She picked up another piece of corn bread. Risking heartbreak was the kind of chance people had to take if they wanted to experience something besides lukewarm sex. Until meeting Drake, she’d wondered if lukewarm was all she was destined to feel.

  He’d corrected that misunderstanding. Had he ever. But when given an opportunity to prove that she, too, could have a grand passion, she’d been afraid to let herself go. She was still afraid, but no longer quite so terrified as she had been after the holding-out-her-chair incident. She was nervously ready to suit up and get into the game.

  First she needed to check on something, though. She’d already raided Regan’s toiletries once, so maybe taking one other item wouldn’t hurt. And she’d replace everything, of course. No doubt he’d taken a box to D.C., but Drake said Regan liked backup supplies, so logically another box should be tucked away somewhere.

  She found the item in question under the sink. After opening the box, she carried it to the guest room and set it on the nightstand next to the queen-size bed. Looking at that bed and imagining what might take place there later gave her goose bumps. But she also had to be prepared for rejection. Drake had a perfect right to turn her down.

  Back in the dining room, she wolfed down her soup, which was almost cool, before dumping Drake’s soup back in the pot and turning it on low. Then she wrapped the remaining corn bread in foil and put it in the oven on warm.

  The clock was ticking. He must be wondering when he’d get to eat, but she had more to do before texting him. She located a pen, paper and an envelope and brought them to the table. The note took her longer than she would have liked, but it had to set the tone. Licking the envelope was the worst part of the job. So far no one had come up with envelope-flap glue that didn’t taste like motor oil laced with menthol.

  She wrote his name on the outside of the envelope and propped it against his water glass. After dishing his soup, she put the corn bread back on the table and ducked into her bedroom. Finally she emerged in her red silk bathrobe with her hair loose, and texted him that she was finished eating.

  Time to disappear. She made a beeline for the guest room, barely making it before she heard his booted footsteps on the wooden porch. The screen door creaked open. He must have been hungry.

  She lay in his bed in the dark, because dark was how he’d left the room. A light on in there might have alerted him to a change in the situation. Sound carried perfectly in the still house, which allowed her to hear the chair scrape as he sat down at the table.

  She held her breath. Paper ripped. He was reading her note, which she remembered in vivid detail.

  Dear Drake,

  My reaction to you was motivated by fear. I was taught from an early age not to trust men who made me feel as you do, because they would ruin my life. So I’ve dated only safe guys who didn’t arouse scary emotions. I realize now that’s a cowardly way to live.

  I haven’t treated you well. I’d like a chance to do better, but if you still want to keep distance between us, I understand completely. Please let me know if Dottie goes into labor. Sleep well.

  Yours, Tracy

  How she would have loved to watch his expression as he’d read the note, but short of setting up a remote video feed, that would have been impossible. Thinking of the elaborate spy system she would have set up if she’d had time, she started to giggle and had to use a pillow to muffle the sound.

  By the time she settled down again, she could hear the rhythmic sound of his spoon dipping in and out of his soup bowl. That noise stopped and paper crinkled, as if he’d wadded up the note. Then it crinkled again, as if he might be smoothing it out. He sighed.

  She’d wanted to give him time to think, time when she wasn’t around, just as she’d had when he’d left for the barn. What if he decided she wasn’t worth the trouble? Finding her in his bed would not be a pleasant surprise then, would it? He might order her out of his room. At least she’d brought the robe to put on in case that happened.

  No matter where she was now or what his decision might be, they couldn’t have avoided an awkward moment whenever they’d come face-to-face again. So she’d chosen to create a meeting that was shocking and quick. It might be painful, like ripping off a bandage, or bracing, like cannonballing into a cold swimming hole. Either way, it wouldn’t be boring.

  If he sent her away, that would be a reasonable payback for how she’d treated him. But because he was seeking forgiveness, she hoped he’d be in a forgiving mood, too. She’d know soon enough. She could hear him loading the dishwasher.

