Big Sky Seduction

FAITH, GLORIA’S ASSISTANT stager and a student of Black Sect Tantric Buddhist Feng Shui—most people called it BTB, but Faith liked to say the whole damn name at least once a day—walked into the bedroom of the house they were contracted to stage, and handed her the phone. “There’s a Mr. Cross on the line for you.”

“Cross?” Why did that name sound familiar? She took the phone. “Hello?”

“Heya, Red. How you doing?”

Dillon Cross.

No. Just no.

She hung up and handed the phone back to her assistant.

“Who was that?”

“Some stupid cowboy from Wyoming.” She pretended to go back to surveying the room when really all she could think was, why was Dillon Cross calling her? It had been three months. Not that she’d been keeping track, or that she’d wanted him to call. She hadn’t.

At all.

The fact that he hadn’t tried to get in touch with her just supported her opinion of him as a macho jerk, which was the only reason she’d kept track.

Faith arched a brow. “And why is a stupid cowboy from Wyoming calling you?”

“No reason.” She made a dismissive gesture. “Now, can you help me with this bed? It needs to face the door.”

But Faith was not easily distracted. Of course she wasn’t. “And if it’s, no reason, why did you just hang up on him?”

Gloria glared at Faith, the kind of expression that should tell an employee to drop a subject. But Faith was not a typical employee. “Why’d you hang up?”

“Because I didn’t want to speak to him.”

“Why?”

“I think I’ve covered that point already. He’s a cowboy. From Wyoming.”

“You have a very interesting aura going on right now.” Faith came closer, inspecting.

The only way to distract her was to change the subject to feng shui. “It’s this room. It’s all wrong.” Gloria indicated the cluttered placement of the furniture. “The bed’s facing the wrong way, the Chi’s interrupted by the big bureau. The mirror is reflecting outside. It’s a disaster.” She crouched down and started tugging on the bed frame. “Give me a hand. This thing is heavy.”

“You slept with him.”

Dammit!

She stood, wiping her palms on the front of her pants. “Maybe. So what?”

Faith tapped something into the phone, held it to her ear and then said, “Oh, hi. Sorry. We got disconnected. Was there something I can help you with?”

“Faith,” Gloria whisper-yelled.

“Gloria? Sure. She’s right here.” Faith handed her the phone again. “Speak to him. It’s the only way to clear this up.” She made a fuzzy gesture at Gloria’s torso. “You’re all...muddy.”

Rolling her eyes, Gloria took the phone but placed it next to her chest, covering the mic because Faith stood exactly where she was, waiting to listen in. She waved her off, mouthing the words, “Go away.”

Saluting, Faith left and Gloria raised the phone to her ear. She took a deep breath and then huffed it out. “Dillon. What can I do for you?”

“Are you asking for real? Because the list is long.” His voice was deep and suggestive. He also sounded strangely out of breath, reminding her of a very vigorous, very intimate moment she’d spent a good portion of the past three months trying to forget. So far she’d been unsuccessful.

“Why are you calling?” She bit her thumbnail, realized what she was doing and stopped.

“I’m in town, doing some business, visiting my cousins. Thought I’d give you a call. See if you wanted to get together.”

“Really.” She chewed the inside of her lip, realized what she was doing and stopped.

“Uh-huh. Coffee. Dinner. Or...somethin’.”

“I’m not a hook-up girl, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“Never said you were. Just, we had some fun last time I was here,” he drawled. Slow and easy. Reminding her of the movement of his tongue against her lips and in her mouth.

Mmm.

Ugh!

“Kind of hoped we could recapture it. You know?”

“No, thanks.”

“Why?”

“Do you want an honest answer?”

“Yes.”

“What happened between us was desperation.” She gnawed her lower lip.

He chuckled. That was not the response she was going for.

“I’m not interested in whatever it is you have in mind,” she hurried on.

“You don’t even know what I have in mind. Aren’t you curious? Even a little?”

She shut her eyes, sucking her whole top lip into her mouth while erratic visions of nakedness popped into her head.

She was not curious. Not one little bit. Honest she wasn’t.

His voice began, soft and low, reminding her of the naughty whispers from that night. “I’m going to take your clothes off, nice and slow, kissing you as I go. Tasting every inch of you...”

No.

“Goodbye, Dillon. Don’t call me again. You want a booty call, try someone else.” She hung up, dropped the phone on the bed—the one that was positioned all wrong—and expelled the big breath she’d been holding.