edge. “Sorry to have surprised you.” The man’s head

tipped toward

me. “Emily, right?” he asked, as he exhaled a puff of smoke.

I squinted at him, trying to place him, but I couldn’t. In

fact, I was certain I hadn’t seen him before. He had to be one

of the ranch guests, which didn’t explain how he knew me.

“That’s right,” I said tentatively. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

He tilted his head as he took another slow draw from his

ciga- rette. “Nope. We haven’t.” Even in the dark, I didn’t

miss the hun- gry way his eyes groped my frame.

He took a step toward me, and I readied myself to run. Just

then, the front door slammed open. I looked up to the porch

to see a couple of Reeve’s men leaving the house. W hen I

turned back, the man wasn’t there anymore. I glanced around

and caught sight of him circling around behind the building.

A man didn’t run off that easily if he hadn’t had ill intent.

I shivered. I wondered if all of the guests were that

creepy. No wonder Reeve was wary of them. Suddenly, I

wanted to run and tell him about the encounter.

Then, at the top of the stairs, I noticed his door was shut,

which meant he was in there. But what if he wasn’t alone?

What if the con- versation with Amber at dinner had led them

to his bedroom?

Before I let myself get worked up, I looked to Amber’s

door. It was shut too. It was the first time I’d seen it closed

since her arrival, and my mind jumped to a hundred different

possible conclusions. Maybe she was exercising her new

babysitter-free status. Maybe she was puking again in the

bathroom and wanted privacy. Or she was making out with

one of the ranchers. Or crying over whatever Reeve had said

to her after I’d left them.

Or she wasn’t in there at all.

I could easily knock on her door to find out, but I wasn’t

sure I

l a s t k i s s 93

could face her if she answered, and I was absolutely sure I

couldn’t take it if she didn’t.

Hoping I would be better equipped to handle the situation

after a good night’s sleep, I retreated to my own room with a

sigh of res- ignation.

Though it was late enough to go to bed, my emotions were

too frazzled for sleep. And I was cold. My evening walk had

set a chill in my bones that lingered even in the warm house.

W hile I wished it was Reeve warming me up, a hot shower

would be just as effec- tive at raising my body temperature and

would also calm my nerves.

I stripped, tossing my clothes onto the chair in the corner

of my room, then went to start the shower. I turned the water on

without getting in, sticking my hand under the stream until

it was hot enough. Then I crossed to the linen closet at the

other end of the bathroom and picked out a couple of towels.

When I shut the door, I turned back toward the shower and

nearly jumped out of my skin. “Reeve!” I patted my

in my chest. “Goddammit, you scared the hell out of me.”

Between his sneaky arrival and the lurking cowboy outside,

I wouldn’t have been surprised if I was on my way to a heart

attack.

His lip curled up with amusement.

I scowled. “I’m glad you think sending me to an early

grave is funny.” But I wasn’t really irritated by his arrival in

the least. I was glad, and I was certain the accelerated tempo

of my heart rate had as much to do with his appearance at all

as it did with the element of surprise.

He leaned his hip against the vanity and folded his arms

across his chest, a position that highlighted both his broad

shoulders and toned biceps. “You like it when I keep you

guessing,” he said dis- missively, not an entirely inaccurate

statement, though it was a bit discomforting that he knew it so

breastbone, trying to calm the thudding

well.

“And I like you on your toes,” he added, his eyes dark as

they slid the length of my body. I felt them like silk as they

caressed over

9 4 l a u r e l i n p a i g e

the slopes of my breasts, down the plane of my stomach,

zeroing in on the landing strip above my pussy. Suddenly I’d

warmed up quite sufficiently, the pool of moisture between

my thighs as hot as the steam gathering in the room.

I met his scrutiny with ogling of my own, biting my lip

as my eyes landed on the large bulge at the front of his pants.

He was bare- foot, and I tried not to wonder if that meant

he’d been undressed once already in the evening. Tried not to

wonder if it was his first or second erection of the night.

Bringing the towels in front of me as a much-needed

barrier, I

mirrored his crossed arms. “W hat are you doing here,

anyway?” He shrugged. “You wouldn’t come to my bed so

I had to come

yours.”

It was surprising how easily happiness bubbled in my

chest. Teasingly, I threw his words from the night before

back at him. “This isn’t my bed.”

He was already walking toward me. “It’s close enough.”

The towels fell to the floor as he seized my hips and turned

my back to the counter. His mouth captured mine, greedily

stealing my breath and sense of reason with his lips and

tongue.

God, I was hungry for him. I roved my hands over his

chest, wanting to touch all of his body at once, delighting at

the hard muscles that met the underside of my palms. He was

solid every- where. A wall of strength and potency that could

so easily over- power me. I was weak in his presence,

incapable of anything except to yield.

A warning bell sounded in the back of my head, though,

urging me to get my wits together and address . . . something.

It was dif- ficult to remember what exactly when his hands

were on my breasts, squeezing and pinching. The bite of pain

sent jolts of electricity through my nervous system, signals

that my brain read as pleasure. Pleasure I couldn’t resist.