Authors: Francis Ray
“Skylar, we should go back inside,” Jason suggested.
Skylar continued to stare at the fading lights of the golf cart until Jason stepped
in front of her and gently urged her back inside, then closed the door. Her gaze shot
to the man in his early thirties dressed completely in black, with broad shoulders,
a square jaw, and light eyes. Beneath his lightweight jacket was a .45 pistol in a
shoulder holster.
His expression didn’t change. “Boss won’t be happy to learn I didn’t take good care
of you.”
She tunneled her hand though her hair. If anyone was seriously after her or the auction
pieces, standing with the front door wide open in bright light wasn’t smart. But she
was worried about Rio. What if there was someone else out there his men hadn’t detected?
“The boss can take care of himself,” Jason said as if reading her mind, his Georgian
drawl thick. “Why don’t we go into the kitchen. I’ll fix you a cup of coffee.”
He was trying, but nothing would help until she knew if there was real danger or just
someone trying to sneak onto the property. “I’m fine, thank you. How long does it
take to get to section four?”
“Four minutes. Conner would have already run his ID if he had any on. He’s also sent
someone to the road to see if he had a vehicle or motorbike. Or someone could have
dropped him off.”
Skylar glanced at her watch. She was usually patient. But not with Rio possibly being
in harm’s way. Instinctively, she was aware he’d put himself in front of his men if
there was any real danger.
And he’d want her safe when he did. She had to be as brave as he was. “How about I
make the coffee?”
“I’d appreciate it.”
In the kitchen, Skylar made coffee she had no intention of drinking, but she needed
to keep busy. Jason had probably accepted for the same reason. She handed him a steaming
mug just as his radio went off.
Her eyes widened.
“All clear. Yellow alert canceled.” Rio’s voice came through loud and clear.
Skylar’s cell phone rang seconds later. “Rio.”
“It was a reporter. Back in twenty. Bye.”
She almost sagged with relief. “Jason, how about some food to go with that coffee.”
“You cooking?”
Skylar playfully held up her hands. “With my own two.”
“Thanks. Don’t mind if I do.” Jason took a seat at the table, but his back was to
the wall and he could see the back kitchen door and the hallway. The alert might be
over, but clearly Jason wasn’t letting his guard down.
* * *
Rio was two minutes later than he’d expected when he stepped out of the converted
golf cart; it had halogen headlights and four-wheel drive, and was capable of reaching
sixty miles an hour. He bounded up the steps, punched in the code, and opened the
front door.
Jason stood slightly in front of Skylar, but she quickly stepped around him. She was
smiling. Her hands were clasped to keep her out of trouble, her hazel eyes twinkling.
Rio felt the warmth of her smile all the way to his soul.
“I’ll be going. ’Night, boss. ’Night, Skylar, and thanks for the coffee and food.”
Jason closed the door behind him.
Skylar was running the instant the door closed. Rio caught her to him, taking the
lips she offered.
“You all right?” he asked, his arms still wrapped around her trim waist.
“I am now.” She sighed and rested her head against his chest briefly before lifting
her head again. “I admit I wasn’t too steady until you called.”
He palmed her face. “There was never any danger and, if there had been, I would have
taken care of it.”
“And I know that here.” She pointed to her head. “But here…” She touched her heart.
“… is a different matter altogether.”
He didn’t want her worried every time he had to check out an intruder. His eyes narrowed.
Every time.
Had he started thinking about them being together after the auction?
“What is it?” she asked.
“Just thinking.” Pulling her arms from around his neck, he started for the stairs.
“The first delivery is at eight thirty in the morning. You better get some rest.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s barely nine thirty.”
“You can check on the bids and other things.” He continued up the stairs. He needed
to do a lot of thinking.
“Are you going to tuck me in?” She glanced up at him through a sweep of thick, dark
eyelashes.
His manhood leaped at the prospect. “I think you can do that by yourself.”
She stopped in front of her door and circled his waist with her arms. “One day you
won’t be able to say no.”
Staring down into her stunning face, her soft lips curved temptingly, inhaling her
fragrance, he felt as if she might be right. “Skylar, I’m not a home-and-hearth type
of man. Eventually, I’ll move on. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Her hands moved to flatten against his chest. He knew his heartbeat was unsteady.
