Wyoming Wife?
The past two months, however, had been difficult ones for her. In spite of all her careful planning, she’d had the feeling that something was wrong. What bothered her the most was that she did not feel as upset about that possibility as she should have. She had refused to deal with the fact that perhaps she did not love Jerry, at least not enough to sustain a marriage commitment.
Her trip to Denver was as much to clarify her own feelings as to see Jerry. He continually chided her about being too structured and compulsive, about having to plan out every facet of her life. She had eagerly anticipated his look of surprise followed by exclamations of pleasure at her impulsive decision to make the trip.
The image of what had really occurred came rushing back to her. The shocked expression that had covered Jerry’s face when he opened his front door had not been one of pleasure. His dark hair was bedroom tousled and he wore a hastily thrown-on robe. He had stammered awkwardly while blocking her entrance to the house. Then she had seen the reason why. The woman who had casually strolled out of his bedroom was dressed in one of his T-shirts. It was barely long enough to reach her upper thighs and she obviously had nothing on underneath it.
Samantha had seen the guilt in his eyes, but his embarrassment had clearly come from having been caught, rather than any regrets about his actions. She had turned and walked away, and Jerry Kensington had made no attempt to stop her. She had never in her life felt as betrayed as she had at that moment...or as alone.
That was two days ago. Since then she had driven aimlessly through Colorado and into Wyoming until she had become stranded in the middle of nowhere, plucked out of a snowstorm by a stranger in a helicopter and whisked away to a ranch. She had no idea where she was, other than somewhere in Wyoming. Her life had always been so organized, structured and carefully controlled. She had no practical experience dealing with turmoil or unplanned events.
She also had no practical experience with the way Jace made her feel. The physical side of her relationship with Jerry Kensington had been carefully planned, too...just the type of predictability she thought she had wanted. But it was also dull. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind she had wished he would just once do something exciting to surprise her. She knew that was an absolute contradiction to everything she had professed to want out of life, but she couldn’t stop the thought.
She carefully took in her current surroundings. It was a large, comfortable room that gave the impression of many happy family gatherings over the years. She felt a moment of sadness. Happy family gatherings had not been part of her childhood. And now, after that disastrous and humiliating scene with her fiancé—she corrected herself: Jerry Kensington was now her exfiancé—it did not look as though they would be part of her future, either.
She straightened her posture and squared her shoulders as she forced a new determination. It was obvious that being in a relationship—marriage and a family—was not to be. She would throw herself into her career and concentrate on being a success in the business world. It would guarantee her a comfortable future. That should be enough. Being stuck at this ranch was only a minor interruption of her plan. She would make the best of it for the short duration of her stay, then return to Los Angeles as soon as the weather cleared.
A cold blast of air whipped in as Jace came through the front door. He stomped his boots on the floor mat to knock away the snow, pulled off his gloves and removed his heavy jacket. Then his gaze fell on the mystery lady. There was something very appealing about the way the large robe enclosed her body—and very enticing. He cleared his mind of the inappropriate thoughts and crossed the room to the fireplace. “Did you find everything you need?”
“Yes, thank you.” She turned up the collar of the robe, then nervously tugged at the sash, pulling it tighter around her waist. “I sure appreciate the use of this robe.” His nearness sent little tingles across her bare skin and a flush of heat across her cheeks. She lowered her gaze to the floor, too embarrassed to meet the silvery shimmer of his eyes any longer. She tried to calm the nervous excitement that welled inside her.
“The robe belongs to Helen. I’ll pass on your appreciation.” He could not stop the surge of desire that rushed through him.
Her voice quavered slightly, attesting to a nervousness. “Helen? Who is she?”
He paid an undue amount of attention to the fire in an effort to dismiss the very real physical allure that continued to tug at his consciousness. “Helen Downey. She’s the housekeeper and cook. Her son, Ben, is my ranch foreman.”
Samantha looked around, searching for the owner of the robe. “Is she here? I’d like to thank her for the considerate gesture.”
“Nope. Helen’s in Florida visiting her daughter.” Jace stared at his houseguest for an uncomfortable moment. She smelled of soap and radiated a scrubbed freshness. She stood about five foot six. Her short, chestnut-colored hair feathered softly around her face, accentuating her delicate features. Her neatly pedicured toes peeked out from beneath the long robe.
Another hard jolt of desire stabbed at his insides, then reverberated through his body. He did not even know her name. He had not asked, and she had not volunteered the information. It made the whole thing seem strangely exciting, almost like some sort of clandestine rendezvous designed strictly for lascivious pleasure without any strings or emotional attachments.
