A Cowboy in Manhattan (17 page)

“What does that mean?”

“It means, you like truffles, and I’m going to feed them to you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, mulishly screwing her face. “Then I’m not coming over there.”

“Oh, yes, you are.” Reed leaned forward, wrapping his hands around her rib cage, easily lifting her, pushing a wave through the tub ahead of her as he moved her to his lap.

“Hey!” She held her glass of merlot out to one side to keep it from spilling.

He settled her. “That’s better.”

The water sloshed back to level, and he retrieved his own glass of wine.

“You are impossible,” she huffed.

“Not my fault,” he defended, giving in to temptation and placing a soft kiss on her hairline. “I did try to talk you out of this.”

“The hot tub?”

“All of this. Coming to my hotel room. Making love again.”

“Oh, that.” Her body relaxed, curling into his. “I guess that was my first mistake.”

He loved it when she cuddled against him. She felt custom-made to fit his arms. Her hair held the subtle scent of wildflowers. Her skin was petal-soft. Her face was as beautiful as an angel’s.

“Or maybe it was my second mistake,” she mused, kissing his wet shoulder. “The first was forcing you to take me up to Brome Ridge to fix that broken pump.” She rubbed the water droplets on his bicep. “Then again, I suppose I never should have looked into your eyes that first day I came home. That’s where it all really started.” Her tongue followed her fingertips, swirling against his heated skin.

“You were attracted?” he asked, curious.

She nodded. “I could feel the sparks from across the room.”

“I was pretty much a goner then, too.” He sighed. “Why did you have to turn out so beautiful?”

Though
beautiful
didn’t even begin to describe her. She was smart and sassy and funny, and she messed with his hormones simply by breathing.

“It’s an anthropological defense mechanism,” she offered. “If I can’t accomplish any hard work, I can at least be decorative.”

“Stop that,” he told her gruffly.

“Stop what?”

“Quit insulting yourself. You work damn hard dancing.”

She gazed up at him, apparently unaffected by his angry tone. “Do you think you might be just a bit biased?”

“No.”

Some of the light went out of her blue eyes. “It’s not the same thing as being productive.”

Wanting to be clear on this, he sat up straight, moving her to face him.

She sorted her legs out and straddled his lap.

“It’s exactly the same thing. You’re an incredibly accomplished woman, princess. Your family, any family anywhere, should be thrilled and proud to have you as a member.”

A smile grew on her face, and she reached up to touch his cheek. Her hand was warm from the water. Her breasts rose above the frothy surface, nipples peeking in and out.

“Yet, you still call me princess.”

“Do you hate it?”

She shook her head. “Not when you say it.”

“Good.” He liked having a special name for her. He’d once meant it as derogatory, but those days had long since passed.

She gave a poignant smile. “You’re not at all what I expected.”

“Neither are you.” He’d thought she was spoiled, frivolous, skipping merrily through life on her looks, never giving a thought to anything beyond her own sphere of luxury. She was anything but that. She was a hard worker, a deep thinker, emotionally sensitive, easily hurt and acutely aware of the negative opinions ignorant people formed about her.

Their gazes met, and he couldn’t seem to stop himself from kissing her. The kiss deepened and his arms wound around her. Her smooth body pressed intimately against his, heat building between them, tantalizing him, making him ache for her all over again.

He drew back sharply, his breath ragged, frightened by how close he was to throwing caution to the wind. “I am
not
making love to you without a condom.”

She downed the rest of her merlot, setting aside both of their glasses.

To his surprise, her eyes danced with amusement. She stroked the pad of her thumb across his lips. “Reed, darling,” she purred. “You have
got
to stop telling me things you won’t do.”

“You’re like a spoiled child.” But he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean it at all.

Despite her rebellious words, she obviously took pity on him, turning in his lap, sitting sideways, still tempting, but not nearly as dangerous.

“We’ll do it your way,” she agreed, looping her arms loosely around his neck and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Because I know we can’t make love right now. And I like it here with you.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But I want to make love. I
really
want to.”

“You’re killing me, Katrina.”

She sighed against him. “Get used to it.”

And that was the biggest problem of all. He was already used to it. He liked it here, too. The merlot was delicious, the truffles delectable, the view memorable and, if he had his way, he’d hold Katrina naked in his arms forever.

“You said they didn’t know who you were,” Reed challenged from where he stood in the glassed-in atrium of the harbor-tour cruise ship.

He was staring at the small magazine rack, the Statue of Liberty visible through the glass behind him.

“They didn’t,” she assured him, peering at the small square photo on the bottom corner of the tabloid newspaper. It had been taken last night as they exited the limo.

“Well, not last night, anyway,” she allowed “They must have looked it up later.”

“Katrina Jacobs on the town,” he read. “You want to buy it and read the story?”

“I don’t need to read the story. I was there, remember?”

“You think they caught us kissing in the park?”

“Do you care?”

“Not at all. Well, maybe if Travis saw it. He’d sure be ticked off. But to these anonymous New Yorkers?” Reed waved a dismissive hand. “I’m the guy who kissed the prima ballerina. I can strut.”

“I’m a principal dancer.”

He gave a mock frown. “That doesn’t sound nearly as exotic.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Quit complaining. I had to kiss a cowboy.”

He leaned in close and snagged her hand, voice gravelly. “You did a hell of a lot more than kiss him.”

The words spurred a hot shiver of remembrance. But she couldn’t act on it in public.

