Texas Temptation (10 page)

But the nights. Damn, it was the nights that nearly did him in. He'd dream of those legs wrapped around him, her fingers splayed over his body, and he'd wake up in a sweat, his body tight with desire. It was all he could do not to drive into town and drag her back out here with him.

He looked down at her now, at her long lithe body folded neatly under the desk, and felt a strong urge to pull her onto his lap and kiss that soft honey-sweet mouth.

That was when he happened to look up and see Slater standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the doorjamb. The big man had a grin on his face that set Jared's teeth on edge.

“Hi, Jared. Who you talkin' to?”

Jared groaned silently, wondering not only how much Slater had heard, but realizing how
strange
the situation looked at the moment.

“Oh, my God!” Annie squeaked. “Please tell me that wasn't Slater I just heard.”

“Oh, hi, Bailey,” Slater piped up. “I didn't see you down there.”

Exasperated, Annie shoved Jared, sending the desk chair careering backward. She unfolded herself from beneath the desk and stood, her hands on her hips, as she glared first at Jared, then at Slater.

“I lost my pencil,” she said to Slater, daring him to dispute it.

He gestured innocently, but said nothing.
For once, a wise man,
Annie thought irritably.
Unlike some men.

“And you, Jared Stone—” her voice lowered fiercely “—
if
I have something to tell you, I'll tell you
when
I'm ready. In the meantime, stop watching me like I'm some kind of a goldfish in a bowl.”

Jared started to say something, then slammed his mouth shut and looked at Slater, who was grinning at Annie.

“Was there something you wanted?” Jared growled at his foreman.

“Oh, yeah.” Slater turned his attention to Jared. “Pipes twisted off again. Glenn's going to refit, but we'll have to shut down while we do.”

“That's the second time this week!” Jared jumped out of the chair and sent it toppling over. He stormed out of the office, spewing expletives.

Annie shook her head and frowned. “Charming.”

Slater laughed and moved into the office. He picked up the chair and gestured for Annie to sit.

“There've been a lot of problems,” she said as she lowered herself into the chair.

With a shrug, Slater sat on the edge of the desk. “Nothing we can't handle.”

“I sure hope you're right.” She twisted her neck to loosen the knot forming between her shoulders.

“They giving you a lot of heat from the top?”

“No.”

He narrowed his eyes as he leaned back and studied her. “Have you told them?”

How could one man be so intuitive and another—she stared out the office window—so dense? “I will.”

“I see.” He glanced down at the maps and logs on her desk. “How you coming with that?”

She stared at the paperwork and slowly shook her head. “I've remapped everything Jonathan worked up. He's right on, yet still, I have the feeling that something is missing.”

“You have all the seismics and logs?”

“Everything that Jonathan had. It's almost as if...”

She hesitated, unsure of what she wanted to say. She lifted her gaze to Slater's.

“As if he wasn't done?” Slater said.

“Yes.” She nodded thoughtfully. “As if he wasn't done.”

Slater reached over and took Annie's hand in his. His palms were rough and callused, but she was surprised how gentle the big man's touch was.

“He left a lot of things unfinished,” Slater said. “You were one of them.”

A familiar ache tightened her stomach. “We aren't talking about me.”

He shrugged. “You're just part of it, Bailey. A lot of things were left unsettled when Jonathan died.”

That was what Jared was, she realized. Unsettled. He'd lost a brother and his dream at the same time, then separated himself from his family when he'd gone to South America.

“What about you, Slater? You were Jonathan's friend. You didn't come to the funeral.”

His fingers tightened on her hand, then he let go and sat back with a sigh. “We said our goodbyes.”

She stared at him curiously, wondering what he meant by that. The sound of Jared yelling at one of the crew distracted her. Jared hadn't said goodbye, she realized. Not to Jonathan, or his father. No matter how angry he'd been with J.T., Annie knew that Jared had loved him.

“Slater,” she said, “do you think Jared's father was wrong to shut the rig down after Jonathan died?”

“I've never been one to judge another man's actions, Bailey. J.T. took Jonathan's death hard, and he decided he'd rather have an angry son, than another dead one. Jared wasn't thinking too clearly himself. He said some things that were better left unsaid.”

“And then he went to Venezuela.”

“He joined a company that had a reputation for taking on the jobs that no one else would. Dangerous jobs. It was more like he'd joined a war. I went down there for a while just to keep an eye on him. He came back to the States a few months after I did.”

