Читать книгу Her Montana Millionaire - Crystal Green, Crystal Green - Страница 10

He had her now.

She hovered over him, pouty lips inches from his own, her breath warming his skin as his fingers framed her chin.

Her exotic scent washed over him, a blend of kiwi and citrus, colorful and wild.

“What perfume are you wearing?” he murmured, his mind muddled by the rounded weight of her breasts pressing into his chest.

“An original bouquet named after me by the perfumer.”

Well, la-de-dah. Since he was still smarting from her engagement confession as well as her inquiry into his sexual preferences—Barbra Streisand, his foot—he used a dash of sarcasm to respond. “Were you engaged to him, too?”

She arched over him, almost making Max groan with longing. “No. He keeps asking, but he’s not my type.”

It was enough to take away his steam. Max let go of Jinni, causing her to creep back to his coat blanket, tucking her knees under her with an unreadable expression on her face.

Why had he even entertained the notion that he could be attractive to this woman? He wasn’t the type to sweep ladies off their feet. When Eloise had left him, she’d made sure that she’d packed his ego right along with all her belongings. Hell, his self-confidence was probably on some Tibetan mountaintop at this moment.

She spoke, so softly that he wondered if it wasn’t just the breeze murmuring through the pines. “I thought so.”

He sat up, wanting to run his palm down her back, to feel the sleek shape of her body under the cape and dress.

“Thought what?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

For some reason she sounded so sad. Why would a woman who had men dripping from her fingertips be so down in the dumps?

They didn’t talk for a long time, just watched the dark sky pale with the promise of morning, listened to birds escort an elk from the cover of the trees and into their open field. After a few minutes the animal moseyed back into the safety of the pines.

Three movie stars, huh? That was some back list. Had those jet-setting men made her happy with their fast-lane parties and private love scenes?

She might be married if they had.

But three engagements? Damn. Jinni Fairchild seemed to go through men like most women went through hairdos.

“Jinni?”

She peeked over her shoulder at him, slapping Max with a sting of desire. Something about those lively eyes rubbed against the flint inside of him, creating sparks.

“Yes?”

“These movie star guys—”

“Let’s forget about them. Shall we?” Her smile froze on her face, hinting that maybe she regretted bringing up the subject in the first place.

“Fair enough.” He lay back down, tucking his arms under his head once again. “What’s your pleasure?”

A low, sultry laugh was his answer. Damn him. He’d intended to bait her with a suggestive comment, hadn’t he? Jinni was converting him to her flirty ways, and he was a sucker for it.

But he wouldn’t allow the fun to go too far. He couldn’t.

She also reclined on the ground again, and he was much too aware of her proximity, the length of her body next to his. They’d be a perfect match, skin to skin. Not like Eloise, where he’d had to worry about how tiny she felt in his arms, how he’d had to treat her like a delicate, porcelain doll. Jinni seemed so together. Unbreakable.

Still, if he ever had the chance to hold her, he knew he’d treasure the contact, would stroke her with soft caresses, anyway.

Damn, what was he thinking? Michael would shatter any hopes of a successful relationship with one sharp comment, one hard glare. Bringing home a woman would definitely put more of a strain on their already tenuous relationship.

“You’re suddenly reticent,” said Jinni.

“I’m holding on to the moment.”

“I see.”

Could she tell that he couldn’t afford to see her again? That this was the only peaceful moment he’d had in the past few years and it wouldn’t last forever?

“You just keep on holding,” said Jinni.

He smiled, closing his eyes. The wind brushed over his skin, but he wished it were Jinni’s fingertips instead.

The next thing he knew, he really did feel fingers coasting over his temple. His eyes blinked open to catch her touching him while a wisp of long, platinum hair fluttered against his chin, tickling it. Tendrils of dawn softened Jinni’s face as she smiled down at him.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

He sat up, bringing her with him. “Did I doze off?”

“We both did.”

She was still so close that he could breathe in that scent she wore. So distinctive, so original, just like the woman herself.

