Kissed by a Rancher

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Kissed by a Rancher Page 10

by Sara Orwig


  “Come see my suite. We’ll have to go through the door from the hall.”

  She followed him down the short hall until he paused to unlock the door to his suite.

  The living room was larger than hers, as was the dining area with luxurious furniture. He had a bigger balcony. Through an open door she saw a small kitchen, and she guessed a second open door led to a bedroom and bath. Another huge bouquet of mixed fresh flowers stood on the glass coffee table, and a covered spread of cheeses, fruit and crackers was on a table nearby. Champagne was on ice.

  “This is beautiful, too,” she said. He dropped his things and crossed the room to her to slip his arm around her waist.

  “I’ve waited for this moment since I told you goodbye at the inn,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. Both his arms banded her, holding her tightly pressed against him. His kiss spiraled to the center of her being, setting her ablaze as she slid her arms around his neck and clung tightly.

  Was she speeding toward heartbreak, real heartbreak that might take a long time to get over and sour her relationship with dependable Lamont? The question was fleeting, dwindling to no importance because she wanted Josh’s kisses. She wanted this exciting weekend that she otherwise might not ever have in her life. Just this once. Broken bones mended, so broken hearts must mend, too.

  It could never be a relationship or much of anything except a few times out together, but she wanted what she could get. It might hurt later, but at least she wouldn’t have giant regrets that she had let life pass her by.

  Josh’s kisses drove away all her inner worries and she yielded to him, returning his kiss as passionately as he kissed her. He was hard, strong, his lean body pressing against her.

  He shifted, running his hand lightly along her throat, down over her breast, her waist and hip, lower along her thigh. He swung her up into his arms and carried her through the suite to place her on the bed.

  He lowered himself, still holding his weight partially off her as he continued to kiss her until she pushed slightly and he raised his head.

  She ran her finger along his clean-shaven jaw. “Watch out, Josh. The first thing you know, you’re going to make that old Texas legend haunt you.”

  “At the moment, that doesn’t sound like something to fear.”

  She smiled but changed the subject. “I think I have a dress appointment soon.”

  “You do, but I couldn’t resist.” He moved away and took her hand to help her up. “Want a moment to freshen up? We have about ten minutes before we have to leave.”

  “Yes, I do,” she answered.

  He nodded, falling into step beside her. “I’ll come get you in ten minutes—how’s that?” he said as he walked her back to her suite.

  “See you then,” she said, closing the door and turning to get ready for the afternoon, while her thoughts were on the evening with Josh. Anticipation built with every second—a dinner out in one of the most famous cities in the world—a dinner with Josh. And dancing with Josh, being in his arms. Her heart raced at the thought, and eagerness enveloped her. Tonight would be a night to remember forever.

  * * *

  Josh rode down in the elevator with her, taking her arm lightly to walk to the front door. “I’ll be here at the hotel while you’re gone. I have a couple of meetings. The limo is yours for the afternoon. Just head back to the hotel by five.”

  The driver, Reed, stood waiting, holding open the door of the limo. She told Josh goodbye, climbed in and glanced back to see Josh going in the front door of the hotel. Everything in New York reminded her of the differences in their lives. She still was astounded he had asked her up for the weekend. She couldn’t imagine why he was drawn to her at all. The women he dated, she was certain, were sophisticated, like him, beautiful and accustomed to the same life as him. He was a man of mystery in a lot of ways. She was as surprised about his friendship with Mr. Hickman as she was by his interest in her.

  The limo halted in front of a shop, and Reed came around to open the door for her.

  “Thanks, Reed.”

  “Here’s my number. Call me when you see you’ll be done and I’ll come get you.”

  “Thank you,” she said, pocketing the number and turning to the boutique, feeling butterflies in her stomach. This was a far cry from Sandy Perkins’s dress shop in Beckett.

  The friendly woman named Hilda, who had been expecting her, soon ended the butterflies she felt. Instead, she was dazzled by the array of dresses Hilda brought out to show her and the treatment that made her feel like royalty.

  She finally selected two dresses, which seemed incredibly extravagant, but she suspected if she didn’t, Josh would return to the store with her and see to it that she purchased the second dress.

  At one point, Hilda stood looking at Abby in a maroon dress. “That is perfect on you. If you would like to get your hair done this afternoon, there’s a salon that I might get you in. It’s on the next block, so you could walk. They’re good and very nice.”

  Abby laughed. “Josh told you to ask me, didn’t he?”

  “No, actually, he didn’t. And your hair looks nice. I just thought with your new dresses, you might like your hair done.”

  Abby thought a moment and nodded. “If they can take me, I have time, and it might be fun.”

  Hilda left and in minutes was back. “You’re in luck. I’ve written everything down for you, and she can take you in an hour.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be glad I did, I’m sure.”

  Her purchases made, she was so curious about the city, she asked Hilda to hold her packages while she walked down the street.

