Heartstealer (Women of Character3 (10 page)

"I'm fine." She sat
forward and hurriedly rushed into speech. "So tell me, have you always
lived here?" She fiddled with the chair arm and avoided looking at him.

He frowned and crossed his arms
over his chest. "You’re real good at evading answers when you set
your mind to it. Yes, I've lived in these parts most of my life."

"Most of it?" the
question came out quickly, nervously, he thought.

"I left for a while."

She looked at him in surprise.
"You left? Did you want to explore new horizons?"

He shrugged. "I was young,
just out of college. I thought it was what I wanted." It was what he had
wanted at that time in his life.

"Where did you go?"

"Here and there. I lived in
Philadelphia for a time, then moved to New York City for eight years. I was a
sugar broker."

She made no attempt to contain her
amazement. "You were one of those type-A personalities, buying and
selling..." she shook her head. "I can't believe it."

"I wised up."

"And you came back."

He looked out over the vastness of
the mountains. "I guess I’ve always known this is where I belonged,
even though I fought it for a time. There's something about these mountains.
It's in your blood. They call you back, sooner or later."

"I can understand, just being
here this short time," she admitted quietly. "Whether you choose to
believe it or not," she added.

"It gets a lot of people. They
come to the mountains and never leave."

"They are exquisite, if I can
use such an inadequate word, though it must be wicked when the snow
flies."

"We manage," he told her
dryly.

"I bet you always
manage," she quipped, tossing him a grin.

He couldn't help but smile. This
was the Jacie he expected to see. He pushed away from the rail and took a step
toward her. "How about you, Jacie? You strike me as a survivor. Tell me
about this fear of heights and the accident."

Before she could reply his brother
walked around the corner of the cabin and called, "Hi, Jacie, Sloan."
James stepped up on the deck and ran his eyes over Jacie appreciatively,
"You look nice and cool. I hope you're enjoying your stay with us."

She shaded her eyes, looking at him
and then his brother. Sloan wondered if she were making comparisons between he
and James. James was easygoing, he was not. He moved across the deck and toward
the stairs, knowing the answers he wanted would have to wait.

"I love it here, although I
was just telling Sloan I can't imagine these mountains when the snow
comes."

James laughed. "Sometimes we
get snowed in but there’s all kinds of possibilities, depending who you
get stranded with."

She gave a husky laugh, and the
sound rippled all the way through Sloan. What would it be like to be stranded
in a snowstorm with Jacie? Images rose to his mind, entwined limbs and hushed
voices. There was no doubt in his mind it would be interesting and thoroughly
fulfilling.

"Actually, Sloan, I need to
talk with you." James’ voice snapped Jacie back to full awareness.
How could she be daydreaming in broad daylight? She had had the most erotic
thoughts about Sloan. What was the matter with her?

"Mom and Dad will be arriving
in a few days," James said. "I want to set up some arrangements and I
need your input."

"I was just heading back to
the office," Sloan said. He turned back to her. "Are you going to be
okay?"

"Of course," she told
him.

"Are you ill?" James asked
with concern.

"No, just a momentary
dizziness. It’s passed," she reassured him.

"Let us know if you’re
interested in the overnight in two days," Sloan reminded her as he stepped
off the deck.

"Sure." As if she hadn't
just had the air knocked out of her, she waved gaily at him and James as they
left. From what Sloan had said, she had assumed his mother was dead. James said
she and their father were coming for a visit. She would get to meet the woman
who had given birth to Sloan, the woman who had hurt him. She felt a strange
mix of antipathy and curiosity.

She picked up her hair band where
Sloan had left it on the rail and stared out over the valley. The sun was
almost completely down, the day nearly over. A soft sigh escaped her. Life sure
took some strange turns. She looked to the heavens, staring at the rose and
orange streaks placed there by nature. The sun rose and set, it remained
constant. Why weren't people so predictable? Once this job was complete and she
proved to herself she was as good as new, she would move on and leave Timber
Falls. Leave Sloan, a man she felt more and more attracted to each time they
met.