“The only way to hurt me is to walk away. I told you, I’m my own woman. I want to
be your woman.”
Her softly spoken words sank deep into him. They were so much like what he had thought
earlier. He couldn’t remember a time someone had been just for him. His two best friends,
Blade and Shane, had wives. Even the Man With No Name had helped others before and
after him. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Skylar looked at him with suspicion. “You better not dump me.”
“After we talk, you might want to dump me.” He’d intended the words to come out flat;
they hadn’t. They’d held a bit of uncertainty laced with longing.
“Not happening.” Gathering fistfuls of his shirt, she rose to her tiptoes and kissed
him long and hard. “That should last until in the morning.”
It wouldn’t, but it would have to do. “I won’t make it to breakfast.”
“Lunch? I think I can last that long without another kiss.”
She made him smile. She was outspoken, gutsy, incredibly beautiful, and caring. “All
right.”
She kissed him again. “You taste better each time. Good night.”
“Good night, Skylar.”
Opening her door, she went inside and slowly inched the door closed as if wanting
to look at him for as long as possible. He heard the lock engage.
He stood there a few moments longer, then headed for the command center. He had work
to do. Going up the stairs, for better or for worse, he carried Skylar’s smile with
him.
* * *
Skylar woke up in a fabulous mood. Things were coming along nicely with Rio, if a
bit slower than she’d like. She threw back the covers, grabbed her lingerie, and went
to the bathroom. She wanted to know they were a couple before she left for Tucson.
Once he was committed to her, he’d stick. Until then, he might walk away.
She needed the words.
Too keyed up to bother with running a bath, she showered and quickly dressed in a
long-sleeved emerald-green mid calf sheath, black tights, a chunky gold-and-emerald
bracelet, necklace, and drop earrings. After she combed her hair over her shoulders,
she stepped into emerald-green suede platform shoes.
She snagged her iPad on the way out the door to breakfast. She wasn’t that hungry,
but she wanted to tell Mary there would be two for lunch. Hopefully, Rio wouldn’t
cancel on her.
In the hall leading to the small dining room, she met Mr. Patterson, the house manager.
Sadly he looked more haggard than he had last week. Worry was in the deep lines of
his forehead, the droop of his mouth, the dark circles beneath his eyes. Whatever
problem he had, it clearly hadn’t gone away.
“Good morning, Mr. Patterson. I hope you had a restful day off yesterday,” Skylar
greeted.
He nodded, not quite able to hold his smile or her gaze. “Thank you. I had a very
restful day, but it’s always nice to come back here.”
“I’m sure.” She was not going to embarrass him again. “This is a wonderful home. I
can clearly see why you like coming to work.”
“Yes. If you’ll excuse me. I want to check all the rooms to ensure that everything
is as it should be.”
He was as conscientious and as dedicated as Rio. “Of course.”
With another nod, he continued down the hall. Skylar stared after him for a couple
of seconds, then continued to breakfast, wishing he felt comfortable enough to talk
to her about his problems.
* * *
Skylar walked out the front door of the castle to the tent at eight twenty-four. The
weather had turned cooler, as Mary had said at breakfast. Blessing her mother for
packing her black cashmere serape, Skylar went down the steps, the ends of the oversized
shawl lifting with each bouncing step, her gaze searching for Rio.
Her spirits sagged a bit when she only saw Conner and Henderson. “Good morning,” she
greeted.
“’Morning, Skylar,” the men responded in unison.
She took her seat and turned on her iPad, surreptitiously trying to watch for Rio.
Moments later, when she saw him coming from the direction of the men’s quarters, her
heart thumped and her pulse raced. Tall, broad-shouldered, he walked with confidence,
his steps quickly eating up the distance between them. This morning he wore a black
jean jacket, white shirt, and black jeans.
Her mouth dried just looking at him. His curly black hair was pulled back as usual,
exposing his razor-sharp cheekbones, thick lashes over midnight-black eyes, sensual
lips, and a slightly crooked nose that gave a dangerous, rakish quality to his heart-stopping
face. Despite his hard stare, he was gorgeous.