  He took some time in the kitchen, which probably meant he was putting away the leftovers and wiping down the counters, exactly as she would have done. And all the while he had to be thinking.

  When he left the kitchen, she expected to hear steps coming down the hall toward where she lay trembling, torn between excitement and anxiety. That didn’t happen. He walked somewhere else, and she wasn’t sure where until the screen door squeaked again. The ornery man was going back down to the barn!

  She groaned in frustration. For all she knew he’d sleep down there. It was a warm night. There were saddle blankets he could use if necessary. Because he was an equine vet, he’d probably spent his share of nights in a barn.

  After waiting another few minutes to see if he’d come back, she realized her plan wasn’t going to work the way she’d envisioned it. So she’d have to come up with a new plan. He’d had his thinking time, and now it was action time. She could still take him by surprise.

  A few minutes later she headed out to the barn wearing her red silk robe and her boots. She had a condom tucked in her pocket and a blanket in her arms. If he told her to leave, she’d give him the blanket so he could be more comfortable in his self-imposed exile.

  The crescent moon didn’t give her much light, but the barn doors were open and the glow from the floor lights saved her from tripping. She’d hate to fall and rip her bathrobe, which had set her back a tidy sum when she’d bought it at a trendy lingerie shop in Jackson.

  The robe should have signaled to her that she was ready for a change of attitude. She’d bought it a few months ago when she couldn’t stand her old, ratty terry-cloth robe for another second. She’d meant to get a snuggly fake fur to keep her warm on cold winter nights, and instead she’d walked out of the store with this. It made her think of forbidden fantasies, and here she was, walking toward a barn that contained a man who knew all about those.

  The closer she got to the open door, the faster her heart raced. She had never propositioned a man. She wasn’t even sure if she could carry it off, but she’d walked all the way down here in semidarkness without tripping. Maybe a little adventure suited her, after all.

  She ran through some potential greetings. What’s a cowboy like you doing in a barn like this? I’m researching the effects of a roll in the hay. Wanna help? Thought I’d save a horse and ride a cowboy tonight. The last one was far too specific. She was becoming braver, but not that brave.

  As she approached the door, she saw Drake walking down the barn aisle toward her. His face was in shadow. “I thought I heard someone out there.”

  “Just me.” Faced with the actual Drake Brewster coming toward her, she forgot all the suggestive things she’d meant to say. Instead she totally wimped out. “I brought you a blanket.” Worse yet, she held it in front of her like a shield. “How’s Dottie?”

  “No change.” He stopped about five feet away from her. “Interesting outfit.”

  “Yes, well...I was in bed, and I heard you go outside again, so I figured you’d decided to sleep in the barn. And you might need a blanket.” Wow, was she a temptress or what? Seduction City.

  “Thoughtful of you.”

  “Are you planning to sleep in the barn?”

  “Not really. I just decided to do one last check before going to bed. But I appreciate the effort.”

  “Oh.” Shitfire! She could have stayed in his bed and everything would have gone as planned. Instead she was out here wearing boots and a bathrobe with a condom in her pocket. If they walked back to the house together, which now seemed likely, he’d go into his room and discover someone had been sleeping in his bed, and it sure as hell hadn’t been Goldilocks.

  “Did you want me to sleep in the barn?”

  “Of course not, especially if there’s no change with Dottie. That would be silly.”

  His gaze traveled over her. “Tracy, what’s going on? Why are you out here wearing a red silk bathrobe?”

  “How do you know it’s silk?” As if that mattered, but she was surprised he’d guessed correctly.

  “Silk has a distinctive way of draping a woman’s body, especially when she’s naked under it.”

  “You don’t know that I’m naked!”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Her cheeks grew hot. “Okay, so I’m naked. So I have a condom in my pocket and I came down here to seduce you. So what?”

  “Oh, my God.” He started to laugh but clapped a hand over his mouth immediately. Then he scrubbed that same hand over his face and cleared his throat. “Sorry, sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I promise.”

