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“Everything can wait. I want you right there in the canyon with me.” He pulled on a pair of well-worn leather boots.
“I’ll be in the way. I’d really rather not.”
“It’s an order, Gracie. From your boss.” He snatched up his script, grabbed her arm, and headed for the door. But as he reached out for the handle, he paused in midair. Turning, he began to study her in a way that made little prickles of excitement rise up all over her skin.
“Gracie, honey, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to slip off those panties of yours before we go.”
“What!”
“I believe I made myself pretty clear.”
Her pulses raced at the sound of that husky drawl. “I can’t go outside without my underpants!”
“Why not?”
“Because— Because it’s outside, and I’d be . . .”
“You’d be naked underneath that cute little skirt of yours, but as long as you sit like a lady, I don’t see that anybody’s going to know. Except for me, that is.”
Once again, his gaze trailed over her, making her skin feel damp and hot. He didn’t understand that she wasn’t the sort of woman who went around without underwear, not even in her new, made-over version.
At her hesitation, he released that overly patient sigh he used when he was about to manipulate someone. “I can’t believe we’re arguing about this. Apparently the fact that there’ve been so many distractions these past couple of weeks has made you forget we still have an agreement. You know as well as I do that I own what’s underneath that skirt.” Another sigh. “I never thought I’d have to give you—a former Sunday School teacher—a lecture on ethics.”
Fighting back the urge to giggle, which would only encourage him to be even more outrageous, she tried to sound reasonable. “Former Sunday School teachers don’t go around without their underwear.”
“You show me where it says that in the Bible.”
This time she did laugh.
“I’m losing patience, sweetheart.” The sparks in those midnight blue eyes made her feel breathless. “Take ’em off, darlin’, or I’ll take ’em off for you.”
Oh, Lord. His smoky drawl slithered through her body like an intimate caress, and she knew a moment of pure recklessness. A lifetime stretched ahead of her where she could be plain old Gracie Snow. For now, she was a wild woman.
Skin burning, she turned her back to him, slipped her hands under her skirt, and pulled off a pair of buttercup yellow panties.
Bobby Tom chuckled and whipped them from her hands.
“Thank you, darlin’. I think I’ll bring these along for inspiration.”
He shoved the panties deep into the pocket of his jeans, and they were so tiny they didn’t even make a bump.
“Those muscles of yours ought to come with a license.”
“You look like you should be packin’ a license yourself, darlin’.”
“Why don’t you search me and find out if I am?”
Natalie and Bobby Tom smiled as they tossed away the silly lines, making them sound cute, but not cloying. They were reclined on the blanket Gracie had fetched earlier, which lay spread out in a small glade shaded by sycamore and oak.
“Why don’t I just do that.” Bobby Tom kept smiling as he settled Natalie deeper into his embrace and tugged open the drawstring on
her peasant-style blouse.
And why shouldn’t he smile? Gracie thought, looking away as the fabric slipped off Natalie’s creamy shoulder. He was a master at turning sex into an amusing little game.
The warm breeze trickled up under her skirt, caressing her bare bottom. Her hypersensitive skin prickled. She was both aroused by her nakedness and afraid that a sudden gust of wind would flip open the skirt’s sarong-style front and expose her secret to the world. This was all Bobby Tom’s fault. It was bad enough that she’d let him talk her into going out in public nearly naked, but while he and Natalie had rehearsed, he’d added to his sins by looking over at her and deliberately touching the pocket of his jeans, reminding her what he had there. She’d never shared a sexual secret with a man, and his teasing made her feel both lightheaded and feverish.
The trees rustled above her, and the air in the canyon carried a faint hint of cedar. The dialogue continued until it was broken off by the soft sounds of a kiss. Despite her vow to act professionally, she couldn’t bring herself to look. She wanted to be the woman in his arms on that quilt. All alone, just the two of them. Naked.
