Heartstealer (Women of Character3

by Brannigan, Grace

  As the music began she waved a hand carelessly to indicate the seat beside her, but she felt anything but indifferent. His hair was neatly slicked back and his smoky gray shirt made his blue eyes seem more intense. She recalled the kiss they had shared and her insides melted. Michelle placed a long-necked bottle of beer on the bar in front of him.

  "I love music." Jacie said, tapping her toes to the music. She gave him a questioning glance. "And I love to dance. How about you?" She gave him a long, slow look.

  "I like to dance. I’ve been called pretty good."

  She swept her arm and indicated the empty dance floor. "I plan to dance the night away." She pushed her glass toward Michelle. "I think I need something to drink." She swiveled her chair so she faced him. "Care to join me?" she challenged, rising.

  "I’ll have to pass right now. I'm waiting for a phone call." His voice sounded husky and his eyes, well, was it her imagination or did they promise something?

  She tamped down her immediate disappointment.

  "Michelle, Jacie's next drink is on me. Get her a―" he raised his brows questioningly.

  "I've decided to switch over to soda," she supplied impishly. "I have a feeling I need my wits about me tonight."

  "Put an extra cherry in it," he said, lifting his beer and taking a swallow.

  She watched the strong column of Sloan's neck as he tipped his head back. Tanned and strong with a hint of a beard. She turned on her heel. "Thanks for the drink," she told him over her shoulder. "Now I'm going to get started on dancing the night away." On impulse, she looked back at Michelle. "Do you line dance?"

  "No," Michelle said, "but I‘d love to learn."

  "Well, come on then, I'm just in the mood to teach you." When Michelle hesitated she ran behind the bar and pulled the other girl out by the hand.

  "You don't mind, do you Sloan?" she called laughingly to him. Michelle sent him a questioning look and he waved her on.

  "Go ahead, I'll take care of the bar for now," he said.

  Quickly, Michelle pulled her apron off and tossed it toward the bar top as she joined her on the dance floor.

  Fleetingly, Jacie wondered if he really was waiting for a phone call or if it had been an excuse not to dance with her. Maybe she imagined that hint of a promise in his eyes.

  Never one to let country music go un-danced, she let the foot stomping, soul-stirring melodies take her over.

  She and Michelle started out side by side. She showed her the basic steps to line dance, and then they were off. Before she knew it, others had joined them, people she didn't even recall seeing in the bar. They formed two lines from one end of the dance floor to the other.

  After a time she took a breather and stood back to watch the dancers with satisfaction. Throwing back her head in pure enjoyment, she kept the clapping going in time with the music. The quiet night had turned into a hell-raising good time and everyone seemed game to join in.

  She looked over toward the bar and studied Sloan. He caught her watching him and she smiled slow and easy. There was a lull in the music and Michelle flitted past her.

  "I hear the phone," the other girl said on a breathless laugh. "It's probably for Sloan. I have to get back to the bar anyway, now that everyone's worked up a sweat and a thirst. You know how to get a party going, Jacie. That was fun."

  "So much fun," she agreed, "that I'm going to start it all over again."

  She moved across the dance floor and pushed the buttons on the jukebox and played more songs.

  Looking across the bar she noticed Sloan take the portable phone into a back room behind the bar. Part of her felt lighter. Apparently, he hadn't been making excuses to avoid dancing with her. She fairly danced across the floor and joined the others as some line-danced, others were in couples, and the remainder danced in groups as they pleased.

  The next song was slow, a favorite of hers by George Strait. Without warning, she felt hard fingers and a wide palm clasp her hand and slowly pull her around. She had danced with different male partners for the last hour, but she knew this time it would be special.

  Jacie whirled on her toes in a half circle and found Sloan behind her, his chest against her shoulder as they danced to the music. Her heart flipped, excruciatingly slow, and then beat so much faster and faster. He pulled her around to face him and they moved, breast-to-breast, her head tucked under his chin, her one hand captured in his, the other resting on his shoulder. She felt ready to burn up in his arms, but she tipped her head back briefly and smiled at him instead, automatically matching her steps to his. By the end of the dance she didn't want to stop.

