Notorious (10 page)

He didn't reappear while she showered, washed and dried her hair, and put on her next killer outfit, stretch capris and a halter top that left her midriff bare.

When she was dressed she followed the scent of coffee to the living room and discovered him there with a cup in his hand and a room-service tray on one of the driftwood-and-stone end tables.

He glanced at her outfit and sighed. “Not gonna let up on me, are you?”

She laughed at the pitiful resignation in his voice. “Noah, I am going to have you before this weekend is over. You know it and I know it, so you might as well give in and get it over with.”

He put down his cup and stood. “And I'm telling you that you're wrong. I intend to prove to you that there's at least one guy out there—namely me—who is interested in you without needing to have your body as part of the arrangement.”

She had to admit the concept was touching. Doomed to fail, but touching, anyway. “And what will that accomplish?”

He took a deep breath. “Now, don't take this wrong, but I'm hoping it will convince you to do something with your life that doesn't involve sex or the suggestion of sex.”

“I see.” So he was determined to sacrifice himself so that she'd get her head screwed on straight. And touching or not, his attitude was also pretty damn superior. He thought he
knew what was good for her. She simply had to foil his plan, if only to make him a little more humble. Noah had a lot of good points, but humility wasn't one of them.

“I ordered up a few things.” He gestured toward the tray. “Help yourself while I shave and shower. We need to leave for the rehearsal in twenty minutes.”

She gazed at him. Maybe tomorrow morning she'd find out what his beard felt like against her skin while he kissed her all over. No use trying to organize such a maneuver now and make him late for the rehearsal.

“How are you going to shave?” she asked, remembering that he hadn't replaced any of his toiletries.

He picked up a small zippered pouch from beside the breakfast tray and started toward the footbridge. “I asked them to send up the basics so I could shave and brush my teeth.”

“You'd have been welcome to borrow my toothbrush.” She held her ground and made him walk around her to get to the footbridge. “Once a guy's had his tongue in my mouth, sharing a toothbrush doesn't seem like a big deal.”

“That won't be happening again,” he muttered as he stomped over the bridge.

“Pity. You're very good with your tongue when it comes to kissing. I was hoping to find out if you're as talented when you use it elsewhere.”

His groan as he went into the bedroom made her smile.

 

I
F
N
OAH HAD EXPECTED
any awkwardness between Keely and his friends, he'd been mistaken. During the rehearsal and the lunch that followed, Keely seemed to be getting along well with everyone. She made a special effort to charm both Brandon's and Jenny's parents and he remembered something he'd forgotten about Keely—she could talk to literally anyone.

The meal was served at a long table at the hotel's trendy
Coral Reef restaurant, where the waitresses dressed in tight scuba gear and the menu included mostly fish. In the hubbub of getting seated, Noah was separated from Keely, who ended up at the opposite end of the table. His position allowed him to observe her technique for drawing people out. No question about it—she had quite a talent for that.

Once the food arrived, Clint's wife, Sharon, squeezed lemon juice on her tuna and accidentally shot some down Keely's front. Keely laughed and patted her chest, spreading the drops around. “Squirt some more over here. I've always wanted to smell like a freshly waxed table.”

Sharon grinned. “You know, so have I,” she said, and baptized herself, too.

Suddenly lemon wedges were at a premium as everybody started spraying juice around. Keely gave as good as she got, never for a minute seeming to consider that she barely knew these people she was tagging with streams of juice. It turned into a raucous lunch, and before it was over, Keely was as much a part of the group as if she'd been around for years.

And for all the seductive moves she'd made when they were alone, in public she acted like Noah's kid sister. In fact, she behaved as if sex was the farthest thing from her mind. A few suggestive jokes made their way around the long luncheon table, but none of them started with Keely. She laughed along with everyone else, but she didn't take the opportunity to send him one of those smoldering looks he'd been getting whenever they were alone.

In some ways he was a little disappointed about that. He had to admit that having Keely come on to him all the time had been damn good for his ego. He found himself becoming impatient for the lunch to end so he could have her to himself again. They'd discuss her job possibilities, of course. He'd realized that whatever she did should include interacting with people. Her small-town background and outgoing personality made her naturally good with people.

He was going through some options in his mind and anticipating a return to the suite with Keely when Jenny shot down his plans.

