Not That Kind of Girl (27 page)

In a matter of seconds, it was all perfectly clear to him.

Raymond skimmed the one-page affidavit, smiling to himself. It was kind of cute, really—his assistant had done a decent job with it. His only criticism was that her description of Raymond’s alleged sexual harassment was so clinical that it made him sound like a vile pervert. Also, she’d conveniently skipped the part about how she’d loved every fucking second of it. But, all in all, bravo for her.

Too bad she’d never be a real attorney.

“Did you read it carefully?” the young man asked.

“Yep,” Raymond said, smiling bigger now, signing his name with his usual lavish swoops and swirls and adding the date where indicated.

“Do you pledge that the information is true and that you understand the importance of this oath?”

Raymond snickered, looking up at his misguided attacker. “Sure, why not? Can I get my keys and go now?”

The kid stared at him as though he knew something Raymond didn’t, which was idiotic, since the exact opposite was true. As well written and clever as the affidavit was, it was a worthless scrap of paper in the state of California without a notary public’s seal, which was clearly something that big-titted and small-brained former assistant of his hadn’t bothered to find out.

The young man cleared his throat and began reading off from the numbered list of adverments, one for each individual act of sexual harassment to which Raymond had just admitted. If doing so somehow made the guy feel better about the behavior of his slutty sister, then, hey, Raymond was willing to donate a few more minutes of his time.

“ ‘At this aforementioned date, I, the affiant, Raymond Julius Sandberg, Esq., do hereby swear that I shoved my hand into my employee’s underwear and fondled her sex organs without her permission, expressed or implied.’ ” He looked at Raymond curiously.

“Can we wrap this up?” Raymond asked.

The young man slipped the pen into his shirt pocket. Again, he studied Raymond, holding the document in his hand. He reached across his body into the pocket of his baggy jacket again, and this time, Raymond
knew
he was going for a gun. The instant he saw the peek of gleaming steel he fell to his knees and began to beg for his life. He shut his eyes, leaned forward, and crossed his arms over his head, waiting for the sound of the trigger to be cocked.

Raymond’s last earthly thought was:
Fuck everyone! If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a fucking thing!

Then came the sound. It was a gentle
ka-thud,
definitely not the expected click of a gun ready to fire. The sound was vaguely familiar to Raymond, nonetheless.

He lifted his head just in time to see the kid slip a notary public device back into his pocket. The sound he’d just heard was the embossing of the seal! Raymond’s mouth went dry.

“I know,” the kid said with fake pity, folding the affidavit and sliding it into his shirt pocket. “This must be a huge shock for you, Mr. Sandberg. Here, let me help you up.” He reached down with his hand extended.

Raymond reached up. He was so numb and weak that he could barely keep his balance as the kid pulled him to stand. It was then that Raymond noticed the girl walking up behind her brother. She had a blank look on her face and was dangling Raymond’s keys out in front of her as if she were delivering a dead mouse by the tail.

She dropped the keys into Raymond’s open hand.

“I see you’ve met my brother. He’s a vice president for commercial loans at Pacific Trust, and, of course, a licensed notary public.”

Raymond gulped.

“And this is just the beginning, boss,” she added brightly.

Raymond’s mouth hung open. “What in the fuck does that mean?”

“That means that I’ve already found six other women willing to join in a class action lawsuit against you.”

“You’re bluffing.”

She took a step closer. “But I’ll drop the whole matter if you can answer one simple little question correctly. Are you game?”

Raymond nodded, the knowledge that his life was over slowly seeping into his brain. He was totally, utterly fucked—unless he could answer her question. This went beyond vile. This was just plain cruel. “I’ll try my best,” he said.

She smiled. “What’s my name?”

“It’s Ri—” Raymond stopped. He shook his head, feeling as if he were about to cry. “I don’t actually know your name, darlin’.”

“It’s Dusty,” the girl’s brother said, opening the car door for him. The young man was kind enough to support Raymond by the elbow and help lower him into his seat. Then he twisted Raymond’s arm until it snapped.

*   *   *

“I sure hope you like desiccated venison stew.”

