Wyoming Wife?. Shawna Delacorte
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conversation with Samantha. Her apparent concerns were groundless. Of course she was safe in the house alone with him. But that didn’t mean that a delicious fantasy had not crossed his mind. He hadn’t dated since his wife’s death, nor had he wanted to. He’d finally settled comfortably into a moderately content day-to-day existence. It was not exciting, but then he hadn’t met anyone who excited him...not until now.
As improbable as it seemed, Samantha was definitely that someone. By her own admission she had never been on a ranch and knew nothing of rural life. Her world was silk suits and the big city. So what was there about her that he found so irresistible? Why did he want to take her into his arms and make love to her until they were both too exhausted to move?
It was no good. He needed to elevate his thoughts higher than his belt buckle and move the conversation to safer ground. “I suppose the next order of business is to give you a tour of the house.” Jace waved his arm to encompass all the surrounding area. “This, as you’ve seen, is the living room.” He took her through the dining room, kitchen, den, and finally gestured down the hallway toward the bedrooms. They returned to the living room.
“It’s a very comfortable house. You can tell it’s had many years of love and care,” Samantha said, her sadness working its way to the surface.
She had never lived in a loving home. She had worked hard her entire life in an attempt to make her parents proud of her. No matter how hard she tried, or how much she accomplished, she was never able to elicit even one word of praise from them. She had thought a good marriage might please them. Jerry Kensington had all the credentials they could have wanted—a good family background, a Harvard education, and a successful law practice.
The thought slapped her across the face, startling her with the clarity of the realization. Had that been the only reason she had become engaged to Jerry? Yet another attempt to garner some spark of approval from her parents? Was it possible that she’d never really loved him at all? And then the ultimate question—had she nearly ruined her life by entering a loveless marriage simply to please her parents? It was a very disturbing thought and only went to reinforce her earlier determination—marriage might be all right for other people, but it was not for her. A serious relationship would only get in the way of her career.
She returned her attention to Jace, who glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Make yourself at home. I would imagine you’re probably hungry. Help yourself to whatever you’d like in the kitchen.” He reached for his gloves and heavy jacket. “There’s television and plenty of reading material in the den. I’ve still got a few more hatches to batten down before the day is over.” Before she could reply, he disappeared through the front door.
Hungry. Yes, she certainly was that. It was past three o’clock in the afternoon, and she hadn’t eaten anything since toast, juice and coffee that morning. She also needed to do something about clothes. Her thoughts, and the realization of her physical attraction toward Jace, had made her doubly aware of the fact that she had nothing on beneath the robe he had given her to wear. Her silk suit was already ruined, so tossing it in a clothes dryer with her panties and bra couldn’t possibly do it any more harm.
She located the utility room, put her clothes in the dryer, then wandered back to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator door and stared at the contents. Everything seemed to need some sort of preparation, unlike her own kitchen where things only required minimal heating if even that. She went to the freezer. Perhaps she’d find a frozen entreé of some kind that she could pop into the microwave. Again, nothing of the sort. Then she noticed there was no microwave.
She gave the kitchen a closer inspection. A six-burner stove, large double ovens, bins of flour and sugar, cupboards of staples, shelves of home-canned fruits and vegetables. There was nothing that suited her extremely limited culinary talents. Since her chances of being able to get a pizza delivered to a ranch house in the middle of a snowstorm were decidedly slim, she settled on making a piece of toast and pouring a glass of milk.
As soon as the dryer shut off, she quickly changed back into her clothes. She had been correct: her pants and blouse were ruined, but at least they gave her something to wear. She paused outside the door as she left the guest room, taking a moment to glance down the hallway. Her curiosity overruled her sense of propriety.
She peeked in the other rooms—an office, two other bedrooms and one more bathroom, in addition to the guest room she was using. None of the rooms revealed any hint of a wife or children.
The room at the end of the hall was a master bedroom with fireplace and private bath. The unmade bed, coupled with the pair of jeans and denim shirt draped across the arm of a chair told her the room belonged to Jace. She glanced back toward the front door, then entered his bedroom.
The room itself seemed very comfortable, though it was sparsely decorated with large areas where things should have been but were not, as if they had been removed without being replaced. She hesitantly reached out and touched the bed, then ran her hand across the indentation in one of the pillows. A hot jolt of pure lust shot up her arm. She quickly turned and left the room.
She went to the den in search of a good book to pass the time...and take her mind off the sensual feel of Jace’s bed and the desires it stirred. She paused at a window. The storm had cut off most of the daylight, giving the scene a bleak appearance. Snow blanketed everything and continued to fall without sign of letup. The strong wind plastered it against the side of the house and whipped it into large drifts across the yard. She shivered as she watched the intensity increase with each passing minute.
Two men leaned into the wind as they made their way across the yard, their image obscured by the blowing snow. One of them turned toward the barn and the other turned toward the house. A moment later she heard someone enter through the front door. She returned her attention to the bookshelves lining the walls.
Jace stomped the snow from his boots and hung his hat and jacket on the rack by the door. He headed straight to the fireplace, grabbed a couple more logs and added them to the fire. Everything possible had been done to prepare for the duration of what looked to be a full-scale blizzard. Now it was a matter of attending to the necessary daily ranch chores and hoping the storm didn’t do damage to any of the buildings.
He checked the kitchen and dining room, but did not see Samantha. He rubbed his hands in front of the fire until the chill was gone, then went looking for her. He spotted her in the den. He leaned against the doorjamb and watched her for a moment. She stood on her toes with her arm stretched above her head in an attempt to reach something. His gaze lingered on the fabric of her slacks and the way it caressed the roundness of her bottom.
He took a couple of steps into the room, then paused. He allowed his gaze to travel up to the soft silk that clung to the curve of her breast. The wrinkled and disheveled condition of her clothes could not hide the enticing sight that made his blood course a little faster. He closed his eyes for a moment. He knew he could not continue to stare at her as if she were a hot meal and he hadn’t eaten in four years—regardless of how much his gaze wanted to linger.
He crossed the den and stood behind her. “Let me help you.”
“Oh!” She glanced over her shoulder and lowered her arm. “You startled me. I didn’t hear you come into the room.”
“What is it you’re trying to reach?”
She turned back toward the books and extended her arm, pointing to the object of her interest. “I was trying to get that book.” A tremor of delight suffused her body when she felt him brush against her back and shoulder.
He reached past her and grabbed the tome from the shelf. He felt her warmth, an almost seductive heat that grabbed hold of him and refused to let go. He took a steadying breath as he tried to regain control. He had difficulty getting out the words. “Is there anything else you wanted?”
“No...nothing else.” She turned to face him and found herself so close that their bodies almost touched. His silver eyes captured her just as surely as if he had wrapped her in his embrace. She felt the very real pull of his magnetic sexuality. It nearly took her breath away. No one had ever made her feel that way before, certainly not her ex-fiancé.