Following dinner that evening Jacie
sat at the lodge bar and nursed a tumbler of Schnapps. Lifting the glass
slowly, she took a small sip, relishing the icy peppermint as it slid past her
tongue and burned down her throat. She twirled the glass, watching MaryAnn and
her husband sway on the small dance floor. Other couples sat at the tables. A
slow, romantic song by Willie Nelson played on the jukebox.

She half-closed her eyes, recalling
another night. It had been spring, and she had just met Brad, a client from
Bonnie's car rental company.

She’d let him talk her into a
date and then taken him to a honky-tonk bar to give him a taste of her favorite
music. She ran a hand through her hair, staring up at the dark beams supporting
the ceiling. Brad had not been interested in the slow, easy pace of country. He
wanted rock and roll and city sights. In all fairness, she’d been right
there beside him, keeping pace.

"Jacie, can I get you another
drink?" Michelle asked from behind the bar.

Dragging herself out of the past,
she glanced at the other girl. "I’m okay for now. By the way, how
did you end up bartending?" she asked curiously.

"I go wherever the boss needs
me," Michelle said with a grin. "They were short-handed so I'm
filling in. I'm hoping to get into college next year, so I'm saving every
penny. Of course, it helps that Sloan and James are first cousins. They give me
a lot of overtime."

"You're a versatile woman,
Michelle." The music ended and it became quiet. "This place is too
quiet." She dropped her feet to the floor.

"Leaving so soon?"
Michelle asked.

She gave Michelle a sly grin.
"Nope. This place needs to be livened up, and I think I'm the person to do
it."

Michelle's eyes widened. "Go
for it, Jacie. I'm right behind you."

Jacie placed a ten-dollar bill on
the bar. "First thing I need is some change for the juke box."

Armed with quarters, Jacie walked
over to the juke box, fed the quarters into the slot and picked out lively
country tunes. Even if nobody else decided to dance, she would. Dancing was
something she thoroughly enjoyed. Strolling back to her seat she stood with her
back to the bar, tilted back her head and closed her eyes to better appreciate
the music as she waited for it to begin playing.

"Mind if I sit down?"
Sloan.

A flutter began in the hollow
between her shoulders. She couldn't mistake that sexy-as-all-get-out voice.

As the music began she waved a hand
carelessly to indicate the seat beside her, but she felt anything but
indifferent. His hair was neatly slicked back and his smoky gray shirt made his
blue eyes seem more intense. She recalled the kiss they had shared and her
insides melted. Michelle placed a long-necked bottle of beer on the bar in
front of him.

"I love music." Jacie
said, tapping her toes to the music. She gave him a questioning glance.
"And I love to dance. How about you?" She gave him a long, slow look.

"I like to dance. I’ve
been called pretty good."

She swept her arm and indicated the
empty dance floor. "I plan to dance the night away." She pushed her
glass toward Michelle. "I think I need something to drink." She swiveled
her chair so she faced him. "Care to join me?" she challenged,
rising.

"I’ll have to pass right
now. I'm waiting for a phone call." His voice sounded husky and his eyes,
well, was it her imagination or did they promise something?

She tamped down her immediate
disappointment.

"Michelle, Jacie's next drink
is on me. Get her a―" he raised his brows questioningly.

"I've decided to switch over
to soda," she supplied impishly. "I have a feeling I need my wits
about me tonight."

"Put an extra cherry in
it," he said, lifting his beer and taking a swallow.

She watched the strong column of
Sloan's neck as he tipped his head back. Tanned and strong with a hint of a
beard. She turned on her heel. "Thanks for the drink," she told him
over her shoulder. "Now I'm going to get started on dancing the night
away." On impulse, she looked back at Michelle. "Do you line
dance?"

"No," Michelle said,
"but I‘d love to learn."

"Well, come on then, I'm just
in the mood to teach you." When Michelle hesitated she ran behind the bar
and pulled the other girl out by the hand.

"You don't mind, do you
Sloan?" she called laughingly to him. Michelle sent him a questioning look
and he waved her on.

"Go ahead, I'll take care of
the bar for now," he said.

