Colorado 01 The Gamble (14 page)

I didn’t share that I barely knew Max
therefore he didn’t mean anything to me (at least I was telling
myself that) but Cotton was on the move and Max had bid him
good-bye.

“It was an honor to meet you, Cotton,” I
called after him, he stopped and turned back.

Then he asked the bizarre question, “Yeah?
Why?”

“Because…” I felt funny under his strangely
intense scrutiny and finished lamely, “you’re Jimmy Cotton.”

“Just a man.”

“A man with a way with a camera.”

“Lotsa those,” Cotton said dismissively,
clearly not one who enjoyed praise from an inexpert like me but
probably, I was guessing, from anyone.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly but loud enough
for him to hear. “I’ve been to my fair share of exhibitions, only
yours made my heart hurt because my system couldn’t process the
beauty that met my eyes.”

Max went still at my side and Cotton pulled
in such a deep breath, his chest puffed out.

“So,” I kept talking softly, “you’re not
just a man with a camera. Not to me. You’re Jimmy Cotton, your
photographs gave me that, I loved it, I’m grateful and because of
that, I’m honored to meet you.”

He watched me for several moments, the old
man cantankerous look he’d perfected slipping, his face getting
soft. He tipped his chin up at me, gave a short wave, turned,
climbing, and he rounded the bluff.

I watched him go and I suspected Max did
too.

I watched longer because I felt Max’s arm
give me a squeeze to get my attention.

“Ready to go back?” he asked when I looked
up at him.

“No,” I blurted, his eyebrows came up in
question and then I blew out a sigh before suggesting, “Can we ride
around on the snowmobile for awhile?”

He grinned then offered, “You want me to
teach you how to drive?”

I shook my head fast and his grin turned to
a smile.

“Baby steps,” I said to him.

“You got it, Duchess,” he replied, walked me
to the snowmobile, we got on and Max drove me around for a good,
long while and, I had to admit, I enjoyed every, single moment.

* * * * *

I rinsed the lunch plates in Max’s kitchen
sink and told myself it was high time that I got back to being a
smart, sane, rational person again.

We’d driven around in the mountains on his
snowmobile for awhile, Max showing me more views, a few more of his
favorite places, all of them beautiful, none of them quite as
spectacular as the bluff. I took some photos, even one of Max I
told myself I shouldn’t take and hoped he didn’t notice I was
taking it. He was gazing over a valley, his handsome profile
relaxed and, well… handsome. Too handsome not to capture on film
with that valley spread out behind him, so I did and I did it
quickly, prepared to pretend I was only taking a photo of the
valley.

Then we rode back and I put together a late
lunch while Max put away the snowmobile then came in and built a
fire in the grate in the living room.

We ate the shrimp, avocado and mayo
sandwiches on white I made, me at my stool, Max standing at the
counter in front of me, both of us silent. Max, seemingly
comfortably so, me, not at all.

When he finished eating, I offered, “If
you’ll fire up the computer while I clean up the kitchen, I’ll
change your password.”

“Sounds good,” he muttered, sucking back a
swig of cola and rounding the bar. I felt him get close to me as he
went and was in the act of turning to him when I felt his hand curl
around my neck, palm at my throat then his lips were at my hair at
the top of my head. His fingers gave my neck a squeeze, he let go
and without a word he walked away.

I sat there immobilized, uncertain what to
make of Max’s casual ability to be affectionate in pretty much
every way, verbally, physically, with his face, his eyes. I knew
how it made me
feel
, which was
a dangerous feeling and I knew it would be dangerously easy to get
used to it, I just didn’t know what to make of it.

Yes, it was time to be smart, sane and
rational and get out of there before I let my mind wander to what
I
wanted
to make
of it.

I put the dishes in the dishwasher, wiped
down the counters and grabbed my diet cola.

By the time I hit the alcove, Max was
sitting at the roll top, the screen on the computer was lit.

“What do you want me to change it to?” I
asked as he rose from the chair and held its back for me to sit in
it so I did and he stood at my side.

