Oscar was happy to be home, and Kiersten was happy to be alone. All the doting company lately had just about suffocated her. She was used to her own space, and had lots to think about.
A nice hot bath sounded like just the ticket. Too bad she couldn’t have a little wine with it.
Now there was a subject she could ponder for an evening all by itself: pregnancy.
Her hand played in the running water as she remembered trying to conceive for several months before Luke’s death. Well, she had been. It wasn’t until his autopsy report came back that she found out he’d had a vasectomy. So rang the warning bell, the death knell heads-up that her marriage wasn’t at all what she’d thought.
God. And that trip she and Nate had taken to Vernal, Utah, to find the woman who claimed to be Luke’s wife. Three small children were all the evidence she needed to confirm Luke's only legal marriage was to the Utah woman, though Nate did more research when they got back home. The kids all looked like Luke, and there were pictures of him as a child hanging on their walls. He’d claimed he was raised in foster care, but there hung photographic evidence of both a brother and a sister. And parents.
The most awful part of that day had been the nonchalant attitude of the other woman, who’d known Luke was sleeping with her, but didn’t mind, because of the money. The con had been nearly up; in another six months Luke would have milked her for all he could get. Then he’d have left her, disappearing from existence.
She turned off the bath water and slid in, letting herself relax. If she was pregnant, and it was still an if, life would get complicated. Cleve would become a fixture in her life. He’d probably be a good dad...maybe he didn’t lack principles the way his father did.
After all, she didn’t have her mother’s values, or lack thereof. At least she hoped not. Her own mother had split about the time baby Kiersten figured out how to walk, leaving her in the care of her daddy and grandparents. Then when she was five, an eighteen-wheeler got the best of Dad and his motorcycle in a head-on collision.
Which left her with Grandma and Grandpa, who did the very best they could for her. She couldn’t complain about her upbringing.
Her hands settled on her softly rounded tummy. It’d been the bane of her existence all through her twenties, when the thing she coveted most was a set of six-pack abs. Probably would be best if she wasn’t pregnant. And yet...well, the idea of it stirred feelings she’d given up two years ago.
The next week would drag on for eternity, waiting to find out, to know for sure whether she was pregnant with the grandchild of her sworn enemy. Visions of a miniature Cleve toddling around Rocky Peak filled her mind as she drifted toward sleep.
“People have drowned, sleeping in the bath.”
She awoke to Cleve sitting on the edge of her bathtub, freely looking at her body in the now tepid and bubble-free water.
“Cle-, I mean Howell, get the hell out of here. Ever hear of the word privacy? God!”
He only laughed and remained seated. “I knocked and yelled. Got worried about you, so I came in to check you were okay. You sure look good in there, Rocky. Spectacular peaks.”
She splashed a handful of water over him, then sat up and crossed her arms over her breasts. “I insist that you get out now! I need to get dressed, and you have no business looking at me like that.”
Ignoring the fit she was throwing, and brushing the water off himself, he narrowed his eyes. “Speaking of business, what business is it of Nate’s that we forgot to use a condom when we made love?”
How could he call himself a gentleman, when he refused to leave and allow her to dress in private? “We didn’t make love, Howell. We screwed. We had wild, crazy sex. Great it was, but only sex. No love. Thus, now there is no love lost between us.”
“I don’t like you telling him things about us.” He must mean business. He’d pronounced the ‘g’ at the end of ‘telling’.
“Good. There is no ‘us’, so I won’t have anything to tell my closest friend about.”
Since he still hadn’t left, she wrenched the plug from the drain and stood, giving him the unobstructed view of what he’d been unable to tear his eyes from.
* * * *
Rocky jerked on a huge, thick robe, cutting short his sight-seeing. The damn thing covered all but her face and toes. Streaks of red played with gold and brown as she loosened the knot she’d tied her hair in, and flipped it over to brush the underside. What color did she call her hair? The nape of her neck...so soft. He should seduce her, make her admit she was his.
What was it about this woman? Did he want her because she was so new to him, so different? Or because she always seemed out of reach? Since the day they’d made love, his body’d ached for her. The ache would hit him at random times, like when he’d spoken to his sister on the phone yesterday at the courthouse. Or when he punched in his PIN—his birthday, and for how many more would he remain a bachelor?—at the ATM. Or eating his lunch alone in the Pink Elephant while he knew she was laughing and touching Nate’s hand or shoulder in her own kitchen.
And now, of course. Damned if seeing her buck-ass naked hadn’t sent him peering over the safety rail, wondering if he could navigate the slippery slope. He’d told himself today that he wouldn’t pursue her anymore. Maybe a good week of ignoring her would bring her around. That idea seemed mighty lame now. The best way to win a woman was to flatter her, treat her kindly. Oh, to hell with that. He’d rather seduce her the old-fashioned way, take her to the floor in the bathroom, pull open that robe, pleasure her with his mouth...
“Yo, Texan! If you’re gonna fall asleep, do it at your own house. I don’t need to a babysitter tonight.”
He snapped back to attention. What were they talking about? Nate.
“Yeah, um. Nate’s not sleepin over again, is he?”
* * * *
Kiersten shrugged. Why did Howell have to show up at her house to daydream? Why couldn’t he do that in his ugly house and leave her the hell alone? Maybe she could run him off if he thought she was interested in Nate. Nah, it would probably make him more competitive and spur him to try harder.
