Читать книгу Tall, Tanned & Texan - Kimberly Raye, Kimberly Raye - Страница 9

“I KNEW IT!” She flipped on the switch and light flooded the small room. “You are following me.”

“I am not.” Rance frowned.

“Oh really? You’re standing in an airport storage closet.”

“So are you,” he retorted. “Maybe you’re the one following me.”

“Excuse me? I was here first,” she reminded him. “My brothers sent you here to spy on me, didn’t they?”

His mouth thinned as if he were about to deny it. “Actually, they sent me to talk some sense into you,” he finally said after a long moment.

She’d known the truth, but having it confirmed bothered her a lot more than she expected. Her chest tightened. She blinked against the sudden burning behind her eyes. “So all of that instructor stuff was just a bunch of BS?”

“They are always looking for qualified instructors according to their Web site.”

“But you’re not one of the chosen few.”

“I could be. If I wanted to be.”

“I should have known.” Hello? You did know.

She just hadn’t wanted to believe it. Deep down, she’d wanted to think that maybe Fate had finally smiled on her. Maybe all those years of dreaming hadn’t been wasted. Maybe it had just been poor timing.

And now the time was right and he’d followed her because he’d wanted to.

Wrong.

“Look, I’m sorry I lied to you, but it was for a good cause. Clay is worried about you and I promised him I would stick close and keep an eye out. I was afraid you would have walked off the plane back in San Antonio if I didn’t give you a convincing story.”

“I would have.”

“Which means it really was convincing.”

“Then.” She narrowed her gaze. “But now that I really think about it, I can see major holes.”

His mouth tightened into a frown. “It’s the tightest story I’ve ever heard.”

“Not really. I know you have a reputation back home, but it takes more than just a little backseat action to make a Camp E.D.E.N. instructor.”

“A little?” He arched an eyebrow at her.

“Okay, so a lot. But that’s small town stuff, which is always overexaggerated. Not to mention, that was years ago. You could have been celibate since then for all anyone knows. Which brings us to huge, gaping hole number one—you don’t have any solid references behind you.”

“I haven’t been celibate.”

“Says you.”

“And the press,” he reminded her.

“Everybody knows the media can blow things out of proportion. Last year Irma Sue Sinclair bought a push-up bra on a shopping trip to Austin. Two days later, the “About Town” column reported that she’d not only had her boobs done, but splurged on a tummy tuck and liposuction to boot.”

“That’s small-town gossip, not news.”

“You’re telling me that piece I saw on Inside Edition—the one with you eating a banana split off some centerfold’s belly—was news?”

“It was for charity.”

“It was for publicity. Look, I know you think you’ve maintained your reputation by ingesting all that whipped cream, but—”

“—and cherries.”

“—and cherries,” she added, ignoring the sudden vision that popped into her head of a very well-placed cherry and a certain tall, dark and handsome man trying to retrieve it with his mouth. “But just because you know your way around a seductive dessert, doesn’t make you an expert when it comes to sex.”

“Trust me.” His gaze glittered gold fire and she became acutely aware of the small size of the closet and his close proximity. “I’m fully qualified in that department.”

“That’s what you say. But talking the talk doesn’t make you a real expert. It takes moves. Skill. Action.” His frown deepened and she added, “If I were Camp E.D.E.N.’s owner, I would have only the most experienced instructors working for me. As a paying student, I expect a certain level of expertise.”

“And you don’t think I’ve reached that level?”

And then some. She shrugged. “It’s nothing personal. Camp E.D.E.N. needs teachers who can put their money where their mouth is… What are you doing?” she blurted as he stepped closer and she lost the precious few inches of distance between them.

“Putting my money where my mouth is.” He leaned down and his lips touched hers.

Deanie wasn’t sure what she’d expected from Rance, but she was damned sure what she didn’t expect.

A kiss.

A hot, wet, breath-stealing kiss.

Shock beat through her for the next few seconds as his lips nibbled at hers. But then he reached out, his large hands sliding around her waist, and her surprise faded amid the sudden tidal wave of lust that broke over her.

She slid her hands up and around his shoulders, his neck, and buried her fingers in his hair. His mouth slanted more fully over hers and his tongue plunged deep to tangle with hers. The kiss heated and shifted into overdrive as his hands slid down to cup her bottom and pull her tight against his hard crotch.

He rubbed her back and forth and she shuddered. He felt so good. So right.

Fate.

The word echoed in her head as she slid her hands beneath his T-shirt and stroked his bare skin. He reached between them and cupped her breast. He stroked the fullness through her thin sundress before sliding his fingers toward the gaping neckline. He traced the path where her plump skin plunged beneath the fabric and she trembled. His touch moved higher, following the strap that fastened around her neck. He paused over the hook and for a long moment, his hand cupped the back of her head and he simply kissed her. Deeply, thoroughly, his tongue stroking in a frenzied rhythm that picked her up like a tidal wave and carried her along for the ride.