Standing, she turned to Keely. “Barb, Sharon, Tina and I have appointments for a manicure and pedicure at the hotel salon,” Jenny said. “You have to come with us and tell us every embarrassing story you can remember about Noah. And if you want a manicure and pedicure, I'm sure the salon can squeeze in one more person. We've monopolized them for the afternoon, anyway.”

“Sounds great,” Keely said with a smile as she left the table and headed out with the women. Almost as an afterthought she turned and waggled her fingers at Noah. “See you later, big guy”

“What a terrific person she is,” Brandon said after the women had left. “But I don't get this platonic thing you two have going.”

“Yeah,” Clint said. “You have to work yourself past that one, buddy. I realize you two grew up together, but the point is, you did grow up. And so did she.”

Greg sighed wistfully. “Did she ever.” Then he glanced down the table at the two dads sitting there. “I mean that in the most respectful way. I'm crazy about my wife.”

Jenny's father chuckled. “We're all crazy about our wives. But when a woman like Keely comes along, you'd have to be dead not to notice her.”

“Amen to that,” Brandon's dad said. “I keep thinking she looks familiar, somehow. Has she been in commercials or something like that?”

“Not that I know of,” Noah said. But that was another idea to add to his list of career choices. He wondered if Keely had ever tried to break into television.

“I know what you mean about her looking familiar,” Clint chimed in. “I've had the feeling I've seen her before, too.”

Noah didn't want any of the men to keep following that
line of thought. “Maybe it's because she looks like Julia Roberts,” he said.

“Well, she does, but that's not why,” Brandon's father said. “I could swear I've seen her before. Even the name sounds like one I've heard. Give me some time. Before the weekend is over I'll make the connection.”

Noah sincerely hoped not. Now was not the time for anyone to remember seeing Keely with a staple in her navel.

“Hey, who's ready to hit the beach?” Brandon asked, and the party started to break up.

As the men all prepared to leave the restaurant, Clint nudged Noah in the ribs and spoke in an undertone. “I hope before the weekend is over you'll be able to make a connection, too, buddy. And I'm not talking about a mental connection, either.”

K
EELY COULDN'T REMEMBER
the last time she'd hung out with married women, and apparently she'd been guilty of some stereotyping. Jenny, Barb, Sharon and Tina didn't remotely resemble Betty Crocker. Instead of trading recipes, these women wanted to trade sexual fantasies as they sat around taking turns having their toenails and fingernails buffed and polished.

“We spent the afternoon exchanging fantasies before Tina and Greg's wedding last year,” Jenny explained to Keely. The bride sat with both feet in sudsy, whirling water in preparation for her pedicure. “And we all promised to do it again at my wedding. It's a lot more fun than having a surprise stripper, and we all get to play.”

Keely nodded. “I like it.”

“It's up to you if you want to tell us one of yours,” Jenny added. “You can think about whether you want to or not while you're listening. Okay, here's mine.”

Trying not to let her mouth drop open, Keely heard Jenny—a blonde with innocent-looking blue eyes—describe her fantasy of being carried off by a sheik and sold into sexual bondage. While Josette buffed and massaged Jenny's feet with some sort of tangy-scented herbal cream, Jenny provided details of what the bondage would involve. When she was finished, everyone, including Keely, applauded.

“Me, next!” Tina said, raising the hand that had recently been tipped with Mango Madness. “Ooh, I love this one I
came up with. Here goes.” An olive-skinned Italian beauty, Tina sketched a scene in which she commanded male slaves to do her bidding. And she had an impressive list of duties for them to perform.

Keely joined in the applause for this one too and wondered if she'd forever associate the bracing smell of nail polish with women's sexual daydreams. She wished she could take notes. An article on female fantasies might be an excellent project for
Attitude!
magazine.

Then Sharon, a well-rounded brunette, detailed a fantasy that involved making love to a handsome stranger in the back of a moving limousine. Sharon was followed in the rotation by Barb, a tall woman with black hair. Barb wanted to be rescued from a burning house while wearing a negligee and then afterward to have sex with each of the gorgeous firemen as an expression of her gratitude.

“Do you want to tell us one?” Jenny asked, turning to Keely after Barb had finished and collected her applause. “You don't have to, but it's fun.”

“I can see that.” Keely was rethinking her assumption that marriage dried up your sexual imagination. As the only single woman there, she felt obligated to hold up her end of the game. “How's this? I am a beautiful queen, and my page is in love with me but he dares not show it because of his lowly station. I figure out that he's in love with me, so I begin subtly coming on to him.”