  Ω

  Sloan heard the music change tempo and he reluctantly released Jacie. When she stepped back he saw her vibrant face and the question in her eyes. He couldn't refuse to answer the question there. She loved to dance, he had seen it as he watched her teach the other patrons intricate steps.

  "I’ve wanted to dance with you the last half hour." He’d finally decided he wanted the pleasure of holding her close. Following that thought with action he pulled her into his arms, inhaled the fresh scent that lingered in her hair. All his warnings about her to himself meant nothing. Life and energy fairly radiated from her, drawing him closer and closer. He wanted to discover more about Jacie, a woman who danced like a dream, who liked to keep life busy and energetic. She kept secrets that he wanted to unravel. He wondered for a brief moment if this was how his dad had felt back when he had met Sloan's mother.

  The surprise on her face when he pulled her back to him gave way to pleasure. Smoothly he twirled her to the faster music.

  "You’re smooth," she said, laughing with delight.

  "I feel like I’ve danced with you many times before." The tempo of the music sank down into his heart, his steps and movements attuned to her as he let himself drink in the beauty she radiated. His throat felt bone dry, his heart beat hard and loud in his chest, but he couldn't give her up, not even when the music stopped.

  She stood beside him, her shoulder leaning into his chest. He held onto her hand and he was surprised by its smooth texture, the fine, small bones beneath the skin.

  "For a woman who skydives and has strength in her hands," he mused, "you feel damned delicate."

  "That sounds like a compliment." She tilted her face up to him and his immediate thought was to kiss her, taste those lips again. Temptation in the form of liquid brown eyes stared up at him. He took in the faintest of freckles across her nose, the full red lips. He wanted to taste them and make her breath his own. He dropped a slow kiss on her smiling lips. She responded immediately and then pulled back.

  "I need a drink," she said.

  Sloan stepped back and led her to the bar, still holding her hand.

  Jacie took a long drink of her soda. "Sloan, I had no idea you were such a great dancer." She wiped her mouth with a napkin, her voice breathless. "I'd dance with you any time, Cowboy."

  "I don’t do it that often, but I do like to dance."

  "What other accomplishments are you hiding?" she asked playfully. "Where did you learn to dance like that?"

  "When I lived in the city. There's a lot of nightlife out there as I’m sure you know. The first year I lived there I was determined to sample all of it."

  "I know what you mean."

  She turned sideways and reached for her drink. "I’ve always been one to sample whatever was out there. I hate to miss out on any of the fun." She ran her finger around the edge of her glass. "I’ll have to say though, in the last year I’ve learned a bit of caution the hard way but I've never been tempted to give up the night life. That sounds corny." She looked around. "I think about you living here year round, living in such an isolated area. I don’t know if I’d like it."

  "Well, at least you’re honest."

  She smiled. "Sometimes to a fault. You probably see me as too brash, maybe too independent. I’m not a woman who wants to be taken care of most of the time." She gave a big sigh. "It’s a pity we can’t get to know each othe
r longer. I think it would definitely be interesting." She stepped away from the bar.

  "Where are you going, Jacie?" he said.

  She whirled to face him and continued walking backwards. "I'm all ready to start in again. I can't let that music go to waste." She held her hand out to Sloan and he didn’t refuse her. He couldn’t.

  Looking at her watch, Jacie decided midnight was time to call it a night. What fun they’d had! Everyone had loosened up, the place was still hopping, and she had been designated the dance teacher. She didn't mind at all. She loved people! Poor Michelle, though, would be staying until the party wound down. Looking at the other girl’s animated face, she had a feeling she didn’t mind.

  Knowing she had an early call in the morning to prepare for tomorrow's preliminary jumps, she walked toward the door and called good night as she went.

  "Jacie, hang on a minute." Sloan came up behind her. She had lost track of him in the last half hour and had assumed he’d left.

