Secret Desire (12 page)

He wanted her, she could hear it, feel it, but he was giving her space, time to adjust to the change in their relationship. He threw the ball again and ran his hand through his hair. He smiled and his gaze roamed over her in a way that made her go weak.

“Until later.” She tilted her chin up, and he kissed her firmly, as if sealing some sort of deal. He squeezed her body before letting go again. He started to walk her out of the barn.

“Really, I’m fine. You go back to what you were doing.”

“I doubt I’ll be able to concentrate.” He grinned at her. She returned his smile then walked backward for a few steps.

“See you soon.” She turned away and had to fight to keep from giggling like a girl. God, was this really happening? Her fantasy of Dustin shifted into reality, making her body sizzle again just by thinking of him. She’d played this scene over and over. Dustin taking her in this very erotic spot. She groaned at the memory of his perfect body in the barn.

She couldn’t put away her romantic notions and was holding out for an over-the-top first time. She imagined when they made love tonight, their first time would be in a big soft bed after being so turned on neither could wait another day. Hot, yes, but with romance so heady to make her heart weep with pleasure…him seducing her and she beguiling him. She wanted to feel the chase, at least the first time.

She floated across the yard. Her whole being tingled. She wanted to sing. Her soul was ready to sigh. Her heart was melting.

Claire glanced back from the gate. Dustin had waited for her to cross the yard. He waved and then turned back to the barn. In a moment, she could hear he’d returned to pounding on the bike, and then his whistle floated across the yard. The sound filled her with a yearning to go back, to forget her plan to clean out the kitchen. Claire’s heart pounded, clip clopping, loud and swift beats already seeing the scene unfold of what might happen tonight between them.

* * *

She finished cleaning out the refrigerator and cabinets. She made piles along the counter and used the kitchen table to further separate out items. Some were keepers and some she set out for donation. The rest she bagged and boxed and moved to the porch. She wheeled out the garbage can to the driveway and filled the can with the perishable contents of the refrigerator. Only a couple of bottles of wine and juice as well as coffee, canned goods, and sugar remained. Not even Fran could argue with how well she’d taken care of removing and cleaning the contents of the kitchen.

She glanced down at her watch. Four forty-five. She’d let the time get away from her. Dustin probably thought she’d show up as usual. Wet hair, no makeup and some wrinkled outfit. Well, not tonight. She walked inside and made a beeline for the bathroom. She ran water into the tub, deciding she’d take a bath. She luxuriated in bubbles, taking little time to truly relax but enough to get squeaky clean. Finally she stood before the mirror, combing her hair and tried to envision what she’d wear.

Standing wrapped in a towel, she stood over her suitcase filled with dark colors. She’d already worn her only summer dress. She pulled out clothing that was black, somber, and conservative. Not a piece of clothing that whispered provocative. She walked to her old closet. Her mother hadn’t gotten rid of one item. She fingered the hangers and stopped to look at her riding pants, worn-out jeans, and even a tiny pink tutu.

She rapidly crossed over hangers until she came to a light, aquamarine blue dress. She removed the hanger and ripped off the plastic from the drycleaners. This was the dress she’d given her salutatorian speech in for graduation. It wasn’t exactly sexy but without the short jacket, it was strapless, somewhat feminine, and elegant.

Claire pushed boxes back on the shelf, pulling out one particular shoe box. She opened the top, and inside were strappy high-heeled sandals. She’d always had a fascination with pretty shoes. These were made from lizard skin. She tried each shoe on, wrapping the long laces up her legs.

She dropped her towel, turned and peered over her shoulder into the mirror, dressed in nothing but a thong and high heels. This was so not her style. But she imagined this was what one of her characters would wear, and she took a breath. It was time she stopped feeling out of place in her own story. Tonight she wanted to look sexy. She stepped into the dress and worked at the back zipper. She peered into the mirror. A little tight across the chest but the rest of the dress fit as if she’d just bought it recently. It was five-thirty and she still needed to do something with her hair.

