kitchen and burning dessert, I’m just dandy.”
She poked two fingers into the pie again and stuffed the sticky filling into her mouth. Hopefully her uncouth manners would prompt Reid Barclay to leave her in peace. Or in this case, leave her to wallow in her personal misery.
“You’re doing that all wrong,” he said. “Let me show you how to make short work of that pie.”
Reid plopped down beside her on the small bench, his bootheels scraping the floor as he extended his long, jean-clad legs the same direction as hers. She’d expected his black boots to have fancy stitching, but they were plain and the leather looked supple, thanks to the shine, evidence of frequent polishing.
Like an exuberant kid, he poked his long fingers into the sticky filling and scooped a large finger-full to his mouth.
Though she was typically quick to instruct others on proper etiquette, she couldn’t seem to get her mind and mouth to work together. Reid Barclay was to blame, for each time he stole another bite his broad shoulder brushed hers and sent energy jolting through her.
Energy of the most titillating kind.
Heavenly days, the fact he was her boss and affianced didn’t penetrate her mind. Neither did the fact that her pa had recently rustled Reid’s prize stallion and was holed up right under Reid’s nose, or that Reid would sooner see the old man hang.
Right now as he sat beside her helping himself to another taste of her charred molasses pie, he looked for all the world like a cowpoke. A very tempting cowboy.
Oh, this was dangerous sitting here in the pantry with this man. She started to get up just as he reached over to scoop up more filling, pressing the warm pan on her lap.
“Perhaps you should hold the pie plate,” she said and made to pass it to him.
She accidentally bumped his elbow just hard enough to jar loose the wad of filling poised on his fingers. The gooey mass slipped off and dropped onto his jeans.
“Now look what you did,” he said.
He didn’t have to tell her to look. She couldn’t drag her gaze away from the sticky brown mass resting close to his crotch. And were her eyes deceiving her or was that part of him shifting and lengthening?
Nope, she wasn’t imagining things. Her heart pounded and the place between her legs began pulsing.
She tore her gaze away from his obvious erection and stared at the pie safe, forcing to mind one of Headmistress Halsey’s dictums. A lady never glances at a gentleman’s private parts.
Yet here she was, staring at Reid Barclay’s crotch as if he were a randy cowpoke fresh off the range and she was a cow-town Cyprian leaning over a brothel balcony, ready to welcome him to her bed. Even knowing she had behaved brazenly, she was tempted to take another peek.
And what did that say about her? It certainly wasn’t the image she’d honed all these years, nor was it the one expected of her at the Falsmonte Ladies Academy in California.
She had been certain she could handle such a delicate situation because she knew the pitfalls that awaited an unsuspecting miss. If learning by example were a prerequisite, her experience with Irwin certainly made her the perfect teacher for the young ladies of quality—a position she was to start in less than a month. What would Headmistress Halsey think if she saw her now?
That depended on how Ellie handled this situation. A lady with her experience should be able to extract herself from such a touchy predicament without undo embarrassment to herself or the gentleman. As for doing so gracefully—
She gave up all hopes of that. Without a doubt, her cheeks must be as red as the handles on the sad irons stored on the shelf beside the ironing board.
“I was doing fine as long as you were holding it,” he said, the warm pie pan pressing into her thighs and rubbing shockingly low on her belly as he filched another piece. “This is a mighty fine pie, Miss Cade.”
With effort, she found her voice. “The crust has the consistency of charcoal.”
His warm breath fanned her ear and she shivered. “No fault of yours.”
She cleared her throat and swallowed hard, thinking he was so close she could almost taste the hint of molasses on his breath. “I am relieved you believe that.”
“I didn’t at first,” he said.
Ellie spared him a quick glance only to find his gaze was fixed on her mouth. She tried for a smile and damned the way her lips trembled.
“What changed your mind?” she asked.
“Seeing you sitting in here looking forlorn,” he said. “If you’d burned this pie on purpose, you wouldn’t do that.”
Which meant either Hubert or her pa was guilty. She hoped Reid would tell her his thoughts, and what he intended to do about it. But he scooped up the last of the filling, which told her he was more interested in eating than talking.
She expelled the breath she’d been holding. Thank God, he’d about consumed all of the pie and this torment of sitting close to him would soon be over.
“Have the last bite,” he said as he lifted his hand to her mouth.
He couldn’t mean for her to eat the filling off his fingers, yet they remained poised before her. She licked her lips more from nerves than hunger.
“Thank you, but go on and enjoy it yourself,” she said, proud she’d kept her voice from quavering.
But she was helpless to keep her heart from thundering like a stampeded herd. His eyes glowed with a sultry light that set her insides blazing hotter than the overheated stove.
The inviting curve of his lips as they quirked into a knowing smile had hers parting of their own accord. And mercy, but her thighs ached to do the same.
“I insist you enjoy the last of it.” Something dark and deliciously wicked flared in his eyes.
“It isn’t proper,” she said, and this time her voice did tremble to betray her outward calm.
His dark eyebrows wiggled. “Few pleasurable things are.”
How well she knew. She gave a half-hearted effort to pull away, denying the longing that danced a hoedown within her. It was a struggle to keep her quivering thighs pressed together, but she managed to retain that much dignity.
“Go on,” he said, and this time she was sure his intentions were far from honorable as he pressed the morsel to her mouth, brushing the syrup over her lips. “You know you want to.”
Oh, she wanted that and more. She knew it was wrong, but sitting this close to his powerful body and staring into his eyes that glowed with wicked promises pushed all thoughts of propriety from her mind.
She took a cautious bite and shivered as her tongue grazed his fingertips. The arousing scent emanating off Reid Barclay overpowered the sweet molasses custard melting on her tongue.
She couldn’t have formed a coherent thought if her life depended on it.
He