Roxie scrunched up her nose. “Sounds delish, but I think I’ll pass.” She sat down on one of the stools at the cooking island to watch Eli putter around the kitchen, but couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position. Up until a few hours ago, she’d had zero sexual encounters over the span of nearly thirteen months. But boy oh boy, had she just made up for lost time. Roxie smiled to herself, deciding a little temporary discomfort was a price she was happy to pay.

She watched Eli use potholders to remove a heavy-looking cast-iron Dutch oven from the big Aga range, then kick the oven door closed with his sock-covered foot.

“Just out of curiosity, how long was that supposed to cook, Eli?”

“Four hours.”

“How long was it in there?”

He smiled and shook his head. “About nine.”

She blew out air. “We’re lucky it didn’t catch fire.”

Eli tossed the potholders to the kitchen counter. He leaned his palms against its edge and doubled over in laughter. For a long moment, he simply let his head hang between his arms and laughed.

“What?” she finally asked.

He raised his head, a look of amazement on his face. “Roxie, baby, this whole place could have gone up in flames and I wouldn’t have noticed. Or much cared. I’m serious.”

She grinned at him. It really was embarrassing what had been going on in that bedroom for the last several hours. They’d completely lost themselves in each other. They seemed to have unleashed one another’s wild sides. And they couldn’t get enough. And it all left Roxie feeling joyful.

She also felt raw, and not just in her previously dormant body parts. She felt raw in her spirit, like all that lovemaking had laid her bare, made her new. Maybe she’d been bare even before they began to make love. After all, she’d revealed her worst fears to a man and given herself to him anyway, willingly and completely. Or maybe the raw feeling was normal after you’d had head-banging sex with someone you love—
who actually loves you back.

Roxie tried her best to hide the fact that she suddenly had trouble breathing. Her hands began to shake. Had she already decided that they loved each other?

“You’re a little hellcat,” Eli said, groaning as he stood straight.

“And you’re a maniac,” Roxie said. “I can’t believe I was worried you’d be boring in bed.”

“No kidding?”

“Absolutely.” She propped her elbows on the countertop and rested her chin in her hand. “I thought there was a chance you’d be … you know …
restrained,
the way you are when you’re dealing with unruly dogs and bitter women.”

She watched Eli bite the inside of his mouth, which meant he was trying not to burst out laughing. It was interesting, all the little things she knew about him already, along with the important stuff. Like how good it felt to be held in his arms, or how nothing was off-limits when they talked, and how being with Eli made her simply … happy.

“Restrained, huh? Interesting.” Eli turned his back to Roxie and opened the refrigerator, as if changing the subject. He put his weight on his left leg and tapped his foot, the way he did when he was mulling something over.

“You know, living out here is a little different than living in San Francisco. You can’t just decide at midnight that you’d like a big plate of chicken pad thai or a warm-from-the-oven French baguette and then run down the street to get it.”

Roxie chuckled. “What
can
you run down the street for around here?”

Eli looked over his shoulder. The light from the fridge glowed on his golden skin and danced in his green eyes. He was so strikingly handsome that she nearly gasped. He was her angel. Her teacher. Her lover. He was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

“Elk,” he said, unleashing one of his big, charming, effortless grins. “Plus coyote, deer, and sage hen, but you’re going to have to work hard for your supper if any of those items are on your menu.”

“So there’s no drive-through at the Kentucky Fried Sage Hen?”

“Unfortunately, no,” he said, laughing. Roxanne loved the way his eyes wrinkled up when he laughed.

“Is this your way of telling me I have to learn to hunt if I live here?”

Whoops.

Roxanne’s eyes widened in surprise at what she’d just said. Apparently, she was already so comfortable with Eli that she would just let any old thing fall out of her mouth. Still, she wasn’t looking forward to hearing how he’d react to something
so completely, stupefyingly premature
!

“Oh, jeesh,” she mumbled.

Eli shut the refrigerator door. He crossed the space between them and stood in front of her, his eyes soft and kind. He cupped her face in his hands. “Hunting is optional around here, but speaking your mind is required.”