Then a family entered the atrium, adding to the crowd, and Reed gently urged her toward the glass door. It slid smoothly open, and they exited onto the windy deck, finding an empty place at the rail.

“You going to come and watch me dance tonight?” she opened. She wished she dared ask him how long he was planning to stay in the city. That was what she really wanted to know. But she’d promised herself she wouldn’t push.

“Am I invited?” he asked in return, his gaze fixed on the Manhattan skyline, growing closer as their two-hour tour came to an end.

“Absolutely.”

“Then I’ll be there.”

“I have to be at the theater a few hours early, but I’ll leave a ticket at the box office.” She tried not to let her excitement rise at the thought of Reed in the audience, but her heartbeat deepened and her chest felt fuzzy. She’d dance for him tonight. It would be all for him.

“You can come backstage afterward,” she offered.

He was silent for a long moment.

“If you’d like,” she added, growing uncomfortable.

“Sure.” There was no inflection in his tone.

Had she made a misstep? It was impossible to tell, and the silence stretched between them.

“New York really is different from Colorado,” he observed.

“Taller buildings?” she asked, not really caring. Did he want to come backstage or not? Did he want to see her after the performance? Would he invite her back to the hotel? Or was he already searching for a way to let her down easily?

“Taller buildings, more noise, more people, more…I don’t know…life, I guess.”

She turned to study his profile. “Is it that bad?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I can’t imagine what it was like for you at ten years old.”

“I didn’t see it all at once,” she remembered. “I saw the airport, then Auntie Coco’s apartment. I knew there was a lot of traffic on the streets, but I never guessed how far the city sprawled.”

“Were you frightened by the crowds?”

She shook her head. “Ironically, I was lonely. But I liked the dancing, and I liked the sparkling lights.” She smiled to herself. “I particularly liked the sidewalks. I liked that you could sweep the dirt away, and they were clean and smooth.”

“I like dirt,” said Reed.

“Is that a joke?” She couldn’t tell.

“It’s life,” he said. “The dirt is what starts everything. You add seeds, and they grow into plants that get eaten by animals. And at the end of a day, if you’re dirty and sweaty, and you smell like the outdoors, you know you’ve done good. You’ve worked hard. Something that wasn’t there that morning now exists. It could be a stack of hay bales, a fence, a working motor, some clean tack. It doesn’t matter what it is. Just that you did it.”

“I hate getting dirty,” Katrina reaffirmed. Not that Reed would be surprised by that statement. It was the constant dust on her clothes and the grit in her hair that had made her most crazy growing up.

“You’re such a girl,” he teased.

“Good thing I’m pretty.”

His smile disappeared. “You’re more than just pretty.” He looked as though he was about to say something else. But then he stopped. He drew a breath. “Ever been to the Empire State Building?”

“I have.”

“You want to go again?”

“With you?” Her chest hitched.

“Tomorrow?”

She gathered her courage. “So, you’re staying a little longer?”

“I was invited to a party on Saturday night.”

At the restaurant last night, Elizabeth had extended an invitation to Reed for Liberty’s largest annual fundraising gala.

“You were noncommittal. I thought that was your polite way of turning her down.” Truth was, Katrina had also thought he was signaling to her his intention to leave before the weekend.

He chuckled. “Do you think she cares if I’m polite?”

“She liked you,” Katrina told him honestly. She’d rarely seen Elizabeth warm up to someone the way she’d warmed up to Reed. It was obvious enough that Katrina had felt a little jealous at the time. Maybe that’s why she’d pushed him so hard to sleep with her last night.

Oh, wow. That wasn’t particularly admirable.

Then she let herself off the hook. Sleeping with Reed had nothing to do with Elizabeth. Katrina simply wasn’t ready to let go of the intimacy they’d found together in the line shack.

He was a great guy and an amazing lover. And she couldn’t imagine herself with anybody else. Which meant, once this was over, lovemaking was over for her for a very, very long time.

“I liked her, too,” said Reed.

“So, you’re coming to the party?”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind meeting a few more of the Liberty Ballet notables.”

“You’re going to need a tux. This is a pretty high-end affair.”

“No problem. I’ll go see Salvatore.”

“You’re going back to Brooklyn for a tux?”

“I like Salvatore. Besides, I own part of his company now. He’ll have to give me a good price.”

“Just out of curiosity.” Katrina turned and leaned her back against the rounded metal rail, asking a question that had nagged at her since last night. “How did you decide to buy into a tailor shop in Brooklyn?”

He shrugged. “Instinct more than anything. I was in Brooklyn yesterday, and Nico recommended Salvatore. We got to talking about his business. He needed some help, and it made sense to me to help him out. In the end, I looked him in the eyes. I liked him, and I liked his business.”

“Who’s Nico?”

“The guy who owns the bakery I’m buying into.”

Katrina got a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Are you saying this all happened yesterday?”

“While you were rehearsing.”

She was dying to ask him how much he’d invested. She was terrified that Nico and this Salvatore character had seen Reed coming. “How do you know he didn’t rip you off?”

“I’m a good judge of character.”

“Maybe in Colorado. But this is New York City.”

“Are you questioning my judgment?”

“Yes,” she answered honestly.

The muscles in his neck went tight, and she braced herself.

But when he finally spoke, his tone was neutral. “Don’t worry about it.”

“How much—” She stopped herself. “Never mind. None of my business.”

“That’s right.”

“I’m sorry.”

The wind whistled past them.