“Who knows? I sure don’t. Any number of guys seem to be in and out of my house, driving off in my truck, interrupting my bath, burning my clothes. I’ve got no say in my life at all these days. Guess I might as well sit back and let you macho jerks run my whole life. Is it all right if I get dressed now?” She left him alone in her damp bathroom.
Covered from neck to ankle in a lavender velour jogging suit, she flopped across her armchair and glared at Cleve’s hand holding her remote control.
“Haven’t got satellite hooked up to the Elephant yet, huh?”
Cleve turned away from the Weather Channel long enough to wrinkle his nose at her and shake his head.
Rolling her eyes at the inconvenience of his presence, she huffed over to check her email. Nate had sent her a link to the newspaper coverage of her testimony against Trayce. Though she sounded like quite a victim in Luke’s con, her conduct was reportedly questionable when she hadn’t reported Trayce for poaching on her property. The overall tone of the article left her looking stupid.
“Hey, you got internet!” Cleve said from behind her chair. “Could I check my email? My sister sent pictures of her kids.”
“The images’ll probably take forever to load, but knock yourself out.” She left him at her computer. Hey. Why the hell was she even being civil to him, much less letting him use her internet?
“Look at this! Dalton’s Little League team.”
She should ignore him, instead of standing behind the proud uncle while he pointed out his nephew among the crowd of five- and six-year olds. He even knew the names of the other boys on the team. The next picture was Cleve’s niece in her ballet tutu, standing on pudgy toes.
She couldn’t resist smiling at his pride. His sister had scanned a picture Dalton drew of himself and his uncle Cleve on horses, with tall snowy mountains behind.
“He wants to come visit me.” He beamed. “And climb the big mountains.”
“He must miss you.”
She’d sure like to get her fingers in his hair and smooth out that hat-hair ring. Restrain yourself! “Did you go to his games?”
“Every one. Helped coach, too.”
“Why’d you come out here all alone when you have such a big family back in Texas?” What would it be like to have a big family like that?
Cleve swiveled the desk chair to face her, and without blinking replied, “I wanted to run my ranch my way, not Pop’s. He still treats me like a kid because I’m youngest.” A tendon stood out on the side of his neck.
“How old are you, anyway?”
His gaze shifted. “Thirty next month.”
“Thirty. Ever been married?”
He shook his head. “I spent eight years as a Ranger, kinda goin anywhere I was needed. Met a lot of women, but they weren’t marriage material, and I wasn’t lookin. Guess you could say I acted like the kid Pop thought I was. Didn’t have any reason to do otherwise. I made enough money to buy my gas and clothes and plenty of tequila shots, and Pop kept me in cars. No need to settle down.”
“Mmm-hmm. Still feel that way?” Somehow, he hadn’t struck her as a playboy.
Dark eyes went to her hand resting on her abdomen. “Truthfully? My partner fell in love and got married, and it hit me like a load of bricks. I’m gettin old, and I want a family. I want my own house and my own cattle, and a woman I know hasn’t been with another man in the last twenty-four hours. Pop was so happy I finally wanted to be a rancher, he agreed to sign over this ranch to me before I changed my mind.” He chuckled. “I think this one’s kinda been a sore spot for Pop anyway. He hit a little road block he hasn’t been able to get through.”
“And what are you gonna do about that road block, Howell?” Though she’d intended it to be a demand, her voice and eyes were soft on him.
“I figure I can work around it. Right now I’d sure like to be on top of it.”
“Pig.” She smiled, even though she kept telling herself to back away. Step away from the enemy. His hand snaked around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. “Quit,” she said halfheartedly when his lips moved along her collarbone. “I hate your family.” His hand unzipped her jacket and cupped her breast.
“I know.”
“Your dad’s a...” A moan interrupted her complaint. “...jerk.” God, his hand felt so right.
“Yeah.” Cleve picked her up and carried her to the bed, where she drew his face to hers for a kiss.
“You’ll never take my ranch.”
“Okay.” He peeled his clothes off, and she traced the curves of lean muscle along his shoulders, sat up and nibbled those muscles as he helped her strip.
“Hurry.”
“Mmm.” His lips traced along her inner thigh, his fingers doing their magic.
She reached in the drawer by the bed and pulled out the string of condoms, tearing one away from the rest.
“Here. Ohhhh.” His fingers had just reached that spot. “Please hurry.”
While he worked the condom on, Cleve said, “Guess if we find out you’re expectin we won’t need these anymore.”
Anymore? Did he think this was going to keep happening? “There won’t be any more times after this. This is it, Howell. The last time.”
“Sure, Rocky. Okay.”
Didn’t he believe her? Oh, it didn’t matter now. He was in, and she was in another galaxy.
She was nearly asleep when he came back from the bathroom. His fingers brushed the hair from her face, then he kissed her and said softly, “Night, Rocky.”
“Told you to quit callin me Rocky.”
“But we’re lovers again, so I can.”
“Not love. Sex. We’re...screwers.” She knew another word that would make him cringe. Maybe she’d say it just to irritate him. “We’re fu—”
“Don’t!” His finger shushed her mouth, a line bisecting the grin she couldn’t contain. “If I decide to love you, Rocky, you can’t stop me.”
The hell she couldn’t! She rolled to face him. “You need to go home. You can’t sleep here.” No sleeping in the same bed. What else to keep that ‘L’ word at bay? “And don’t kiss me on the mouth anymore.”
“You can’t make all the rules.”
“Yes I can.”
“I’m not gonna follow ’em.”
His breaths were slowing. She should wake him and send him away, but he felt so nice and warm against her, she turned her back to him and let his arm hold her tight.
One night couldn’t hurt.