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Nadia placed a hand over her heart when it began beating fast. The closer he got, the more he worked on all of her female senses. There was something about Jaxon Ravnel that did things to her each and every time she saw him. What was there about him that made her feel vulnerable? Make her want to toss caution to the wind and...
And do what? Risk giving her heart to another man? Have another man place her on hisagenda? Trample both her heart and her pride? Refusing to think about what Benson had done to her, she concentrated on studying Jaxon instead. Why did he have to look so good?
He had coffee-colored skin, dark brown eyes and a solid, bearded jaw. She also knew he had black hair under that Stetson he was wearing. He had handsome features on a definitely sensual face, features any woman would drool over. He was also tall with muscular shoulders, a tight abdomen and a broad and powerful-looking chest. Definitely a body that was well-built.
The business jacket he wore over a white, collared shirt fit him perfectly, and she figured his taut thighs were why those slacks looked so darn good on him. Altogether—his looks, clothes and walk—made up a very alluring package. Now for the umpteenth time she was wondering if she should have her head examined for following Jill’s and Paige’s advice and inviting him to dinner.
She nearly jumped at the sound of the knock at the door. Drawing in a deep breath, she moved away from the window and left the kitchen. She glanced around the living room and wondered what he would think of her home. Although the Novak Homestead encompassed a lot of acres of land, the two-story, five-bedroom, four-bath house wasn’t all that big. At least not in comparison to the monstrosity of a ranch house she’d heard Jaxon owned in Virginia. Paige had visited there a few times with Jess. Dumfries, Virginia, was less than thirty miles from the nation’s capital. Paige had told her all about Jaxon’s horse ranch and the beautiful thoroughbreds he owned.
Not wanting Jaxon to know she’d been spying on him from the moment his car had pulled into her yard, she asked, “Who is it?”
“Jaxon.”
She opened the door. Although she’d seen his approach, every single step of it, she still blinked. Up close he was even more handsome, and when he smiled, making dimples appear, she was a goner. She forced her attention from his face to the two top buttons on his shirt that were undone, exposing a dark, hairy chest. Her heart rate increased. She couldn’t help but appreciate his total maleness although she resented her reaction to it.
“Hello, Nadia.”
His greeting made her look back into his face. “Jaxon. Welcome to my home,” she said, easing back for him to enter while pulling herself together. He smelled good. She thought that same thing each and every time she was around him.
“These are for you,” he said, handing her the flowers and then removing his Stetson and placing it on the hat rack by the door.
“Thank you. They are beautiful. You didn’t have to,” she said, lowering her head to draw in the scent of the flowers. They were a beautiful mixture of pink daisies, white peonies, orchids, bluebells and roses. But what had really gotten her was the feel of his hand when he’d given her the flowers. She had felt the touch all the way to her toes.
She glanced back up at him, smiled. “But I’m glad you did. I love flowers and these are some of my favorites.”
“I’m glad.”
“Excuse me while I put them in a vase of water. Make yourself at home. The table is set and dinner is ready.”
“It smells good.”
“Thanks.” She’d asked his Outlaw cousins about his favorite foods. Not surprisingly most were Southern dishes. One year while in high school she’d spent the entire summer with the Atlanta-based Westmorelands. That summer she had worked in Chase Westmoreland’s restaurant and learned how to cook most of the foods Jaxon liked.
It didn’t take her long to find a vase while recalling her reaction when their hands had touched. Just remembering it made her feel light-headed. Why now? She’d been around him before, although for short periods of time. That one time the two of them had engaged in a longer conversation was at Charm’s wedding. She had felt somewhat light-headed then, and had to fight back from drooling.
Now that they were completely alone in her home, more than anything, she needed all the self-discipline she could muster to handle her attraction. The last thing she wanted or needed was for her body to look for some excuse to be drawn closer to him, to desire him any more than she already did. That had been her mistake with Benson. She had been taken with him from the first.
After putting the flowers in water, she headed back to the living room.
Jaxon turned from studying the huge portrait when he heard the sound of Nadia returning. He watched, appreciating her shapely backside as she crossed the room to place the vase of flowers on a table in front of a window. She then turned to him with a huge smile on her face.
“I think they look perfect here, don’t you?” she asked.
He honestly thought she looked pretty damn perfect in her blue maxi-dress. It had a drawstring that emphasized her small waistline, and she’d complemented it with a short suede vest and a pair of black leather boots.
He’d seen her a few times in a shorter dress and knew she had a gorgeous pair of legs. He especially liked the outfit she was wearing because it showcased all her shapely curves. “Yes, they look nice there,” he said. He then turned back to the huge portrait he’d been looking at earlier. Last thing Nadia needed to see was how aroused he’d gotten from looking at her.
“This is a nice family picture,” he said, trying to concentrate on the huge, framed portrait that hung over her fireplace. It was a picture of an older couple surrounded by four beautiful younger girls. “You look so young.”
He knew the moment she’d come to stand beside him and glanced over at her. For a second, maybe two, their gazes held. That’s when he felt it. A sexual connection she was trying to fight the same way he was. Had he misread her all these times? Had this been the reason she’d avoided him?
She quickly broke eye contact with him to glance up at the picture. “I was six. This picture was taken a few months before Pam left for college in California. Although we were all smiling, my, Jill and Paige’s hearts were breaking. We didn’t want Pam to leave us and go so far away.”
He nodded. “The four of you are close?” Although he asked the question, he already knew the answer. Anyone observing the four whenever they were together could see that.
“Yes. Pam is the best oldest sister anyone could have. We have different mothers. Her mother died when Pam was three and Dad married my mother, Alma, on Pam’s tenth birthday. Pam says my mom was the best birthday present she’d ever gotten. Mom filled the void she’d had in her life after losing her mother.”
He glanced back at the picture. Alma Novak had been a beautiful woman and he could see her catching the eye of the widowed rancher Jay Winston Novak Jr. It was probably the same way her youngest daughter had caught his. “Your mother was a beautiful woman and your father, quite a handsome man. They had a beautiful family,” he said, glancing over at her.