“I’ve got to get you home,” he said, standing. He held out his hands, helping Jinni to her feet.

When she rose to her full height, she wavered against him, losing her balance for a second. Long legs and curves, pressing into him, pressing against his heart.

“I’ll drive. My car—” she held up an index finger “—rather, my sister’s car is parked at Joe’s Bar.”

“You want to hide yourself in a vehicle on a dawn like this?” He gestured toward the endless, blooming sky. “Who knows how long we’ll have this weather?”

Driving would be so much easier, true. But he didn’t want the night to end.

“Are you suggesting we walk home?”

He looked up and down her body, making Jinni bat one of those appreciative glances right back at him.

“You can’t stay in shape without exercising,” he said. “Right?”

“I do my time with a personal trainer, thank you. Exercising isn’t supposed to be practical.”

Max chuckled. “Welcome to the real world, Jinni. Out here some people labor to stay fit. You won’t catch many ranch hands jogging on a treadmill.”

She drew a finger down the front of his shirt, each button popping under her nail, echoing his self-control.

“Don’t tell me you’re some boy from the farm.”

“I’m no movie star, that’s for sure. But I do a little work with the cattle on my estate and… Well, I have a pretty decent gym on the premises.”

“See. You are my type. You just don’t know it.”

With that she picked up his jacket from the ground, loaded it in his arms—filling them with something that wasn’t half as good as Jinni would no doubt feel—and left, walking ahead of him.

After shaking his head, he followed, watching the swivel of her shapely hips as she pulled her cape around her.

The dark orange palette of morning lazed over the sky while they walked Main Street, sharing trivia such as favorite foods and travel destinations. Jinni had seen much of the civilized world, whereas Max had gone to places he wished he’d never been. Places where children’s bellies balled out of their skeletal frames, even though they were starving. Places where people lived in plank shacks, faces covered by flies that they didn’t bother to swipe away. He didn’t mention this to Jinni, but he’d made a point of donating money in the hopes that something could be done.

But there were so many problems.

As they approached Logan Street, he acquainted her with the subtleties of Rumor. Not that there were all that many. Off to the left, the silhouette of his mansion emerged against the horizon.

“What’s that?” asked Jinni after crossing the street. “A Tuscan village? It’s gorgeous.”

Max went to tug at his necktie, but it was still loose and nowhere near his neck. “That’s my place.”

“Place?” Jinni looked again, eyes wide. “You’re missing a letter. How about p-a-l-a-c-e?”

“It’s home.” Right. The Cantrell Mansion definitely set him apart from most of the others in town. Truthfully, even the Kingsleys, with their ranch-estate across town, didn’t measure up to his riches.

But none of it meant a damned thing with a brother who’d been running from the law for a few months now. Max would’ve given all his wealth to know that Guy was safe and innocent.

Jinni perched her hands on her hips. “What does your son have to complain about? You know, it’s always the most fortunate people who do the most whining.” She laughed, and he thought he detected a trace of irony. “I should know. I grew up with everything my heart desired, except for….”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, the usual. I rarely saw my parents when Val and I were growing up. They were always gallivanting off on some worldwide adventure or another. We had the best education, the best clothes and servants.” A faraway sheen veiled her eyes. “But Val and I only wanted one thing. Parents.”

He took a step closer to her, thinking that she could use the silent support.

“See,” she said, reverting back to her old self. “What did I tell you? Whine, whine, whine. This is something I don’t need to talk about.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s in the past.” She patted her hair, sighing. “Besides, I love my life. Wouldn’t give it up for anything.”

He had the feeling that she didn’t usually reveal much about herself to people, and the fact that she’d shared anything with him was a boost to his ego.

She glanced at his mansion again, a faraway gleam in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’re a neglectful parent though.”

“That’s okay. I’m not. I know that. If you ask Michael, the opposite is true. I stick my nose in his business too often.”

“Like a good parent should.”

“You’d think. He’d be shocked to know how much pride I have in him, how much I admire what he’s accomplished in his short life. Did you know he won first place at the science fair this year?”