Lead Me On by Crystal Green

Author:Crystal Green
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-09-08T04:00:00+00:00

9

THAT EVENING, LONG after Clint and Riley had finished putting in a day’s work with the horses and the women had wandered the property to inspect every wedding nook and cranny, Clint settled into the kitchen.

He’d decided to whip up a simple dinner, since Riley had been determined to sit Dani down and have a long talk about what was really going on with her.

He was just putting the main dish in the oven when he heard someone come in the front door.

Margot. It was the way her fashionable boots hit the floor with that easy, swaying stride. Or it could’ve been wishful thinking.

But he was right, and when she strolled into the kitchen, she greeted him while setting her computer pad down on the table.

“Whatever it is you’re cooking smells amazing,” she said.

“Lemon-garlic chicken.”

“Oh.” She laughed. “Good thing Riley is having that up-close-and-personal chat with Dani now and not later.”

The garlic. He got it.

“Where did they end up?” he asked.

“The gazebo, I think. Who knows how long they’ll be, though.”

“Dinner won’t be ready for about forty-five minutes, but they can grab some when they’re ready.”

“You should’ve asked for help.” Margot hovered by his side at the stove, all summer-wind shampoo and skin-fresh heat. “I’m not the world’s greatest cook, but I can be of some use.”

“It’s all under control.” He was talking about the food, because he sure wasn’t anywhere near control. His body felt as if it had a legion of pistons pumping inside him, even though he had nowhere to zoom off to.

Margot gathered some used bowls, transferring them to the sink. She had pulled her dark hair back in a barrette today, and it made the beauty of her face stand out that much more—the high cheekbones, the pale eyes, the feeling that, in spite of her steel spine, she was still a porcelain figurine, delicate and off-limits in so many ways.

As lust—because it was lust, wasn’t it?—swirled inside him, she seemed totally unaware of how she threw him into utter inner chaos.

Not knowing what else to do with himself, Clint got out two wineglasses, then a bottle of chilled chardonnay from the fridge. He poured them each a dose.

“Here’s to your crazy cooking skills, then,” she said as they clinked glasses.

They remained standing by the stove, drinking.

Why was this feeling like a date of sorts?

He could answer that more easily than anything else about them. Dinner was heating up in the oven and they were alone in a house that was silent except for the beat of the grandfather clock in the hallway and the night sounds outside the windows.

Maybe the same date question had entered her mind, too, because she took another belt of wine, as if she needed a buzz to be around him on a personal level.

Click, click, went the clock, chipping away at him.

Finally, he couldn’t stand the tension anymore.

They both started to talk at once, then laughed, and he gestured toward her.

“You first.” Please.

She traced a finger over the ceramic tile of the counter.

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