“I think this year it was a team effort.”
“They did good.” She smiled.
“Would you like a fire?”
She shook her head, “That’s okay. It’s too much trouble to go to for just one night.”
“It’s not a problem.”
Sophie longingly glanced over at the large stone fireplace. It reminded her of her home back in Indiana. She’d spent a good part of her early years in front of a warming fire. The longing must have shown on her face.
“The wood is already chopped and corded right outside. It’s no problem. A fire sounds good. Make yourself at home.”
Clay stopped with his hand on the doorknob. From the soft glow coming from the kitchen area, she watched his eyes as he scanned her face, his expression a mixture of concern and complacency and something else she couldn’t quite put a finger on. They were large, intelligent eyes, the color of the dark moss that grew on the rocks and seriously intense. His lips were full and sensuous. Her breathing all but stopped. Then he pulled open the door. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes. The bathroom is there.” He indicated the door behind the sofa. “There are fresh towels and soap. Use whatever you need.”
She glanced in the direction he’d indicated and nodded.
Although sparse, the room was decorated in a theme that complemented the terrain surrounding the cabin. She walked to the bathroom and was surprised by the size. It was a large space with both a deep tub and a shower. It didn’t take her long to draw hot water into the tub. Soon she’d removed her clothes and stepped into the deep, warm water. Looking up, she saw they had a skylight. This would be a remarkable cabin when it was finished. With a sigh she opened a bottle of the sage-scented shampoo she’d found in a cabinet next to the sink and lost herself in the comforting warmth of the bath.
She had expected Clay to tap on the bathroom door after finding some reason to come inside. She was ready for him. She had her no practiced and on the tip of her tongue. But there was no knock, only the sound of owls calling to each other outside the cabin.
True to his word, Clay had converted the sofa into a bed with extra blankets and pillows when she finally did step out of the bathroom. The kindling in place, all it took was one flick of the lighter and soon a small fire was blazing in the fireplace, its flames sending warmth into the room. As it snapped and crackled in the hearth, Sophie was drawn to it like a moth to a light. There was just something about a warm fire and the smell of burning wood she had always loved. Wrapped in a fluffy white bathrobe, she sat down and ran a brush through her hair, stroke after stroke. It wouldn’t take long to dry in front of the fireplace.
* * *
Clay opened the door and walked inside with one more stack of wood. After dropping the logs near the hearth, he stopped and watched her hair-drying process. He had the urge to kiss her, to feel those sumptuous lips against his just once more. He knew that would be a mistake. She’d been through a lot today. She was tired and more than likely sex was the furthest thing from her mind. He needed to give her the respect she was due and remember she was here to see the cattle drive. She needed to feel safe without any fear of him jumping her bones.
But damn. She’d felt so right in his arms. And in such close proximity, without any substantial clothing to shield her from his touch, he’d been painfully aware of each and every curve of her body. Of the smooth softness of her skin and the silkiness of her hair. Even after the day she’d had, she smelled good, like an herb garden with some dandelions thrown in for good measure. He didn’t want or need any personal relationships to complicate a life that had already gone off the deep end thanks to a bull and some degenerate determined to bring Everest down. All the more reason to get her back to where she needed to be as soon as possible. Keep the perspective, he thought. It was only one night.
Holy mother of God. He was in for a long night.
* * *
“If this sofa is your only bed, then you sleep here. I’ll take the floor.” It was the least she could do.
“You’re fine.”
“But I don’t want to take your bed.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied as he stretched out on the blanket. “Of course, we could always share. Then both of us would be warm and comfy.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said as she reached over and turned off the small lamp next to the sofa.
Sophie lay down, surprised the bed was as soft and comfortable as it was. She adjusted the pillow and pulled the c
overs over her. Staring at the ceiling, she watched the shadows created by the flames as they danced over the burning logs. The fire gave out so much warmth, soon she felt too warm. She kicked her way out from under the cover, but the room still felt hot. Water. She needed a drink of cool water. She pushed to her feet, stepped over his legs and entered the kitchen. After opening and closing several cabinets, she finally located the glasses. Next she moved to the sink, ran some water then filled the glass.
“Is there a problem?” he called from the other room.
“Just getting a glass of water,” she answered. “Do you want some?”
“No, thanks.”
“It’s good. Sometimes water from a well tastes...coppery. Bitter. But this is really good.”
“I am so glad you like it.”
Was that a sarcastic remark? It was hard to judge because she really didn’t know his current mood. The day’s outing could have hurt his bad leg. Deciding to let it drop, she finished drinking the water then turned on the tap and rinsed her glass before returning it to the cabinet. Once she’d stepped back over his feet, she returned to the couch and laid down.