One Texas Night.... Sara Orwig

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      Three

      Sleep was long in coming. And when it did, it was filled with so many dreams of Jared, Allison felt relieved to wake and see the room filled with the gray light of dawn.

      She showered, dressed in pale yellow slacks and a matching shirt and went down to breakfast. Before she reached the bottom of the stairs, Jared appeared. He had been swimming. Bare chested, wearing black-and-white swim trunks with a towel over his shoulder, he paused to look up at her and her breath left her; her heart thudded against her ribs.

      Instantly memories bombarded her—his broad shoulders, his sculpted chest, his body of hard planes and muscles. Recalling her mouth drifting over him, her hands exploring, touching, his body against hers... The visions came like tormenting ghosts. Her mouth went dry, and she forced in a deep breath.

      She was afraid he could hear her heart pounding. “Morning swim?” she asked, her words little more than a whisper.

      “Yes. I swim every morning that I can. Even though the fountains and waterfall are turned off, I’ve kept the pool heated, cleaned and treated. Hereafter you can join me. I didn’t think to tell you last night.”

      “Thanks, but I’m not a morning swimmer. It has to be very hot weather to drive me to swimming.”

      “Then you’ve changed. I seem to remember you in the pool every time Sloan and I would swim at your house.”

      “It just seemed that way because in your eyes I was a nuisance back then,” she said, making an effort to keep her gaze on his face and not look at his naked chest again.

      He grinned. “I don’t ever recall saying you were a nuisance.”

      “Actually, you just paid no attention to me. I might as well have not existed.”

      “And now look at you—not a kid anymore and not the least bit a nuisance,” he said, his gaze drifting slowly over her and making her warm from head to toe.

      “I’m going to get breakfast. I’ll see you later,” she said, and then dragged her eyes away as she strode past him.

      He placed his hand lightly on her arm and she looked up sharply. His faint touch triggered more scalding memories. In her peripheral vision she was fully aware of how close he stood, how little he wore. “I’ll be there as soon as I shower and dress,” he said. His words were harmless; his deep tone was not.

      The pounding of her heart was loud in her ears. Nodding to Jared, she went down the stairs. At the foot of the steps, against good judgment, she glanced back. Standing at the top, he looked down at her. He turned, giving her a glance at his smooth back that tapered to a narrow waist, his firm butt and long muscled legs. Every inch of him embedded itself in her memory.

      She couldn’t help but want this job to be over quickly so she could return to her quiet life. But just a glance at Jared in all his half-naked glory had her hot, riddled with desire. She could have an affair with Jared, couldn’t she? But that was all it would be. An affair. An affair that would, ultimately, break her heart. He would never be serious—about her or any woman. He’d said as much just last night when he had listed all the wild, adventurous things he wanted to do. She told herself that even one night with him was a risk she didn’t want to take. But then she remembered his kisses—and she realized Jared Weston was temptation personified.

      She shook her head as if to dislodge the threatening thoughts and walked into the kitchen.

      The ultramodern kitchen boasted dark granite countertops, stainless-steel appliances, a polished hardwood floor, dark cabinets and crown molding. Someone, she noticed, had already made coffee, and a pitcher of cold orange juice was on the counter.

      She busied herself washing blueberries, washing and cutting strawberries. She turned to find Jared standing in the doorway.

      “You have a way of quietly appearing,” she said, trying to ignore the buzz her system experienced at the sight of him.

      “Just watching you work,” he said, coming into the kitchen. Her mouth became dry as he crossed the room to take the knife from her hands and place it on the counter. His tight jeans and navy knit shirt stretched against his sculpted muscles, giving him a more sensual appearance. As she looked up, she was barely aware of what he was doing because she was lost in his green eyes.

      “Go sit and I’ll do this,” he said, without making a move СКАЧАТЬ