In His Brother's Place (4 page)

* * *

It was after 10:00 p.m. when Angie carried the dinner tray down to the kitchen. Switching on the light above the sink, she took a moment to rinse and stack the dishes.

In darkness once more, she walked out onto the patio. A whimper escaped her lips as she lowered herself to a stone bench. She hadn’t been on a horse in years and her thigh muscles screamed from the morning ride. The long day had worn her out, but before sleep she needed a few minutes to clear her head.

The old Spanish fountain tinkled in the stillness. Beyond the adobe walls, a waning moon hung above the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. The night breeze carried a hint of autumn chill. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Jordan’s voice, from the shadows behind her, kicked Angie’s pulse to a gallop.

“I saw the light come on in the kitchen,” he said. “Is there anything you need?”

She shook her head.

“I missed you at dinner. Especially since I’d planned to apologize for my high-handedness this morning.”

An apology from the almighty Jordan Cooper? Her instincts sprang to high alert. “I was working,” she said. “My clients depend on me to keep their websites updated.”

“Something tells me you work too hard.” His hands came to rest on her shoulders, strong thumbs slipping around to massage the knotted muscles at the back of her neck. The voice of caution whispered that Jordan never did anything without a purpose. Until she was sure what he was after, she should avoid accepting any favors from him. And that meant she should pull away. But his touch was pure heaven. She could feel the tension draining from her tired body. She closed her eyes.

“Feel good?” His hands moved lower to ease the tightness between her shoulder blades. She quivered as his fingers skimmed the fastening of her bra through her thin shirt.

“Mmm-hmm...” she purred.

“Since you’re likely hurting from our morning ride, I can offer something even better. The pool’s drained and covered for the season, but there’s a hot tub on the other side of that wall. Be my guest.”

Once again caution reared its head, reminding her of her resolve not to give in to his attempts to win her over. Yet the thought of that warm water easing her misery was like a siren’s call. But better safe than sorry, Angie reminded herself. “It sounds lovely,” she hedged, “but—”

“But you don’t have a bathing suit? No problem. There’s a dressing room close by. My mother kept robes and a basket of spare suits in there for guests. You’re bound to find something that’ll do for a dark night. Go on, now, you’ve run out of excuses. I’ll get it warmed up.”

This was a mistake, Angie chided herself as she rummaged through the oversize laundry basket. Every minute she spent with Jordan ripped away another layer of her defenses, leaving her raw and exposed. He was so like Justin, yet so different—and in all the wrong ways.

As for the swimsuits, most of them looked as if they’d been here since the 1940s. Here was a black bikini bottom that looked as if it might fit her. But the top was impossibly big. Never mind, she’d just wear her pink T-shirt.

Kicking off her jeans and underpants she pulled on the brief. As an afterthought, she unhooked her bra, worked it out from under her shirt and tossed it onto a bench with the rest of her clothes. Draping a white terry robe over her arm she followed the stone path around the garden wall.

Trust the Coopers not to have an ordinary hot tub. This one was built of native stone set low in the ground like a grotto. On one side, desert plants added to the natural setting. The other side was open to a sweeping view of the mountains.

By now the night air had grown chilly. A shimmering curtain of steam rose from the water’s rippling surface.

Angie laid the robe on a stool and stepped down into the delicious warmth. Settling onto the lip of the underwater bench, she sank up to her shoulders and closed her eyes.
Heaven.

Smiling blissfully, she opened her eyes. Only then did Angie realize she wasn’t alone. From the far side of the hot tub, Jordan’s face grinned back at her.

Four

“I
didn’t know this was going to be a party.” Angie’s voice was edgy, her manner clearly distrustful. Maybe she thought he was out to seduce her.

That hadn’t been Jordan’s intent. He’d only hoped to put her at ease, maybe relax her enough for a civil conversation that wouldn’t end in her storming off to her room. But seeing her like this, with damp curls framing her face and that pink shirt clinging to her skin, was putting all the wrong ideas into his head. Time to defuse the tension.

“Should I have made margaritas?” he joked. “I can, you know. Just ask.”

