Читать книгу Lone Star Bride - Carolyn Davidson - Страница 12

“What went on out there?” Hank asked, his eyes sharp as they scanned Jamie’s face, catching him right after breakfast when Alexis had taken her leave.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” And yet he was pretty clear on the gossip the men had carried to Hank this morning. Jamie had been the focus of bad jokes and sidelong glances from the men, and he’d be a fool if he didn’t recognize that they were wondering what had gone on, what had brought the chuck wagon and its occupants, and the lone rider that followed, back to the barn more than an hour later than was expected.

“You know damn well what I’m asking you,” Hank said. “The men said they saw you riding off toward the stream and when Slim looked back, Alexis was riding hell-bent for leather after you. You were late getting back to the barn, and Cookie’s not talking. So I’m asking you. Did you spend time alone with my girl?”

“Why don’t you ask her? She was the one who followed me, not the other way around.” He took a deep breath and met Hank’s dark gaze. “Yeah, I spent a few minutes alone with her, but she’s just as pure and virtuous as she was when she rode out to the north forty. I made her unroll her blanket near me the night she spent out there, so I could keep an eye on her, and we talked. Of course, there were half a dozen men within hearing distance, and I smelled like a horse and cow patties, so I doubt I was very appealing to a woman of her caliber. I’d suggest again that you ask her.”

“I did.” Hank gritted his teeth and then grinned. “She’s a scamp, James. Loves to lead men around by the nose, and I think she sees you as a challenge. I want to know why she followed you to the stream.”

“I can’t answer for her, and I won’t try,” Jamie said flatly. “But I’m smart enough to keep myself in the clear, Hank. I’m not looking to have you pointing a gun my way. I’m not messing with your girl. At least I’m not trying to get into her bed. I think a woman like Alex is better suited to marriage than a quick roll in the hay.”

“Well, that’s about as blunt as you can get. You got plans to marry the girl?”

“That’s not what I said. I’m not sure she’d go along with the idea anyway.” Jamie dropped to the top step and leaned against the corner post of the porch roof.

“Maybe I’ll ask her what she thinks of the idea,” Hank said with a measuring look. “You ready to settle down yet, Webster?”

“I’ve got a job to do here. I’m not about to get tangled up with a woman, no matter how appealing she is. Ask me that question again in a couple of years.”

“Hey, boss. What do you want done with those yearlings?” Woody approached the porch and posed his query in James’s direction.

“I’ll be right out. I’d say we ought to put them in the far pasture, keep them separated from the others while we work with them.”

“What are your plans?” Hank asked, his interest aroused by James’s words.

“Nothing unusual. Just getting them used to a bit and bridle. Leading them around in circles and letting them know what a human can do for them.” He rose from the steps and turned to face Hank.

“I found out that horses, especially young ones, are a lot like women. They need a bit of pampering, a lot of coaxing and a steady hand on the bit. It takes several months to turn a yearling into an animal that has learned how to respond to his owner, or trainer. But, the lessons are worth the time it takes. I’d like to use Alexis to help with the job, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Hank said expansively. “It’ll be good for her to have the responsibility, and she loves those babies out there anyway. Are you going to ask her about it, or shall I?”

“I will, soon as I get a chance,” James said. He set off after Woody, his mind was already racing ahead to the dozen or so yearlings that awaited him and to weighing the difficulties inherent in this whole plan.

To be asked by the foreman to be in the thick of a training regime, she would recognize that there would be problems with jealousy, with those who had done this task in other years. But James had already decided the final result of using the girl for his program would be worth the risk he took.

Not that he feared the men causing an overt problem, but his own interest in her was the challenge. Being with her on a daily basis would be hard on his patience. The urge to be alone with her, to touch her, was growing by the day.

Hell, by the minute. Working closely with her would be a mixed blessing, he thought as he left Woody and headed to the barn. It would lighten the workload when it came to the training sessions, and at the same time cause him a lot of trouble. Just keeping his hands to himself was problem enough.

She tempted him, as no other woman had. Not even those back in his early days when he was trying his wings. “I was a genuine scalawag,” he murmured to himself.

“Who says so?” From behind him, Alex had spoken and he stiffened, halting the movement of his hands, currycomb held upright.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, even as his heart began a rapid pace.

“Dad said you wanted to talk to me.” Lifting limpid eyes to his, her smile one of a cat set on mischief, she waited.

“I did. I do,” he said, and then turned from her. He could think better when she wasn’t right in front of him.