“Oh, that's good,” Jenny said. “And slowly he begins to crack.”

“Right,” Keely said. “And, being a normal man, eventually he can't help himself and he has to have me, but he knows he could be killed for it. So he risks his life to make love to me. At night. In the throne room. And it's raining outside.” She found herself getting into the fantasy.

“And of course you tolerate it,” Sharon said, her dimples flashing.

“Well, yeah,” Keely replied. “I mean, the guy is hung like a horse.”

Jenny laughed. “Naturally. And you don't have him killed.”

“No, I only threaten it if he doesn't do his level best to please me. Night after night after night.”

“Excellent!” Tina said. “He either produces multiple orgasms, or off with his head!”

By this time both manicurists were begging to add their fantasies to the collection, and then everyone decided they needed a second round.

Keely managed to come up with a second fantasy, but she loved the first one far more. And it wouldn't take a degree in psychology to figure out why, either. Oh, yes. Noah's ultimate surrender to his desire would be sweet.

“So, Keely, what was it like growing up with Noah?” Jenny asked as the women sat in the salon letting their fingernails and toenails dry.

Keely thought about that as she admired her fingers and toes tipped with Lotus Blossom Pink. “Well, his younger brother, Jonas, and I were the ones who always got into trouble, and Noah had to bail us out so we wouldn't get busted. Like the time Jonas and I took the tractor for a joyride before either of us knew how to drive it. We ended up in a ditch, of course, and broke some part or other. Noah used his dad's truck to pull the tractor out and then told his dad that he'd put the tractor in the ditch, not me and Jonas.”

“I can picture Noah doing that.” Tina wiggled her toes. “He seems like the protective type. So were you two ever involved?”

“Uh, not really.”

“She's blushing!” Jenny said. “Dish, girl!”

Keely couldn't believe that she'd given herself away like that. “It was only kid stuff. You know, down by the barn. Nothing ever came of it.”

Tina glanced at Keely. “I think something could come of
it now. If you're interested, that is. He looks at you like a chocoholic would look at a box of Godiva.”

Jenny laughed. “I'll bet all the guys do when they think we don't notice. That's a killer bod you have there, chick.”

Keely felt her blush deepen. “Oh, this old thing. I've had it for ages.”

“You wear it well,” Tina said with a nod. “And I still say Noah's interested. I mean,
really
interested.”

“Yeah, but he doesn't want to be,” Keely said before she could stop herself.

Sharon's brown eyes opened wide. “Why ever not?”

Keely sighed. She hadn't meant to say even that much, but these women had a way of making her forget to guard her words. “He might be sexually interested, but he doesn't want to act on that because nothing could ever come of it and he can't just walk away from me when it's over. My dad and sister still work for him, and his brother is marrying my sister. So it's complicated.”

“Back up a minute,” Jenny said. “Why couldn't anything ever come of it?”

“Because.” She paused and glanced around at these funny, intelligent women, all of them probably living out in the sticks somewhere with their cowboy husbands. “Don't take this wrong. I think you guys are fantastic. But I'm not the type to be a ranch wife.”

Jenny burst out laughing. “Oh, yeah. The ranch wife. That wholesome woman who never wears makeup and brings in fresh eggs from the chicken coop every morning.”

Tina joined in the laughter. “Oh, yeah, her. The one who bakes all her own bread and whips up gingham curtains for every blessed window in the house. Oh, and she makes tablecloths and napkins, too, to match the curtains.”

“Don't forget putting up the preserves and making the quilts,” Sharon added with a grin. “And helping with the branding in the spring and the roundup in the fall.”

“And in between times she drives all over the countryside doctoring the sick and cheering the infirm,” Barb said.

Jenny glanced at Keely, her blue eyes twinkling. “That's the one you're thinking of, right? Martha Stewart in boots and spurs?”

“I guess. I mean, maybe your picture is a little extreme, but that's about the size of it.”

“Well, the thing is, that ranch woman—” Jenny winked at her sister and two friends.

“She's so last century!”
the women shouted in unison.

“Long live the new ranch wife!” Jenny shouted, punching a fist in the air. “She gets pedicures!”

“She serves fast food!” Barb raised her own fist.

“She shops at Nordstrom's!” Tina waved a fist in the air.

“She hires a cleaning service!” Sharon put both fists in the air and leaped up to dance around the salon, Rocky style.