“When J.T. died,” she said quietly.

Slater nodded. “Everyone thought J.T. would outlive us all. It was one more crate added to that load Jared's carrying on those shoulders of his.”

“His father loved him,” Annie said. “I only met the man once, but it was obvious how proud J.T. was of all his children.”

“That he was,” Slater agreed.

And he had good reason to be, Annie thought. The Stone siblings were strong, independent, hardworking people who loved deeply. She was going to miss them.

One of them in particular.

“Excuse me.”

Both Slater and Annie turned. Glenn Woods stood in the doorway.

“Do you have any aspirin?” he asked.

“Is that flu still bothering you?” Annie asked, reaching into the top desk drawer.

He shook his head. “No, I'm fine. Just a headache.”

Slater frowned at the young man. “My head would hurt, too, if I'd lost my paycheck in a card game last night.”

Glenn shrugged sheepishly and moved into the office. “Just a friendly game with some boys in town. I'll win it back.”

“You'd be way ahead if you didn't try,” Slater warned, but Annie sensed that the advice was falling on deaf ears.

She pulled the cap off the small plastic bottle in her hand and tipped it sideways, preparing to count out two tablets.

What she wasn't prepared for was the sudden explosion that threw her to the floor.

T
he trailer shook from the force of the blast. A framed map flew off the wall, shattering on the floor. Annie felt two strong arms reach under her and lift her as if she were no more than a feather.

“You okay?” Slater asked.

When she nodded yes, he deposited her in the desk chair, then turned and ran out of the trailer, yelling before his boots even hit the dirt. Glenn shot a worried look at her, then followed Slater. She rose on shaking knees to follow them, but fell back when the room began to spin. She touched her fingers to her temple and felt the wetness there. Stunned, she pulled her hand away and stared at the blood on her fingers.

What the hell had happened?

The shouts of the men outside drew her out of her daze.

Jared.

Adrenaline shot through her. Her heart hammered in her chest as she flew from her chair and tore out of the office. The smell of burned oil hung in the air, and the crew scrambled around, two of them working the fire hose while two others struggled with a wrench to shut off the pipe leading from the compressor—or at least what
had
been the compressor. The tank had ruptured, and there was a gaping hole in its side. Pieces of metal and air hose littered the ground.

Jared. Where's Jared?

Frantically she searched for him, but all she saw was Slater, who was kneeling on the ground behind the compressor. Two other men were beside him, bent over and staring down.

Jared.

“Oh, God, no.
No!
”

It was a dream, a horrible nightmare. She ran toward him, and it seemed as if she moved in slow motion. Slater was directing a man to get some cold water and a towel as she dropped down beside Jared. He was lying on the ground. Blood and dirt streaked his face and neck, and on his forehead was an angry gash.

“Jared,” she called to him, leaning close. Her hand shook as she touched his arm.

He was so still. She swallowed the sob in her throat and ran her hand over his chest. “Jared!”

He stirred then, and his eyes slowly opened. Relief washed through her and she touched his cheek, calling his name again. He blinked several times, then tried to raise himself.

Slater eased him back down. “Whoa, there, buddy. You just lie still.”

Annie took the water and towel handed her, then gently washed Jared's face.

He winced when he lifted his arm and touched his forehead. “What the...?”

“The compressor decided to play slam ball with your head,” Slater said. “Fortunately for you, you've got a hard one.”

Slater was smiling, but Annie saw the fear in the big man's eyes. This had been close. Way too close. She looked up at Glenn, who was standing next to her, his face white. “Glenn, bring my car. We've got to get him to the doctor in town.”

“I'm fine.” Jared tried to raise himself up on one elbow again, but fell back. “I don't need—”

“Not one word, Jared Stone,” Annie threatened. “You're going if I have to hog-tie you. And in your condition, I'd like to see you stop me.”

“And me,” Slater added.

Jared frowned at the pair of them, then sucked in a sharp breath as he struggled to sit. “I go on one condition,” he said haltingly. “Slater stays here...gets the backup compressor hooked up while the crew finishes repairing the twisted pipe.”

“Jared, for God's sake...” Annie started to argue.

He reached out and took hold of her arm. Even in his weakened condition the fingers that curled around her arm were strong.

“I mean it, Annie,” he said hoarsely. “You can take me, but everyone else keeps working.”