She took out her blow dryer and crossed to Fran’s closet. Somewhere she’d seen…there they were. Hot curlers. Ready in five minutes. She finished blowing her hair dry. She wanted to do her hair like she’d seen other women wearing—long, soft curls. She didn’t have time to practice and did what she imagined was required. She opened her makeup bag and sighed at the limited assortment of goods.

She went to her mother’s room and scouted around the vanity. Her mother didn’t have many cosmetic items but she did have foundation and powder. Claire felt a pang of sadness coming into her parents’ room. She tried to put aside those feelings but tears were impossible to stop. She sniffed and wiped away the tears, not wanting to appear with eyes puffy from crying one more time. She’d definitely need Fran to help with this room. There was no way she could begin to throw anything from here away. That simply didn’t seem possible.

At six on the dot, she heard a knock at the front door. The man was punctual. She needed a wrap and grabbed a gauzy crème-colored wrap she’d used as a teenager. After a spritz of hairspray and a dab of perfume, she took one last look in the mirror and nervously made it to the door without tripping.

Claire swung open the door and smiled. “Please come in.” From his expression, she thought he liked what he saw. He held out a bouquet of flowers. “They’re gorgeous. I love sunflowers.”

“I remember you planted them every spring. They populated the field.”

“That’s right.” Dustin stood before her in a white dress shirt and dark trousers. He wore loafers without socks, quite a change from the man in grease-covered jeans and boots. His gaze went straight to hers, and something in his eyes seemed to glitter when their gazes met. She inhaled, then stopped breathing, drinking in the heat from his eyes.

He was clean-shaven and his square jaw appeared even more pronounced. The fire in his eyes flashed when she caught him looking down at her legs. Were the shoes overboard?

“You’re the most beautiful woman.” His voice was low. His body loomed over her and seemed to fill the small kitchen. Her stomach lurched and she fumbled with the vase. He steadied her by holding onto her elbow.

“I’m not used to high heels.” She wasn’t used to
him
.

As soon as she turned, the wall of his body blocked her. He feathered his fingers across her cheeks, took hold of her and kissed. Not hard and demanding but sure and possessive. He lightly caressed her jaw with his thumb. A growl of pleasure grew in his chest. He stepped back and inhaled, seeming to observe all parts of her at once.

She wanted to ask him why he wasn’t attached to some woman. He was an absolute hunk standing there with the late sunshine catching and framing his face. He smiled and the light reflected jade-green from his eyes outward. His dark hair was combed back. His ear was pierced, and he wore a small hoop. There was nothing ordinary about him.

If she didn’t say something, they’d kiss again and it wouldn’t take Anaïs Nin to foresee how it might end. “You said you were taking some time off. So you’ve done well in business?”

“I guess I’ve done alright. I’m in the process of negotiating some contracts, selling what I own.”

“Where do you call home?”

“Right now, here. I’ve lived a gypsy life, traveling mostly. Had an apartment in Palo Alto to be near my business office. Funny, isn’t it? We both left here and settled on the West Coast.”

She’d heard from her parents’ comments on how proud he’d made his family, but it wasn’t that simple. She didn’t understand his timeline, considering the fascinating tidbits she’d heard about his life. She was intrigued by the complexity of him. “But you came back and you’re not certain if you’ll stay?”

She wondered what made him want to live a life they’d all talked about escaping—the small town, living with people they’d known all their lives. It wasn’t a bad idea, actually, when she stood in the kitchen with him so near.

“I’m at the point where I’m trying to see the big picture and define the future on better decisions. It’s probably just human nature before we hit thirty. You know, reassess for the next phase.”

“Would you like a glass of wine? It’s the only thing left, unless you’d like some juice.”

“No, thanks. We have reservations at six-thirty. If you’re ready we can begin the city tour.”

She took her wrap and suddenly wondered how she’d keep her hair from blowing all over the place. His Jeep was open and she’d wished she’d braided her hair. They stepped out on the porch and she went slack-jawed at sight of his car. She looked over at him but he had slipped on a pair of sunglasses.

“Nice ride.” A shiny silver sports car sat in the driveway. Low, sleek, and masculine. All his toys were. Dustin said nothing, but his lips quirked boyishly.