She tapped his shoulder. “Jamie, are you mad at me? Or is this a bad time for me to talk to you?”

“Neither,” he said. “Wait till I finish with this horse.”

She moved from behind him, and as if his hearing had grown more sensitive, he heard her progress as she walked to where a bench had been built against the wall. Distinctly, he heard the sound of wood shifting as she sat, knew the sound of her boots on the dirt behind him and with an added sense of smell, caught a whiff of the soap she used.

Damn, the woman was going to drive him crazy. His hands worked automatically as he cleaned his horse, but he cut short the process, working quickly on the stud’s mane and then turning him loose in the corral.

Looking back down the long aisle, he felt the heat of her gaze touch him, wished for a moment that the sunshine would light the interior of the barn, the better to see the young woman who waited for him. And then he stalked back to where she sat, stopping in front of her, hands on hips, as if he were fitting this conversation into a tight schedule, and she was but a minor detail on his agenda.

“I’d like to offer you a job,” he said briefly. “I spoke to your father and he said to ask you about it.”

She tilted her head back, the better to see his face. “If you’d sit down next to me, it might work better, boss. What’s your problem?”

He spoke without thinking, his voice harsh. “You, Miss Alexis. You’re my problem.”

“What have I done?” She sounded truly perplexed and he frowned.

“You’re a part of this ranch, and I’ll have to work closely with you if we go ahead with this project. The whole problem is, I have a powerful urge to pick you up and take you to the hayloft and spend a couple of hours with you, finding out—”

She held up a hand to halt his words. “That’s enough, I think.”

He watched as her throat moved, knew she swallowed with difficulty and felt a moment of triumph as he realized he’d shocked her. Maybe given her food for thought. And yet, he’d need to watch his step, lest Hank come after him.

He sat down next to Alexis then, their thighs almost touching, the warmth of her body reaching for him like the sunshine on a summer day. “All right,” he said. “Let’s start over.” He cleared his throat and consciously kept his eyes forward. “I’d like you to work with the yearlings, follow a program I’ve set up for their training. Three or four hours a day should do it.”

She was silent and he allowed himself to toss her a sidelong glance. Maybe she wasn’t interested, or perhaps she didn’t want to work alongside him.

The look of rapt attention she shot his way changed his mind. “You’re kidding. You want me to work with the yearlings? You’ll really let me have a hand in training them?”

“If you want to,” he answered, aware now that it was an idea that appealed to her. Maybe even enough so as to put herself in his vicinity daily, giving him jurisdiction over her movements for the morning hours.

“If I want to?” She sighed the words. “I’ve already told you, early on, how I feel about spending time with the young horses. It’s only a dream job come to life, Jamie. I love those yearlings. Working with them would be a pleasure.”

“How about working with me?” he asked. “Does that qualify as a pleasure?”

She eyed him soberly. “I think that all depends on you. Can you keep your hands to yourself?”

He grinned. “Yeah, I think so. At least I’ll try.”

“You don’t sound very sure of that, mister. And I’m not in the market for any hanky-panky with the foreman.”

“I don’t go in for hanky-panky. If I set my sights on you, it won’t be for fun. But don’t worry, sweetheart. When the time comes, you’ll know it, up front. I don’t play games when I’m dead serious, and I have a notion you’d require a little more attention than a new job or a horse I’d like to own.”

Alexis’s eyes flashed fire at him. “I’m not sure I like being compared to a horse.”

She’d picked apart his statement. He might have known she would. And his natural good humor came to the forefront. “You need a firm hand, just like a frisky mare, sweetheart, but other than that, I can’t see that you resemble a horse. Except that you’re long-legged and slim, and you move with a sort of elegance.”

As if he’d spoken words that were unplanned, he rose and looked toward the bench where she still sat. “Now, I suspect you’ll think I’ve called you a mare, instead of a woman,” he said, his smile aimed in her direction.

She shook her head. “I’m not sure what I think. I’m still trying to digest the ‘elegance’ remark. No one’s ever called me elegant before. I think I kinda like it.”

“Yeah,” he said, the word drawled slowly, as if it stuck to his tongue. “I like it, too, ma’am. I surely do.”

The silhouette of a man filled the back door as Hank Powers strode across the threshold. “What’s going on?” he asked heartily.

“I just got a new job,” Alexis answered. “The foreman wants me to help him work with the yearlings. Is that all right with you, Dad?”