Determination glinted through the pain in his eyes. Frustrated, Annie looked at Slater. He nodded reluctantly.

“I'll go get a blanket,” the foreman said grimly. “We can lower the back seat of your Cherokee and lay him out.”

When Slater left, Jared drew Annie close to him. “You're bleeding.” He reached up to touch her forehead.

“It's nothing.” She brushed his hand away and touched the damp cloth to his neck. “I just bumped my head. I don't want you to think about me.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then his eyelids grew heavy and he leaned against her. “I always think about you, Annie,” he said weakly. “Always.”

He slumped against her then and his eyes drifted closed while he was still murmuring her name.

* * *

It was dark when he opened his eyes. His head hurt like hell, and his shoulder felt as if he'd been kicked by a mule. He thought for a moment he must have really tied one on, but then the events of the previous afternoon—the explosion followed by the trip to the doctor—came crashing back, and all he could do was groan.

He was in his bed, dressed in a pair of sweatpants. He sat up slowly, then waited until the throbbing in his head eased. The ticking of the clock on the bedside table was like the drumming of a rock band. He squinted, trying to focus on the lighted dial, but the numbers blurred together.

Damn.
He knew he'd gotten off easy, especially considering how close he'd been standing to the compressor when it had let loose. If the piece of metal that had sliced into his back had been ten inches higher, he probably wouldn't be sitting here at all. The doctor had told him that he should consider himself lucky that all he had was a few stitches in his shoulder and a mild concussion.

Lucky.
Yeah. Right.

Dragging a hand through his hair, he blinked several times and stared at the clock again. It was two-thirty in the morning and he was wide awake. He thought seriously about going to the rig, but Annie, he knew, was asleep on the couch, and she'd already threatened to shut the rig down if he stepped one foot out of bed. She not only
could
do it, he knew she
would.
He recognized that determined set to her shoulders and chin only too well.

He was stuck here for the next two days, as per doctor's orders. Like a prisoner. And between Annie and Slater, there was no hope for a reprieve. All he could do was wait.

The damn ticking of the clock pounded away at his patience like a hammer. He felt like murdering something, so it might as well be a clock, he decided irritably. He reached for the offending timepiece, then hurled it across the room.

The reward for his foolishness was a sharp stab of pain in his shoulder. He held his breath, then slowly let it out.

The clock kept ticking.

What the hell was he supposed to do at this hour of the night? He was going to go crazy if he had to just sit here.

He thought of Annie, asleep in the other room, and he couldn't help but smile. She'd driven like a bat out of hell to get him to the doctor's office yesterday afternoon, then acted like a mother tiger with a wounded cub when she checked him in, harassing the nurse when she didn't move fast enough and pestering the doctor with a hundred questions. If Jared hadn't been in so much pain at the time, he might have been amused.

Annie Bailey was a determined woman, he thought now with a sigh. A determined beautiful sexy woman. Not a minute had gone by since they'd made love that he hadn't wanted her again, in his arms, in his bed. The only thing that had eased the tension was work.

And now he didn't even have that.

He gripped the sheet in his fist, and despite the feeling that a truck had run over him, he felt desire rise in him. He needed to touch her, have her body against his, her—

“Jared?”

Her whisper startled him. He hadn't heard her come into the room. It was nearly pitch-black, so he couldn't even see her.

He didn't answer her, just twisted the sheet in his hand and ground his teeth, hoping she wouldn't see he was awake.

She moved into the room. “Jared, are you all right?”

He still didn't answer her. When the mattress dipped beside him, he stifled a groan. He felt as if the door on his cell had just closed. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to run. She was too close. Too damn close.

“I just knocked the clock over. Go back to bed.”

“Are you in pain?”

Pain? He almost laughed at the thought. If he was in ten times the physical pain, it would be nothing compared to the pain of wanting this woman and knowing he could never have her.

She reached across him to turn on the light, but he stopped her. If she saw him, she'd know how much he wanted her. He couldn't bear that. “I'm fine, Annie.”

“I'm supposed to check on you,” she said softly. “Because of the concussion.”

“I'm still breathing.”

“Do you want a pain pill? It's been a few hours and—”

“
No.
I don't want anything.
Just go.
”

She was quiet for a moment; the only sound was that damn clock. He hadn't wanted to be so terse, but he was in a corner.
Annie, go...please...just go...

