“Are you naked under that?” she asked in return, tone teasing, her hands slipping beneath his jacket to wrap around him, branding him through the cotton of his shirt.
“Yes,” he hissed, then resumed the kiss that went on and on, pushing want and need into every fiber of his body. His world contracted to Katrina, her taste, her feel, her scent. His hands roamed, while his lips savored, and her lithe body imprinted itself on his skin.
A woman’s laughter penetrated his consciousness, as a group of people wandered onto the deck.
Reed forced himself to let go, fisted his hands and gritted his teeth, struggling hard to bring himself back under control.
When he found his voice, it was a mere rasp. “What are we doing?” What was he doing? What on earth had gotten into him?
Her hands were still braced on his chest, and her lips curved into a secret smile. “I believe it’s called kissing.”
It was so tempting to fall back into the moment. But he couldn’t allow it. This chemistry between them flew out of control the instant he let his guard down.
“What is the matter with me?” he ground out.
Why couldn’t he leave her alone? She was a family friend and a neighbor, soon to be an in-law. She wasn’t some temporary pickup in a honky-tonk.
She eased away, straightening the strap of her dress. “Are you saying ‘not here’?”
He wished it were that simple. “I’m saying not ever.”
Her smile faltered, and he immediately felt like a cad. Bad enough he’d accosted her. Now he’d insulted her. He hadn’t meant it the way it sounded. He raked a hand through his short hair, putting more space between them. “I’m sorry.”
She pressed her lips together. “No problem.” She made to move around him.
He reached out. “Katrina.”
But she brushed his hand away. “No need for an explanation.”
He snagged her wrist, stopping her. “It’s not that I don’t want—”
“You’re embarrassing me, Reed.” Her tone was brittle; her crackling blue gaze staring straight ahead.
He leaned down, lips close to her ear, attempting to make it better. “Listen to me.”
“No.” She tried to free her wrist.
“I want you, Katrina,” he confessed. “I want you very, very badly.”
“I can tell.”
He mustered his strength. “Give me a break. Your sister is marrying my brother.”
She pinned him with a glare. “Is this some archaic chivalry thing?”
“Yes.” For want of a better term, it was.
She leaned into him, the tip of her breast brushing his arm. “Well, you might want to get over that.”
“Katrina,” he warned on a growl.
“Because I want you, too, Reed. Very, very badly.”
His hand went lax at her frank admission. It gave her a moment to escape, and she took it.
Five
Katrina couldn’t believe the way she’d taunted Reed. She’d never said anything remotely that bold to a man.
She made beeline back to the Jacobs’ table, her emotions vacillating between rattled, embarrassed and just plain annoyed.
She was a grown woman. Where did he get off protecting her from herself? As though she wasn’t capable of making up her own mind? She knew her sister was marrying his brother. So what? She and Reed were adults.
From the empty round table she caught a glimpse of him far across the ballroom. His gaze scanned the cavernous room, stopped on her and he immediately headed her way. She took a bracing sip of her champagne.
Annoyed. She was definitely going with annoyed.
Her brother Travis dropped down in the chair beside her. “What’s this I hear about you being afraid of horses?” he asked.
“What’s this I hear about you riding bulls again?”
“Who told you that?”
“Mandy said you did the rodeo down in Pine Lake.”
“At least I’m not afraid of them.”
“You ought to be. You’re not eighteen anymore.”
“Nice deflection,” Mandy put in as she took the chair on the opposite side of Katrina. Caleb pulled out the one next to her.
“Music’s nice,” Katrina observed, turning her attention to Mandy.
“I could teach you to ride in under a week,” said Travis.
“A nice eclectic mix of songs,” Katrina noted to no one in particular. “That’s my preference for an evening like this.”
“Excuse me?” an unfamiliar male voice sounded just behind her.
Katrina turned to see a rather handsome man in his mid-thirties, his hand held out to her, palm up.
“Would you care to—” The man’s gaze abruptly flicked upward. “Never mind,” he muttered, dropping his hand. “I’m sorry.” Then he turned away.
Katrina watched his retreat in puzzlement. Not that she wanted to dance. Her ankle was starting to ache. But it was very strange behavior.
“Thing is,” Travis carried on in a firm voice. “There’s absolutely no reason for you to be afraid of them.”
Katrina turned back, knowing she wasn’t going to be able to avoid the topic forever. But as she turned, she met Reed’s hard gaze. He’d planted himself on the chair directly across from her, his face twisted into a tight frown. She guessed that explained the would-be dance partner’s abrupt departure.
“You’re in pretty good shape,” Travis continued talking to Katrina. “And you must have decent balance.”
“Decent,” Katrina agreed, still watching Reed. The meddler.
“You might want to tackle that chicken fear, too,” said Mandy, a gentle teasing note in her tone.
Katrina took a long swallow of her champagne. It was her third glass tonight, and she noted the alcohol was putting a pleasant lethargy in her limbs. Reed’s expression began to look faintly amusing, and the company of her siblings didn’t seem quite as intimidating as usual.
Abigail arrived and took the chair next to Reed. “What are we talking about?” She glanced to the faces around the table.
