[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
thought we had something good going here. Really great for the time it lasts.
She wet her lips. I just& I think we need to take a step back. Take a breath. I feel as
if I m on a runaway train and the only way to stop it is to crash. Please understand, she
begged. This is all so new to me. So different. I just can t&
Can t what, Grace? Allow yourself to be human? To explore your sexuality? Or are
you afraid you might enjoy things with me you never did with your husband and you d
be somehow disloyal? Is that it? Are you afraid to join the land of the living?
Tears burned the back of her eyelids. I don t know, Ben. I just know I need some
space. Please.
He stood there, his fiery gaze raking her from head to toe and back. At last he took
a step back.
Fine. You can have all the space you want, Grace. But when you make up your
mind, you ll have to come to me. And take a chance that I ll still be waiting.
He yanked the front door open then slammed it behind himself. Grace listened for
the sound of his car pulling away before she allowed the tears to flow. Putting her head
in her hands, she sobbed harder than she had since the day of Joe s funeral. She was just
glad there was no one there to see it.
58
Rodeo Heat
* * * * *
Ben floored the accelerator until he was out of sight of Grace s house, then turned a
corner and pulled over to the curb, putting the gear shift in Park. The last thing he
needed was a speeding ticket. For the first time since he d gotten Grace s voice mail
message he allowed himself to take a deep breath and ease the tension in his body.
He still didn t know why the hell he was so angry. Grace Delaney was just another
woman, right? They d had some outstanding sex but there were certainly a ton of other
women out there who would eagerly share his bed. And his brand of sex.
Except he didn t want any of them. He wanted Grace.
And that bugged the shit out of him.
He was going against all his rules. All the dos and don ts he d set up years ago, to
protect himself from choking entanglements. Everything that allowed him to control his
life. Specific rodeos. Specific bulls he wanted to ride. Number of points he wanted to
win each year. And mindless sex, so nothing endangered his plans for the distant
future. He might look like a rodeo bum to Grace Delaney but he had plans and no one
was going to interrupt them. Two or three more years at the most and he d achieve his
goal.
Because Ben Lowell had a secret. He rode the bulls for far more than the thrill of it.
Entered the roping competitions for far more than showing off his skill. In all these
years on the circuit he d been stashing his winnings away. Hotshot always went first
class, no scrimping there. And Ben always stayed in good hotels, his one concession to
his beat-up body. But everything else went to help him reach his secret goal buying a
ranch.
Just as he d told Grace, he wasn t stupid enough to think he could do this forever.
At thirty-two he was already feeling his age and then some. He d done some research,
found someone he trusted and opened an investment account. Every time he got a
check, a big chunk of it went to that pot of money, which, if his statements could be
believed, was growing at a rapid rate.
He d sworn to himself he d never let some woman come along and get her hooks
into it. When he left the circuit and settled down he d take his time, choose just the right
person. Someone who d love the ranch life as much as he did and could see beyond his
public image.
But Grace Delaney wasn t some woman . She lit his fire in places he didn t know
could be heated. In his dreams she tantalized and tormented him, her soft lips
whispering to him as their bodies moved in an erotic dance. When he competed each
night he found himself having to work hard to blot her out of his mind and concentrate
on the competition.
All for a woman who was too fastidious to take him into her own bed in her own
home. Make love with him in her own house. Fuck him in her own home, because that s
what he wanted to do to her. His hotel room was fine but she had a big invisible fence
around her life.
59
Desiree Holt
Well, that was what he d wanted, right? No strings? Just sex?
What an ass he d made of himself tonight, barging into her house that way.
Demanding to know who she d been with and what she d been doing. Acting as if he
owned her, for chrissake. Probably frightening the life out of her.
Good going, Ben. Way to seduce a woman.
So what? he answered himself. She was just some woman and he needed to get
that straight in his mind. In frustration he banged his fist on the steering wheel. The hell
with her. What did he expect anyway? Maybe that blonde who kept giving him the eye
was still hanging around the hotel bar.
Taking the on ramp to the interstate, he gave the truck a little extra gas as he headed
downtown.
* * * * *
Grace was exhausted by her tears, stunned by her reaction to what had just
happened. She could still hear Ben s angry words vibrating in the air, see the rage
mixed with hurt in his eyes.
You stupid old woman. What have you done?
Given in to her fears, that s what she d done. Fallen right back into rigid Grace
Delaney mode. Safe mode. Practically insulted a man who d made her feel even more
like a woman than Joe Delaney ever had.
And that was the problem.
She made herself move, picking up her purse she d dropped on a chair, climbing
the stairs to her bedroom on leaden feet. She flicked the switch that turned on the
bedside lamp and stood in the doorway, studying the room.
Pristine, Ben had called it. Without ever even seeing it he was so right.
Thick white carpeting. Oyster white walls, unrelieved except for one pastel
waterscape. Furniture such a pale shade of blue it almost looked white. She d bought it
when she found she could no longer sleep alone in the bed she and Joe had shared
before his death. In the bed where they d conceived two children in quick succession,
children who never got to know their father, thanks to a drunk driver. A framed photo
of those children Bridget and Ryan sat on the top of a dresser whose only other
adornment was a gold-rimmed tray that held a brush and comb set at precise angles.
Even her wedding picture had been put away long ago, as she shut every vestige of
emotion out of her life.
She d done the same with everything else. Clung to the apartment as long as she
could, then moved as soon as she could force herself to. First to the townhouse, then to
this home. Investigated day care more intensively than the Secret Service. Kept a [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl exclamation.htw.pl
thought we had something good going here. Really great for the time it lasts.