“Come with me.” He encircled her wrist with his fingers. The sensation of his hand on her arm exuded a charged, raw power she was coming to understand was his. Automatically her body responded, her nipples beaded into tight points, and she became the silent one.

The car was convertible but the top was up. He held on to her as they descended the porch steps. Dustin opened her door and even brushed her dress from the door frame as she sat down. He reached over and took hold of the seatbelt. The medallion fell from his shirt collar and brushed her shoulder. The medal was warm as it trailed over her skin. She felt tiny bursts of pleasure. His face was inches from her, his breath caressed her neck and shoulders.

Claire crossed her arms over her chest trying to hide how easily he excited her. Goosebumps rose over her arms and she rubbed them away.

“There, all set?” His leaned in and kissed the side of her mouth. “I want you this very second. Make no mistake.”

She looked up into his face. Her heart thundered, and she pressed the balls of feet into the floorboard. She didn’t trust her voice and nodded.

Chapter Eight

Damn. Maybe they should just forget eating and go to his place. What would she think? All his thoughts about taking her out and romance and patience disintegrated. Claire was more than a vision. She smelled so good and was too beautiful for words. He wanted to crush her into his body and devour her lips.

He’d never seen such a lovely woman. With her hair done and wearing makeup, she pushed every one of his buttons. Twice.

She was stunning in a dress that called his attention to every line and curve of her body. He barely recovered from staring at the shoes she wore. Laces tied up and around her calves, unsettling him, until he was about to give in and lose his self-control. She was no longer some uncertain girl. Claire was a sexy woman who deserved to be spoiled and pampered.

He struggled to maintain his sanity and concentrated on driving, forcing himself to think of something besides her satin smooth skin. He was not about to engage in some half-assed, sex-crazed frenzy no matter what his John Tom demanded. He’d vowed to take it slow and he’d do whatever she needed. In the middle of dealing with her parents’ death, he wasn’t going to be some sleaze and take advantage of her.

He wanted to protect her. Hell, he wanted to possess her as well. Now that he had a chance to be with her again he couldn’t contemplate ever having to let her go. She’d captivate any man. He’d better be prepared to relax or, better yet, be on guard.

She was the only woman who, without even knowing her power, could wreak havoc on his plans, and he wasn’t about to lose her for being an impatient cad.

She was quiet as they drove. “Penny for your thoughts.”

“I was wondering why you came back. Dustin, what happened?”

“You honestly don’t know?”

“I’ve discovered, recently, that I’ve been out of touch with a lot going on in the world. Not the news stuff, more personal. Truthfully, I never asked a lot of questions when I talked with my parents. You know how it is. You answer their questions and try to ask about their interests but I didn’t feel compelled to know much more. They talked about you, but I didn’t ask for details. I think they wanted to tell me more, but I changed the subject.”

He hadn’t expected to hear her blunt statement. But really, what else did he deserve?

“I made some good investments. A project from grad school got picked up by several large cell phone companies. I own the patents and I’ve learned a lot about patent rights and leasing agreements.”

“Sounds seriously exciting.”

“Big money with little work. I’m not bragging. It’s just how things turned out.” He watched her expression going from surprised to relaxed.

“I’m glad you’ve done so well.”

He nodded. “I didn’t know what success would mean. I didn’t want to get stuck in an office. For all that I believed in wanting to be successful and all that entails, I didn’t understand the sacrifices that I’d be called to make involving ethics or my personal time. Those parts, you can’t envision until you live them. I refuse to be someone who turns fifty and looks back with regrets.”

“So, you’ve got options.”

“Luckily. Right now I’m in the middle, really almost finished, with the sale of the patents. Contracts should be here tomorrow and then I’m done. Well, almost. For a year I’ll still serve as consultant, but then I’m completely free. I’ll use the year to think about what to do with the next part of my life.” He looked over at her and was struck again by the instant smoldering attraction he felt for her.

He pulled in front of the Rainbow Grill and into the valet parking. Red awnings and a whitewashed building. Not too foreboding or austere. Romance with a trajectory back to his bedroom.