He felt the mattress shift and thought she was leaving. He groaned when she moved closer to him.

“I can't,” she said, and he heard the misery in her voice.

“Oh, God, Annie...”

He closed his eyes and turned away from her, but he could still smell the scent of his soap drifting from her skin. She'd showered earlier and he'd never wanted to be a bar of soap so badly in his life. But it was
her
scent that closed around him and drew him back like silken fingers. Her own soft feminine scent that made him want to wrap his body around hers and never let go.

“When I saw you earlier lying on the ground, I thought that you were...that you...”

Her voice broke. With a murmured curse, he turned back around and gathered her close. “Annie, I'm fine,” he said gently. “I really am. It would take a hell of a lot more than a little flying metal to do me in.”

She'd been an idiot to come in here like this, Annie told herself. He was going to be all right, the doctor had assured her repeatedly. But she couldn't erase from her mind that horrible image of him lying on the ground, and the terror she'd felt when she thought he might have been dead. She turned her cheek to his chest, wanting to hear the beating of his heart.

“How's your head?” he asked, combing the hair away from her face.

The tender stroking of his fingers on her face relaxed her, and the heat of his bare chest warmed her through her thin cotton robe. “I told you, it's just a scratch.”

“So you did.”

Her heart skipped when his lips brushed the top of her head. His hand slid caressingly over her arm, and the sensation sent ripples of liquid heat coursing through her. “Jared, I didn't come in here to... I mean, I didn't expect or want you to...”

“To what?” He touched his lips to her temple.

She lifted her head. It was too dark to see his face, but she smelled the musky scent of his skin and the faint aroma of antiseptic.

“I wanted to be next to you, to know that you're all right.” Her fingers tightened on his arm. “Jared,” she said raggedly, “you...you could have died.”

Jared felt Annie tremble in his arms, and he cursed himself for wanting her as he did right now. He'd been so wrapped up in feeling sorry for himself that he couldn't be at the rig he'd nearly forgotten what
she
must have gone through. All the old feelings for Jonathan that must have resurfaced.

An ache spread through him that had nothing to do with his injuries. It might be the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life, but he could do this for her. For Jonathan.

He laid back on the bed and pulled her with him. “I didn't die, Annie. I'm here and I'm fine. Just lie here with me.”

“No.” She started to pull away. “You're hurt, and I can't—”

“No, I don't mean that.” He tugged her gently back. “We both need to sleep, and I don't feel right knowing you're on the couch.”

“I don't mind,” she protested, and tried to rise again.

“I mind.” He wrapped an arm around her and brought her flush against him, her back to his chest. She drew in a sharp breath at the feel of his arousal against her buttocks.

He sighed heavily. “Look, Annie, I'm not going to lie and tell you I don't want to make love to you. It's pretty damn obvious I do. But I'm not going to do anything about it. I want you here. With me. Just for tonight.”

Annie desperately wanted to turn in Jared's arms and touch him, reassure herself that he was fine, that he was alive. But if she did, it would be like lighting a match to dry kindling. They were both aroused, not only from the closeness, but from the tension they'd been holding in. Her body screamed for release.

But she couldn't. She couldn't make love with Jared knowing that he thought of it as “just for tonight.” She'd been through that once already.

She let herself relax against him, almost smiling at the thought that they were actually going to
sleep
together. He seemed to relax, too, and lightly pressed his lips to the back of her head.

“Get some sleep, Annie.”

His arm tightened around her, pulling her closer still, fitting their bodies like two pieces of a puzzle. She let her eyes drift closed, refusing to think about how close she'd come to losing him. He
was
still here, she thought. His strong muscular body pressed against hers was proof of that.

And her last thought, before exhaustion finally won over, was how much she loved the man who was holding her.

* * *

“Dammit, Jared, why the hell didn't you call me yesterday when this happened?”

Annie watched as Jake, his hands on his hips, stood glaring down at his brother stretched out on the couch.

“It wasn't—”

“I told him to.” Annie interjected. She was standing beside Jake, her arms crossed. “He said there was no reason to bother you.”

“Bother me! Bother your own brother? I have to hear this from Tom at the feed store while I'm picking up a load of grain this morning?” Jake threw his arms out in disgust. “And just wait until Jessica gets the message I left on her machine. She'll give you a shiner to match the one you've already got.”