She relished the taste and texture of him. A moan of protest curled up her throat when he finally pulled away. Her brain barely had time to register the fact that he’d unclasped the halter top of her dress and the material now bunched at her waist. Her bare breasts trembled from the sudden rush of air and she felt a moment of self-consciousness. But then he caught one nipple between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed, and a bolt of pleasure pierced her brain. Her lips parted on a gasp and then he was kissing her again.

Her hands dropped from his shoulders and traced a path down the hard wall of his chest. She pressed her palm over his erection, feeling him through the fabric of his shorts. She was this close to the zipper when the doorknob trembled.

Things happened fast in the next few seconds as Rance pulled away and caught the doorknob just as someone tried to open it from the other side.

“What the…” The voice carried from the other side as Rance jerked the door shut and held it tight while Deanie fumbled to cover herself.

“Just a second,” he called out, glancing at her to make sure she was fully covered. His eyes were a deep, dark gold. Surprise shimmered in their depths.

Surprise?

Because he’d kissed her, or because he’d liked it.

She didn’t have time to debate the answer before she tightened the clasp on her dress and Rance loosened his grip on the doorknob. Metal creaked and the outside world intruded. Deanie’s lust faded into a rush of anger as she stepped into the terminal and stared through the wall of windows that overlooked the boarding gate.

RANCE STOOD amid the hustle and bustle of the airport and let his gaze follow Deanie’s. He stared at the empty spot where their plane had sat, the stairs now pulled back and idle, and frowned. At least, he tried to stare at the empty spot, but his gaze kept straying to the woman next to him.

He’d kissed Deanie Codge.

That fact didn’t bother him half as much as the fact that he’d kissed her and he’d liked it.

Obviously, a lot more than she had.

“…can’t be happening,” she murmured, her soft, panicked voice pushing past the whirlwind of his thoughts. “I have to check-in at Camp E.D.E.N. today or I’ll lose my Valentine’s Day discount.”

“It’s not Valentine’s Day until tomorrow.”

“That’s beside the point. The course runs through Valentine’s Day, and so they’re giving a discount. It officially starts today.” She glanced at her watch. “Check-in is less than an hour. And the first workshop is right after that.”

“So you miss it. So what?”

“I can’t just miss it. I paid for it. I need it…”

She was totally oblivious to him. To the fact that he’d kissed her senseless only minutes ago. To the fact that he was standing next to her and it was taking everything he had not to reach for her again.

He’d meant to teach her a lesson. To show her that he was every bit as good as his reputation maintained. Even more, to turn the tables and remind her that she wanted him.

She always had.

Then.

And now?

While she’d responded as if she still did, she’d managed to forget all about it in the face of their departed plane. As if she kissed and felt up men every day of the week. As if it hadn’t been that big of a deal.

The notion stuck in Rance’s craw as he followed her toward the desk at the boarding gate.

“We just missed our flight,” Deanie told the attendant. “You have to call it back.”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that, miss. They’ve already taken off.”

“Then put me on the next connecting flight,” she said.

“Us,” Rance cut in. “Put us on the next connecting flight.”

“No problem.” The woman tapped away at her computer keyboard for several seconds before a triumphant smile lit her face. “That will put you on Flight 1156 coming from Miami.”

“When does it get here?”

“At three-fifteen.”

“That’s not so bad,” Rance told her as he glanced at his watch. “You shouldn’t miss more than one workshop. Two at the most.”

“Three-fifteen tomorrow.”

“But I need to be there today.”

“I’m sorry, miss. There are no more flights today.” She gave a brilliant smile. “But the airline will be happy to put you up at the island’s main resort until your connecting flight arrives tomorrow. The resort is nearly full, but we reserve a few extra rooms for this sort of mishap. People miss flights all the time. Someone’s always taking sick or getting stuck in the snack bar line. There was even this time when a woman actually fell asleep in the ladies’ room—she suffered from that sleep disorder where you just conk out with no advance warning. Anyhow, we’re fully prepared to deal with these situations.”

“What about a boat? Can’t I take a boat to the next island?”

“This is an airline, miss. Not a marina.”

“But—” Deanie protested.

“Thanks,” Rance cut in, taking the new flight itinerary that the attendant handed them. “We appreciate your help.”

“Says you.” Deanie turned on him, her gaze hard and glittering. He’d kissed away her pink lip gloss in the closet. Her lips were full and pouty. Or they would have been if she wasn’t wearing such a tight frown. “This is all your fault.”

He could argue that one. She’d turned him on with her sudden cold shoulder after all those years of panting after him, a calculated move to stir his interest if he’d ever seen one. On top of that, she’d insulted his expertise, no doubt knowing full well he’d be hard-pressed to prove her wrong.

Why, she’d practically begged for that kiss.

That’s what he told himself. He just wasn’t so sure he believed it, especially since she was currently staring daggers at him.

“Let’s go.” He took the complimentary room passes the attendant handed him and steered her around. He did his damnedest to ignore the warm pull of heat at his fingertips as he steered her through the small airport as fast as he could manage without running someone down.

He needed out of there. He needed some fresh air. He needed a cold shower.

What he didn’t need was another trip to the storage closet.

But man-o-man, did he want one.

RANCE WATCHED DEANIE walk toward the cab that waited at the curb. Sunlight drenched her, outlining her petite figure clad in the hot pink sundress.