“I’ll pass, thanks. This is an amazing hot tub. I don’t remember it from before.”

Before, meaning when she was here with Justin.

“I had it built for my mother, to help her arthritis.” And his mother hadn’t used it even once, Jordan recalled. She’d moved out soon after it was finished.

“How was Lucas after the ride?” Jordan changed the subject. “Did he say he enjoyed it?”

“It’s all he’s talked about. That and getting a puppy.” She lifted dripping hands to slick back her hair, raising her breasts above the water. The outline of her nipples through the wet pink fabric sent a stab of heat to his loins. His swelling erection strained the crotch of his swim trunks.

This wasn’t in the plan. He’d been attracted to Angie all along, and would have jumped at the chance to get her in his bed. But she’d been his brother’s girl. Except for that single slip-up in his car, he’d done an admirable job of keeping his thoughts above his belt and his hands to himself.

Now here she was, warm, sexy and no longer Justin’s girl—but still off limits. The irony of it was driving him crazy.

Jordan swore silently. Coming on to Angie would be a surefire way to convince her he couldn’t be trusted. But right now she looked as delectable as a hot-fudge strawberry sundae with whipped cream. It was all he could do to keep from scooping her up and enjoying a few licks, maybe even...

Damn!

“You’ve won this round, Jordan.” She settled back into the water, barely saving his sanity. “Lucas won’t give me a moment’s peace until he gets that puppy. But I’m warning you, if you ever pull anything like this again, without asking—”

“Lesson learned. We could look for a pup next week and surprise him. I’ll get a list of good kennels.”

“
Kennels?
With so many poor, sweet dogs waiting in shelters? Not on your life! I’ll take Lucas to the pound tomorrow and let him pick his own. And I’ll pay the adoption fee myself. That’s the deal—or no deal.”

“But wouldn’t you rather get him a purebred, with papers, than some common mutt?”

“Jordan Cooper, I never would have taken you for a dog snob!”

Her mischievous glare, through the rising tendrils of steam, was so sensual that Jordan bit back a groan. He knew better than to think he could take her. But he ached to have her close enough to touch. Earlier, the smooth tautness of her muscles beneath his hands had roused his senses. Now the desire to smell her damp hair and feel the satiny warmth of her skin through her wet shirt burned away all caution.

“We never did finish that shoulder rub.” His voice emerged thick and husky.

Her lips parted, but she said nothing to stop him as he moved alongside her and turned her shoulders away from him. He’d promised not to lay an ungentlemanly hand on her. But a friendly massage hardly qualified as improper, especially when the lady appeared willing.

He heard the sharp intake of her breath as his thumbs worked the tightness from the base of her neck. She was small-boned, almost fragile to the touch. But Jordan knew that beneath her softness was a core of tempered steel. Angelina Montoya was not a woman to be trifled with. He’d do well to remember that—now and in the days ahead.

* * *

Angie stifled a moan as his skilled fingers moved downward. What had begun as a chaste massage in the patio garden was evolving into something warm and sensual.

In the four years since Justin’s death, she hadn’t even dated. At first she’d been grieving. Then she’d been too busy rebuilding her life, earning a living and caring for her son. Strange, she’d almost forgotten how it felt to be touched by a man.

Delicate nerve endings quivered under the pressure of Jordan’s strong thumbs, shooting spirals of heat down her limbs and into the root of her belly. Slumbering urges woke and trembled. The moisture that slicked the crotch of her bikini had nothing to do with being in the water. Her control was sliding away and she had no will to stop it.

She should say something, she thought—start a conversation about something trivial that would break the tension. But her mind refused to form words, and Jordan wasn’t talking, either.

Angie’s head fell back as he manipulated her shoulder blades, working away the tension. Her nipples contracted like tiny fists, throbbing deliciously. How would it feel if his hands were to slide around to cradle her breasts through the clinging fabric of her T-shirt? Would he do it? Heaven help her,
did she want him to?

His fingers had reached the hem of her shirt. Slipping them beneath, he kneaded the small of her back. His touch on her bare skin triggered a rush like water breaking through winter ice. Her pulse slammed as his hands slid up her spine.