His disconcerting stare caused little tremors to form inside her body. She took a calming breath and tried her best to project a businesslike outer persona while attempting to regain control of the situation. “I’m afraid we sort of got off on the wrong foot. I’ve been very inconsiderate in not introducing myself. My name is Samantha Burkett and I’m from Los Angeles.” She held out her hand toward him. “And you said you’re Jace Tremayne?” The moment their hands clasped together she felt the outdoors cold that lingered on his skin. But underneath that exterior was a very human warmth that radiated a soft glow and sent a sensual little tingle up her arm.
“Tremayne...” He had not released her hand from his grasp nor had she withdrawn it. “I remember seeing a large gated entrance with the name Tremayne above it, and I think Tremayne Road was where I had turned just before skidding into that snowdrift. Is that you?”
“That was my great-great-grandfather. He settled on this land and started the ranch shortly after the Union Pacific Railroad was established here, several years before Wyoming was even a state. The ranch’s primary business has always been the raising of beef cattle, but my father expanded into other areas when he granted some mining leases on the northern acreage about twenty-five years ago.”
“I’ve always lived in a large city, and I don’t really know anything about ranching. In fact, I’ve never even been on a ranch before, or a farm, either. It would seem to me to be an isolated type of lifestyle. How far are you from a real city?”
The warmth lingered even after he withdrew his hand, but the soft glow quickly disappeared as his eyes narrowed before he responded to her question. “A real city? As opposed to what? Oh, yes. You’re from Los Angeles...obviously a real city. However, your car had Colorado license plates.”
She caught the edge of sarcasm in his voice. His statement sounded more like an accusation than a comment. “It’s a rental from the Denver airport. I picked it up a couple of days ago.”
Jace cocked his head, a quizzical expression spreading across his face. “You flew from Los Angeles to Denver, rented a car and then drove out into a snowstorm dressed in a silk suit? Do you always set out on such harebrained and foolhardy escapades?”
He may have been a momentary knight in shining armor whose charging white steed was realty a helicopter, but that did not give him the right to pry into her personal life. She made no effort to hide her irritation. “I’m not an irrational person, and I’ve never done an impulsive thing in my—” Well, she couldn’t say that anymore. It was her one and only impulsive action that had gotten her into this mess.
She nervously played with the gold chain around her neck. “I’m a professional businesswoman and am accustomed to dressing in a businesslike manner.”
The hint of sarcasm she had noticed earlier in his voice had intensified. “Oh? And just what is it you do in that professional businesswoman capacity of yours while living in a real city?”
He seemed to be baiting her, and she did not understand why. “I work for a consulting firm. I do time-and-motion studies for large corporations to help them run their operations more efficiently.”
He could not stop his total surprise from coming through. “You’re an efficiency expert?” He quickly regained his composure. “Then you should have done a more efficient job of planning your trip.” He wasn’t sure why he had taken such a harsh attitude with her. It was not his nature to be sarcastic or argumentative. There was something very disconcerting about this woman, something that aroused his most basic desires, and it made him uncomfortable. He tried to alleviate his concerns by reminding himself that she was just passing through and would be leaving as soon as possible to return to the real city—a place that apparently suited her lifestyle.
She glared at him. “I might have acted foolishly, even a bit impetuously, but that doesn’t make me an empty-headed ditz, and I’d appreciate it if you would remember that!” She stood with her hands on her hips, making an obvious effort to look as tough as possible. “I certainly owe you my gratitude for pulling me out of a difficult situation, but I resent your insinuation that I’ve got a screw loose!”
Two
Jace could not stop the smile from spreading across his face, then he broke out into an uninhibited laugh that filled the room with warmth and fun. Maybe it was the way she stood glaring at him, trying her best to be all hard edges and cold steel, when in fact she was soft curves and warm flesh.
Samantha blinked a couple of times, then stared at him in disbelief. “What do you find so funny, Mr. Tremayne?”
“It’s Jace. Please...call me Jace.”
His smile was so infectious that her anger drained away, leaving her feeling a little foolish...and confused. “All right...Jace.” She wasn’t sure what to say or how to proceed. She returned a somewhat shy smile, then glanced around the room again. “This is a nice house. Has it been here from the time of your great-great-grandfather?”
“The central core of the house, this room and three others, are about 120 years old. There have been several additions and upgrades over the years, resulting in this large, rambling structure.”
“I live in a small apartment.” She looked up at him. Her gaze locked with his. She experienced a shortness of breath and her words became hesitant, “It...it must be very nice to have so much room for you and your family.” It had been an innocent statement on her part. She hadn’t consciously given any thought as to whether Jace Tremayne was married.
