Golden Chances (Borrowed Brides 1)

“Family trait,” Faith confirmed.

She smiled up at him, at the perfectly sculpted features, at the shining brown eyes. The realization stunned her. Her heart, full to overflowing, pounded in her chest. Somewhere, between Washington and Chicago, she had fallen in love with Reese Jordan.

“About those family traits…” Reese took Faith’s arm and led her toward the sofa. “I think we ought to discuss a few of them.”

“What about lunch?” There was a funny little catch in her voice, an almost breathless quality. He noticed it right away.

He nudged her back onto the sofa. “Forget lunch,” he ordered. “This is more important.”

“What?”

Reese studied her face. That look was back in her eyes. And this time he wasn’t going to lose his opportunity.

He bent his head.

She met him halfway.

She closed her eyes just seconds before she felt his mouth?cool, firm, demanding, tasting of desire.

Her lips parted easily, allowing his tongue access to explore.

Reese’s mouth claimed hers hungrily. She was warm, welcoming, and impossibly sweet. Like licorice.

Chapter Sixteen

The sun couldn’t set fast enough to suit Reese. The tension hung in the air like a stale odor, so thick you could smell it, taste it. But there was a subtle difference, because now it was spiced with anticipation, with the knowledge of what was to come. And if heated looks, smoldering eyes, moist lips, and pounding hearts were anything to go by, this promised to be an exciting night.

He turned his chair around to face the window. Was it his imagination, or was the sun a little lower on the horizon? He sighed, pulled out his watch, and glanced at it. There was still an hour or so of daylight left to endure. He turned back to his desk and the stack of work awaiting his attention.

Reese smiled when he found the copy of the telegram from David. It had been waiting for him at the telegraph office in Chicago. David hadn’t been able to ferret out any information on Champ Collins. Reese could just imagine David’s frustration.

He wondered suddenly if he shouldn’t delay sending a reply calling off the search. David had enjoyed himself tremendously during the contract negotiations. Maybe he should let his cousin suffer a little longer or, better yet, let David approach the aunts. It might be interesting to see what story they concocted.

Champ Collins, Reese thought, a product of Faith’s evasions and his own extremely vivid imagination. He had made a fool of himself over a figment of his own imagination. And Faith had let him. She would have to be punished for that omission.

Reese pushed the paperwork aside and turned his chair back to the window. He listened to the splashing in the washroom as Faith supervised Joy’s bath. The little tyrant had finally emerged from her room an hour or so ago with tears in her eyes and words of apology on her lips.

Faith had fed her an early supper and plopped her into the bathtub. It had been a long, tiring day for Joy, and as soon as she was clean and dry, he planned to tuck her into bed. He hoped to do the same to her older sister soon afterward.

The kissing session they’d shared before lunch hadn’t done anything to ease the throbbing in his groin.

“Hello, Weese.”

Reese turned his chair back around. Faith stood beside Joy in the doorway of the washroom. Joy’s long blond hair was wrapped in a towel. She shivered in the cool a

ir and huddled closer to Faith.

Reese got up from his chair and poured another scuttle of coal in the stove.

“She slipped in the tub and got her hair wet,” Faith explained, “so I washed it.” She wet her lips nervously and looked at Reese. “It shouldn’t take too long to dry if I sit with her in front of the fire and brush it.”

“Take your time.” Reese smiled at Faith. He could tell she was as anxious as he was. “The sun hasn’t gone down yet.” He pulled a wing chair closer to the stove and sat down. “Come here, sprite. I’ll tell you a bedtime story while Faith combs out your tangles.”

Joy let go of Faith’s hand and ran to Reese. She settled herself into his lap, resting her head against his chest. “Are you still mad at me, Weese?”

Reese’s expression was infinitely patient and tender.

Faith caught her breath at the serenity of the little domestic scene.