Читать книгу Lies And Lullabies: Courting the Cowboy Boss - Джанис Мейнард, Yvonne Lindsay - Страница 17

Ten

Case came awake with a start, jerking upright and wondering if he had dreamed Mellie. No...there she was. Sitting across from him. Looking young and sexy and prim, her knees pressed together and her hands folded in her lap.

“Sorry,” he grimaced. “I keep doing that.”

Mellie lifted a shoulder. “That’s the drill. Lots of rest and plenty of fluids.”

He ran a hand through his hair, wincing when the restrained motion made his head throb. “How long have I been out?”

“Only forty-five minutes.”

Damn it. “And you’ve probably been sitting here starving.”

“If I was that hungry, I wouldn’t have waited for you. Give me a minute and I’ll put everything in the microwave to warm it up.”

“No.” Once Mellie left the room, he’d probably crash again. “I’m not that picky. Let’s do this.”

“If you’re sure...”

It occurred to him that sitting up long enough to eat was a daunting proposition, even though he was ravenous. Still, he washed the Tylenol down with the bottle of water and then started in on his chicken.

Mellie ate quietly. She was a restful woman. At least when she wasn’t arguing with him. He managed half of the chicken breast, the roll and a few of the green beans before he admitted defeat. Pushing his plate away, he leaned back in the embrace of the sofa and rested his head, telling himself he was on the mend. Mind over matter. That was his mantra.

His companion looked askance at him. “You need the protein,” she said.

“I had a mother. I don’t need another one.”

Mellie blinked, set down her fork and stood. “I’ll come back when you’re in a better mood.”

The careful rebuke hit its mark.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “Don’t go.”

She crossed her arms at her waist. “I’m getting mixed signals, Case.”

“I know.” It was true. He wanted to be alone to wallow in his misery, but at the same time, he was intrigued by Mellie Winslow and charmed by her matter-of-fact caring.

Her hair glowed tonight, the long strands catching light from the fixture overhead. The sweater she wore was fitted but not tight. Even so, he was well aware of her ample breasts.

“Sit down. Please. I have a proposition for you.”

The expression on her face told him she was evaluating all meanings of that statement. “Um...”

“Oh, hell, Mellie. I can’t even finish dinner. Do you really think I’m going to lure you into my bed?”

“Of course not,” she muttered, looking anywhere but at his face. She sat down hard on the sofa, not so much an act of will as a necessary evil, as if her legs had given out. He knew the feeling.

It was a sure bet she didn’t trust him. But he had a plan to win her over. “I’d like to become a silent partner in the Keep N Clean. With my investment, you wouldn’t have to wait to expand.”

Mellie opened and closed her mouth like a fish gasping for oxygen. She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

He stared at her, his pulse far too rapid. “Maybe you didn’t understand. I’d like to give you fifty thousand dollars. It’s the least I can do to repay you for playing nurse.”

Now his dinner guest looked murderous. “The milk of human kindness is not for sale, Mr. Baxter. Some things in life are free.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly oversensitive?” Aggravation made his head ache like the devil.

She stared him down, her green eyes chilled to the shade of moss. “You hired me to clean and organize your house. An ordinary business arrangement. I neither want nor need your investment money.”

Though it took every ounce of energy he could muster, he levered his body off the sofa and joined her on the love seat. Her spine was so straight it was a wonder it didn’t crack under the weight of her disapproval.

He rested his arm behind her shoulders. “Don’t make a hasty decision, Mellie. This is what I do. I find it very rewarding to help local businesses grow.”

“You don’t get it.”

They were so close he could see the faint, almost imperceptible veins beneath her fair skin. At her temple...in the dip above her collarbone. “So explain it to me,” he urged. “I’m listening.” He was trying to listen, though all he really wanted to do was kiss her.

Mellie’s head was bent, her profile as simple and sweet as a Madonna’s. The feelings she invoked in him, however, were a far cry from religious. More like the temptations of the damned.

She inhaled and exhaled, sliding him a sideways glance that begged for understanding. “The Keep N Clean is mine. I’ve sweated and worried and planned and strategized...every mile of the way. I could have stepped into the family business and worked alongside my father, but I needed something that belonged to me...something he couldn’t ruin.”