Keely laughed in delight. “Good for you. I'm impressed. Obviously you all have it together. But you've never lived in Saguaro Junction.”

“I don't think the place matters,” Jenny said. “Women everywhere are changing. It's the twenty-first century, and drudges are out of fashion. Hey, if a woman
likes
doing some of that, great. But you can live on a ranch and still have lots of the goodies of life. I don't plan on going anywhere
near
a chicken coop. Times have changed.”

Keely still had trouble picturing such liberation on the Twin Boulders Ranch. “Somebody ought to tell that to Noah Garfield.”

“Yep,” Jenny agreed. “And I think you're just the gal to do it.”

The salon party broke up after that. Keely excused herself so that she could use the second half of the afternoon to finish up the interviews for her magazine article. Because she didn't have time to conduct them in person, she had to risk using her cell phone. To make sure she wouldn't be caught doing
that, she walked to the hotel next door and found a relatively quiet nook in the coffee shop.

On the way out of the hotel she passed a boutique that displayed a stunning dress in the window. Realizing that she needed something a bit more dressy for the wedding, she went inside. While trying it on, she gazed at herself in the mirror. Was this the image of the new, liberated ranch wife? Could a ranch wife be someone who'd posed nude for a men's magazine?

Of course not. And she had no business thinking like that, anyway. No matter how the image had changed, it still involved the tedium of marriage, that boring institution that sucked the life right out of a sexual relationship, right? But the women she'd met today didn't seem to be sucked dry. They were juicy ladies. And getting into bed with Noah every night didn't sound like such a bad deal, either.

Yeah, like he'd ask her to consider that option. The man didn't want to let himself climb into bed with her tonight, let alone for the rest of his life.

But he
would
go to bed with her tonight. She turned in front of the mirror. Definitely.

 

N
OAH BOUGHT HIMSELF
a pair of shorts so he could spend the afternoon playing volleyball on the resort's sand court with the guys. Throwing himself into the physical activity felt great. Maybe if he played hard enough, maybe if he spent the whole afternoon getting hot, sweaty and tired, he'd be too exhausted to be tempted by Keely in the suite tonight after the wedding.

He didn't go back to the suite until he had to change into his tux. Bracing himself for Keely to be parading around in something sexy or in nothing at all, he discovered she wasn't even there.

While he was taking his shower and getting dressed, he expected her to show up at any moment. Eventually his curiosity turned to irritation. She'd been invited to this wedding,
and she'd damn sure better not be late. Then his irritation changed to concern. What if she'd gone back to the topless bar and taken that job, after all?

When he'd seen her last she was headed off toward the hotel's salon, but maybe she'd ducked out of that. He almost called Greg and Tina's room to find out if Tina knew where Keely might be. But he didn't really want to do that.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, he struggled with his bow tie. In the few times he'd ever worn a tux, he'd never really learned how to tie the damn thing. With a growl of frustration, he pulled it loose and started over.

A second before Keely spoke, he smelled her raspberry lotion. Instantly his groin tightened.

“Need some help, cowboy?”

He looked in the mirror and she was reflected there, leaning casually in the wide arch separating the bedroom and the bathroom.

Her purse was slung over her shoulder and a shopping bag dangled from her hand. She looked as if she'd been outside—her hair was tousled and her cheeks were pink from the heat. She was also breathing fast, despite her relaxed pose against the doorway. The crocheted halter top she wore quivered with each breath she took, and he wondered if she'd hurried up here because she was running late or because she was eager to see him again.

“That bow tie seems to be getting the better of you,” she said. “Don't you have to be down there in a few minutes?”

“Yep.” He met her gaze in the mirror and weighed the risk of having her help him tie it. “Are you going to have time to get ready?”

“Sure. I have at least a half hour more than you do. I'll get dressed after you leave. But you can't go with your tie looking like that.” She put down her purse and her shopping bag and came toward him. “Turn around and let me see what I can do.”

He assumed she'd learned the skill from hanging out with
guys who regularly wore these monkey suits. Knowing Keely, she might be planning to turn this into a very seductive operation. Filled with misgivings, he faced her. “How was the manicure session?”

“Lotus Blossom Pink.” She held up both hands to show him her nails.

They were covered in a pearly color that reminded him of the inside of a seashell. Or the inside curve of her ear. Or the inside of…places he'd do well not to think about. Damn, but she smelled good.