He waited until the worst had passed. She huffed out a breath, then wiped her eyes with the hem of her shirt. Finally she met his eyes.
“What happened?” he asked quietly. “We had a lot of fun yesterday. At least I did. Did you?”
She nodded.
“What changed between then and now?”
Her chest lifted as she inhaled deeply then blew out a gusty breath. Embarrassment flickered across her face, yet she held his gaze. “I had a nightmare and I panicked.”
“About...”
“About the people who are after me. People I once thought of as friendly coworkers hired someone to kill me. That’s kind of scary.”
“Not kind of. It is scary. And I know that no matter how m
any times I reassure you that you’re safe here, your fear won’t totally vanish. Which is why I think we need to bring Trent into the loop.” She shook her head. “I’m not going to push you. I know where you stand. But the next time you’re feeling especially nervous, come to me. I promise I won’t turn you away.”
Her spine lost some of its rigidness as the tension left her body. For a brief moment he thought she might lean her head against his chest, but she didn’t, leaving him disappointed. She spoke so softly he could barely hear her. “I was worried that you were getting tired of me. I know my presence here has changed your life.”
That it had. But his life had needed changing. He hadn’t been raised to mope and have pity parties. All his life he’d been told that life was a gift, and the best way to show his appreciation was to live it to the fullest. He hadn’t come close this past year. True, he’d needed time to mourn Jeanette’s loss, but he had gone past mourning to wallowing. He hadn’t felt grateful. Hadn’t wanted his life. But he was alive even if Jeanette was not. She would be ashamed if she could see the way he’d been behaving. He certainly hadn’t honored her memory or the life they’d shared.
“I admit I wasn’t glad to see you when you arrived, but you’re what I needed. I was sleepwalking through life, and you’ve helped me to wake up. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.”
She smiled and his heart jumped in response. “Thanks.” Her smile faded. “There’s more. I just checked my email. There was one I hadn’t read. It was sent by Agent Delgado before his accident, the day I overheard my boss plotting to kill me. There’s been a setback. They thought they knew the identity of the traitor inside the agency. Now it looks like there is more than one, although he doesn’t know who it is. How can that be possible? Are there really that many corrupt people in our government?”
“Did he say anything else to indicate you were in more danger than before?”
“No. He hasn’t written to me since then. I just thought I would be able to go home by now.”
Jericho’s heart sank at her words. Go home? He wasn’t ready for her to leave. He liked having her around and couldn’t imagine not seeing her beautiful face every day. But he realized that just because his feelings had changed didn’t mean hers had. She’d come to the Double J only out of desperation. To her, the ranch must seem like prison.
“You’re ready to get out of this stinking fresh air?” he joked, trying to cover his disappointment.
She frowned, looking absolutely miserable. “My life is going on without me.”
“That’s an odd way to put things. You’re living your life even if you’re not in New York.”
“Maybe. And I was thinking about Rodney. We used to get together for lunch when I lived in Chicago. When I moved to New York we kept in touch by phone. We talk once or twice a week. He’s back from the Bahamas by now. What if he tries to reach me?”
“Can you send him an email letting him know you’re safe?”
“And then what? He wouldn’t be satisfied by that. He’d insist on seeing me. And if someone is following him, that would put all of us in danger. I would never forgive myself if something happened to him because of me.”
“Then you’re doing the right thing by not contacting him. Once this is over he’ll be angry, but he’ll be so glad you’re safe he’ll forgive you.”
“You’re right. Thanks for listening to me.” She gave a little laugh that was a pale imitation of her real one. “I guess I went a little crazy there for a minute. I’m okay now.”
“You know what you need? A change of scenery.”
“What do you suggest?”
“A trip to the beach.”
“A beach? Around here?”
“Yes. There’s a beach in Sweet Briar. We didn’t pass it because we stayed downtown. It’s just what the doctor ordered.” She needed to get off the Double J before she went stir-crazy.
“I’m not sure about that. What if someone sees me?”
“At the beach? If I was tracking you down, the last place I would think to look would be a beach in North Carolina.”
“True, but I don’t have a suit.”
The thought of Camille in a bikini conjured up images of them getting soaked in the tide before he removed the scraps of fabric. Not something he should be thinking of now. “We won’t swim. We can take some sandwiches and have a picnic. How does that sound?”
A smile lit her face. “It sounds great.”
* * *
“This place is fabulous,” Camille said as she spread a blanket on the sand and sat down. Shadow immediately dropped beside her and placed his head on her lap. Camille rubbed the dog’s soft fur.