“That’s pretty harsh.”

“You don’t know him.” Her smile was bleak. “He’s an alcoholic...with not the slightest interest in recovery. People in town make jokes about him. The sheriff has a cell with Harold’s name on it. I didn’t want to be a part of that, but...”

She ground to a halt, biting her lip, her distress almost palpable.

“But what?” He smoothed a strand of hair away from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. Her skin was softer than a Texas sunrise, all pink and pretty and sweet.

“I can’t bear to see him go completely down the abyss. So I keep giving him money. Which is stupid, because his business pulls in twice what mine does.”

Her voice broke as a single tear rolled down her cheek. Mellie seemed oblivious. Case felt something twist inside his chest. He couldn’t tell if it was a good feeling or a bad one...maybe just damned scary.

Pulling her head to his shoulder, he stroked her hair, releasing the band that held it and using his fingers to winnow through the fragrant mass. “Sometimes doing the right thing is really hard.”

“How would you know?” The question was tart.

He rested his chin on top of her head. “My college roommate had a drug problem, but he hid it from me for almost a year. I was constantly bailing him out of jail and making excuses for him. Until the night I came home from a date with my current girlfriend and found Toby on the floor of our apartment. Dead. From an overdose.”

He recited the tale simply, even though the recounting jabbed at a spot in his heart that had never quite healed.

Mellie pulled back to look at him, her eyes wide and distraught. “Oh, Case. I’m so sorry.” She put her hands on his cheeks. “You must have been devastated.”

Her simple empathy reached down inside the hard shell he’d worn since his divorce and found purchase in a tiny crack. Emotions roiled in his chest, feelings he hated. It was much simpler when he saw Mellie Winslow as simply a potential bed partner. He didn’t want to know her innermost secrets. He didn’t want to care.

But he was lost...defeated. Almost before the battle had begun. “I want to kiss you,” he said raggedly, “but I can’t. I’m sick.”

Her smile was both wicked and reassuring. “Then I’ll kiss you,” she whispered.

Never in his life had he let a woman take the initiative. Though he didn’t mind an aggressive woman in bed if the mood was right, he liked to lead the dance. Even so, it was damned arousing to submit, even momentarily, to Mellie’s slightly awkward affections.

She started with his stubbly jaw, her tongue damp against his hot skin. The feminine purr of pleasure sent every drop of blood to his sex, leaving him hard and breathless.

“Mellie?”

She ignored him. Leaning into his embrace, she nuzzled his ear, kissed his brow, traced his nose with a fingertip. When her mouth hovered over his, he protested. “No.” It might have been more convincing if he hadn’t been dragging her against his chest. “I don’t need your pity.”

“But you want to kiss me.”

It was a statement, not a question. He shuddered, his arousal viciously demanding, relentlessly insistent. Take, take, take. “Of course I want to kiss you,” he said, the words sandpaper in his throat. Any living, breathing heterosexual male would want to kiss her.

Carefully, telling himself he was still in control, he slid a hand beneath the edge of her sweater and found the plane of her belly with his fingertips. Mellie’s sharp intake of breath spurred him on. When she didn’t move, not even a millimeter, he found her breast and palmed it.

Hell. Her curves were all woman. Beneath a layer of silky stuff and lace, he felt her heat, her life force. Wanting turned him inside out.

Moving slowly so as to not alarm her, he eased them into a reclining position, Mellie on her back, Case on his side—against the couch—his upper body sheltering hers.

She stared up at him, wide-eyed. “We can’t do this.”

He unfastened the button on the side of her skirt...lowered the zipper...exposed her practical cotton undies. “I know.”

“Wait.” She put a hand on his wrist. “Weren’t you supposed to woo me with champagne and strawberries?”

He was shaking. Either his fever was back or he was out of control. “Dessert,” he said, the words barely audible. “In a little while.”

His hand moved of its own accord, breaching the inconsequential narrow barrier of elastic on her bikini underpants and sliding lower.

Mellie whimpered. There was no other word for it. In that raw, needy sound, he heard every last one of his scruples and reservations spelled out. This was insane. He was insane.

He swallowed hard. “Shall I stop?” She would never know what the question cost him.