“He’s the boss,” Hank said. “And if you want the job, it looks to me like it’s yours, Alex.”

She stood quickly and went to where he stood, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Dad. You know this is something I’d really like to do.” She paused and her voice dropped to a lower tone. “Did you have anything to do with it?” she asked, as if she were suddenly suspicious.

Hank shook his head. “Nope. Jamie told me he wanted you and asked if I objected. I told him to ask you himself.” He curled one arm around his daughter’s waist. “I’m glad he did, since it seems to make you happy.” His gaze swept to James. “Just don’t let her try to do anything she’s not capable of. Though I don’t know what that would be. My girl is pretty well-equipped to handle herself around here. So long as the work isn’t too heavy for her, I’ll rest easy.”

“My main concern is keeping her away from anyone who might give her a hard time, given her tendency to flirt a bit,” James said. “A couple of your men are pretty set on courting her, you know.”

“She can handle that,” Hank said quickly. “At least, she has, so far. The men know she’s only friendly, not flirting with them.”

James shrugged. “Whatever you say. I’ll keep an eye out, anyway.” He looked at Alexis, whose smile was brilliant, now that the training had been approved officially. “You ready to start?” he asked.

“Whenever you say, boss.” She almost shivered with anticipation, he thought.

“Now’s as good a time as any.” He motioned toward the back barn door and she followed his silent order, leaving her father with another brief kiss on his cheek in farewell. James watched as she walked ahead of him, and felt Hank’s gaze as if it were a hot branding iron. With a sudden movement, he turned to face the man.

“You got a problem with me, Hank?”

As if he swallowed his objections, Hank was silent for a moment, then shook his head. “I always worry about my girl, Jamie. She’s all I’ve got left in this world that really means anything to me. Just don’t hurt her.”

“I’m not in the habit of giving women a hard time,” James returned sharply. “I won’t be making an exception where Alexis is concerned.”

Hank’s face grew stern. “Just consider yourself warned,” he said harshly. “She’s got a soft spot for you.”

James couldn’t have stopped the grin that twisted his lips any more than he could have halted a runaway train. “I’ll bear that in mind,” he said, forcing a sober expression to rest on his face, hiding the last semblance of his smile. With long strides, he followed Alexis, who had already crossed the corral and opened the gate into the pasture.

“Wait for me,” he called, and was rewarded by her quick wave as she passed through the opening, holding the gate for his approach.

“I wasn’t going anywhere without you,” she told him, tilting her head to one side as he neared. “What was my father saying to you?”

“Just warning me about hurting you. I think he’s afraid I have ideas about you.”

“What sort of ideas? I’m sure not afraid of you.” She sounded exasperated, he thought, and looked even more so. “He tries to make me into a shrinking violet, Jamie. I’m a woman, capable of making my own choices, and he won’t get that through his head.”

James grinned down at her as they walked farther into the pasture, heading for half a dozen yearlings standing beneath a tree. “Don’t fault him for being protective, Alex. I’d be even worse if you were my daughter. And trust me, I’m very happy that you’re not. I’ll admit my feelings toward you are not fatherly.” He sobered as he watched her expression turn watchful.

“I’ll repeat it, Alexis. I was a scalawag. There was no other word for me, and I suspect your father recognizes that.”

She smiled then, as if she thought he was joking with her, and then laughed aloud, the sound of her amusement ringing like the wind chimes on the back porch. He didn’t attempt to hide his reaction, his arm reaching to rest across her shoulders as he drew her to a halt next to him, his action restrained, resisting the temptation she offered.

“Chet tells me you’re very good with the horses, and I’ll admit I’ve noticed myself that you seem to have a special touch. But I don’t know what your experience is, and I’ve got some set ideas of my own. I don’t want to go any closer,” he explained. “I’m gonna rope that black colt on the right, and he’ll spook if we sneak up on him.”

“All right,” she said softly, watching as he uncoiled his lariat and let it lie in a circle at his feet. With a quick motion he had it spinning, and in another moment it was sailing through the air, only to settle gently over the head of the colt in question. The horse jerked against the rope and James held it fast, drawing the animal toward him slowly.

At the same time he walked forward, Alexis close by his side, and his voice took on a crooning quality as he talked to the graceful, black creature he wooed. “You’re a beautiful piece of horseflesh, boy. Just come on over here and I’ll scratch your ears for you.”

“You’re very good at this,” Alexis murmured quietly as the colt eyed the pair of them and then, as if drawn by an invisible cord, walked haltingly toward them.