An honest-to-god figure, with enough curves and indentations to make his mouth water.

Not that he’d ever doubted she actually had one. He’d just never really thought about it until that night at the creek.

Up until then, she’d been Teeny Deanie. His buddy’s kid sister. His personal pain-in-the-ass.

Speaking of asses…

His gaze hooked on the gentle sway of her tight, round bottom beneath the short pink dress and his stomach hollowed out. For a split second, he imagined bending her over, peeling the dress up and sinking his fingers into her soft pale flesh. He imagined sinking something else into her, as well, and his groin throbbed its agreement. He licked his lips and tasted sweet, sugary candy and something else. Something rich and potent that made his gut ache for another taste.

“I have no intention of tagging along after you.”

Her words echoed in his head as he watched her fold herself into the cab and pull the door shut behind her, and he frowned. She was telling the truth. While he’d tried to convince himself that her indifference had just been an act to stir his interest, he knew better.

While she was still attracted to him—there was no mistaking her response to his kiss—she didn’t want to be attracted to him.

She wanted to start a new life.

To put the past behind her.

To forget him and, from the way she motioned for the cab driver to take off, make him walk from the small airport to the resort.

He picked up his steps as bitterness swirled inside him and made his throat tight.

Forget him?

After all they’d shared, she wanted to chuck it all and wipe the slate clean. Hell, she didn’t even seem to give a lick that he’d broken his leg not four months ago and was, most likely, in some serious pain with all this walking.

Okay, so they hadn’t actually shared anything, except a few cookies, the occasional slice of cake and the every-now-and-then bag of his favorite jawbreakers. But that had been his fault. He’d resisted her advances and done his best to discourage her, at least romantically. He’d had nothing against talking to her when she sat next to him on the bus or showed up on his doorstep.

Christ, he’d liked talking to her.

There’d been no need to search for the right words to try to impress her. She’d liked him anyway. Even more, she’d listened and understood everything he’d had to say.

And even the stuff he hadn’t been able to say.

He could still remember the time he’d been shooting marbles with a group of boys in the schoolyard. She’d been in the first grade and he’d been in the fifth, and she’d just started following him around. He’d had the biggest collection of marbles out of all the boys, and he’d been dead certain he was good enough to keep them.

He’d been wrong.

There had been a new kid at school and he’d been better. Rance had lost all of his marbles that day, and most of the ones that belonged to his two brothers.

Rance remembered crying only two times in his life. That had been the first time. He’d gone home and bawled his eyes out. He’d been bawling, as a matter of fact, when Deanie had come knocking. She’d held a great big bag of jawbreakers in her small hands.

“Jawbreakers?” He swiped at his tears and sniffled.

“For the ones you lost,” she told him.

“They weren’t jawbreakers, doofus. They were marbles. I can’t shoot jawbreakers.”

She frowned as she stared at the bag, as if thinking hard for the first time. And then she smiled and popped one into her mouth. “No, but you can eat them.”

She held the bag out to him and he had the urge to tell her to get lost. But something about the way she looked at him, her blue eyes warm and full of understanding, made him want to reach out.

He took a jawbreaker and popped it into his mouth. Cherry exploded on his tongue and he smiled, too.

She’d been there the second time in his life when he’d cried, as well. He’d been sixteen then and he’d just lost both his parents. He’d barely arrived home after the double funeral before the townsfolk had started to arrive. They’d brought everything from ham to casseroles. Miss Jackie had brought her famous red velvet cake and Miss Myrtle had brought homemade bread and strawberry preserves. But he hadn’t had an appetite for any of it. He’d felt sick inside. Empty. Dead.

And then he’d opened the door to find Deanie standing there with a great big bag of jawbreakers. She hadn’t said a word. No “I’m sorry for your loss” or “Let me know if I can do anything.” She’d just stared at him with her bright blue eyes and popped a candy into her mouth. Then she’d handed the bag to him.

He’d done the same and while he’d sucked the cherry coating off, he’d actually felt better.

As the memories swirled in his head, he couldn’t help the sudden feeling that maybe he’d been a genuine dumb ass back then. Maybe Deanie had been the perfect girl and he just hadn’t been able to see past her T-shirts, baggy jeans or mud-covered cowboy boots.

Maybe he shouldn’t have walked away that night down by the creek.

And maybe your pride’s just hurt, buddy.

Maybe. Probably.

There was only one way to prove it.

If the lust eating him up from the inside out was the result of his wounded ego, it would fade once he and Deanie had a good, old-fashioned roll in the hay. Then she could get on with her “education” and he could stop thinking those damnable what-ifs.

And if it didn’t?

As soon as the question struck, Rance squashed it. It would. He had his flaws, but he couldn’t have been that blind. Any more than he could have said yes to her that night. She’d been too young and he’d been too old, and it just wouldn’t have been right.

He picked up his steps, careful to add a nice, pained looking limp to his gait, and called out. “Wait up!”

She turned toward him and he caught her stare.

Suspicion glimmered in her true blue gaze, but not before he’d seen the flash of concern. She said something to the driver, leaned over and shoved open the door.