Shawna Delacorte – Wyoming Wife? (страница 7)

Samantha carried the book to the guest room and placed it on the night stand. She would read it later. Right now she had other things to do. In the kitchen— certainly not her favorite room and not where she displayed her greatest proficiency. She squared her shoulders, clenched her jaw and marched determinedly down the hall and through the living room. She repeated the words over and over in her mind, I can do this...I can do this.

She carefully measured out the proper amount of coffee from the canister, then added the water and turned on the coffeepot. Next she set out two cups and saucers. She found a sugar bowl, then poured some milk into a cream pitcher. She arranged everything on the table, along with napkins and a spoon next to his coffee cup. She didn’t know if he took cream or sugar in his coffee, but she wanted to make sure she was prepared for the eventuality. She stood back and surveyed the scene with a critical eye. She knew it was only coffee, but she wanted to make sure she had not forgotten anything.

“Samantha?” Jace’s voice came from the living room moments later.

She heard him call her name, and a fraction of a second later the butterflies began to flit around inside her stomach. She took a calming breath, then called out to him. “In the kitchen.”

“Did you find everything okay?” He walked directly to the cupboard and took out a mug without even glancing at the table she had so painstakingly prepared. He grabbed the pot and filled the mug. He took one sip of the coffee, held it in his mouth for a moment, then finally swallowed it. He stared into the mug and scrunched his face into a disagreeable frown before looking quizzically at Samantha. “What is this stuff?”

“It’s coffee.” She didn’t have a clue what had prompted his question and strange behavior. “What did you think it was?”

He dumped the contents of the mug, picked up the pot and poured the rest of the coffee down the drain.

She rushed to the sink, watched the coffee swirl down the drain, then stared up at him. Her bewilderment carried over into the tone of her voice. “What’s wrong? What do you think you’re doing?”

He threw away the used coffee grounds and started anew. “I’m making coffee. That stuff you made could more aptly be referred to as tea.”

“Wait just a minute...” She felt the anger flush across her cheeks. “There was nothing wrong with that coffee. That’s the way I always make it and I’ve never had any complaints before.”

“Well, maybe your friends are ultrapolite or maybe they’ve never had to warm up after being out in a blizzard. Either way, coffee has to be a lot stronger than this barely tinted hot water of yours.”

“Strong coffee is not good for the system. Studies show—”

He whirled around to face her. “Studies aren’t going to warm me up after being outdoors in a subzero windchill factor.”

She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice, but it crept in anyway. “This falls within the realm of my area of expertise. Studies of the coffee-drinking habits of office workers clearly show—”

His retort was immediate and emphatic. “Running a ranch does not have a parallel connection to working in an office. It’s like comparing horses and cattle. They may both be four-legged animals, but that doesn’t mean they’re interchangeable in their uses.”

Her anger flared. She glowered at him as she jumped on what she felt was his unwarranted criticism. “Your horses and cows don’t have a thing to do with—”

He moved so quickly that Samantha didn’t have time to react. One minute they were engaged in a disagreement that could have turned into a full-scale argument, and the next minute his mouth covered hers with a heated intensity unlike anything she had ever before experienced—a heated intensity that was at the same time strangely hesitant and unsure, a heated intensity that tasted of longing and loneliness as much as desire.

Her first reaction was to pull away from him, even though his attentions were far from being unwanted. It was all so sudden, so startling, so unplanned...and so very exciting. His warmth flowed through her, providing her with a taste of the passion that existed beneath the cool exterior of Jace Tremayne. She lifted her arms around his neck. Then she felt herself being pulled into his embrace.

There was a strength about him that came from the security of knowing who he was and being content with that knowledge. He was a man who knew what he wanted out of life and where he was going. It was the type of strength she had longed for, the type of strength that had eluded her in her drive to please her parents, the type of strength she had not found in the person of Jerry Kensington. It was an honesty she found very appealing... and incredibly sexy.

Three

It would be difficult to say which one broke off the kiss, Jace or Samantha. They seemed to each pull back at the same time. For a long moment they stood together, still entwined in an embrace. The howling wind faded into the background. An almost deafening silence filled the air, broken only by the sound of breathing. Each seemed to be lost in the depths of the other’s eyes, looking into the soul in search of...of what? Then reality intruded into the moment and the spell was broken.

Samantha stepped away, coming to an abrupt halt when she backed up against the edge of the kitchen sink. There was no question that the kiss had a very disconcerting effect on her. Her heart pounded. She fought against the shortness of breath that tried to take hold. All the while his silvery-eyed gaze held her as close as his arms had just moments earlier. She didn’t know what to say to him about what had just happened. He might have been the one to take her by surprise, but she was every bit as willing a participant as he had been.

She forced her gaze away, glancing out the window at the raging storm. Daylight had faded into gray remnants that would soon be night The next logical thing would be to fix dinner. That was what she needed to do. She needed to bring a logical order to these unquestionably illogical proceedings. That kiss never happened. It was the best way for her to handle the awkward situation.

“Well...” Her voice cracked as she tried to speak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “It’s almost dinnertime.”

“Yes, it’s almost dinnertime.” The huskiness surrounding his words belied his cool and calm exterior. “I have some paperwork to take care of, shouldn’t take me more than half an hour. When I’m done, I’ll see about getting some dinner on the table.”

She immediately jumped in, eager to change the tone of what had been happening. “Let me do it. I can fix dinner while you’re taking care of your business.”

“You don’t need to. Unless you’re starving and can’t wait, I’ll take care of it in a little while.”

“Really, I don’t mind. I’d like to contribute something.” She could feel herself getting in over her head. but she did not seem to be able to stop the words. “I don’t mind preparing dinner.”

“Well...if you’re sure you don’t mind.” He wanted to get out of the room and away from her. He needed to remove himself from her presence before he did something foolish again.

He turned toward the kitchen door. “I’ll be in my office if you need me...I mean, if you need anything.” He hurried out of the room without waiting for any response from her.

As much as Jace wanted to take her in his arms again, to taste the sweetness of that delectable mouth, he knew it was out of the question. He also knew that a quick retreat was the only thing that would prevent him from doing just that. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the memory of her body pressed against his to wash over him. When he woke that morning, all he’d had to look forward to was extra work preparing for a freak blizzard. It never occurred to him that a simple little thing like pulling a stranded motorist out of the snow could cause him all this inner turmoil, but it had.

He made a decision. The best way for him to handle things was to simply pretend the kiss never happened. He would take care of his paperwork, have dinner, then go to bed early and read for a while. The morning would be a new day, and with any luck the storm would have spent its fury. And when the storm moved on, so would Samantha. She would return to her world and her lifestyle, and he would get on with life. He sat at his desk, turned on the computer and pulled up the file he needed.

In the dining room, Samantha placed the water glasses on the table, then surveyed the setting with a critical eye. What she saw met with her satisfaction. Next she turned her attention to the meal itself. A shudder ran up her back, the sign of apprehension that always appeared whenever she attempted to do something she knew was totally out of her area of expertise. Why in the world had she volunteered to fix dinner of all things? It was stupid for her to have made such an irrational offer, but to have followed it up by insisting...well, it was too late now.

Returning to the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator and stared at the contents. She was not sure where to begin. A salad. She knew she could handle that without any trouble. She found a nice selection of ingredients—lettuce, tomatoes, mushrooms and bean sprouts. She had also seen some croutons in a cupboard earlier that day. She took a salad bowl from the shelf, then washed the vegetables.