She nodded quickly and tried to lower her eyes.

“So would you?” Eli leaned toward her. “Would you consider living here with me? At least part of the time?”

He tapped under her chin to get her to look up. He must have seen her anxiety level begin to rise because he kissed her softly, which made her forget what she’d been anxious about.

“If it helps put things in perspective, I don’t think the rules are ever going to apply to us, Rox.” His voice was warm and kind. “I have a feeling we’ll always do things our own way, however and whenever it feels right to us. It won’t matter what the world thinks. The only thing that will matter is how it feels to us.”

Roxie smiled softly. Relief flooded her. If what Eli said was correct, then throwing out all her promises to herself and falling for a man in a matter of days wouldn’t necessarily mean she was certifiable. “I like the idea of that.”

Eli reached for her and pressed her cheek against his warm, bare chest. She felt him kiss the top of her head and stroke her back. “Nobody has to make any decisions about anything right now. Except what to eat. I’m so hungry I could eat one of those elks from down the street, antlers and all.”

Chapter 16

Monday went by in a blur.

Roxie and Eli did their morning hike, this time heading west toward the part of the ranch Eli called “the feed bowl”—a dip in the earth where his cattle preferred to graze. Roxie got a quickie education in all things Angus, including how the weekly livestock auction worked, price per pound, and the butchering process, which effectively eliminated her craving for a double cheeseburger.

After a breakfast of baked apples and some of his rich, crumbly cornbread, Eli gave Roxie a reading assignment. He got her settled in the big leather couch in the main room and handed her a thick stack of printer paper he’d had bound and covered at a discount print shop. It was entitled “Stable Owner, Happy Dog—A Manual for Aspiring Pack Leaders.”

Roxanne smiled and flipped through the booklet. “You wrote this?” she asked, looking up at him as he hovered nearby.

“I had to. After my first few professional clients, I realized there was far too much information to pass on verbally.”

“So will I start working with Lilith today?” she asked.

“Not quite yet.”

“You want me to read this first?”

“Yep,” Eli said. “Please keep in mind that I’m no writer.”

“But I am,” Roxie said, wagging her eyebrows. “Maybe I could whip this into shape for you. I could make you more famous than you already are.”

Eli plopped down on the arm of the couch, intentionally sending Roxie toppling over on the cushions. They both laughed.

“This isn’t an editing assignment, Ms. Bloom,” he said, falling on top of her. “It’s for you to read, study, and make notes for any questions you have.”

She giggled. “You’re squishing me,” she managed to say, though hardly enough wind remained in her lungs to speak.

“My bad,” Eli said, wrapping his arms around her and rolling to the floor, his body cushioning her landing. Roxie tossed the book across the room.

“Hey, careful with that. It’s an original.”

“So are you,” she said, kissing him quickly before she straddled him and began unbuttoning his pale denim shirt to his waist. When her fingers began tugging at his cowboy belt buckle, Eli laughed. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you naked.”

“But it’s time for reading and reflection,” he said, the amusement in his eyes deepening his crow’s feet.

“Reflect on this.” Roxanne unzipped his jeans and pulled everything down his legs, scooting back as she went. Once she’d tossed everything to the side she crawled back up the length of his body and began kissing him again. She started at his luscious lips. She let her kisses trail along his smooth cheek, down to his chin and throat. She dragged her lips and tongue down across his chest, teasing his small, hard nipples, then continued down the center of his body. Long before she reached his belly button, she felt his erection prod her breasts.

With a series of teasing stops and starts, Roxanne let her mouth play with him. She licked the underside of his cock and let her tongue swirl around the thick, hard root. Then she slipped her lips around the head of his penis, softly suckling at him until he began to moan.

“Are you reflecting?” she asked.

Eli laughed so hard that Roxanne was treated to the sight of his cock dancing and the muscles of his hard belly rippling. He covered his face with his hands and groaned.

“You need to write your own book,” he said, his voice muffled by his palms.

“Oh, yeah?” she asked, putting her mouth back on him. In between licks and sucks and twirls she asked, “What would it be called? I wonder.”