Page 32 of One Texas Night...
There was a moment of silence, and then he stepped away. “Whatever suits you, we’ll do. We’ll go down and have lunch first while Daphne is here. We may get some hot corn bread.”
Allison gazed into his green eyes and couldn’t move. Desire was tangible, hot, pulsing between them. With a deep breath she moved away, trying to put distance between them while gulping air as if she were drowning. “Let’s go to the kitchen, Jared.” Her voice sounded deeper, strained.
She turned to glance at him, and he came forward to catch up with her. Together they walked back to the kitchen, and she was relieved to have Daphne in the room with them while they got their lunch.
They ate in a cheerful yellow-and-white breakfast room adjoining the kitchen. An expanse of windows framed another spectacular view that competed for their attention with the steaming bowls of vegetable soup served by Daphne.
After lunch they begin to walk through the rooms that were less formal, but still held marvelous antiques and interesting relics of early-day life in the West. She was surprised that his Wyoming house was as large as his home in Dallas.
Before sundown, Jared stopped her. “That’s enough for today. We’re already half finished with this house. Daphne and Rocky are gone, so we’re on our own tonight. Daphne has a roast with vegetables in a cooker and a casserole in the freezer that I can heat up. What’s your preference?”
“Definitely the roast.”
“Good choice. I want to clean up and change, so I’ll meet you in the library in an hour. We’ll have a drink before dinner. Then afterward we can watch a movie if you want.”
“I may just look at the scenery and enjoy the fire.”
“Sounds good to me,” he said.
When she stepped into her suite and closed the door, she leaned against it. She felt as if she had been fighting a silent battle all day. Every time Jared was present, she had to struggle to avoid flirting with him, to avoid responding to his flirting, to keep a distance from him. Just his mere presence disturbed her. Each time he flirted or touched her, it was more difficult to curb her response to him. She didn’t want to think that she’d be with him for possibly another week.
She went in to shower, her thoughts monopolized by Jared and the evening ahead. The days with him were beginning to go beyond lust. Jared was turning into a friend she could talk to for hours on end. The friendship was far more dangerous to her than the hot passion because friendship was deeper. She had to finish this job soon, or she would be in love with him.
Her life was totally wrapped around family and business. The only man in her life was Phillip, who had already offered marriage—several times. A marriage between two like-minded people. A lifetime in a marriage that would never hold the breathtaking excitement she found with Jared. Love might come if she married Phillip, but it would never be this heart-pounding, breath-stopping dazzle she experienced with Jared.
As she dressed for the evening, she wondered about two things. Could she continue to resist him?
And did she really want to?
Seven
She found him downstairs in the enormous kitchen. Music played, a blues number that was background music but made her think about dancing. Enticing smells filled the room. The table was set in the breakfast area, and he had glasses of red wine poured and ready.
Jared stood with his back to her, and her gaze drifted slowly over his broad shoulders, covered in a plaid woolen Western shirt, down past his tight, slim jeans, all the way to his boot-clad feet. Drawing a deep breath, she fought an urge to walk up behind him, press against him and wrap her arms around him.
Instead she sedately entered the kitchen and kept a wide space between them. “Hi,” she said quietly. “Good music. May I help you?”
He turned, his gaze flicking over her. Putting down a knife and an apple, he rinsed and dried his hands. “Just peeling an apple. The music is a motley assortment.” He closed the distance between them to place his hands on her waist. “You’re definitely the most delicious thing in this room,” he said in a deep voice.
She inhaled and thrust her hands into her pockets so she didn’t reach for him. “Thank you, I think. I’m sure I can do something here.”
“Oh, you can do a lot of things,” he drawled. “The first on the list—”
“Not that sort of thing, Jared. I’m sure I can help get dinner,” she interrupted swiftly, unable to keep from smiling at him.
“It’s impossible to avoid me, us. Let go, Allison. You’re fighting yourself more than you’re fighting me,” he whispered, gazing intently at her.
“Shall I pour water for dinner?”
He held her with a gaze that grew more intense. Her heart drummed because she thought he would kiss her. Instead he walked away to pick up two glasses of red wine. “Let’s have our drink first.” He held one out to her, and her fingers brushed his as she accepted it.
“We can sit where we have a view,” he said, motioning toward the adjoining sitting area.
She went ahead of him. A fire crackled in the fireplace, the orange flames dancing high while the setting sun glistened off the snowy mountain peaks. “This night will be difficult to forget,” she said, thinking about the scenery and the fire, but mostly about Jared. The slight contact was a magnet pulling on her senses. All his casual touches were constant reminders of the excitement, the fabulous sex they could have together.
“I won’t forget it, and I hope you don’t. Not any of the hours we’ve spent together.”
She smiled at him. “When we part, we’ll both start forgetting.”