She wet her lips. I just& I think we need to take a step back. Take a breath. I feel as
if I m on a runaway train and the only way to stop it is to crash. Please understand, she
begged. This is all so new to me. So different. I just can t&
Can t what, Grace? Allow yourself to be human? To explore your sexuality? Or are
you afraid you might enjoy things with me you never did with your husband and you d
be somehow disloyal? Is that it? Are you afraid to join the land of the living?
Tears burned the back of her eyelids. I don t know, Ben. I just know I need some
space. Please.
He stood there, his fiery gaze raking her from head to toe and back. At last he took
a step back.
Fine. You can have all the space you want, Grace. But when you make up your
mind, you ll have to come to me. And take a chance that I ll still be waiting.
He yanked the front door open then slammed it behind himself. Grace listened for
the sound of his car pulling away before she allowed the tears to flow. Putting her head
in her hands, she sobbed harder than she had since the day of Joe s funeral. She was just
glad there was no one there to see it.
58
Rodeo Heat
* * * * *
Ben floored the accelerator until he was out of sight of Grace s house, then turned a
corner and pulled over to the curb, putting the gear shift in Park. The last thing he
needed was a speeding ticket. For the first time since he d gotten Grace s voice mail
message he allowed himself to take a deep breath and ease the tension in his body.
He still didn t know why the hell he was so angry. Grace Delaney was just another
woman, right? They d had some outstanding sex but there were certainly a ton of other
women out there who would eagerly share his bed. And his brand of sex.
Except he didn t want any of them. He wanted Grace.
And that bugged the shit out of him.
He was going against all his rules. All the dos and don ts he d set up years ago, to
protect himself from choking entanglements. Everything that allowed him to control his
life. Specific rodeos. Specific bulls he wanted to ride. Number of points he wanted to
win each year. And mindless sex, so nothing endangered his plans for the distant
future. He might look like a rodeo bum to Grace Delaney but he had plans and no one
was going to interrupt them. Two or three more years at the most and he d achieve his
goal.
Because Ben Lowell had a secret. He rode the bulls for far more than the thrill of it.
Entered the roping competitions for far more than showing off his skill. In all these
years on the circuit he d been stashing his winnings away. Hotshot always went first
class, no scrimping there. And Ben always stayed in good hotels, his one concession to
his beat-up body. But everything else went to help him reach his secret goal buying a
ranch.
Just as he d told Grace, he wasn t stupid enough to think he could do this forever.
At thirty-two he was already feeling his age and then some. He d done some research,
found someone he trusted and opened an investment account. Every time he got a
check, a big chunk of it went to that pot of money, which, if his statements could be
believed, was growing at a rapid rate.
He d sworn to himself he d never let some woman come along and get her hooks
into it. When he left the circuit and settled down he d take his time, choose just the right
person. Someone who d love the ranch life as much as he did and could see beyond his
public image.
But Grace Delaney wasn t some woman . She lit his fire in places he didn t know
could be heated. In his dreams she tantalized and tormented him, her soft lips
whispering to him as their bodies moved in an erotic dance. When he competed each
night he found himself having to work hard to blot her out of his mind and concentrate
on the competition.
All for a woman who was too fastidious to take him into her own bed in her own
home. Make love with him in her own house. Fuck him in her own home, because that s
what he wanted to do to her. His hotel room was fine but she had a big invisible fence
around her life.
59
Desiree Holt
Well, that was what he d wanted, right? No strings? Just sex?
What an ass he d made of himself tonight, barging into her house that way.
Demanding to know who she d been with and what she d been doing. Acting as if he
owned her, for chrissake. Probably frightening the life out of her.
Good going, Ben. Way to seduce a woman.
So what? he answered himself. She was just some woman and he needed to get
that straight in his mind. In frustration he banged his fist on the steering wheel. The hell
with her. What did he expect anyway? Maybe that blonde who kept giving him the eye
was still hanging around the hotel bar.
Taking the on ramp to the interstate, he gave the truck a little extra gas as he headed
downtown.
* * * * *
Grace was exhausted by her tears, stunned by her reaction to what had just
happened. She could still hear Ben s angry words vibrating in the air, see the rage
mixed with hurt in his eyes.
You stupid old woman. What have you done?
Given in to her fears, that s what she d done. Fallen right back into rigid Grace
Delaney mode. Safe mode. Practically insulted a man who d made her feel even more
like a woman than Joe Delaney ever had.
And that was the problem.
She made herself move, picking up her purse she d dropped on a chair, climbing
the stairs to her bedroom on leaden feet. She flicked the switch that turned on the
bedside lamp and stood in the doorway, studying the room.
Pristine, Ben had called it. Without ever even seeing it he was so right.
Thick white carpeting. Oyster white walls, unrelieved except for one pastel
waterscape. Furniture such a pale shade of blue it almost looked white. She d bought it
when she found she could no longer sleep alone in the bed she and Joe had shared
before his death. In the bed where they d conceived two children in quick succession,
children who never got to know their father, thanks to a drunk driver. A framed photo
of those children Bridget and Ryan sat on the top of a dresser whose only other
adornment was a gold-rimmed tray that held a brush and comb set at precise angles.
Even her wedding picture had been put away long ago, as she shut every vestige of
emotion out of her life.
She d done the same with everything else. Clung to the apartment as long as she
could, then moved as soon as she could force herself to. First to the townhouse, then to
this home. Investigated day care more intensively than the Secret Service. Kept a [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]