Twin Seduction

He’d checked and no other ranchers in the area were experiencing any problems. Only Maddie. Hitting another rut, Cash slowed his vehicle to a crawl. Ten days away had given him some time to think, and he’d come up with what might just be a solution to the problem, or at least a way to get Pearson to back off.

He and Maddie could get engaged.

He had to admit that when the idea had first come to him, it had given him pause. More than that, it had given him a good-sized jolt. An engagement hadn’t been on his immediate agenda. It wasn’t even in his five-year plan. He liked his life just the way it was. Being single suited him to a T. And he was pretty sure Maddie was happy with hers.

But it wouldn’t be for real. Just a ruse so the incidents stopped until he could get some hard evidence about who was behind them.

Oh, his father and Maddie’s had shared a lifelong dream of having the two of them marry and unite the two ranches. But it wasn’t a plan that he and Maddie had bought into. Their relationship, even during their teens when his system had been hormone-driven, had never taken that turn into intimacy. Perhaps because he’d always thought of her as his kid sister and best friend.

But a fake engagement between the two of them wouldn’t surprise their neighbors in the least. Most of them would think that Mike Farrell and Jesse Landry had been right after all. It shouldn’t be hard to talk Maddie into it. He’d just lay out the logic of it and then give her a little push. Over the years, he’d learned that sometimes Maddie had to be pushed. Especially since she’d become so focused on her jewelry-design business.

Cash frowned as the dark outline of the ranch house came into view. The flood lights that normally lit up the stables and the house were off. And he couldn’t see any other light coming from the house. The place must have lost power during the storm.

Chances were she was asleep. The last thing he wanted was to wake her up. But the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to talk to Maddie about the engagement thing tonight and get it settled.

Cash parked in front of the house. That was when he caught a glimmer of light. Some of his tension eased. She’d probably lit a candle. From the time she was a child, electrical storms had frightened her to death.

Not wanting to wake her if she was asleep, Cash didn’t bother knocking. Instead, he looked for the key under the terra-cotta pot. When he didn’t find it there, he frowned and some of his tension returned. He should have told her to find a better hiding place.

His frown deepened when he tried the door and found it unlocked. He’d have to have a word with Maddie about that, too. He saw her the moment he stepped into the living room and felt a surge of relief. She was stretched out on the sofa, one arm flung over her head. The fat white candle burning on the coffee table allowed him to see the half-empty plate of cheese and grapes and the opened bottle of wine.

His lips curved. She’d probably decided to weather the storm with a little help from a good chardonnay. It was only as he drew closer that he sensed there was something different about her. What was it?

Puzzled, he studied her more closely in the flickering candle light. Perhaps it was the clothes—or the lack of them. Her robe had fallen open. Beneath it, she wore a silk-and-lace tank top that skimmed the tops of her breasts. The matching panties left long, slender legs and narrow ankles bare. Then he saw it. Her toenails were painted a sexy shade of red.

Awareness and heat rippled through him. Cash frowned and glanced at the hand that she’d flung over her head. Her fingernails were painted, too—in the same sexy color. This time the heat was sharper, and an image planted itself in his mind of that hand moving over his bare skin.

He shook his head to clear it. This was Maddie. What was the matter with him? Narrowing his eyes, he let them drift over her again. This time he noted her hair. That was different, too. She’d cut it. The long braid she’d worn ever since he could remember was gone. Spread out as they were on the leather cushion, the honey-colored strands of her hair looked as if some man had just run his hand through them.

When he realized that he wanted to run his hands through them, he fisted them at his sides. What in the world had happened while he was away? Had she had some kind of a makeover? That was the only explanation that occurred to him.

Much harder to explain was the way his body was reacting to her. Why would painted nails and a change of hairdo affect him this way? When he finally dragged his gaze from her hair, it froze on her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and so he could see the nipples beneath the thin swatch of silk that covered them.

Heat didn’t ripple this time. It punched through him as if he’d stepped from an icily air-conditioned room into the blazing New Mexico sun. His knees nearly buckled.

