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There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky and a slight breeze blew the hair from her face and teased the leaves on the trees. Suddenly she felt heavy hands on her shoulders. Cole sat down on the large rock, his legs bowing out around her while he moved to hold her close, his hands just beneath her breasts.
“You pick good places to rest,” he said.
“I was watching the fish. Can you see them?” She leaned forward, pointing.
“They’re feeding off water-dwelling insects and minnows. I should have thought to bring a collapsible fishing rod. We could take home some trout for supper.”
“Are they good to eat?”
“Trout?” He sounded surprised. “You’ve never eaten trout?”
“No.”
“Oh, darlin’, we must expand your palate. I’m no damn connoisseur, but you gotta try trout cooked in butter and some spices. Maybe with a potato on the side. I like it best when it’s cooked over an open campfire.”
“Maybe I’ll get to try it sometime.”
“Maybe you will. Maybe I can cook it for you.”
“You can cook?”
“Damn straight I can cook. Nothing fancy but I can fill you up and provide good, hot nourishment.”
“I would like that.”
His body grew taught. “So would I.” He moved down to nuzzle the sensitive flesh of her neck. “Will you let me, Sophie?” He spoke softly against her ear, causing the goose bumps to race over her skin. “Will you let me fill you again?”
Somehow their topic of discussion had changed from simply fishing to something much deeper and more raw. Sophie felt the heat in her lower region as it began to build and intensify.
“I want you, Sophie. You know that.”
The night they’d shared was completely wrong and should never have happened. While every cell in her body screamed for him, she would not make the same mistake twice. Suddenly Cole lay back on the huge rock and with an easy twist maneuvered her on top of him, face-to-face. Her forearms rested against his broad shoulders and she looked down into those emerald-green eyes. His body was at once hard and pliant, allowing her body to sink into the power of his.
“Kiss me.” It was only a whispered request but she was so attuned to him she wouldn’t have missed his words if he was a mile away.
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
“I think it’s a terrific idea.” One hand moved from around her lower back up to her head as he gently encouraged her lips to come closer to his.
“Clay, I—” She opened her mouth but before words could form, he lifted his head and his lips found hers. They were hungry and he didn’t hesitate filling the cavern of her mouth with his tongue. It was everything she remembered and more. Without any doubt Clay was the sexiest man she had ever come into contact with. He was temptation run amok with an element of danger on the side.
Her feelings for him had slowly come about in the months after the accident. But rather than pay heed and stay well away from him, she was drawn to him more than ever. The carefree, fun-loving bachelor, the love-’em-and-leave-’em guy, had been gone, replaced by a man of serious intent.
Part of her wanted nothing more than to give him whatever he wanted; the other part, the smart side of her, wanted to run away as fast as she could. He had a ruthlessness she’d always known was there but felt secure knowing he kept it bottled inside. Since the abandonment by his fiancée, he was no longer in control of the anger and merciless drive. It both drew her to him and pushed her away out of self-preservation.
Only one thing was certain: this attraction to her boss was going to eventually cause a rift between them.
She turned her face away, breaking off the kiss she wanted more than air in her lungs. She realized she was now lying on the huge boulder with Clay above her, her head held in his large hand, his erection pressing hard against the apex of her thighs. Of its own accord, before she could summon the strength to stop it, her body pressed against him. Hard. She heard him moan, deep and hungry, and the heat of desire exploded inside her, igniting every vein. He cupped her breasts, first one then the other. Unbuttoning her shirt, he pushed her bra aside and his lips and tongue teased the stiff peaks.
Voices. Through the sex-filled haze, her brain picked up on the distant sound of voices.
“Clay,” she whispered. “Clay, someone’s coming this way.”
“Let ’em.”
“No! Clay, stop. Please.” Her own voice was breathy. The last thing she wanted to do at that moment was to push him away. She was in rapture such as she’d known only one other time in her life: with Clay.
Finally he heeded her words and sat up. He drew in several deep breaths of air then turned toward her, his voice deep and full of determination. “I want you, Sophie. I want you so bad it hurts. One time was nowhere near enough. Mark it down as a friendly warning. I will have you again.”
Offering his hand, he pulled her to her feet. She quickly repositioned her bra and began to fasten the buttons of her blouse. Clay watched her with a gleam in his darkened eyes.
Before either could say anything more, three of the ranch hands rode their horses around the grove of pine trees and into clear view.
“We came to fix that downed fence,” one of the riders said to Clay. “But looks like somebody already beat us to it.”
They continued to talk while Sophie edged her way toward her horse. Mounting her ride, she eased into the saddle, content to wait for Clay from there. Eventually, the three cowboys turned their horses around and headed back to the barn, and Clay faced her with a lopsided grin.
“Well, it was nice while it lasted,” he said as he mounted his horse.
“What?” she asked, her brows furled in a frown. “Oh,” she corrected as she realized exactly what he was referring to: their brief time in each other’s arms.
“Ms. Prescott? You certainly know how to make a man feel desirable.” With a shake of his head he reined his horse toward the trail leading back to the ranch. Sophie followed, biting her tongue.