Travis spoke up. “Katrina’s irrational fear of Colorado.”
“It’s not a fear,” she defended. “More…” She paused to find the right word. “A distaste.”
“That’s silly,” said Abigail. “What’s not to love around here? The mountains, the trees, the clear air, the clean water.”
“The dust,” said Katrina, polishing off her champagne. She glanced around for a waiter. Hang the calories. She wanted to maintain this buzz.
“You get used to the dust,” said Mandy.
“You’re missing my point.” Katrina’s tone was sharp enough that her siblings sat back in surprise. A little voice inside her told her to shut up, but just then a waiter came by, offering her a fresh glass of champagne, and she knew this was the day to go for it.
She accepted a fourth glass.
“Then what is your point?” Travis demanded.
In her peripheral vision, she saw Reed direct his frown at her brother.
“I don’t want to change for Colorado,” she carried blithely on. “I want Colorado to change for me.”
“Now that’s what I call a diva,” said Travis.
“Travis,” Mandy objected.
“Is that what you all think of me?” Katrina knew they did, but this was the first time she’d brought it out into the open.
Travis opened his mouth to speak, but Caleb intoned in a low warning. “Travis.”
Katrina’s champagne glass was suddenly removed from her hand. Startled, she glanced down and realized Reed had leaned across the table to take it from her. He set it down out of her reach.
“Hey,” she protested.
“Excuse me while I put on the kid gloves,” Travis drawled.
“She’s your sister,” said Caleb.
“And that means I get to have an honest conversation with her.”
“Not tonight, it doesn’t,” said Reed. Somehow, he had appeared by her side.
Katrina glared at Travis. “I am not a diva.” She knew divas, and Travis had obviously never met one. “Just because I don’t happen to like horses or Holsteins or cowboys.”
“Your family is full of cowboys,” Travis pointed out.
“But you all clean up nice,” chirped Mandy in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.
Caleb backed up her effort, making a show of raising his glass. “Let’s hear it for clean cowboys.”
Abigail and Mandy immediately played along. “Clean cowboys.”
Travis grimaced, but Caleb stared him down until he gave in and raised his glass.
Katrina quickly stretched out to snag her own. “Too bad they don’t stay that way long.”
Everyone groaned, but it quickly turned to good-natured laughter.
She took a big swallow.
Reed muttered darkly in her ear. “You about done?”
“Done what?” she asked tartly, reminding herself that she was angry with him. It hadn’t been very gentlemanly of him to break off their kisses. Then again, he’d kind of stood up for her against Travis just now.
“Abigail,” said Reed. “I think Katrina’s ready for bed.”
A saucy comeback was on the tip of Katrina’s tongue. But when she swiveled to deliver it, she caught Reed’s thunderous expression. And she wasn’t quite brave enough to embarrass him.
“Are you going to wrap my ankle?” she asked him instead.
“No.”
“But it’s sore.”
“You’ve had too much champagne.
“It’s still sore.”
She wanted to get him up to the hotel room, alone, where she would… Okay, she wasn’t exactly sure what she’d do, but at least they could talk. This idea that they were going to nobly fight their attraction to each other because of Mandy and Caleb was ludicrous.
“Wrap her ankle?” Abigail asked.
“She strained her tendon dancing,” said Reed. “I’ve been using my herb wrap.”
“Crackerjack cure,” said Caleb.
“You hurt your ankle?” asked Abigail.
“It’s getting better,” said Katrina, somewhat surprised that Mandy hadn’t already shared the information with their sister.
Mandy reached out and took Katrina’s hand. “Maybe you should head back to the hotel. You’ve probably had enough dancing.”
“Sure,” Katrina agreed, playing the dutiful baby sister. Then she glanced innocently up at Reed. “You’ll take me back?”
His jaw tightened. “Abigail? Are you ready to go?”
“Absolutely,” said Abigail, and Katrina heard her rise from her chair. “I’m exhausted.”
Since Katrina and Abigail were sharing a room, there’d be no private conversation with Reed tonight. But Katrina wasn’t giving up. Tomorrow, they’d all troop back to the ranches. Eventually, she and Reed would find themselves alone.
Katrina soon discovered that things Reed didn’t want to happen, didn’t happen. After the charity ball in Lyndon, she and Mandy had spent a couple of days at their own ranch. But her sister soon found a reason to return to Terrells’, and Katrina found an excuse to go with her.
There, Reed was polite but resolute. He spent his days in the far reaches of the ranch, and his evenings in the company of Caleb and Mandy. If Katrina asked him a direct question, he answered. And he continued to wrap her ankle each evening, but he was careful never to get caught alone with her.
So she was surprised on a midday to hear his voice on the porch of the ranch house. She’d run through a workout and a few dance routines in the basement rec room this morning and was now looking for Mandy.
“It’ll only take me a few hours,” Reed was saying.
“That’s not the point,” Caleb returned. “We have hands for those kinds of jobs.”
“I have no intention of spending my entire afternoon in the office.”
“Once we get things set up with a manager, you’ll be able to do or not do any old job you want around here.”