What in hell had happened to him on that cattle drive? He was still the same man he’d been when he’d left. Wasn’t he? But something had changed. What was it? He couldn’t remember responding to any woman with this kind of intensity. And he hadn’t even touched her.

He wasn’t going to, either. He’d come over here to see that she was safe. And she was. So he was going to pick her up and carry her into her bed. Then he was going to bed down himself in the guest room.

Still, Cash hesitated for a moment, wishing he had more of a handle on what was going on. Finally he moved toward her and lifted her up off the couch.

JORDAN WILLED HERSELF to sink deeper into the dream. In it, she was with Gregory Peck, the tall, quiet tenderfoot who’d just fought a duel to save her life. They’d ridden back to her place, both knowing that all the obstacles between them had been removed. After they’d climbed the porch steps, he’d lifted her to carry her through the front door and across the room.

She heard the sound of his footsteps, felt the strength in his arms. It was the first time he’d touched her, and her head spun a bit as sensations arrowed through her with such clarity. She was intensely aware of the hardness of his chest and the heat from the press of his fingers on her stomach. Flames licked outward from that spot until her whole body burned.Every detail was so real. The collar of his shirt was rough beneath her palm, the skin on his neck damp. And he smelled simply wonderful—a mix of leather and horses and soap. She nuzzled closer. She had to get closer. When he stopped, she lifted a hand to his face, absorbed the sensation of that firm chin, the sharply angled cheekbone. Then unable to resist, she ran kisses along the line of his jaw. She wanted to taste him. She had to taste him.

As if he’d read her mind, he turned his head until his lips were just brushing hers. For a moment, she hesitated, and she sensed that he was hesitating, too. She was tempted to open her eyes, to try to see what he was thinking. But she knew, didn’t she? And if she opened her eyes, he might disappear.

She couldn’t let that happen. She had to keep him here. Tightening her fingers on his face, she drew him closer and whispered, “It’s all right. I want you to kiss me.”

When he did, she pushed everything else out of her mind and let herself plunge into the pleasure. His mouth was so soft. Different than she’d imagined. His flavors were different, too. Dark and hot and dangerous, they exploded on her tongue, shooting through her with such force that she was suddenly filled with him. Everything inside her sped up.

Never had a dream seemed so real. But reality had never brought this kind of pleasure before.

When he drew away, she knew a moment of pure panic. Of aching loss.

“Maddie, I—”

She felt the name whisper across her skin. It registered for a fleeting moment, but her desperation to taste him again shoved any thought ruthlessly aside. “I want more.” She needed more. “Make love with me.”

As he lowered her to the bed and joined her, he kissed her again. She nipped his bottom lip and threw herself fully into the dream. This time, beneath the flavors she’d sampled before, she tasted hunger. Was it his or hers?

They had to break off the kiss again and again as they rid themselves of clothes. Each time their lips rejoined, they demanded more. Received more. Their hands, desperate now, touched, tormented and took. Pleasure escalated, and the fire between them blazed more fiercely.

In some dim, recessed corner of his mind, Cash knew that he shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be in Maddie’s bed making love to her. She’d had some wine. He’d seen the half-empty bottle. And she’d been frightened by a storm.

He’d never been an impulsive man. It wasn’t in his nature to throw caution to the wind. But this was different. She was different. And his grip on anything rational had begun to slip the moment he’d stood at the foot of her couch and felt that first incredible punch of heat.

No woman had ever aroused him that quickly or that fully.

When he’d kissed her, his system had been totally shocked. Never in his life had he imagined that her flavor would be this exotic, this addictive. Each time he sampled, he seemed to find something new. And now he couldn’t stop himself from wanting more. Or from taking more.

His hands had taken on a will of their own, racing over her, touching, tempting, claiming. Hers were no less busy, and each place her fingers pressed or her nails scraped, he felt twin ribbons of fire and ice race along his skin.