Impertinent man.
Four
The days of summer rolled into Texas, raising the temperatures and bringing thunder that rumbled across the sky, hinting at rain that rarely fell. But despite the heat, both the ranch and the small town of Royal were abuzz with activity. Tonight the Texas Cattleman’s Club Fourth of July celebration would be held. A large terrace had been built at the back of the clubhouse building. Complete with retractable awnings in case of rain and a soundstage for the twelve-piece orchestra selected to play in time with the fireworks, this year’s festivities were expected to be the celebration of all celebrations. Just seeing the huge deck raised Sophie’s excitement level.
She had volunteered to oversee selecting and ordering the wines and ingredients for the various cocktails along with stemware, plates and bowls for the pies and ice-cream dessert. She’d done similar tasks before when Clay held a formal dinner consisting of six courses for fifty couples at his ranch house. Even though more people would be in attendance tonight, this was a piece of cake by comparison.
Earlier she’d opened the door to the clubhouse and stepped into a whirlwind of activity. A dozen or so volunteers each had their assigned task lists. Sophie recognized a few of Clay’s ranch hands right off the bat. In fact, she’d caught a ride over with George and Alan. They were the strong arms. Aided by a couple more cowboys from the nearby ranches, they would unload the truck moving all the cases of wine, champagne and various setups for cocktails into the storage room.
Checking off each case, she unpacked the sample of plates and glassware. In light of the occasion, she’d selected an assortment of William Avington china in red, white and blue with gold rims and matching inner gold circles on the plates and matching gold rims on the coffee cups, saucers and bowls. But, as Simone Parker had told her, at only a couple of hundred dollars per setting, it wouldn’t be a great loss if some were broken. At that thought, Sophie rolled her eyes and smiled. Not exactly like the Independence Day celebrations back home where her dad would cook hot dogs on a homemade grill in the backyard while her mom made her family-famous potato salad and baked beans, usually served on paper plates. The beverages consisted of beer for the adults and lemonade for the kids. How in the world had she managed to land in such a totally different world?
“Are you almost finished?” a deep voice asked. She didn’t have to turn around and look at Clay’s tanned face to know it was him.
“Just about. Did you need me for something?”
Sophie glanced at Gayle Brown, one of the volunteers, who stood tongue-tied in front of her, staring over Sophie’s shoulder at Clay. He leaned down to Sophie and whispered, “Ask me that when we’re alone.” Aloud he said, “Can I offer you a ride home?”
She turned and smiled at him. “That would be great. Thank you.”
“Okay, Gayle, where were we?”
“The wine is... We...we were at the wine,” she stammered, her eyes glued to Clay, who was casually dressed in his T-shirt, a pair of holey jeans and well-worn boots. He could easily wow the pants off any woman in the room. And he didn’t have to be a billionaire to do it.
Sophie hoped the woman wouldn’t literally start to drool.
“And...what about the wine?”
“The... Oh. It’s here. And the new champagne flutes came in last week. They are expecting about five hundred members and guests, give or take, based on past years. If there are more, the kitchen crew will keep the dishwashers going full-time.”
“Sophie, I have a total count of the stemware,” said another volunteer, smiling intently at Clay. “Where do you want them set up?”
Sophie looked around the vast room. There was no place for all of the stemware in the main ballroom. “Let’s set up a table for each type at points around the room. There are six serving stations. I think we need to break down what type of beverage we will be serving, what glasses we need and put out a large tray for the used glasses at each one. I’m betting there will only be enough room for thirty to forty glasses. The rest will have to be brought from the back as needed.”
“Okay. Sounds like a good plan to me,” Gayle replied. “I’ll find Martha and we’ll get started on it.”
“Perfect.” Sophie smiled at Gayle, who had again locked her gaze on Clay. “And make sure each station has plenty of cocktail napkins and stir sticks. Can you think of anything else we missed?”
“Ah. No?” Gayle turned to Sophie. “Some of the guys are manhandling—” she cleared her throat “—the...the ice for the drinks, but like with the glasses, most of it’s gonna have to be kept in cold...ah, hum, excuse me, storage in the back and brought out as needed.” She gulped the air deep into her lungs as though she wouldn’t have another opportunity. Ever.
“Good enough. Do you happen to know if the two ice sculptures have arrived?”
“No, ma’am. I haven’t seen them and I haven’t heard anyone talking about them.”
“Sounds like I need to make a couple of phone calls. Thanks so much for your help, Gayle.”
“Ah...sure. No problem.”
“You’re not helping.” Sophie glared at Clay after Gayle hurried off.
“What did I do?”
She rolled her eyes. “You showed up.” She received a pursed-lip smile in response. He knew exactly the effect he had on women.
Clay stood by patiently while she grabbed her cell phone. “Let me call and check on the ice sculptures.” She hurriedly placed the call. A few minutes later she was satisfied the sculptures were on their way and all was good. Absently smiling, she turned to Clay.
“All good on the ice sculptures?” he asked.
“Yep. Both sculptures are en route and should arrive in the next hour. Someone else can take over from here.”