James reached out his hand, letting the horse smell his palm, then turned it to rub with affection beneath the horse’s chin. His fingernails scratched gently there and then traveled up to a spot between the colt’s ears. His voice spoke soft words of encouragement as he stroked the dark head, a never-ceasing river of sounds that seemed to quiet the animal, putting him into a sort of trance.

It worked every time, James thought triumphantly. Gaining the animal’s trust was the most important part of the whole procedure, and letting him know you wouldn’t harm him was a big part of it. The old theory of the rider being the master was harsh and often damaged a young horse beyond repair.

James thought of his father, how the man had treated his animals. A better teacher could not have been found, he decided, recalling his early days when his father had instructed him in the care of his livestock. The same rules applied to any creature. Kindness went a long way to forming a good relationship.

His glance fell on the woman at his side. Maybe that was the secret with women, too.

Alexis reached slowly for the colt, her hand rubbing his neck, her head beside his, her words soft, luring him closer. And he obliged, leaning into her a bit, then tossing his head and snuffling at her shoulder, as if he imprinted her scent in his memory. She laughed, tossing her head in a like motion, her long hair flying, only to settle in a pale cloud over her shoulders again.

She was a beauty, James thought. Her face was animated with pleasure and her body almost vibrating with the joy of handling the colt. He gave her the end of his lariat and motioned with his hand that she should lead the colt in a circle.

Without hesitation, she obeyed, allowing only a short bit of rope between herself and the horse. And then, as if she had watched him work the same procedure, she let the rope slip through her fingers a bit, until a greater length separated her from the animal she led, till the colt was circling her at her silent command, prancing around her, tossing his head and kicking up his heels as if he would ignore the fact that he was connected to her by a rope.

“Pick up your speed,” Jamie said, his voice a low undertone, but audible to her.

She drew the colt in closer and increased his tempo by pacing him herself, tugging the rope to urge him into a trot. He obeyed and she called out to him, encouraging him as his hooves scattered small bits of pebbles and grass behind him.

James was struck with the woman’s skill and her beauty, the quick movements of her hands and the way she’d so readily taken to the colt. Between the two of them, they presented a picture of graceful movement he could only admire. And then, as if he felt warmed by another’s gaze, James looked back at the barn.

Hank stood in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, a smile on his lips and pride on his features. With a grin, he sent James a silent salute, and then turned to go back in the barn, leaving the two to their privacy.

“You have a name for this one yet?” James asked quietly.

Alexis looked surprised as she glanced his way, and then her attention returned to the colt, as if she were embarrassed. “Who told you about that?”

“Your father. He said you can’t help but name every living thing on the ranch. In fact, he said they’ve used the names you’ve chosen more often than not.”

She rubbed her forehead against the colt’s jaw. “He’s Black Thunder, out of Black Lightning. And don’t you dare laugh at me. Naming the animals is something I like to do.”

“I wouldn’t think of it,” James said soberly, although his heart sang with the pleasure this woman brought to his days. “Black Thunder sounds like a name suitable for a colt who’s going to make a name for himself one of these days.”

“His formation? Or his disposition?” she asked, drawing up the lead line and walking to where James stood, the horse at her shoulder.

“Both. He’ll breed true, I’ll warrant. He’s built like a champion, and if he keeps that sweet temper of his on a leash, he’ll make a good addition to the ranch’s breeding program. Nothing worse than a mean stud on the place. They’re hell to breed. The mares don’t like them.”

“Mean is a nasty word, no matter who it’s applied to,” Alex said sharply. “That goes for men as well as animals.”

“You sound like you’ve been acquainted with a few.” And if she had, what would he do about it?

“I’ve seen a few in action,” she admitted quietly. “Had a couple of bruises in my time.”

“What did your father do about that?”

She shot him a look of defiance. “Nothing. I didn’t tell him about it. I told you already, I can take care of myself.”

“Who?” he asked harshly. And was rewarded by a look of surprise.

“No one you know,” she said, ending the conversation neatly.

“If anyone on the ranch—”

“No one here would give me a bad time,” she said, interrupting his threat. “Now forget it, Jamie. It’s not worth talking about.”

“It is when your safety is involved. I won’t have you molested by anyone.”

“Not even you?” Her grin was quick, her eyes flashing a challenge.

“Not even me. I’ll never molest you, Alex. I might coax you a little, even try a bit of seduction, but I’ll never cause you pain.”