She held his hand against her body, gripping his wrist until her fingernails dug into his skin. The spark of pain drove his lust a notch higher. “Don’t you dare.”

When he found the moist cleft of her sex, they both groaned. As he stroked her gently, he felt her lift against his hand.

He was dizzy...hungover...and he hadn’t even popped the cork on the bubbly. “Close your eyes, Mellie.”

Mellie panted, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Why hadn’t he removed her sweater? Hell, he couldn’t stop now. It wouldn’t be fair.

“I want to see you naked,” he said urgently.

“Please, don’t stop...” The three words were raspy, but ended on a sharp cry.

Watching and feeling Mellie find satisfaction was humbling. No pretenses. No big show. Just a woman experiencing pleasure—deep, raw gratification.

When she could breathe again, he rested his forehead on hers. “I want you.”

She licked her lips, her expression befuddled. “You’ve been desperately ill. Maybe your heart’s not healthy enough for sex.” She dared to tease him.

“My heart’s fine,” he groused, not amused by her joking allusion to a television commercial. “And I don’t appreciate the reference. I have the flu, not ED.”

She curled her arms around his neck, smiling drowsily. “You’re gorgeous even when you’re sick. It’s not fair. And PS, I’ve never done it with a cowboy.”

“You still haven’t done it,” he pointed out, his disgruntlement tempered only by the fact that he felt like hell.

“They say anticipation is half the pleasure.”

“I’d like a chance to find out.”

“The first day you’re well, I swear. We’ll drink that champagne and go for it.”

“Cheap advice from a woman who just—”

She clapped her hand over his mouth. “Don’t be grouchy. Your time will come. In fact, if you think you’re up to it, I’m right here. Carpe diem and all that.”

He thought about it. Seriously. For about ten seconds. But a quick assessment of his head-to-toe misery settled the argument. “No,” he sighed. “I want to impress you with my carnal prowess.”

“Is that really a thing?”

“You’ll have to wait and see, now, won’t you?”

She frowned, examining his face, no doubt spotting the damp forehead and the sudden lack of color. “You need to be in bed,” she said firmly. “Alone.”

He wanted to argue. He really wanted to argue. But damn it, Mellie was right. “I don’t want you to leave,” he said. “You keep me occupied.”

“That’s one word for it.” She sat up, forcing him to, as well. When they were hip to hip, she took his hand. “I think it’s best if I put cleaning your house on hold...give you a week to recover without anyone underfoot. If you’re better by the end of the week, we’ll talk about resuming our original schedule.”

“I have to be better by the weekend,” he said.

“Why?”

“The club is throwing a big party Saturday night to honor me as the new president.”

“Ah.”

“That’s all you have to say...ah?”

She cocked her head. “What do you want me to say?”

“You could at least act interested.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Mellie. You know I want you to go with me.”

She stood abruptly. “I most certainly do not. We’re barely acquaintances.”

“Aren’t you forgetting what just happened? When I rocked your world?” He smiled to let her know he was kidding about the world-rocking thing.

Mellie actually winced. “Aside from your Texas-sized ego, what you and I have been dancing around is the possibility of a fling, not any kind of official status. That’s crazy.”

“Why won’t you go with me? It’s a single social occasion, not a relationship.”

Her reluctance dinged his pride. It wasn’t boasting to say that any one of a large number of women in Royal would be pleased to attend the upcoming party as his guest. Mellie looked as if he had offered to take her to a funeral.

“I like my life just fine, Case. Other than the occasional run-in with my dad, I’m pretty happy with the way things have turned out for me. I own a business I love... I have a lot of interesting friends. I’m not interested in finding a man to take care of me.”

His temper started a slow boil. “We’re talking about a party, Ms. Winslow. It’s hardly a basis for what you’re thinking about.”

“True. But if we end up in bed together, I’d rather no one else know about it. That way when we’re done, there won’t be any messy explanations to deal with.”

When we’re done... Maybe if he hadn’t felt so rotten, he might have been able to understand why her blithe prediction about their future bothered him so much.

“Fine,” he said, his jaw clenched. “I won’t ask again. If you want me, you’ll have to say so. I’m done here.”