She looked up into dark brown eyes that hid what he was thinking. How little she actually knew about him. Could she really trust him?
Her gaze lowered to his mouth, and her pulse jumped. At this moment she didn’t care about their future relationship. She just wanted his mouth on hers again and his hands on her to make her forget her losses and the fire.
She caught her breath, blinking, trying to gather her wits. She scooted away, and he shifted back, more into the driver’s seat. He turned and started the pickup and then glanced at her again. “Ready to move on?”
“Yes, thanks,” she said, meaning it. He had salved some of her heartbreak of permanent loss. She was more composed. At the same time, she realized she had some new problems. Jake Reed had given her the best kiss of her life, but he was also a lifelong enemy of her and her family. How badly had she just complicated her life?
* * *
Jake concentrated on his driving. Claire was as quiet as he was, and he suspected she might be in just about as much shock. She had the fire, the loss of her house, her scorched and burned land to worry about. She also had their kisses to think about.
She had just turned his life topsy-turvy. It was an understatement to tell her that he would never forget their kisses. He couldn’t stop thinking about them.
They were fleeing a raging inferno behind them, and he was fighting a raging internal fire that made him want to pull off the road, take her into his arms and kiss her for hours.
He had never reacted this intensely to a woman he barely knew and hadn’t even been attracted to in the past. He turned the pickup and finally got back on one of his ranch roads, a dirt track that was little more than two ruts with weeds growing up the center, but he knew where he was—it would lead back to a better road and eventually to his cabin.
And she was coming home to live with him for the next few days. Or weeks. He almost groaned over that thought. He hadn’t been able to resist kissing her today. How was he going to resist kissing her when he took her home with him? Common sense said he should resist. They had been enemies all their lives, and now was not the time to get deeply and intimately involved with her. Because of her losses, she was emotionally vulnerable, and he didn’t want to hurt her.
She could tangle up his life in a huge way. Right now, he was already tied in knots, confused by the hunger for her, hot, intense and constant—and by his need to get a grip on himself and get back to the way he had always viewed her.
Too late for that. The barn door had been opened, and the horses had already left. A few kisses and she had already complicated the hell out of his life.
So why couldn’t he stop thinking about kissing her again?
He could think of too many reasons why he shouldn’t—they were lifelong enemies. For years they had fought each other over ranch problems. They didn’t even like each other. No, he had to amend that one. They didn’t know each other, really. All he had were preconceived notions about her. And she definitely didn’t know him. The last reason was a doozy: their families would be enraged if they even became friends.
“You’re very quiet,” she said softly, and he glanced briefly at her to see her looking intently at him. His gaze lowered as he looked at her lips, and he thought about their kisses.
“Just driving,” he answered, focusing on the road and taking a deep breath.
“If you’re having second thoughts about taking me home with you, I’ll try to keep out of your way, and tomorrow maybe you can take me to town, and I can find a place to stay.”
He glanced at her again and felt a twinge of guilt for thinking she would be a problem houseguest. He smiled at her before turning his attention back to his driving.
“I’m fine about taking you home with me. You need a place to stay, and my cabin is roomy enough that we won’t be in each other’s way. Stop worrying. I wouldn’t have asked you if I hadn’t meant it,” he said, thinking the real problem was keeping his hands off her.
Her kisses had set him on fire, and he wasn’t going to forget them for a long time. He took a deep breath and tried to think about the fire, his cabin, his employees and his livestock—everything and anything besides Claire. How could she possibly be that sexy?
He forced himself to stare at the dry ruts and weeds until he got hold of himself. Then he allowed himself a glance at her, just a quick look. She was staring ahead, her emotions evidently under control.
She turned to look at him, and for an instant their gazes met. He felt the jolt all the way to his toes, and that’s when he began to worry if he’d ever get hold of himself again. The urge to pull over, take her into his arms and kiss her again was as strong as ever.
He had to get out and spend some time with one of his sexiest, best-looking, most fun women friends. He had some who would fit that description. And not one of them had ever set him on fire with her kisses the way his feuding neighbor had today. Thinking about it, he shook his head.
“Is something wrong?” she asked in a soft voice.
“I was just thinking about my livestock and the fire,” he lied. He wasn’t about to tell her what he was really thinking. “The guys saved the animals, and that’s an enormous relief. I guess you feel the same about yours.”
“Oh my, yes. Thank heavens they got mine moved. That’s something I can think about that’s very, very good.”
He smiled at her again, glad she sounded in control of her emotions and positive about her livestock. She didn’t sound bothered or in a dither, but then, he hoped, neither did he sound that way. He just felt that way. If he could forget her kisses, his life and his thoughts would calm and settle into his usual routines.
Unfortunately, he had a suspicion he wouldn’t forget them in a lifetime.
He drove in silence, and she was quiet, seeming to be lost in her thoughts, so maybe she was adjusting to the situation.
In a short time, he turned up the cleared drive to his cabin. “There it is,” he said. What he called his cabin anyone else would call a mansion, even if it was in the woods. The sprawling two-story river home was big and roomy, made of logs with an enclosed wraparound porch. Behind it ran a wide, rippling creek with cottonwoods scattered along the banks. To one side in the front was a man-made waterfall and a pond with exotic plants along one bank and tubs of blooming multicolored water lilies. There were beds of exotic plants and flowers next to the porch of his cabin. There were lifelike statues of wildlife—a mountain lion in a tree, a couple of grazing goats, a collie. He followed a wide drive around the cabin to a six-car garage. The drive was bordered by more green plants and flowers. A statue of a man fishing was at the creek’s edge.