“I’m thinkin’ shebitchfromhell666 might
continue to be a reminder of Shauna,” Max muttered drily.

I pressed my lips together in order not to
laugh and slid my eyes up to look at him.

Then I unpressed my lips and asked, “So what
do you want?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It has to be something you can
remember.”

“Nina, honestly, it doesn’t matter. It could
be one, two, three, four.”

I shook my head in horror and advised, “It
can’t be one, two, three, four. That’s
way
too easy to hack.”

“Considerin’ I check my e-mail about once
every three months, dump most of it, check the weather every once
in awhile and got nothin’ else on there, ain’t nothin’ to
hack.”

I sighed and explained, “Yes but you rent
this place and other people could use it, look up porn, maybe even
icky stuff.”

He grinned. “Icky stuff?”

I ignored his grin and the way it
communicated he thought I was adorable (and the way that made me
feel) and continued, “Icky stuff, icky stuff that could get you
into trouble. Don’t you watch television?”

“Not much.”

“Well, your every day pedophile probably
wouldn’t hesitate renting a beautiful, A-Frame in the mountains and
enjoying himself by accessing your one, two, three, four
computer.”

“Jesus, darlin’.”

“
Sick people are everywhere. Just
watch
Criminal Minds
.”

“If that’s their subject matter, I’m
thinkin’ I’ll avoid it.”

“
It’s really good,” I told him, warming to
my topic because I liked that show and therefore I idiotically lost
myself and did not keep my mouth
shut
. “They have this really smart, genius guy who’s
fascinating. And this really sharp, tough lady. And this hilarious
computer mastermind who wears funky clothes and always has perfect
lipstick. And they almost always get the bad guy.”

He was grinning down at me again when he
muttered, “Sounds like I’m missin’ out.”

“It’s worth it just for Penelope Garcia’s
lipstick and the stuff she wears in her hair, trust me,” I
shared.

I stopped talking when I saw his eyes
start glittering and his body start shaking and his face
definitely
said he thought I was
adorable.

Instead, I looked at the computer and got
down to business, clicking through the screens to take me to the
window that changed the password and I asked, “What’s your favorite
number?”

“Lucky number’s three.”

I pulled in breath through my nostrils. That
was my favorite number.

And it was Charlie’s.

“Okay, then, something three…” I
prompted.

“Make it up, Nina.”

“Give me something to go on.”

“Just make it up, I’ll write it down and
hide it somewhere.”

I looked up at him. “Max –”

He cut me off and said, “Three duchess
three.”

I wasn’t certain but I was pretty sure I
felt the blood draining from my face.

I didn’t shift my eyes from the screen when
I asked, “Sorry?”

“Three duchess three, I won’t forget
that.”

“But –”

“Type it in, babe.”

“But, Max –”

“Type it in.”

I sat there paralyzed and when I didn’t move
Max leaned into me, picking out the letters on the keyboard with
one finger then again to confirm then his hand covered mine on the
mouse and he clicked “OK”.

His hand still on mine on the mouse, he
twisted his head to look at me and he said, “That should do
it.”

“I have to go,” I blurted and watched his
brows draw together.

“What?”

I slid my hand from under his, rolled the
chair away as he straightened and I stood, repeating, “I’ve got to
go.” I held out my hand, palm up and requested, “Can I have my car
keys?”

His brows were still knitted when he asked,
“Where you goin’?”

“To town.”

“To shop?”

“To check into the hotel.”

He took a step toward me murmuring,
“Duchess.”

I took a step back.

He stopped, his brows snapped together again
and his face grew dark.

“What the fuck?”

“Thanks for, you know, today and last night
and everything but, I have to go.”

“Why?”

Why?

There were so many reasons we’d both be
eighty if I took the time to enumerate them all.

“I just do.”

“Give me a reason.”

“Max –”

“One,” he demanded firmly.

“Okay,” I said to get it over with, “maybe
I’ve got it wrong, what’s happening here, but if I don’t perhaps I
should remind you, I’m wearing another man’s engagement ring.”