  “You are so laughing at me! You think I’m ridiculous. Which I am.” She couldn’t decide whether to run or stand her ground.

  “You most certainly are not ridiculous. You’re adorable. And sexy. And...could I please have that blanket?”

  “Why?” She eyed him suspiciously.

  “Because it’s blocking my view.”

  That sounded promising, although she certainly couldn’t claim to have engineered this seduction. If she had any talent for it, she’d have dropped the blanket a long time ago and slowly opened her robe.

  He came closer and held out his hand. “Let me have it, please.”

  She released her death grip on the blanket. He took it from her and hung it over the nearest stall door. Meanwhile she could have started her vamp routine, but no, she just stood there waiting for him to make the next move.

  He turned back to her. “That’s much better. Now you can proceed.”

  “To do what?”

  “Seduce me.”

  She gulped.

  “It won’t be tough to do. Imagining you naked under that silk, especially while you’re wearing boots, is almost enough by itself.”

  “You’re still laughing at me.”

  “Oh, no, I’m not, sweetheart. I’m putty in your hands. Whether you realize it or not, you have all the power. Own it.”

  7

  DRAKE THOUGHT BRIEFLY of the assurances he’d given Josie Chance. But circumstances had changed. Tracy was outgrowing her fears, and he was the lucky bastard who got to be here now that she’d decided to spread her wings.

  Or, more accurately, spread the lapels of her red silk robe. Fingers trembling, she untied the sash. Then slowly, ever so slowly, she opened the curtains on a show he would never forget if he lived to be a hundred.

  His breath caught as the supple material slid away to reveal her creamy skin, inch by delicious inch. He glimpsed the inner swell of each breast, the valley between her ribs, the tempting indentation of her navel and the V of dark curls between her smooth thighs.

  He dared not blink and miss a single moment. She was doing this for him, the man she’d been afraid to trust. And now she was ready to give him...everything. She parted the robe a little more, and her nipples emerged, rosy and tight.

  They quivered as she drew in a shaky breath. “Say something.”

  He wasn’t sure his vocal cords would work. “I’m...speechless.” Sure enough, he sounded like a horny bullfrog. Felt like one, too. His cock pressed painfully against the ridge of his fly.

  “Short but sweet.” She swallowed. “I’ll take it.”

  “Mmm.” He’d always been proud of his gift of gab, for having a clever remark in any situation. Not this time. She was beautiful, but he’d been with beautiful women before. Although she’d dazzled him with her body, she’d blown him away with her bravery.

  He couldn’t imagine the raw courage she’d summoned to come down here wearing nothing but a silk robe and boots. Seeing any woman like that would have turned him on. Being confronted with Tracy in that getup was so unexpected that he clenched his fists against the urge to take her now.

  But this was her show. That was the whole point, to let her test the limits of her sexuality. He wouldn’t rob her of that. So he stood there as his slight tremors betrayed the strain of holding back.

  Her gaze traveled over him and lingered on his crotch. When she lifted her head and looked into his eyes, her sultry smile was triumphant. “Parts of you are shouting.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He desperately wished she’d drop the robe and come closer, but if she wanted to draw out the torture, then somehow he’d keep from going crazy.

  She reached into her pocket for the condom and held it out. “Mind this for me, okay?”

  “How long?” It wasn’t an idle question.

  Her voice was as silky as her robe. “We’ll see.”

  He might’ve groaned then. His brain was feeling fuzzy, and he couldn’t be sure what he was doing anymore. He ached as he’d never ached, wondering if she had any idea what it cost him to take the foil packet from her outstretched hand without grabbing her and yanking her into his arms. As she tested her limits, she was sure as hell testing his. He’d never wanted a woman this much without acting on it.

  “This is way more fun than I thought it would be.” She allowed the robe to slither over her shoulders and drop to the floor of the barn. Then she braced her booted feet slightly apart, placed her hands on her rounded hips and sent him a challenging glance.

