The Ransomes: Matt, Nick and Katherine. Sara Orwig
smile seducing and befuddling?” she asked in mock disbelief, for a moment letting go worries and enjoying his company, bubbling inside because he was flirting.
“You know what you’re doing,” he said, inhaling deeply and she flashed him another merry smile, wishing she could befuddle him enough to get him to agree to what she wanted.
“Yes! So may the best man—or woman—win!” she exclaimed, holding her water glass up in a toast to him.
Eyes twinkling, he touched her glass with his. “You’re on. But then this battle is already under way.”
“And you’re flirting shamelessly,” she said. “Besides the gifts and dinner and clothes and the evening out.”
“All my weaponry pales beside yours—your face, your body, your smile, that dress, your legs. You have the edge and you know it.”
“Whoo!” She fanned herself. “I didn’t know you’d noticed,” she purred, enjoying flirting with him. “You have armor that protects you totally. You are shielded and immune.”
“Forget dinner. Let’s dance,” he said, coming around the table to take her hand to lead her to the dance floor. After a few minutes he looked down at her. “You’ve gotten the hang of it. You’re very good at this.”
She laughed. “Your flattery overwhelms me! Wait until I step on your toe again.”
“I mean it. You’re doing fine. Don’t you like this?” he asked in a silky voice.
She slanted him a look. “You’re flirting again.”
“So what’s wrong with that? No harm done. You’re a beautiful woman and a sexy one. Why shouldn’t I flirt?”
“Don’t expect it to lead you anywhere.”
“Where did you think I want to go?” he asked.
She shook her head and laughed again. “Don’t tell me you don’t want me in your bed.”
“I’ll tell you one thing I don’t want in my life—any emotional complication. Judging by your demands, I don’t think you want any in your life.”
“I definitely don’t. Not with a Ransome, thank you.”
“I take it you and I will never have a handshake deal, even if we finally do come to a mutual agreement?”
“I keep my word.”
“I’ll damn well keep mine,” he said. “Stop mixing me up with Jeff.”
The next number was a fast one and when she turned to leave, he caught her hand.
“I really can’t do this—” she protested.
“You’re a quick study. Watch my feet and then follow me,” he said, pulling her with him.
She did what he said and soon she was dancing with him. He spun her around, caught her and then returned to the quick steps. She studied his feet for a few more minutes and then looked up to find him watching her intently. Her heartbeat skipped and she drew her breath, tossing her head and feeling her hair swing.
“Perfect,” he said softly.
“Not really. I’ve stepped on you twice.”
“Never felt it. Accept my offer, Olivia, and have a better life and an easier one,” he urged. “We’re a mere technicality away from what you want.”
She shook her head. “That isn’t quite the same.”
He spun her around and yanked her up against him, his arm banding her waist instantly and holding her close while he looked down at her. She felt his hard length pressed against her and she wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him. At the same time, she looked into his eyes and felt the clash with him over their futures. She knew the light moments were gone and the flirting was over.
He spun her away from him and then the music stopped. Gasping for breath, she let him take her hand and she felt the calluses on his palm that indicated he really did do ranch work.
“Let’s go back to the hotel and talk things over,” he suggested.
Knowing they might as well get back to business, she nodded. At the door she glanced back over her shoulder. In the past couple of hours, she had had the time of her life, the best she could remember.
She was surprised by her own reaction and wondered if she had really been in love with Jeff at all.
In the limo she was as silent as Matt, aware they were each locked in separate worlds. At the hotel as they reached their adjoining suites, Matt shed his coat and tie and unfastened the collar of his shirt. “Let me come in for a while. I’ll order tea or lemonade or whatever you’d like,” he suggested.
She nodded and opened her door, moving inside. He followed and tossed his coat on a chair. “What would you like to drink?” he asked.
“Hot cocoa,” she said, wondering if she could drink anything. Her nervousness had returned, but she didn’t want it to show. All evening she had felt as if what she wanted was slipping through her fingers. She could feel his resistance to her offer. When he said no, was she ready to make her decision and stick by it?
He ordered a pot of hot chocolate and a cold beer. Only one lamp burned in the fancy suite and in the soft light, his appeal heightened. It would have been easier to deal with him if she hadn’t had this fiery sexual reaction to him. And why the chemistry she couldn’t imagine because they fought for opposing goals. She suspected he truly did not like her at all. Facing him, she knew part of his attraction was his rugged good looks and a sexiness that probably drew most females he encountered.
He moved around the room, turning on soft music, dimming the light, rolling back his cuffs, seductive moves, yet she knew seduction wasn’t his goal. He wanted her to agree to his offer. His control was admirable because she guessed it was an effort for him. She suspected he usually got his way.
At a knock on the door, she watched Matt cross the room in long strides to let the bellman wheel in a cart with a silver pot, china cups and two cold beers on ice. Olivia sat on a wingback chair and crossed her legs. In minutes, Matt handed her a cup of steaming chocolate.
“It’s too hot to drink right now,” she said, placing it on a coffee table and then leaning back.
When he sat nearby and gave her a long look, she drew a deep breath. “I feel like the proverbial bug under a microscope,” she said.
“An absolutely stunning butterfly, maybe. A bug—no,” he answered quietly, his gaze drifting lazily over her while she couldn’t avoid being pleased by his compliment. “Are you ready to discuss the terms of my offer?”
She shrugged. “It’s not essential because I really do not intend to accept it. I prefer that you accept my proposal.”
“Let’s just say, ‘What if?’ and talk about my offer for a while. All right?”
“I suppose, as long as you don’t abandon me here in Houston if we don’t come to an agreement. I do want to return to Rincon.”
“I promise to get you home and I don’t intend to reach a decision tonight. I only want to talk things over. When I first approached you, we were complete strangers.”
“And the brief time we’ve been together has made a difference?” she asked in surprise because it hadn’t changed her opinions.
He set the bottle on a table. “We’ll live in my house, but what happens if you want to go out with someone or start seeing someone regularly?”
She shook her head. “You’re assuming we will go with your offer.”
“Let’s discuss it.”
“It’s pointless to, but if it makes you happy, all right,” she said. “For now, I don’t want any man in my life. Not at all. You’re