“Good morning.” He stopped in front of Skylar’s table.
She suddenly felt a bit unsteady with him staring down at her. “Good morning.”
His eyes narrowed. He’d heard the quivering in her voice. “It’s going to be a bit
cool early this morning until the sun comes out. Go back inside. I’ll call you when
the packages are unwrapped.”
She stood and held out the serape. “Boston, remember. I’ve gone swimming in weather
colder than this. But thanks.” Rewrapping the serape, she retook her seat and picked
up her iPad.
She was acutely aware of Rio still standing in front of her. No one, besides Blade
and Sierra, went against his orders. Especially in front of other employees.
“Skylar.” There was the tiniest bit of warning in his otherwise flat voice.
She finally looked up. His face wasn’t hard and neither were his eyes, but they weren’t
warm, either. “Rio, I’d like to stay. The first time I sneeze or cough or reach for
a tissue, I’ll go inside. Girl Scout’s honor.”
“The first truck is coming,” Conner said.
Please,
she mouthed.
I want to stay with you.
“One sniffle and you’re in the house.”
“Thank you.” She grinned. “You’ll see. I’m stronger than I look.”
Wordlessly, Rio turned and walked to the delivery truck.
* * *
Rio kept an eye on Skylar. At the first sign that she was getting sick, she was going
inside if he had to carry her.
I want to stay with you.
She looked so damn beautiful. When she’d held the serape with her arms outstretched,
the material of her dress had pulled tightly over her breasts. It had been all he
could do not to let his gaze linger there. He’d let her ignore his order because,
heaven help him, he wanted her to stay as well.
As always, she’d proven she was up to the challenge of the colder weather. Less than
two hours later she had thrown off the serape. While he was glad to see the weather
warming, the long dress skimming over her sleek body gave him a lot of bad moments.
It didn’t help that she always stood next to him while he opened packages. She was
quietly driving him to the edge of wanting her.
Finally, he’d reached his limit. “Skylar, why don’t you call and double-check the
guest list to ensure they still plan to come, and politely remind them that only those
on the guest list will be allowed past the guardhouse?”
“I did that last week,” she replied as another delivery truck pulled away. “I don’t
want to make a nuisance of myself.”
She was efficient and methodical. “How are the bids going?” he asked.
Her face lit up. “Wonderful. Mrs. Grayson will be so pleased. The guests on the premises
can take their purchases or have them shipped directly to their homes. They can watch
the item being packaged for shipment if they desire. Sierra said I could use the gift-wrapping
room.”
“You seem to have thought of everything.”
“Not everything.” She reached across him to pick up a pair of scissors, her breasts
brushing against his arm. “But I’m working on it.”
He was about to blow. “Behave. Remember the Jeep.”
Her eyes grew wide, then cut to him, then downward. Her face flushed. She looked contrite.
“Rio, I need to show you one of the auction pieces inside. If you have a moment.”
Because he needed a few moments to cool down, he followed her inside to the room where
the auction pieces were being held. That she had known and given him an excuse to
leave only marginally worked in her favor. He was ready to chew nails—or better yet,
grab her and run to her bedroom.
“I’m sorry.” Her shoulders were hunched.
She looked miserable. How could she not know how all the touching, teasing, and double
meaning bothered him? Unless. He closed his eyes. This could not be happening to him.
No way was what he was thinking the truth. Skylar acted as if she knew what she was
doing. “How many boyfriends have you had?”
She blinked, startled by the question. “Enough.”
“Define
enough
.” He crossed his arms.
Her gaze bounced off his. “Three.”
“What!” He snatched his arms to his sides “When?”
“Two in high school, and one in college.” She clasped her hands. “I never was that
interested in boys except as friends. You know my cousin Tracy has an older brother,
Carson. Boys were always hanging around their house, and since they lived next door
and I was an only child, I was over there a lot.”
“Go on,” he urged when she stopped talking.
She swallowed. “As we grew older, Carson and his friends put the word out that if
any boy got out of line, they wouldn’t like the consequences. Since Carson was BMOC,
six-feet-plus, captain of the state football team, boys listened, out of either fear
or respect. He was just as much of a huge figure on the college campus.”