And abruptly halted.

“Massage over.” He withdrew his hands and eased away from her. She turned, staring at him in the darkness.

“I made you a promise, Angie.” His voice was a growl. “I don’t intend to break it, especially not on your second night here. Now off to bed for both of us. It’s getting late, and I’ve got meetings in town tomorrow.”

Hot-faced, she found the step, pushed out of the pool and grabbed the robe she’d left nearby. Wrapping it around her dripping body, she looked back. Jordan was still in the hot tub. “Aren’t you coming?” she asked.

“In a minute. Go on.” He glanced down at the water. Only then did it hit her. The seemingly innocent massage had affected Jordan, too—in a way a man couldn’t hide.

Knotting the robe and yanking it tight, she fled to the dressing room.

* * *

How could she have let it happen?

Angie lay awake in the darkness, her thoughts churning.

From the first time she’d met him, Jordan Cooper had been her enemy. He’d fought against her engagement to Justin, and, like the rest of his family, he almost certainly blamed her for his brother’s plane crash. Rightly so, Angie reminded herself. If she’d taken the money he’d offered and broken their engagement, Justin would still be alive.

Jordan had every reason to hate her.

Now she was under his roof, and she had something he wanted—Justin’s son. He was already insinuating himself into her little boy’s life; and Lucas, so hungry for a father’s love, was falling under his spell.

Was he working his spell on her, too?

His “friendly” shoulder rub had aroused her to the melting point before he backed off, leaving her stunned and confused. Now she realized that Jordan had known exactly what he was doing.

How could she have forgotten that New Year’s Eve in his car, when his kisses had made her ache for more? He’d had an agenda then. He had one now. And that agenda was never, ever about her. She was just the tool he used to get his way. Back then, he’d wanted to drive a wedge between Angie and his brother. Now, he wanted her closer...so that he could work his way into her son’s life. As always, he was out to win, and he was weighting the odds in his favor.

With or without her help, Jordan was already making headway on his plans. Lucas loved the ranch, and he was over the moon about getting his own dog. For her to take him away and shut him into another cramped apartment would be devastating. She had to give her son this chance at a better life. But that didn’t mean stepping aside and letting Jordan take over.

Tonight Jordan had been angling for her trust, reeling her in just before he remembered his so-called promise. The worst of it was she’d almost fallen for his act. For that, she had no one to blame but herself.

Jordan’s touch had ignited a smoldering heat that burned through her body. His resemblance to Justin might have explained that. But deep down, Angie knew better.

Tonight in the hot tub, she hadn’t been thinking about Justin at all.

* * *

Jordan pulled his Mercedes into the drive at 4:25 the next afternoon. His heart dropped when he saw that Angie’s beat-up Toyota was missing. Had he pushed her too far? Had she packed up and left?

Relief dawned as he remembered she’d planned on taking Lucas to choose his puppy. Climbing out of the driver’s
seat, he saw her old blue sedan chugging up the road toward the house. That car would have to be replaced, he reminded himself. The tires were bald and the engine, he suspected, was on the verge of throwing a rod. Worse, it might not hold up in an accident. He wanted Angie and Lucas to be safe. He could only hope she wouldn’t be as stubborn about the car as she’d been about the dog.

And speaking of the dog... Jordan braced himself as the car pulled up on the far side of the driveway. Growing up, he and Justin had shared a beautiful golden retriever named Sunny. He’d hoped to find a similar animal for Lucas. But Angie’s insistence had won out. What kind of dog would a three-year-old choose from the city pound? He was about to find out.

He kept his distance as Angie got out of the car and opened the back door to unbuckle Lucas’s car seat. The boy tumbled out, gripping a red plastic leash.

“Look, Uncle Jordan!” He tugged at the leash, pulling his new pet out behind him. “His name’s Rudy!”

The dog that crept out of the car was past the cute puppy stage and of no discernible breed. With a short brown-and-white coat, droopy ears and a long nose, it might have been some kind of hound mix. The size of its feet hinted that it still had a lot of growing to do.

Jordan groaned.

“Come here, Rudy!” Lucas ordered, tugging at the leash.