No—that was certainly not true. She had noticed as soon as he had removed his gloves that he wore no wedding ring. She’d also been aware of the lack of family things in the house. There were old photographs of people she assumed to be family members, but nothing to indicate a wife and children. And then there was the robe. It belonged to his housekeeper, not his wife.
Jace nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I...uh...my family doesn’t live here. There is the full-time ranch staff, of course. And Helen...and Ben. My parents...the winters got to be too much for them...and, uh...well, they live in Scottsdale, Arizona.” What was there about Samantha Burkett that caused him to suddenly start stammering like some sort of adolescent schoolboy? He felt the irritation spreading inside him. He had never had that problem before and he did not like the feeling.
“I think the fire could use some more wood.” It was a minor diversion, but one he desperately needed. He grabbed a couple of logs and added them in the fireplace.
He turned back to face Samantha. He felt awkward asking the question of a total stranger, especially considering the very real physical desire that had been constantly tugging at his consciousness ever since her arrival, but reality had to be dealt with and the storm outside was the reality of the moment. “You do know that you’ll have to stay here overnight, don’t you? Maybe even longer.”
Jace saw the objection forming on her face and the uncertainty in her hazel eyes that quickly changed to concern as she took a step backward. He spoke in a very matter-of-fact tone. “No point in you accepting or rejecting the idea. It’s out of your hands...and out of my hands, too. The weather dictates. Right now all but the main highway is shut down and it looks like that could be shut down, at any time. With the winds kicking up the way they are, taking the copter up is not an option.”
A sudden jolt of apprehension hit Samantha. She didn’t want it to sound as if she were accusing him of improper behavior, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about staying overnight in a house alone with him, especially in light of the unexpected attraction she felt toward him. “You...uh...said your housekeeper, Helen, is visiting her daughter in Florida? Are you the only ones who live in this house? I mean, it’s such a large house for only two people. Don’t any of the other employees...” She was not sure how to finish her sentence.
“The ranch hands live in the bunkhouse. It’s not as austere as it sounds. Unlike the picture presented in the movies and on television, it’s actually more akin to a college dorm. There are bedrooms with two people to a room, plus a central living-dining room and a kitchen. It’s really quite comfortable.”
“Well, that’s certainly different from what I would have thought.” The anxiety still flitted around inside her stomach. It looked as if it would be just the two of them in the house after all.
“You seem to be uncomfortable,” Jace said. “Let me assure you that you’re perfectly safe—”
“Oh, no...it’s not that. I certainly didn’t mean to imply—” Embarrassment cut off her words as she turned back toward the fire. She didn’t have a problem talking with people, even complete strangers. Being able to communicate information was part of her job. So why was she having so much difficulty talking with Jace Tremayne? And exactly what was her problem? Perhaps her concerns were not with Jace’s behavior, but rather with her own desires and curiosities about this incredibly sexy man.
Samantha stared at the flames in the fireplace. She’d been totally unprepared for any of the happenings that had occurred since she left Los Angeles. Spur-of-the-moment decisions and snap judgments were not part of her life. She needed to plan, to research, to gather all the facts and study all available information in order to make an intelligent evaluation and determine a viable procedure. The last few days had presented her with enough unexpected happenings to fill her quota for several years.
And the biggest surprise of all was the way Jace Tremayne made her insides quiver and her pulse race. It was inappropriate, very confusing...and very real. It was also totally absurd. He was a cowboy, a rugged outdoors man—not at all the type of man who would fit into her world. And a cattle ranch in Wyoming was certainly no place for her.
She shoved away the inappropriate thoughts. She was not sure where they had come from, but she wished they would go away. She had nothing in common with him, and that was the end of it.
The front door flew open with a loud crash, sending a blast of cold air through the room. Samantha and Jace both turned to see what was going on.
“I think we’re okay, Jace.” Ben Downey quickly closed the door. He removed his hat and hit it against his leg to knock off the snow, then stomped his boots against the floor mat before venturing into the room. “Denny and George are going to do periodic checks of the barn and henhouse. If the storm cuts off the electricity, we’ll need to get generator power to those incubators as soon as possible or we’ll lose all the chicks.” Ben paused as he stared at Samantha.
Jace quickly made the introductions. “Ben, this is Samantha Burkett. Her car was stuck in the snow. I spotted her just as I made the final pass over the back pasture before heading home. It looks like she’ll be staying here until things clear out. Samantha, this is Ben Downey, my ranch foreman.”
Ben nodded toward Samantha. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. Sorry about the storm putting a hitch in your plans.” Ben returned his attention to Jace and the business at hand. “I need to get some extra supplies transferred from the pantry to the bunkhouse kitchen.” Ben hurried out the door to complete his chores, once again braving the stormy afternoon.
Jace had been thankful for the break in his 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.