  As she pulled on her lightweight jacket he came up behind her and lifted her hair out from under the collar. She turned her head to thank him, but the words became lost as his fingers traced fleetingly along the sensitive skin of her neck. She felt that caress clear to her toes. She stared at his hands bemusedly. Did this man have fire in his fingertips?

  "Shall we?" he asked, opening the door.

  She lifted her face and a refreshing breeze washed across her face. "Have you ever been drunk on life? It's a great feeling."

  "Since I’ve known you Jacie, I’ve been asking myself all kinds of different questions. If the way I feel right now is drunk on life, I owe it to you. I enjoyed dancing with you."

  "It was fun getting everyone in a dancing mood." They walked along the now level road to her cabin. "Do you live in the main lodge?" she asked idly. "I know some of the ranch hands have rooms upstairs."

  "I have a cabin a little further up the mountain. There’s a side road before the cabins that goes up there."

  "How did you come up with the idea of Timber Falls? This entire vacation concept? Did you and James buy this place?"

  "Our father bought it back in the forties when land was dirt cheap. He didn’t move here until I was about four."

  "So you made the transition from working farm to resort?"

  "It’s still a working farm. The resort is pretty much James' baby. Mine is beef cattle."

  "It was your brother’s idea to have paying guests?"

  "Yes. In the beginning the resort guests paid for the ranch and cattle. We're at a point now where the cattle are paying for themselves and I'm expanding the breeding herd, trying out an experimental cholesterol-free beefer."

  Jacie was impressed. "I've read something of cholesterol-free beef. Seems like it would be a good idea for people with heart problems."

  "The idea is certainly catching on."

  "So you started importing guests?" she asked easily. "You don't strike me as a man who'd welcome strangers on his property."

  He shrugged. "I don't have too much to do with the guests."

  Jacie pondered his words. "That’s interesting. You were there when I skydived into the ranch, then you took me riding and here you are tonight, dancing and now walking me to my cabin." With her usual curiosity, she had to find out what he meant. "So you're here tonight because . . .."

  "What do you think?" he said simply. "Because of you."

  She had sought that answer but now that she had it, she dug her hands nervously into her jacket pockets.

  "Well, that’s pretty straightforward." The attraction made her feel vulnerable. He had deviated from his usual routine because of her. Logic warned her to retreat . . . yearning urged her to step closer. She wanted to kiss him again. That small kiss earlier had only whetted her interest.

  Sloan's hand clasped hers. She stopped and faced him. His fingers brushed wisps of hair away from her eyes and the light caress caused her heart to do a double beat.

  "I’d like to kiss you."

  "Nothing like following words with action," she murmured, her lips curving.

  He leaned forward and touched his mouth to hers.

  She closed her eyes, enjoying his touch, the sensation of his lips, the slight brush of his tongue along the rim of her lips.

  His lips left hers and she reluctantly opened her eyes. "I think you’re a straight shooter too, Jacie."

  "I try to be." Right now she felt muddled, unable to get the taste and feel of his lips out of her head. "I feel like I’m addicted," she admitted a little shakily. "Every time we kiss it kind of catches me off guard. I’ve never felt like this."

  "Yeah," he muttered. "I know what you mean."

  Jacie’s emotions were in a turmoil . . . emotions that had been on hold since her break up with Brad. Now with Sloan she kept thinking about giving in to the desire she felt for him.

  She walked the remaining distance to her cabin, climbed the porch stairs and sat on the metal glider. Drawing her legs up, she stared up at the sky. "The moon came out," she observed, her chin resting on her up-drawn knees. "I've never seen it so big. Right now I can't imagine going back to my small apartment with no mountains in sight." No Sloan.

  His voice was low-pitched and intimate, "Jacie, tell me about your life."

  She felt a faint stir of panic and breathed deeply in an attempt to dispel the flutter. "There's nothing to tell, I lead a pretty boring life."