Jericho set the wicker picnic basket onto the blanket, then squatted beside her. “What do you want to do first?”
Camille leaned back, reclining on her elbows and soaking up the atmosphere. The sun was shining in the clear blue sky, providing just the right amount of heat. A gentle breeze fluffed her hair, blowing strands into her eyes. She brushed it behind her ear. She didn’t have a headband, so she imagined she’d be doing that quite often today. Not that she minded. Nothing could ruin this day.
She slipped off her sandals, then stuck her toes into the warm sand until her feet were entirely covered. She wiggled her toes and the space between them was filled with sand.
“Ah, so we’re burying ourselves in sand up to our necks. Cool. It’s a lot easier if you lie down.”
“I’m simply letting my feet relax, not planning on burying myself.” She glanced at the ocean. The waves were large, but they didn’t seem to be deterring other beachgoers. Several teen girls in itty-bitty bikinis were bobbing in the shallow water near the shore and sneaking peeks over their shoulders at teenage boys who were rough-housing in deeper water. The boys’ raucous laughter filled the air, and Shadow barked as if replying.
Farther down the beach, several industrious little kids were filling blue and red plastic buckets with sand, dragging the buckets to the water’s edge, and then turning them over, dumping the sand into the waves. They watched, cheering as the water slowly washed away the mounds of sand, then hurried back to begin scooping sand into the buckets again. She watched them for a bit, not quite understanding their glee, then shrugged. If it was fun to them that was all that mattered.
She dug a chewed-up tennis ball from the canvas bag filled with Shadow’s treats and tossed it to Jericho. Standing, she brushed sand from her pink cotton shorts. “How about if we gather some seashells. Are there any along this stretch of beach?”
He caught the ball with one hand and threw it back. “Probably. To be honest, that’s more of a female activity.”
She flipped him the ball, this time a bit harder. “Got it. I’ll pick them up and you can stand around looking suitably masculine.”
He struck a pose and flexed his muscles. He was goofing around, but it didn’t detract from his appeal. Dressed in khaki shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt, he looked sexier than any man had the right to. Desire shot through her like a bullet from a gun, with lots of potential for damage to her heart.
He tossed the ball back to her.
She caught it and put a hand on her hip. “I’ve never owned a dog, but I’m sure we should be throwing the ball to him and not back and forth to each other. He’ll never learn how to fetch this way.”
“Cute. To be honest, I don’t think this dog is smart enough to learn how to fetch. Watch.” He took the ball and threw it a short distance down the beach. Shadow barked and chased after it. Then he picked up the ball with his mouth, ran between Jericho and Camille and back down the beach, and dropped the ball where Jericho had thrown it. Camille laughed and Jericho just shook his head.
They walked across the sand. When they reached the ball, Camille picked it up and threw it a bit farther.
“Did you ever have a pet?” Jericho asked as they followed Shado
w, who was scampering after the ball.
“No. My mother’s afraid of dogs and allergic to cats.”
“What about a fish? Or a turtle?”
She shook her head, remembering how at nine years old she’d begged her father to let her have a goldfish. Rodney, who was five years older than her, had offered to pay for it and help care for it. Her father had rebuffed him. “My parents worship at the altar of the almighty dollar. My father was adamant that we not have anything that would cost money unless it provided value in return. A dog could be protection, but a goldfish only swam around in circles all day.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but your dad’s an idiot.”
“I don’t think there’s a right way that can be taken.” She smiled, though, because she’d often thought the same thing but had never dared to say it.
Shadow returned with the ball. Before he could make his escape, Camille snatched the ball from his teeth and rubbed him. “Good boy.”
Shadow barked, wagging his tail. Camille threw the ball again, and Shadow took off after it. This time Shadow didn’t return with the ball, but instead stayed where it had been thrown, chewing it happily. Camille took it from him and threw it a short distance. She called to him, and he returned with the ball in his mouth. She rubbed him until he dropped it, and rubbed him some more. They repeated the process several times. She was determined to teach this dog how to fetch before she went back to New York.
After twenty minutes or so of mostly unsuccessful attempts to teach Shadow the game, the dog plopped beside them, his tongue lolling from his mouth. Jericho rubbed the dog’s head. “Tired?”
They returned to the blanket. Jericho filled a bowl with water and Shadow drank most of it. Jericho snapped a leash on the dog and then smiled at Camille. “Ready to gather some seashells?”
The Rancher and the City Girl Page 10