  Sunshine spilled over buildings, traffic and pedestrians. A man passed on a skateboard, weaving in and out of traffic. Horns honked, and she enjoyed strolling along the avenue to the end of the block immersed in all the traffic, people hurrying past her, the sounds and sights that were so different from her world. She crossed the street to stroll along the other side, finally returning, gathering her packages and thanking Hilda. She went to the hair salon and in another hour called Reed and said she was ready to be picked up.

  Back at the hotel, her eagerness grew steadily until it was only a minute before time for Josh to appear at her door.

  She made one more check of how she looked. She had taken several pictures of her reflection in a mirror to send home and had already heard back from her mother and sister, who had seen the pictures. Her hair, parted in the middle, fell freely on both sides of her face in loose spirals. She had selected a simple sleeveless black dress that ended just above her knees deceptively modest neckline in front, but her back was left bare. She wore high-heeled black sandals and silver bangle earrings.

  She heard Josh’s light knock and picked up her black envelope purse. When she opened the door, her breath caught at the sight of Josh in his charcoal suit, red tie and white dress shirt; she also noticed his eyes widen with a look of surprise. “Do you want to come in?

  “You look stunning,” he said in a husky voice that indicated the reaction he was having. “Yeah, I want to come in, but if I do, we’ll never get to the restaurant.”

  “Then I’m coming out,” she said, grabbing a lightweight black blazer from a nearby chair and closing the door behind her.

  The corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. “You don’t want me to come in?”

  “Right now, I want the French dinner more than a kiss.”

  “It wouldn’t be just a kiss,” he said, stepping into the elevator with her. People got on at the next floor, and they rode quietly until they got out in the lobby.

  Reed and the limo waited, and soon they were driving through New York traffic as the sun slid behind tall buildings.

  “So you like the dress I selected today? And thank you very much. It was fun and exciting and they were all very nice to me, which makes me won
der about your life and how many women you’ve sent to that store to get dresses. But it’s none of my business, so you don’t have to tell me.”

  “Actually, you’re the first, but my mother has shopped there, and on a rare occasions when my sister is in New York for a horse show, she goes there. Hilda always helps Mom and Lindsay. ” He glanced at her black dress. “You look fantastic.”

  “Thank you,” she replied. “You don’t have hotel business tonight?”

  “No, I took care of everything that needed my involvement for the opening of the hotel. I’m free for the rest of the weekend, which will be devoted to entertaining you.”

  “That’s very nice, but it doesn’t seem to me that you’re really very involved,” she said.

  “I’m involved all I care to be. Don’t be concerned.”

  “Fine. You know your business, and I don’t.”

  The restaurant was on the top floor of a tall building, and the view was spectacular. They sat by floor-to-ceiling windows in a dimly lit dining area with black linen tablecloths, red roses, and candles in hurricane globes centered on the tables. A string quartet played, and there was a small dance floor, but no one dancing yet.

  “This is lovely, Josh.”

  “Yes, it is,” he said, studying her and indicating he meant her and not the view outside or the elegant restaurant.

  A waiter came, and Josh ordered champagne. After they were alone, he turned to her. “We’ll celebrate.”

  “What could we possibly be celebrating? That you’re no longer snowbound in Beckett? That we made a safe flight to New York? That we’re out in New York tonight? I can’t guess.”

  The waiter returned to show Josh the selection. He uncorked it, went through all the traditional procedures and finally poured a glass for her and then one for Josh and set the remaining champagne in the bottle in the stand.

  When they were alone, Josh raised his glass. “Here’s to your first trip to New York. May you have many more. May it be a happy, unforgettable visit, in your memory for years to come, and may you begin to see how happy you’ve made me that you came to New York.”

  “That’s a nice toast, but you can’t be serious. You’re not going to want to remember this night with me for years. Or care if I do.”

  “Oh, yes, I’ll remember. You’re unique in my life. I don’t know anyone else like you. And I really do want you to have a fun trip. This is my gratitude for rescuing me from the blizzard.”

  “As helpful and resourceful as you are, you would have managed quite well.” She touched his champagne flute lightly with hers and sipped the golden, bubbly liquid, looking into his brown eyes over the rim. She had a running current of excitement with him, but it was even stronger tonight. She expected to dance with him and to kiss him, and that kept excitement churning. On top of being in New York, she was completely dazzled. She raised her glass.

  “May you have a great opening of your newest hotel and not get stranded in any more blizzards.”

  “Thank you.” They touched glasses again and sipped. “Do you know when your inn first opened?” he asked as he set his flute on the table.

  “Only the year—1887—a very long time ago.”

  They talked as tossed greens on crystal plates were served. When she finished her dinner of creamed lobster and grilled asparagus, she placed her fork across her plate.

  “Are you ready to dance?” he asked.

  “I’d love to,” she said as he came around to hold her chair. On the dance floor, he turned to take her into his arms. Her heart thudded while she followed his lead, dancing with him to the string quartet playing an old ballad.

  She was intensely aware of him pressed against her, holding her close as they moved together. His hand was on her bare back, sending tingles all through her. As they danced, his hand trailed down to her waist, slowly, a light caress. She couldn’t get her breath and thought about kisses later.