  “Oh, yeah.” He drank in the sight of her looking so strong, so proud. Her skin flushed and her nipples tightened as his gaze moved slowly from the fire in her eyes to her quivering breasts, down to her narrow waist and the womanly flare of her hips. When his attention traveled lower to the juncture of her thighs, heat shot through him at the glisten of moisture there. He wasn’t the only one burning with anticipation.

  She lifted one hand and crooked her finger. “Slowly.”

  He nodded, although slow didn’t describe the way blood pounded through his veins or excitement zinged along every nerve in his body.

  “Arms at your sides.”

  When he opened his mouth to protest, she shook her head. “I’m owning it, Drake.”

  So she was. He approached with his arms hanging at his sides as she’d instructed.

  She held up one hand, palm facing him, like a traffic cop. “Close enough. I’ll take it from here. Just...stand there.”

  He hoped he’d be able to obey that command as she stepped closer, her spicy perfume blending with the scent of aroused woman. At last she touched him, flattening her hands against his shirt, standing on tiptoe, and pressing her plump lips to his. Her mouth was open, her breath sweet and warm, her tongue... Oh, God, her tongue began to tease him, and his arms automatically went around her. It was pure reflex.

  She pushed away from him, stepping out of his arms. “No.” She sounded breathless. “Just kiss me. That’s all.”

  Judging from her rapid breathing, he thought she might be losing a little of her iron control, but he nodded again and let his arms go limp. One part of him was the complete opposite of limp, though, and if she didn’t do something about that soon, he couldn’t be responsible for the consequences. She might hold all the cards, but he held the condom.

  When she started kissing him again, he gripped the condom so tight the foil edge bit into his fingers. He was only vaguely aware of that, because he was too busy exploring the wonders of her mouth with his tongue, the only part of him she allowed free rein. She sighed and tilted her head, allowing him greater access. Then she moaned a little, and he knew they were making progress toward the goal.

  Gently she unfastened his shirt. She made maddeningly slow progress. By the time she pulled it out of his waistband and massaged his bare chest, he was slippery with sweat. She moaned again and dug her fingertips into his pecs. If she didn’t undo his jeans soon, he’d have to do it. A man could take only so much.

  She was breathing hard, too, and glory be, she unhooked his belt and went to work on his jeans. Fortunately she didn’t linger. When she slipped both hands under the waistband of his briefs and cupped him, he had to stop kissing her for fear he’d bite her tongue. It was that intense.

  “Tracy, I need you.” He could barely get the words out as he gulped for air. Her hands were stroking, massaging, creating pure havoc.

  She wasn’t in much better shape. “Okay.” Panting, she shoved his briefs down and stepped back. “Put it on. Oh, Lordy, you are something to look at, Drake Brewster.”

  He’d been told that he was well endowed before, but he’d never been happier for the praise than now. He needed to please this woman as he’d never needed to please anyone before. She would remember tonight for the rest of her life, and he wanted her to remember that it was oh, so good.

  He rolled on the condom. “What’s the plan?”

  “I didn’t...get that far in my thinking.”

  If he’d had the breath to spare, he would have laughed. She’d managed this seduction all the way up to the critical part, but now she was out of ideas. He wasn’t, though. He grabbed the blanket where he’d hung it on the stall door and tossed it on a nearby hay bale. “Sit there.”

  She did. Still wearing his jeans, sort of, he dropped to his knees in front of her. “Scoot forward. Good. Can I touch you now?”

  “Oh, yes. Yes, please.”

  “Excellent.” He filled both hands with her smooth, hot bottom. “Lean back and brace yourself on your arms.”

  The motion lifted her breasts, and he was so tempted to nuzzle, to taste. But he had other things to do, very important things that involved making her come. Looking into her eyes, he nudged her thighs a little wider with his hips. “You surely did seduce me, lady.”

  Her eyes glowed with excitement. “I did, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, sweetheart, and this is what happens when you successfully seduce a man.” Tightening his grip on her fanny, he probed her heat with his cock. She was so slick, he groaned. “Ready?”