Caitlan glanced doubtfully at the two lines of rope arching in a large loop, engineered by Laura's cousins. "Are you looking to lose?"
Laura laughed. "It's not that hard, really. It'll take you a few times to get the hang of it, but you'll have fun. Aunt Debbie loves to do this."
Caitlan shrugged, pulling off her beige boots and socks and tossing them aside. "I'm game."
J.T. wasn't sure if he should have been annoyed or relieved with Laura's interruption, then decided he'd just sit back and enjoy Caitlan from a safe distance, where touching her wouldn't be such a temptation.
Caitlan attempted to jump in cadence with the two ropes, but only succeeded in tangling up the line. Chuckling at her clumsiness, J.T. teased her, watching in delight as sparks of determination lit up her incredible eyes. After a few more botched attempts she finally got the rythym of the rope coordinated with the flow of her jumping and managed to execute the game beautifully, like a pro.
Caitlan shot him a triumphant look over her shoulder as she kept up the rhythm. J.T. grinned. Despite her accomplishment, he couldn't help but feel like the victor, because at his vantage point she presented him with a winning view.
Holding her skirt to her thighs, she clutched the material tightly in her fists so it wouldn't get tangled in the rope, giving him an unobstructed view of her endlessly long, shapely legs and bare feet. Ruffles from her slip spilled from beneath her skirt, a soft, feminine contrast that served to give her a countenance of childlike innocence. She even had cute knees, he mused, enjoying himself thoroughly.
She laughed breathlessly, tilting her head back as the sweet sound escaped her. The setting sun sparkled threads of gold off her dark bouncing hair and kissed her cheeks with a natural blush.
She looked wild and radiant. Incredibly beautiful. Vibrant and warm. The slow burn of desire for her ignited into a scorching flame of pure need.
Twilight settled in, bringing with it a slight evening chill. The group moved indoors for peach cobbler and to watch a Sunday evening program. J.T. deliberately kept his distance from Caitlan, not trusting himself to give in to the urge to touch her in ways that went beyond a friendly manner. However, sitting a couch away didn't stop him from watching her every move, listening to her every word. The wanting and hunger in him grew with each passing look between them.
At ten-thirty they said their good-byes and headed home. Except for Caitlan thanking him for a nice day, the short drive was made in silence.
Laura yawned as they walked in the front door. "I'm going to bed." She turned to J.T. and gave him a hug, then embraced Caitlan. "Good night, Dad, Caitlan."
"Good night, Smidget," J.T. replied.
"Sweet dreams," Caitlan added as Laura bounded up the stairs.
Caitlan was the type of woman who would say sweet dreams, J.T. thought with a smile. Gentle. Caring. She glanced up at him, her eyes luminous pools of violet that reached deep inside him and gripped him in unrelenting desire. He'd turned on the hallway light, and the soft glow illuminated the nervousness in her gaze now that they were totally alone. He found her anxiousness endearing.
She stepped back, her tongue running over her bottom lip. "I, uh, think I'll go to bed, too. I'm exhausted."
"Yeah, me too." Maybe a good night's rest would cool his attraction to her. Don't count on it, buddy. This ache isn't going to leave until she does.
That silent taunt rerouted his thoughts to his earlier conversation with Kirk. "Caitlan, there's something I'd like to ask you."
"Yes?" A curious expression etched her features.
He forced out the words before he had a chance to consider what he might be giving up. "Would you like me to take you to the airport so you can fly back to Chicago? It's about a three-hour drive from here."
Dismay flashed in her eyes. "Do you want me to leave?"
No. Glancing over her shoulder so she wouldn't see the truth in his eyes, he absently rubbed at the back of his neck. "I just don't want you to feel like you're stuck here. I know I should have asked you sooner, but, well, I guess I haven't been such a gracious host, have I?" His gaze slid back to hers, and he offered her an apologetic smile. "Anyway, the bridge should be repaired by the end of the week. You're welcome to stay until then, or if you'd like, I'll take you to the airport."
She didn't hesitate. "I'd really like to stay, if you don't mind. I'm having a nice time, and I'm not due back home for a while."
"No, I don't mind."
"Great." A smile touched the corner of her mouth as she backed away again to leave. "Good night, J.T."
" 'Night." He watched her climb the stairs, eyes riveted to the gentle sway of her hips. He wished he had the right to follow her up to her bedroom, or take her to his, and make love to her until the sun came up.
Frustrated with his sensual thoughts and his anatomy's natural response, he started up the stairs to his bedroom, knowing it was going to be a long tossing-and-turning kind of night.
Chapter Nine
Three hours later, hot, restless, and still aroused, J.T. lay in bed, cursing the woman down the hall for the sensual effect she had on him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so hungry for the feel of a woman pressed beneath him. Not just any woman, but Caitlan.
The sound of the guest bedroom's door creaking open broke the night's silence. J.T. listened, unmoving but alert. Recognizing Caitlan's tentative booted steps on the wooden floor, he frowned. Seconds later he heard the latch on the front door unlock, and the squeak of the hinges when she opened the door.
He bolted upright in bed. Where in the hell was she going at one-thirty in the morning? Damn!
Caitlan of all people should've known better than to roam around the ranch alone, especially at night, when an "accident" could easily befall her.
Fearful for her safety, J.T. threw the covers off his naked body and jumped out of bed. Hastily, he pulled on his jeans and donned the shirt he'd shucked only hours before. Within minutes he was dressed, boots on, and out the front door, his fear congealing into anger at her foolishness. The emotion ran parallel with the tense, aroused state of his body.
Caitlan wasn't on the porch, or anywhere around the close perimeter of the house, from what he could see. Pure instinct had him heading for the barn, the glow from the full moon guiding the way. The cold night air wrapped around him, yet the welcoming chill did nothing to temper the heated blood running through his veins. Only one woman had the cure for that.
She'd left the barn door open and he slipped in quietly. Her soft voice drifted to him. Was she with someone, he wondered, unable to stop thoughts of another woman's infidelity. He had no ties to Caitlan, but he found himself silently praying she was alone, that she wasn't out here to meet one of his men. Jealousy, an unfamiliar emotion, coiled tightly inside him.
Stopping in the shadows of the last stall, he saw her, standing by King's Ransom. Alone. She was talking to the stallion, sweet, encouraging words and praise. The tension cramping the muscles across his shoulders slackened, and he released a long, slow breath.
Curbing the impulse to make himself known and chastise Caitlan for going against his orders to stay away from King, he watched her cajole the animal into accepting whatever she extended in her hand through the slats. Sugar cubes, J.T. guessed, mesmerized by the gentle way the normally crazed stallion nuzzled the treat from her palm, then allowed her to stroke his nose before sidestepping away. How in the hell did she manage to calm the beast?
She laughed softly, the sound curling around J.T. like a narcotic. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it, King?" Pulling back her hand, she brushed her palm on her skirt. "You know I won't hurt you, don't you, boy?"
The horse gave a soft snort as his reply but didn't venture back to her.
The moonlight filtering into the barn from the loft window gave Caitlan an ethereal appearance, shimmering off her hair like a halo. Taking in the view of her profile, J.T. put to memory every delicate feature of her face. God, she was beautiful. Not in an elegant sense, but in a way that went deeper than the surface. Much, much deeper.