“
You don’t gotta remind
me
, Duchess, you gotta remind
you
.”

Oh drat.

I was getting angry, I could feel it.

“I’m sorry?” I said quietly.

“No woman had my ring on her finger when I
got into bed with you last night.”

“Yes, well,” I leaned toward him, “I’m glad
you brought that up.”

“Because you’re pissed I did it?”

“Yes!”

“Then why’d you wake up at two and stay in
bed with me until mornin’?”

I stared at him at a loss for words mainly
because any explanation I could give him I was
never
going to give him. And I realized, belatedly, even
if it was to give him something as important as a rock solid alibi
when the police popped by to question him as a potential murder
suspect, perhaps I shouldn’t have shared that tidbit.

Then I announced, “I’m leaving,” and I
started to walk around him but he took a quick step to his left and
caught me by the waist, pulling me in front of him. “Take your
hands off me!” I snapped but his arms wrapped around me tight,
bringing me up full frontal to his body.

“This is something we both wanna explore,”
he declared, my eyes narrowed and I wedged my arms between us, my
hands against his chest.

“This?”

“What we got, what’s happenin’ here, you and
me.”

“It is not!”

“No?”

“No.”

He looked over my head and clipped out,
“Christ, you’re full of shit.”

“I am not!”

He looked back at me, giving me a shake. “Oh
yeah, Nina, you are.”

“
You don’t even
know
me!”

“I know enough I wanna know more.”

“
Well, you
can’t
know more. I’m leaving.”

“You’re stayin’.”

“You can’t keep me here.”

“I can.”

“That’s –”

“And you wanna stay.”

I shook my head in disbelief and cried,
“You’re infuriating!”

“And you love every fuckin’ second.”

My mouth made a “poof” noise at such a
display of arrogance and I pushed against his chest. His hand slid
up my spine, bringing me closer, pinning my hands between us as I
watched his neck bend.

I had a feeling I knew where this was
going.

“Max,” I warned, my body bracing.

“Quiet,” he ordered softly. “Got a point to
make, honey.”

“Max!” I snapped.

“Let’s see how good this could be,” he
muttered, his eyes on my mouth and I knew, I just knew, he was
going to kiss me.

“Max, don’t you –”

But his fingers had sifted into my hair
against my scalp cupping my head, holding me steady and his mouth
came down on mine, cutting off my words.

And considering my mouth was open, he didn’t
miss the opportunity to slide his tongue inside.

My body froze when his tongue touched
mine.

Then my hands curled into his shirt and my
body melted.

His tongue felt good, it tasted good, it
was all just
good
. Not just
good. It was better than good. I missed this, I loved kissing and,
Lord, did I miss it.

My eyes drifted closed, my head tilted and
that was it, I was lost.

And then Max
really
kissed me and I became so lost, I never wanted to
be found.

It wasn’t good.

It was astounding. He was just as amazing a
kisser as he looked amazing, maybe more, and that was saying
something.

My toes curled in my boots, my hands
glided up his chest to wrap my arms around his neck, my body
pressed the length of his and my stomach did a somersault before it
plummeted in a delicious way. I felt a tingle between my legs that
was more than delicious, it was
luscious
and, given all of that, I had no choice but to
open myself up to him.

And I did.

When I did, Max took and he took and he
took. And I gave and I didn’t care if he drained me dry, in fact, I
wanted him to.

His mouth broke from mine, his head came up,
my fingers which were in his hair put on pressure and he whispered,
his gravelly voice actually hoarse, “Jesus, honey.”

“
More,” I breathed, not even opening my
eyes and his mouth came back to mine, he gave me what I wanted and
I loved every
bleeding
second.

Somewhere in the back of my head, I
realized he was moving, taking me with him, shuffling us what I
understood was toward the couch and I was happy to be going there,
couldn’t wait to get there, couldn’t wait to explore Max
more
and let him explore
me
, when the
phone rang.