Notorious. Vicki Lewis Thompson
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Noah. You’re a conservative guy, so when you talk about eight seconds being an eternity, I can’t help wondering if you think that’s plenty of time for—”
“Of course it’s not!” He was really red now.
She’d forgotten how adorable he could be when he was flustered. “Well, good. Glad to hear it. Because most women need a whole lot more than eight seconds to become thoroughly—”
“I’m aware of that! Now, could we please change the subject?”
“Sure. Be glad to.” She used to love teasing him like this. She loved it still. Probably too much, and she’d be wise to walk away from this whole setup. But then she’d never know if she could succeed in breaching his defenses. She had to know, no matter what it might cost her. And she was tough. She’d picked up the pieces before and could do it again. Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead.
“Thanks.” He sighed in apparent relief.
Little did he know there was no relief in sight. “Oh, there’s a drugstore,” she said. “Would you mind if we stopped in there before we get to the hotel? I need a few things, and I’m sure they’re more expensive in the hotel shops.”
“That’s fine.” He sounded grateful to be doing something as harmless as shopping. “I guess you would need a toothbrush and…other stuff.”
“A big bottle of lotion, for one thing. I’d forgotten how desert heat affects my skin. Back on the ranch I had to practically take a bath in lotion, remember?”
“Can’t say as I do.”
Liar. “Oh, sure you do. You even commented about it one evening when I was on the front porch of Dad’s house, slathering it all over my legs and arms. You said if I kept that up I’d slide right out of bed in the middle of the night.”
“Mmm.”
“My favorite is raspberry-scented, but they might not have that.” She peeked at him as they walked through the door into the air-conditioned store to see if any of what she’d said was registering. He looked more than a little agitated.
Two years ago she’d done an article on scent as an arousal factor. All the guys she’d interviewed rated scent very high, and most of them fondly remembered how former lovers had smelled like cinnamon, or lily of the valley, or in one instance, chocolate. She was counting on Noah having the same response, and she’d used raspberry-scented lotion ever since she’d turned fifteen. If she couldn’t find any in the drugstore, she’d smuggle over the bottle she had in her hotel room.
But raspberry lotion wasn’t her primary target in the drugstore. She could hardly wait for the moment when Noah discovered what she planned to stock up on.
NOAH HAD BEEN in tight spots in his life and he’d always managed to come out okay. He clung to that hope as he followed Keely around the store and tried not to think of the scent of raspberries.
That scent had drawn him to her dad’s porch on the night she’d mentioned. Dressed in cutoffs and a halter top, she’d stationed herself on the creaky old porch swing with a bottle of that damn lotion. To get near her, he’d made up some excuse about checking the area for snakes.
Keely wasn’t the type to run off screaming at the mention of a snake, so while he’d swung a flashlight beam around and pretended to scout for rattlers, she’d nearly driven him crazy smoothing that creamy, fragrant stuff over her bare legs. They hadn’t talked much, but he remembered crickets chirping and the rhythmic squeak of that swing, which could have passed for the sound of bedsprings. To this day he couldn’t smell or taste raspberries without hearing that steady creak and seeing her hand slowly massaging the tender skin of her inner thigh.
That might have been the first time she’d discovered the stuff, but after that she’d used it constantly, trailing the scent of raspberries wherever she went. He’d come to dread that aroma, because it never failed to give him an erection, no matter how inappropriate the moment. More than once she’d glanced at his crotch and smiled, as if thrilled with her new power.
Then, a few weeks after she’d turned sixteen, she’d waylaid him in the barn. And she’d smelled exactly like a bowl of fresh raspberries. She’d tasted like that, too—juicy and moist, bursting with ripe sweetness.
He often wondered if she’d been a virgin then. If so, he’d bet she hadn’t stayed one long after he’d turned her down. He’d probably given up the chance to be her first lover that night. Saying no hadn’t been easy, considering she didn’t look or act like any sixteen-year-old he’d known before or since.
But somehow in the midst of that hot, wet kiss, he’d remembered she was sixteen, and all the lust in the world wouldn’t change that. He’d left the barn in a hurry, followed by the angry insults she’d hurled after him. At the time he’d thought she was furious. Now he wondered if she’d been more hurt than angry. He hadn’t been particularly sensitive about ending the embrace.
Sensitivity hadn’t been on his mind. Self-preservation had been all he could think about. God, how he’d wanted her. But giving in would have meant angering and disappointing two men he cared about—his father and hers.
Shortly after that he’d gone out on the rodeo circuit, figuring escape was the only answer. During his brief trips home over the next three years he’d noticed that Keely had gone overboard to become the sex symbol of Saguaro Junction. But innocent or wild, she turned him on like no one else. How ironic that he hadn’t wanted to be her first lover, but later on he hadn’t wanted to be the next one in line, either. With great difficulty he’d kept himself in check.
He was much older now and should have better control. But as he watched her scan the shelves looking for her raspberry lotion, he wondered if he’d changed at all where Keely was concerned.
All of a sudden she pounced on a bottle. “Look! Here it is!”
“Looks like it.” He groaned to himself. Wouldn’t you know.
“Okay, now a toothbrush.” She moved quickly to that aisle and grabbed a red one. “What kind of toothpaste do you use?”
He told her.
“That’ll be fine. We can share, if that’s all right with you.”
“Uh, sure.” He was aware of another customer, a matronly woman, giving them both the once-over.
“Great. The hotel shampoo will do for a couple of days, but I’ll have to buy deodorant. I don’t want some bracing, manly smell on my body.”
His mind spun wildly as he followed her to the antiperspirants. What in God’s name had he been thinking, proposing this scheme? How was he supposed to keep a level head while they shared the same shower, the same sink, and squeezed from the same toothpaste tube?
Dark red hair bouncing around her shoulders, she stalked through the rest of the store as if looking for something.
And like an idiot, he had to ask. “Is there something else you need?”
“Condoms.”
He choked. “Why?”
“I’m surprised you would say that. Really, Noah, I’m beginning to wonder what kind of sex life you have. Ah, there they are, the little devils. Here, hold my stuff for a minute so I can look these puppies over.” She shoved her lotion, deodorant and toothbrush into his hands.
Panic swelled within him. “Look, you don’t need those things. I’m telling you, we are not—”
“Oh, these aren’t for you.”
“They’re not?” The conversation had gone from bad to worse.
She studied the packages hanging on the display rack. “Not unless you change your mind.”
“I won’t, so let’s just go, okay?” He glared at a teenage kid who was lingering nearby, obviously enjoying the show. The kid grinned and left. Noah lowered