Quickly, Michelle pulled her apron off
and tossed it toward the bar top as she joined her on the dance floor.

Fleetingly, Jacie wondered if he
really was waiting for a phone call or if it had been an excuse not to dance
with her. Maybe she imagined that hint of a promise in his eyes.

Never one to let country music go
un-danced, she let the foot stomping, soul-stirring melodies take her over.

She and Michelle started out side
by side. She showed her the basic steps to line dance, and then they were off.
Before she knew it, others had joined them, people she didn't even recall
seeing in the bar. They formed two lines from one end of the dance floor to the
other.

After a time she took a breather
and stood back to watch the dancers with satisfaction. Throwing back her head
in pure enjoyment, she kept the clapping going in time with the music. The
quiet night had turned into a hell-raising good time and everyone seemed game
to join in.

She looked over toward the bar and
studied Sloan. He caught her watching him and she smiled slow and easy. There was
a lull in the music and Michelle flitted past her.

"I hear the phone," the
other girl said on a breathless laugh. "It's probably for Sloan. I have to
get back to the bar anyway, now that everyone's worked up a sweat and a thirst.
You know how to get a party going, Jacie. That was fun."

"So much fun," she
agreed, "that I'm going to start it all over again."

She moved across the dance floor
and pushed the buttons on the jukebox and played more songs.

Looking across the bar she noticed
Sloan take the portable phone into a back room behind the bar. Part of her felt
lighter. Apparently, he hadn't been making excuses to avoid dancing with her.
She fairly danced across the floor and joined the others as some line-danced,
others were in couples, and the remainder danced in groups as they pleased.

The next song was slow, a favorite
of hers by George Strait. Without warning, she felt hard fingers and a wide
palm clasp her hand and slowly pull her around. She had danced with different
male partners for the last hour, but she knew this time it would be special.

Jacie whirled on her toes in a half
circle and found Sloan behind her, his chest against her shoulder as they
danced to the music. Her heart flipped, excruciatingly slow, and then beat so
much faster and faster. He pulled her around to face him and they moved,
breast-to-breast, her head tucked under his chin, her one hand captured in his,
the other resting on his shoulder. She felt ready to burn up in his arms, but
she tipped her head back briefly and smiled at him instead, automatically
matching her steps to his. By the end of the dance she didn't want to stop.

Ω

Sloan heard the music change tempo
and he reluctantly released Jacie. When she stepped back he saw her vibrant
face and the question in her eyes. He couldn't refuse to answer the question
there. She loved to dance, he had seen it as he watched her teach the other
patrons intricate steps.

"I’ve wanted to dance
with you the last half hour." He’d finally decided he wanted the
pleasure of holding her close. Following that thought with action he pulled her
into his arms, inhaled the fresh scent that lingered in her hair. All his
warnings about her to himself meant nothing. Life and energy fairly radiated from
her, drawing him closer and closer. He wanted to discover more about Jacie, a
woman who danced like a dream, who liked to keep life busy and energetic. She
kept secrets that he wanted to unravel. He wondered for a brief moment if this
was how his dad had felt back when he had met Sloan's mother.

The surprise on her face when he
pulled her back to him gave way to pleasure. Smoothly he twirled her to the
faster music.

"You’re smooth,"
she said, laughing with delight.

"I feel like I’ve danced
with you many times before." The tempo of the music sank down into his
heart, his steps and movements attuned to her as he let himself drink in the
beauty she radiated. His throat felt bone dry, his heart beat hard and loud in
his chest, but he couldn't give her up, not even when the music stopped.

She stood beside him, her shoulder
leaning into his chest. He held onto her hand and he was surprised by its
smooth texture, the fine, small bones beneath the skin.

"For a woman who skydives and
has strength in her hands," he mused, "you feel damned
delicate."

"That sounds like a
compliment." She tilted her face up to him and his immediate thought was
to kiss her, taste those lips again. Temptation in the form of liquid brown
eyes stared up at him. He took in the faintest of freckles across her nose, the
full red lips. He wanted to taste them and make her breath his own. He dropped
a slow kiss on her smiling lips. She responded immediately and then pulled
back.