“You’ll never leave bruises?” she asked innocently.

“I didn’t say that,” he told her. “Sometimes a little—” He halted suddenly, thinking better of what he’d almost said. “Never mind. Forget I suggested such a thing.”

She looked curious. “I think I’d like to hear about it one day. Don’t forget where we were when I ask you to continue with this.”

“I think you’d better let that colt off the lariat and let me rope you another student, ma’am,” he told her. “You’re about to get in over your head.”

“I’m almost twenty years old, Jamie. Don’t treat me like a child.”

“I don’t intend to,” he said. “But I’m almost thirty, so just don’t tempt me, sweetheart.”

He thought she smiled as she turned away, loosening the lariat to take it off the colt’s neck. She handed it back to him, watched the colt as he kicked his heels as if he celebrated his freedom, and then raced away across the pasture.

The rope settled over the head of a dark-legged filly, a true blood bay, and with a series of soft entreaties and a steady hand on his rope, he coaxed her closer, walking toward the filly as he spent his litany of praise on her. She sniffed at his hand, apparently judged him acceptable, and followed him to where Alexis stood waiting.

“She’s a beauty,” he told the woman who had eyes only for the filly. “I don’t think she’ll give you any trouble. She seems eager to please if you handle her right.”

“I’ll do my best,” she said, tossing him a look of scorn, as if his words had cast doubt on her skills. “This is more fun than work, anyway,” she told him, her face glowing. She tossed her head as she walked with the filly to an open spot, away from the trees and the man who stood beneath their branches.

The ritual of training he’d instigated with the colt was repeated, and in twenty minutes time, Alexis brought the prancing animal to him, her smile one of triumph as she awaited his response to her silent challenge.

“You catch on quick, ma’am. Sure you haven’t done this before?” he asked her. “Got a name for this one?”

“Of course I’ve done this before,” she answered quickly. “But I just called it playing with the horses, teaching them what they need to know. Then finally getting them used to a saddle and having weight on their back. Dad says I’m better than most men he’s seen working with the three-year-olds. And as to naming them, it doesn’t take long to size up an animal, see beyond their physical attributes to what’s inside.” She reached beneath the filly’s head, her arm almost circling the graceful neck. “This one is Pretty Girl. She knows she’s pretty, and she carries herself like a woman with confidence.”

“Well,” James said softly. “You’ve sized her up right well, ma’am. Pretty Girl it is. I’ll tell your father this afternoon.” He watched as she released the filly from the rope and gave the cavorting yearling a final rub between her ears.

They worked with the other four horses in the next hour or so, and James sorted out the names she had decided on for each of them in his mind. She was uncanny, he decided, finding an element in each animal that was reflected in the name she chose for it. No wonder Hank had said she was gifted at the skill of pronouncing the right name for each horse on the place.

The largest of the group was a tall colt, a chestnut giant who was almost guaranteed to be a fine stud one day. He’d given Alexis a bit of trouble, daring her with his greater strength to keep him under control, and she’d faced up to him without hesitation, speaking sharply when he would have protested her hands on him, drawing him in when he would have had his own way.

“What are we going to call this fella?” James asked as they watched the gleaming colt race across the pasture, once the rope was taken from his neck.

“Red Mick,” she said without hesitation.

“Now, I wouldn’t have called him that,” James said, wondering at her choice.

“He’s red, for one thing.”

James nodded his agreement.

“And he’s full of himself. Reminds me of a man I once knew.”

“Well, I can’t argue that one,” James said. “Doesn’t sound like you thought much of the man.”

“Not much. He’d probably have made a good gelding, if I’d had my way. The man thought he was a real lady killer…but I didn’t.”

James laughed, loudly and long. The woman was priceless. “He must have really given you a hard time, sweetheart.”

“Not as bad a time as I gave him. He thought he could put his hands on me and I fought him. He had an aching crotch for a while, and Dad fired him without asking me any questions. He knew we’d been out by the pasture fence the night before and when he saw Mick in the morning, limping and unwilling to get in his saddle, he figured things out real quick. I’ll give Mick credit. He didn’t argue, not for a minute. I think he figured he’d gotten off easy.”

“Sounds like he did,” James said, thinking what his reaction would have been, had he been in Hank’s shoes that day.

“He also sent three men after him, just to be certain Mick left the county,” she said, shooting James a look that spoke of knowledge better left unsaid.