The day seemed to have gone fast, but by the time she arrived at her little cottage, it would be past six o’clock. Then she could enjoy a long soak in a hot tub and read herself to sleep.
“Members of the club voted to have a pavilion built adjacent to the flower gardens on the west side of the clubhouse,” said Clay.
“Yes. I saw it this afternoon. It’s nice. I think they will be serving the barbecue there tonight. People can then go inside and be seated at a table or dine at one of the new tables outside.”
Excitement ran high. People not associated with the TCC came from miles around to watch what had gained a reputation as the best firework display in the state. Sophie would be happy to watch the fireworks from her little back porch and enjoy a little R & R at home instead.
“Okay. I’m finished. There are plenty of other volunteers to cover anything that might come up.”
Most of them only wanted to get a look inside the vast TCC clubhouse. Only a chosen few had ever seen the interior since it was established more than a hundred years ago. Only recently had the club begun to allow select women to become members and while Clay said it was a good thing, many members still didn’t like it.
With the warmth of his large hand on her lower back, Clay accompanied Sophie out of the building and to his car.
Once they were both seated in his Porsche Spyder, Clay looked toward her and smiled.
“I’ll pick you up at eight. The orchestra will be playing and the fireworks are slated to start at nine.”
His words brought up memories of the last time they’d attended a social function.
“I’m not going to the fireworks. I’ll just watch them from my house.”
“Then I’ll watch with you. I have to make an appearance at the club but I don’t have to stay long. Would nine o’clock be okay?”
“Clay, I’m tired and all I want is a quiet night starting with a hot soak in the tub. I imagine most of the women that will be here tonight would love your invitation.”
“I doubt you’re right about that, but at any rate I’m not asking them. I want you to come with me and see the fireworks from the club. I want you to be my guest.” His voice lowered. “I want to be with you.”
“We are together five, sometimes six days a week,” she said and laughed. “Surely you’re getting tired of my company by now.”
“Never.”
“Clay...” It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be with him. She dreamed of him every night and had recently begun to daydream about him at work, for heaven’s sake. It wasn’t that she cared about who in the town saw them together or the rumors of a relationship between them that had no doubt spread after the masked ball. After the gossip that had flown hot and heavy in her hometown, a love affair with a billionaire was nothing. But Clay didn’t know about those other rumors. And she wasn’t ready to tell him. She wasn’t ready to discuss that with anybody.
It had been really hard to carry on with her life after the night he made love to her two months ago. Seeing him every day in his office, answering his phone, taking his messages, being polite to the women who called him, making excuses when he wouldn’t call them back. He said there was no one else he wanted to talk to unless it was business. About half of the callers didn’t want to disclose their business to her. She’d tried and all they said was it was personal. When she filled the top of his desk with message slips, he had glanced over them before tossing them into the trash. At seeing her astonishment, he always responded with a quick wink and that smile that made her heart go ten times faster.
Eventually other rumors replaced the talk about her and Clay and since their relationship really had nowhere to go, she preferred to keep things just as they were.
“Sophie, it’s a fireworks display. We’ll probably eat hot dogs off paper plates—”
Her eyes flashed to his face to see if he was joking. The mischievous smile he fought to hide told her he was. “Not hardly.”
“And watch a beautiful display of lights in the sky while we dance.”
He rested his right hand on the stick shift of the elegant Porsche and caught her eyes with his. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I don’t want to make you the subject of the town’s gossips. But I do want to be with you where no phones or computers get in the way.”
He pulled the transmission into first gear. “At least think about it. “
She nodded and silently called herself every type of idiot.
In a vehicle that was known to go from zero to sixty in under three seconds, it didn’t take long to flash through town and pull up in front of her small cottage. Clay killed the engine and looked longingly at Sophie.
“Okay. Fine. If you’re going to make this a big deal, I’ll go.”
“I’ll pick you up at eight.” He flashed that sexy smile in her direction.
Sophie nodded. She didn’t know if Clay was smiling because he’d won the argument or because he was happy that she was going out with him that evening. In the long run it really didn’t matter. She would go. People would talk. She just hoped that the gossip would never reach anyone in her hometown in northern Indiana. Clay was worried about her reputation. He really should be worried about his own.
“Eight o’clock,” she confirmed. “Thanks for the ride home.”
He waited until she reached the front porch, then was out of sight before she closed the door. Cowboys did like their toys.
* * *
The new black stretch limo slowed as it came to a stop in front of the small blue-and-white cottage. Cole had invited Sophie to be his date for the Independence Day celebration and found himself holding his breath until she accepted. He knew several of the men who had called for her over the course of the week and he was pretty sure she’d not accepted any invitation. While he was not willing to commit to another woman—even Sophie—after his ex-fiancée, neither was he willing to take a chance another man would slip in between Sophie and him. She’d hesitantly accepted. In fact, since he had made love to her two months ago after the charity ball, she’d been as fleeting as a deer during hunting season. And so she should have been. Because he was pursuing her. And he would have her again. It was only a matter of time.
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