A Cowboy's Temptation

“Sad that it took this for us to agree.” But even as she gave him that unguarded opinion, she was moving toward the front door.

“We agreed on motherhood and apple pie,” he reminded her.

“Everyone agrees on motherhood and apple pie. Are they going to be okay?”

He fell into step. “Eventually. It’s mostly cuts and bruises.”

“What sparked it? Who started it?”

“You’ve amassed a loyal following,” he observed.

“And you haven’t? It’s encouraging that so many people are choosing tranquility over industrial development.”

“I didn’t have to amass them. The majority was on board with the railway all along. That’s why they voted for me.”

She stopped halfway up the short staircase, turning to meet him at eye level. “Are you blaming me for a barroom brawl?”

“I’m not sure whether to blame you or admire you,” he answered honestly. “You’ve turned this into one hell of a horse race.”

She took the last couple of steps backward, as if she wanted to keep an eye on him. She reached behind her to turn the doorknob, pushing the door wide open. “I never intended for anyone to get hurt.”

“I know you didn’t,” he allowed.

The inside of the building was cool and bright, light from a glass wall flooded into the great room. He noticed the furniture was oversized, leather and extremely comfortable looking. The couches and chairs were earth tones, arranged in small groupings around a central, stone fireplace.

The ceilings were high, with massive cedar beams arching across the room. A natural wood staircase led from the entry to an open hallway along the second floor with six doors leading off.

“My office is through the kitchen,” she said, leading him past an island, past the freshly painted alcove, along a short hallway and through a door to a bright, octagonal room.

It had a multitude of windows and several skylights. Opaque blinds on the lower windows provided privacy, but it remained bright and cheerful. A maple desk with a computer, guest chairs and bookshelves took up one corner. A small meeting table was centrally located. Darby bypassed them all, leading the way to a sofa with a pair of matching armchairs facing it across a glass-topped coffee table.

She took one of the armchairs, while he took the other.

“This is nice,” he complimented, feeling very much at home in the room.

“Thank you.” She paused. “Ironic that you’re setting out to destroy it.”

“This has never been about you, or about Sierra Hotel,” he couldn’t help but put in. If he could support the town and make her happy at the same time, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“Funny, it feels like it’s always been about me.” She kicked off her running shoes and pulled one leg up beneath her in the big chair.

She looked vulnerable, beautiful and so incredibly sexy that his breath stalled in his chest. He didn’t want to defeat her. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to hold her safe in his arms and keep the entire world at bay.

“So, what now?” she asked, unfastening her braid, raking back her hair with spread fingers and refastening it into a ponytail.

He watched her movements, remembering the softness of her hair between his fingertips, the feel of her lithe body in his arms, the taste of her lips on his.

“Seth?”

He shook himself back to reality. “I need your help.”

She coughed a short laugh. “Why am I skeptical?”

“We need to do something about the rhetoric. The debate. The escalating arguments.”

“I’ll take care of my arguments. You’re on your own.”

He shook his head. “I don’t mean you should help me frame them. I want you to help me stop them.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because there are some very impassioned people in this town.”

“Yeah?” She cocked her head sideways. “That sounds like the mayor’s job to me.”

“Agreed. But for better or worse, you and I are the ones setting the example, and I think for everybody’s sake we need to dial it back.”

She dropped her hands into her lap, looking suspicious and skeptical. “You’re asking me to back off? Back off from pushing my side of the referendum?”

“You agreed that things are getting out of hand.”

“I did. But dialing it back helps your side, not mine. You said it yourself, your supporters are already your supporters. I’m the one with ground to make up.”

He struggled to hold his frustration in check. “You think I’m asking to gain an advantage? Six people went to the hospital last night.”

“I will concede, as mayor, you probably also want to stop the public fistfights.”

“As mayor, or as anybody else, that’s exactly what I want to do. Quite frankly, at this point, that’s all I want to do.” Swaying voters on the referendum was going to have to wait until the peace returned to Lyndon.

“Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about the spin-offs of this plan for your side of the debate. I can see them already, and I’ve only been thinking about it for two minutes.”

“I think you’re better than me at gauging the angles.”

“Don’t give me that ‘aw shucks, ma’am’ response and pretend you just wandered in off the back forty. It won’t make me let my guard down.”

“I’m not pretending anything. This is how my brain is working.” He counted on his fingers. “Step one, stop the bar fights. Step two, worry about the referendum. And that’s it. Maybe you can do five things at once, but I’m a sequential guy. I want my city to be safe. And if you have a better idea of how to make it safe, I’m all ears.”

She paused, obviously considering his perspective. As she should, because he was right. Their best possible move was to tone down their own argument. They needed to set an example. If the two of them demonstrated restraint and calm, there was a chance their supporters would follow suit.

“How would that work?” she finally asked.

He tried not to let the relief show in his expression. “You and I would be cordial, friendly and respectful.”

She blew out a skeptical breath. “You and me? We may have to practice a bit to get to that.”

“No shouting,” he elaborated. “No name-calling—”

“I never—”

“No eye rolls, no dismissive gestures, no sarcastic contradictions.”

“I’m serious.” She sat forward in her chair. “If we want to pull that off, we’re going to have to practice.”

“You don’t think you can control yourself?”

“I don’t think either of us can control ourselves. You know what we’re like when we get together.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he wished he did. There wasn’t a thing in the world he’d like better than getting together with Darby, in every possible sense of the phrase.

“That’s not what I meant.” She correctly interpreted his expression. But her hands had tightened on the arms of the chair, and her eyes had turned opaque with what looked like desire.

Her posture and expression sent his libido into overdrive. He gathered his self-control and lowered his tone. “That might not be what you meant. But it’s something else we better worry about. Nobody can know about this thing we’ve got—”

“There is no thing.”

“Oh, yes, there is.” He knew enough to realize that the attraction between them was a complicating factor. They had to keep it firmly in check, not let a hint of it sneak out. “You look at me with those bedroom eyes.”

“I don’t have bedroom eyes. Leave my eyes out of this.”

“We need to be careful.”

“I’m not worried,” she retorted.

“I am.”

“I’m not likely to throw myself in your arms in front of an audience.” But her expression said she was thinking about it.

“If you look at me like that, you won’t have to.”

“You mean they’ll figure it out for themselves?”

“I mean, I’ll grab you and carry you out the nearest exit.”

“Ha, ha.”

“I’m not joking. It’s a fight for me to keep from kissing you right now.”

A slight flush rose on her cheeks, making her look even more desirable. “You can’t just up and kiss me, Seth.”

“You can up and kiss me,” he told her softly and honestly. “Any old time you want. I won’t mind in the least.”

She didn’t seem to have a comeback for that.

Instead, her jaw dropped ever so slightly. Her lips were dark and full. And as she blinked, he watched her lashes sweep across her gorgeous, moss-green eyes.

Seth crooked his finger, motioning her toward him.

She gave a very subtle shake of her head.

But he knew he was right. His voice went lower, husky with desire. “We should get it out of our system.”