“I’ll bet he wasn’t a pretty sight when he hit the other side of town,” James said. “I suspect your daddy was madder than a hornet. The man ever show up here again?”

She shook her head. “That was almost two years ago. Haven’t seen hide nor hair of him.”

“If you ever do, I want to know about it,” James told her, his words harsh and commanding. “Some men learn the hard way, sweetheart. I don’t want to take any chances with your safety.”

She watched as he rolled his lariat up into a loop and held it at his side. “Am I safe with you, Jamie?” As if her own words embarrassed her, she refused to meet his gaze, her cheeks flushed, her mouth looking soft and vulnerable.

“As safe as you want to be, Alexis,” he answered. “You won’t have to aim any low blows at me.”

They walked together back to the barn, and then turned as one for a last look at the yearlings who’d taken up residence under the trees. Their heads were bent to the ground, their tails swished lazily as they brushed flies away, and one of the young colts picked up his head and looked their way, as if he challenged their vigilance.

“He’s telling you he has things under control out there,” Alexis said with a laugh. “That’s Red Mick, the leader of the whole bunch, whether they like it or not.”

“The fillies don’t seem to mind,” James observed, as one of the dark, graceful animals touched noses with the young stud they discussed.

“They’re foolish creatures, not even suspecting what’s ahead for them. When they’re all tied up waiting for his attention in a couple of years, they’ll not be so docile.”

“That’s a female for you,” James teased. “Always ready to give a man a hard time.”

They turned from the door and walked down the aisle to the tack room, where James hung his lariat and stripped off his gloves. Dropping them on the small area he used for minor paperwork, he turned to Alexis, who had followed him through the door, into the small room.

“You’re in trouble, coming in here with me,” he said quietly.

“Am I?” She faced him without a trace of fear, only anticipation lighting her eyes.

“You know what you’re doing?” he asked.

“Do you?” And then she smiled. “Yeah, I’d say you probably do, James Webster.”

Gripping her arm lightly, he bent to her, drawing her close, melding her soft curves against his own muscular length. She was amenable to his touch, fitting her body to his without hesitation, moving a bit as if she would mold herself closer.

“Watch out, sweetheart. Too much wiggling will get you in trouble,” he warned her, his voice low and husky.

“Show me,” she murmured, lifting her face to his, inviting his kiss.

He obliged her, taking his time as he covered her lips with his, brushing the soft pliant flesh and then begging entry with coaxing probes of his tongue. She obliged, a sense of surprise apparent, and he hesitated, as if he would not take advantage of her. And then she sighed and he lost his better judgment, finding her sweet and inviting, seeking out the hidden places that formed her mouth.

His kiss was long, heated and damp, and he feared he had frightened her with the intensity of his desire. But apparently not so, for she clung to him, her arms encircling his neck, her face tucked into the bend of his shoulder, as if she invited his caresses.

His mouth touched her cheek, her closed eyelids and the line of her brow where small curls formed and the heat of the day brought a faint line of perspiration to dwell. She smelled of hay and horse, an aroma not unpleasant to him. Yet, beneath her skin was the scent of woman, that elusive, faint essence of female allure that drew men to their fate.

And he was no different than any other man, he decided. Alexis was exactly what he’d traveled so many miles to find. Courting her was the next step. Convincing her father of his worth would be a task James would have to work at, if he ever planned to win the woman he held in his arms.

“Jamie?” She tipped her head back and eyed him quizzically. “What are you thinking about? Your forehead is all wrinkled and you look like something has you all riled up.”

“Just you,” he said, allowing a smile to take residence on his lips. “I’m trying to behave myself. How did you say it? Keep my hands to myself. You make it pretty hard, ma’am.” And then he laughed aloud as he recognized the truth of his statement, and drew back from her lest she be frightened or insulted by the blatant nudge of his manhood against her.

“You don’t frighten me,” she said boldly. “And I kinda like your hands right where they are, Jamie.”

He felt the line of her back beneath his fingertips, the flaring of her hips, the narrowing of her waist, and as he slid his palms upward, knew the fullness of her breasts against his chest as he measured her width, his fingertips touching at the center of her back.

She was silent, unmoving, as if any bit of protest from her might halt his meandering. And so it might. For he was in uncharted territory here, he realized.

His hands slipped to her ribs, then forward just a bit, cradling the weight of her breasts against his thumbs. It was all he could do not to clasp the softness, but he thought better of it, and wisely left it for another time. For there would be another time.

Of that he was certain.