  He walked up the steps and leaned against the deck rail. She could see his grin in the porch light. "I find that hard to believe coming from someone who jumps out of planes. Let me be the judge," he added coaxingly. "Tell me."

  The warmth and interest in his voice drew her in. "We’ve moved from subtly lethal kisses to even more dangerous territory."

  "Is that how you see sharing personal information?"

  She forced a bright smile. "Yes―but I'm not kidding, I do lead a boring life. I didn't always think so," she added thoughtfully.

  "What changed?" he queried.

  She chewed her lip. "My job changed, my life. I went from being an active professional to doing hardly anything at all. It was after my accident that the bottom seemed to drop out of my life." She halted the rush of words, hating the underlying bitterness. "God, that sounds self-pitying. It could have been worse, I could be dead."

  "What happened?"

  She looked at his silhouetted profile, familiar now with the quiet strength he exuded. She wanted to open up to him, let him know about her but part of her still felt frozen inside. "As you know my family's skydiving business specializes in cinematography, film stunts."

  "There’s nothing ordinary about that business from my viewpoint."

  She detected a trace of reserve in his voice. "You’re right, of course."

  "You travel a lot but you’re mostly based in New York?"

  "Yes, I've been all over the United States and a few places internationally."

  "It sounds exciting."

  Lifting one shoulder, she pushed her hair back with a careless hand. "I haven't done much of it lately."

  "Do you want to do resume that life?"

  She became still, thinking back over the last year, the hospital, the pain . . . her family. She grimaced. Her family.

  "I had an accident on a job, a freefall gone wrong. Since then everyone's pretty much avoided that question. I've been recuperating and just hiding out." She made the admission honestly, threading shaky fingers through her hair. "My friend Bonnie was another one I’ve been hiding behind, shielding my emotions even from myself. My family has been careful not to talk about that mistake in Venezuela. Something happened with my chute. I should have checked it one last time but I got careless. Since then, I’ve been afraid I couldn't handle the reality of my job." She met his glance directly. "I'm taking this on a wing and a prayer, hoping I'm not jeopardizing my job here by telling you this. This job is my first assignment since the accident. I've done jumps, but not a real job."

  "I figured something was up with you but I w
asn’t sure what."

  "I’m still the same professional I’ve always been, but again, everything is different. I have to get back into the routine so I can feel like I fit in the business again."

  "Your brother seems to keep a close eye on you."

  She grimaced. "Yes, it’s a blessing and a curse. Con hasn’t left me alone for a minute. It got to the point I felt as if he was babysitting me." She lifted her chin. "I love my family, but they're too protective."

  "So you returned to work."

  "I had to. I felt like I was in limbo. Con probably realized that if I didn't get back into skydiving, I might never do it again. As it is, I'm afraid I've lost that edge." She felt vulnerable to have revealed so much. "I've let fear creep in." She threw him a quick glance. "When I did this jump into Timber Falls, I almost backed out."

  "How did you manage it, Jacie?"

  She folded her arms and clenched her jaw. "I had to. I couldn't admit defeat."

  "There's no shame in admitting you're scared. I don't know if it's something I’d ever do," he admitted.

  She crooked one brow and smiled at him. "You would if you had to, or if you wanted to badly enough."

  "Sounds like skydiving's been part of your life too long to just let it go."

  She emitted a half laugh. "I have four brothers in the business. There was a time I couldn't imagine doing anything else. At fourteen I did my first solo freefall. I don't know that I ever made a conscious decision to make it my career. I just did it; it happened."

  "How did your parents feel about it?"

  "Well, my mom had no problem with it, she's the one who started the business, but Dad wasn't keen on his only daughter taking up skydiving. Even so, he never tried to stop me." A smile flitted across her lips. "Dad is our manager, though in recent years Con has taken over most of that responsibility. I've been hell-bent on skydiving most of my life. My family is giving me space to sort things out."

  "You seem to be working through your fears," he said slowly.

  "I can't imagine you being afraid of anything, Sloan."

  The rocking of the glider stopped. She looked down and saw his boot against the metal leg.