  They danced well together—that much even she could tell. The string quartet finally played a fast song. As she danced around him, watching his moves, she was certain he would want to make love this weekend, and she had to make a decision.

  Until this week, she wouldn’t have given ten seconds of thought to such a choice; she would not have been interested. Now she thought about her future with Lamont or another man from Beckett, a routine, quiet life with little change from the life she had always known and perhaps little attention from the man she might someday marry—never the excitement she had with Josh.

  She watched Josh dance, his dark eyes steadily on her while every move he made was sexy. She stopped worrying about it—a decision to make another time, not yet—and gave herself to enjoying dancing with him. So far the weekend had been like a dream. She was going to go home in love with Josh even though she knew it would never be returned and wouldn’t work out regardless.

  Seven

  At one in the morning, after a stroll around Times Square with a mob of people, they finally headed back to the hotel.

  “Want a nightcap, Josh?” Abby asked as she placed her purse and her jacket on a chair in her room. Watching her, he shed his suit jacket and removed his tie, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt.

  “Yes,” he said as he dropped his tie on the chair. “There should be a cold beer in that fridge in your kitchen. If you don’t find what you want, we can call room service.”

  They walked into the kitchen, and she opened the small refrigerator. “I see grape soda pop, which will be fine for me,” she said, getting the soda and the beer.

  “It’s a nice night. Want to sit on the balcony?” he asked.

  “I’d love to turn out the lights and sit on the balcony and look at the city, which is absolutely fascinating.”

  “I’m glad you like the city, and I’ll have to admit that I’m surprised. I thought you wouldn’t care for it very much. Sort of ‘I want to see, and now I can go home.’”

  “Oh, no. I think I could spend the year here and not see all I want to see. As it is, we have a day, so let’s go sit, and you tell me what we’re going to do tomorrow.”

  He switched off lights, leaving on one small light above the kitchen counter. They walked through the suite. In the living area, he set down their drinks to unlock and open the sliding glass door. A breeze swept in from the balcony.

  “This is a beautiful hotel,” she said.

  He turned to slip his arm around her. “I’ve waited all week for this moment,” he said in a husky voice. “I’ve dreamed of holding you and kissing you, and I don’t want to wait another minute.” He leaned closer to kiss her, and she wrapped her arms around him tightly to press against him.

  He kissed her with such hunger and desperation that she trembled. His hand drifted lightly down her back until he found the zipper at the waist of her backless dress and unfastened it slowly. His hand slipped beneath her dress, down over her bottom.

  The intimate caress made her moan as she unfastened the buttons on his shirt. She wanted to touch him as he touched her, to slide her hands over him and excite him as he did her.

  He leaned forward to kiss her, his hands shifting beneath the top of her dress to push the material off her shoulders. When he moved away, her dress fell to her hips, and he stepped back to look at her. “You’re beautiful,” he said, tossing his shirt aside. He cupped her breasts and caressed her lightly with his thumbs. The sensations rocked her. Gasping, she closed her eyes and clung to him.

  “Abby, I’ve dreamed of this moment,” he whispered, straightening to frame her face with his hands. “I want you—you can’t imagine how much,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

  Sliding her arms around his neck, she stood on tiptoe to kiss him. His arms banded her waist, crushing her to him as they kissed, hot passionate kisses that made her want to toss aside her caution. Kissing him was exciting beyond a
nything she had ever known or imagined.

  She wanted him with her whole being while she felt it meant little to him, something casual that would not involve his heart. She didn’t know whether she could deal with that.

  She pulled away. “Josh, I didn’t come to New York to sleep with you. It may happen, but I’m not ready at this point. I still feel we barely know each other. You said I had no obligations in accepting this trip.”

  “You don’t,” he said, caressing her throat, his breathing ragged as if he had run miles. “Absolutely not. I never want a woman in my arms out of a feeling of obligation.” He pulled her dress back in place. “We’ll slow down. We’ll go sit on the balcony, sip our drinks and talk. How’s that?” he asked. His voice was hoarse, and the hungry expression on his face made her want to step back into his embrace.

  “For the moment, that may be a good idea,” she replied in spite of what she felt.

  He gazed at her a moment as if making a decision.

  * * *

  “Josh, this is amazing out here,” she said. She stood at the rail of the balcony with her arms resting on it. Wind blew her long, wavy blond locks. Her back was bare, her legs shapely, and she looked beautiful. His mouth went dry. He had done what she wanted and what he should, but it had taken self-control. He wanted her in his arms and in his bed tonight, and he felt certain he could kiss away her objections, but he didn’t want to go against her wishes.

  “You don’t have any vertigo, do you?” he asked.

  “No, I love standing here and looking at the city, down below as well as far away. This is a fantastic view, and I’m enjoying it.”

  “I’m glad,” he said, moving beside her and turning her to face him as he slipped an arm around her waist. “One kiss—just one, out here to remember this moment.”

  She didn’t object, but stood looking at him with eyes open wide. He tightened his arm around her and leaned down to kiss her, opening her mouth with his, his tongue going over hers. She held him tightly, kissing him eagerly, making him almost regret his decision to limit himself to only one kiss.

 

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