Page 37 of Pure Temptation in Cowboy Boots

His mother gazed at him, a speculative light in her blue eyes. “You’re upset that she’s leaving town, aren’t you?”

“Not really. I’m happy for her: It’s what she’s always wanted.”

“I know, and of course we’re all happy for her, but you’re agitated about it. I could tell by the expression on your face just now. Your color was high. I think you’re upset because she’s going off and leaving you.”

“I absolutely am not.” Mac set down the suitcases, walked over and took his mother by the shoulders. “That imagination of yours is working overtime.” Then he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and noticed the tiredness around her eyes. Three days of being constantly on the go had taken its toll on both her and his father. He couldn’t ignore the fact that they were both nearly seventy. “I think I’ll ride out and check the stock tank Dad’s worried about,” he said.

“Wasn’t he going to do that after we got unpacked?”

“Yeah, but why don’t you two take the afternoon off? You both got a lot accomplished on this trip. Relax for the rest of the day.”

His mother nodded. “I’ll see if I can get him to do that. I think he’s more worn out than he admits.” She glanced at Mac with gratitude. “Thanks. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Hey, no problem.” Mac smiled at her and headed out the door. On the way, he passed his father coming in. “Try and get Mom to take it easy the rest of the afternoon, will you? She’s bushed.”

“I need to check the stock tank.”

“I’ll do it. No point in both of us heading out there in this heat.”

His father laid a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks. If I don’t watch your mother, she’ll run until she’s exhausted.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Mac crossed the back porch and started toward the corrals with a sense of relief. The solo activity was just what he needed to get him through the next few hours.

Chapter Twenty-Three

He’d never been so nervous and excited in his life as he drove toward Tess’s house a little before eight. The sun was down and the streetlights on, but heat from the day still rose up from the pavement and he had the truck’s air conditioner going full blast. Considering his heated condition, he might have to run the air conditioner in the dead of winter if he had a negligee-clad Tess waiting at the end of the line. Which wouldn’t happen, because she’d be gone by winter.

The cooler beside him with a bottle of wine inside had been easy to pass by his parents. He’d taken wine over to Tess’s house before. But he’d sneaked the daisy chain he’d made into the cooler when no one was around. His mother did seem to be watching him a little more closely, so he’d have to be careful about similar preparations in the future.

The future. A terrible thought came to him. Maybe tonight was all there would be. After all, once he’d taken care of Tess’s virginity problem, she wouldn’t need to continue this risky business, even though she’d be in Copperville for the rest of the summer. For some reason, he hadn’t figured that out. He’d been “hired” for a specific job, and after tonight the job would be over.

Hell, he couldn’t think about that or he’d be too depressed to enjoy himself. And he definitely planned to enjoy himself. If her brothers ever found out about any of this, his goose was not only cooked, it was fried, so he might as well make the reward worth the risk. Tonight would be one for the record books.

He parked in her driveway and discovered he was shaking like a newborn colt. The lights in the living room were muted, but he doubted that’s where she was. Heart pounding, he got out of the truck with the cooler and walked up the steps to her front porch.

Sure enough, the front door was unlocked. He walked in, his chest tight from the effort to breathe normally, and stepped on a daisy. A trail of them led from the front door down the hall. He turned and locked the door.

Quietly setting the cooler and his hat on the coffee table, he opened the cooler and took out the daisy chain and the wine. First he glanced at the unopened bottle and then at the trail of daisies leading, no doubt, to her bed. If he didn’t open the bottle now, it might never be opened.

Sidestepping the daisies, he walked into the kitchen, found the corkscrew and opened the wine. His hands weren’t completely steady, but he managed to take two goblets from the cupboard without dropping them. With the daisy chain looped around one arm, the wine in one hand and the glasses in the other, he took a deep breath and started down the hall, following the daisies.

He’d prepared himself for the tempting sight of Tess lounging on her bed with very little on. After all, they’d gone swimming together hundreds of times, so he knew what she looked like in a bathing suit. This wouldn’t be all that different, probably.

Wrong.

The scene she’d created left him breathless. His blood hammered through his veins as he gazed at every man’s fantasy — a virgin trapped in a bordello. Red velvet swags and red bulbs in the lamps gave the room a glow of sinful pleasure. His furry gloves lay waiting on a bedside table. On the other, a tray of food that could have been plucked right out of an orgy offered plump red tomatoes, velvet-ripe peaches, chilled asparagus, and clusters of moist grapes.

Whether it was the fruit or some exotic fragrance Tess had added, the room already seemed to smell of sex, and a stereo played soft, but subtly persuasive music with an underlying beat that mimicked the rhythm of lovemaking. Gilt-framed mirrors propped at various angles all reflected the centerpiece of the room, a bed covered in virginal white satin and mounded with satin pillows of all shapes and sizes.

Reclining on that nest of pillows was a woman Mac barely recognized. Although the scraps of white satin covering her breasts seemed inconsequential, they managed to emphasize her cleavage, where the pearl necklace lay cradled by her soft body. His gaze traveled to the white lace garter belt and panties, which defined her femaleness in ways he’d never imagined. The garters were fastened to white silk stockings with a sheen like pearls and lace tops circling her thighs. Last of all he absorbed the fact that Tess, the woman who believed in no-nonsense running shoes and well-worn boots, was wearing a pair of white sandals with four-inch heels.

She gave him a slow smile. “What do you think?”

“I don’t…” He swallowed. “I don’t believe this is about thinking.”

“True.” Her gaze traveled to his crotch. “I have the reaction I wanted. Would you like... to get out of those clothes? They seem a bit... tight.”

“Um, yeah.” He looked down and realized he was still holding the wine bottle, glasses and daisy chain, but his brain was so fuzzy he couldn’t decide what to do with them. It was a wonder he hadn’t poured the wine on the carpet.