The dog glanced around shyly, then slunk over to its new master and wound its skinny body around Lucas’s legs. It had the saddest brown eyes Jordan had ever seen.

Jordan caught Angie’s gaze, his eyebrows lifting in an unspoken question.

“He was red-tagged,” Angie said. “They were going to put him to sleep. Lucas saved him. Just look at that face, Jordan. If ever an animal needed love...”

Jordan sighed. The dog was no beauty, but Angie’s expression was so damned appealing that he wanted to grab her in his arms and kiss her till she whimpered. That wasn’t practical, so he decided on the next best thing.

“We don’t know where all Rudy’s been,” he said to Lucas. “Before we give him the run of the place, what do you say we give him a bath? You can put him in the garage while I change my clothes and get a wash tub. You might want to change, too.”

Jordan hadn’t asked Angie to help bathe the dog, but when he came back out to the patio with the tin tub, a bar of soap and an old towel, she was there, wearing ragged jeans and pink rubber flip-flops. They filled the tub, adding some warm water from the kitchen. Then Angie and Lucas went to fetch the dog.

The back door to the garage opened off the patio. They returned moments later with Angie holding the leash. Rudy was clinging to his young master’s legs like a barnacle, terror flashing in the whites of his chocolate eyes. Damned dog probably thought he was about to be slaughtered.

Jordan reached out to lift the dog into the tub. Rudy cringed, whimpering. Maybe he’d had a man kick him around in his former life. He might be calmer with Angie or Lucas. But Jordan wasn’t about to risk their getting bitten.

“Come on, boy.” Jordan got a hand under the dog’s bony rump, scooped him up and lowered him into the tub. Rudy made no attempt to bite. But at the first touch of water, he thrashed like an eel and howled like an Irish banshee.

Swearing under his breath, Jordan shoved the mutt all the way into the tub. Rudy was putting up the fight of his life, yelping so piteously that Jordan half expected the Humane Society to come screaming up the drive.

“Let me help. You’d better stay back, Lucas.” Angie grabbed the soap and began sudsing the dog’s hide. It appeared that Rudy had never had a bath in his miserable life. He kicked and struggled, splashing soapy water in all directions. By now Jordan was wet from head to toe. Gazing at him over the squirming dog, Angie burst into giggles. Her laughter was pure enchantment, bubbling like music out of some secret place.

Justin had said he’d fallen in love the first time he heard Angie laugh.

Lucas began to giggle, too, the sound a childish echo of his mother’s. Ignoring her warning, the boy pushed between them. Now they were all getting soaked. Between the wriggling mutt, the splashing water and their wet clothes, the simple task of bathing a dog had become a circus. Something stirred in Jordan’s throat. Was it a chuckle? He gave in and let it go. It felt good. Damned good.

Still laughing, they managed to get Rudy rinsed and out of the tub. Lucas squealed with delight as Rudy shook water in all directions. Jordan tackled the mutt for a quick toweling. Then he put the dog in the garage with an old sleeping bag, some food and a bowl of water.

“Will Rudy be OK in there?” Lucas asked.

“He’ll be fine. We’ll find him his own doghouse tomorrow.” Jordan recalled that Sunny’s old kennel was somewhere in storage. He tossed spare towels to Lucas and Angie. “For now, what do you say we dry off and go inside for some grilled cheese sandwiches and hot cocoa?”

The idea hadn’t struck him until he spoke, but it seemed like a good one. Marta was off shopping, but he was a fair hand with grilled cheese himself.

By now the sun was low in the sky. A chilly autumn breeze drifted across the patio. Inside the house, Jordan lit the fireplace and moved the leather armchairs in close. Leaving Angie and Lucas to soak up the warmth, he headed into the kitchen.

He was slicing thin squares of cheese when he heard Angie’s voice behind him. “Can I help with something?”

“You can make the cocoa. Mix is in the cupboard. Milk’s in the fridge.” Jordan didn’t really need her help, but he liked the thought of her working next to him. Damned if he hadn’t enjoyed bathing the fool dog this afternoon. The gloomy old house hadn’t heard so much laughter in years.