“Good.” Reed’s tone was implacable. “Today I want to fix the well pump at Brome Ridge.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Deal with it. I’ll probably be late getting back tonight.” His boot heels clunked on the porch, and Katrina took her chance.
She burst through the front door. “Did you say Brome Ridge?” she asked Reed.
He stopped dead, as if frozen to the floor.
“I’ve been wanting to get up there before I leave,” she rattled on. “I’ve only got a couple of days left. Would you mind?” she smiled brightly.
“Forget it,” said Reed.
“Take her along,” said Caleb.
Reed shot his brother a glare. “It’s a working trip, not a picnic.”
“I won’t get in the way,” Katrina promised. Trapped in a pickup, Reed would have to talk to her. She’d be heading back to New York City very soon, and she wasn’t ready to pretend their attraction had never happened.
“You always get in the way.” Reed’s glare turned on her, his gray eyes hard as slate.
“Quit being such a jerk,” Caleb put in. “Go ahead, Katrina.”
“Back off, Caleb.”
“Which truck?” asked Katrina.
Caleb nodded. “Parts are in the back of the green one.”
“She’s not going,” Reed ground out.
But Katrina was already on her way down the stairs, heading across the wide driveway turnaround to the green pickup truck.
She hopped in the passenger side, slammed the door shut, and watched Reed argue with Caleb a few minutes longer. Finally, he turned, stalking across the driveway toward the pickup.
He yanked open the passenger door. “Get out.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
She nodded to where Caleb was staring at them from the top of the stairs. “Your brother thinks you’ve gone insane.”
“You are not going to do this to me,” he vowed.
“Do what?” She mustered up an expression of calm innocence. “What is it you think I’m doing here, Reed?”
He blinked, a split second of uncertainty crossing his face.
“All I want to do is talk,” she pressed. “I’m going to be gone in a couple days. It may be years before I’m back. You’re a nice guy. You helped me with my ankle. You built me a stationary bike. You don’t want a chance to say goodbye?”
He stared at her in silence, and she could read his hesitation. He was wondering if he’d imagined her intense attraction to him, their near-combustible chemistry, the fact that they shouldn’t be allowed to be alone together if they didn’t want it to race out of control.
He wasn’t imagining a thing. But she didn’t have to tell him that.
“Do you think I can’t keep my hands off you?” She kept her tone light and teasing, even though nervous energy was churning its way through her stomach. “Is your ego really that big?”
His jaw snapped tight, and he stepped back, abruptly slamming the car door.
Katrina let out a breath of relief.
He yanked open the driver’s door, dropped into the seat, started the engine and peeled out of the driveway, leaving a rooster tail of dust and small stones.
Katrina rocked against the passenger door, then flew upright. She grappled with her seat belt, fastening it tight and low across her hips.
Neither of them spoke for a good half hour as they wound their way along the rutted dirt-and-grass road up through the trees to where the pastures fanned out on the higher rangelands. Reed shifted the truck into four-wheel drive, and Katrina hung on as they traversed a shallow creek.
“Is this going to be a long, silent ride?” she finally asked.
“This was always going to be a long silent ride. I expected to be alone.”
“Well, good news,” she announced brightly. “I can make small talk and entertain you.”
He shifted to a lower gear, pointing the truck up a steep, muddy rise. “I guess the cocktail-party circu
it had to come in handy at some point.”
“That’s where you want to go? Insulting me?”
“I don’t want to go anywhere. And it was an observation, not an insult.”
“You’re lying.”
“Okay,” he allowed. “It was a joke.”
“It wasn’t funny.”
He quirked a half smile. “I thought it was.”
“You’re not a very nice man, Reed Terrell.”
He looked her way for a long moment.
She glanced to the rutted road, to Reed, and back again. There was a curve coming up. She waited for him to turn his attention to driving. “Uh, Reed.”
“I’m not a nice man,” he confirmed softly. “And you should remember that.” Then he glanced out the windshield and made an abrupt left turn.
Katrina was forced to hold on tight again. “I’m not afraid of you, Reed.”
“That’s okay. I’m scared enough for the both of us.”
Katrina didn’t know how to respond to that. The idea of Reed being afraid of anything was patently absurd.
A long time later, the truck rocked to a halt on the dirt road, an aspen grove fanning out on the downhill side, and a steeper hill running up the other.
Reed shut off the engine. “We’ll have to walk it from here.”
“Walk?”
He pushed the driver’s door open. “Unless you want to wait here. I shouldn’t be more than a few hours.”
“No, no.” She reached for her own door handle. “Walking is fine.” Luckily, she’d worn comfortable runners. Her midcalf, low-rise tights weren’t perfect for bushwhacking, neither was her tank top, but she gamely hopped from the seat.
Reed retrieved a worn leather tool belt from the box of the truck, strapping it around his waist, stuffing a hammer, tape measure, screwdrivers, wrenches and pliers into the loops and pockets. Then he tucked some lengths of rod and pipe beneath his arm, hoisted out a battered red toolbox and turned for a trail that wound up the side of the hill.
Katrina quickly fell into step with him. “You want me to carry anything?”
He snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“I was just trying to be helpful.”
His long strides were incredibly efficient, and she had to work to keep up.
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