Only His

“Want to get lunch?” he asked.

Her heart gave a little jump. Okay, it wasn’t a date, but it was close. “I’d like that.”

“Good.” He dropped his arm. “Let me go see if Cat wants to take a break.” He shook his head. “She has the classic artistic temperament. I never know when she’s going to go off on me, so don’t be surprised if you hear a lot of screaming.”

He sounded more excited than upset by the prospect.

“Cat?” she asked, remembering the female welder.

But Tucker was already gone, walking quickly into the building.

Nevada walked to the door and watched as he gracefully climbed the scaffolding. When he reached the welder, he touched her on the shoulder. The sparks stopped and the woman removed her protective gear.

Even from all the way across the building, Nevada could tell she was beautiful. Long, dark hair tumbled halfway down her back in cascading waves. A classically beautiful face—wide eyes, high cheekbones and a full mouth. The woman stepped out of a jumpsuit, revealing a cropped T-shirt and shorts, long, perfect legs and a waist small enough to belong on a model.

She and Tucker descended the scaffolding together.

Once again Nevada was unable to move, but it wasn’t Tucker who held her in place—it was her own sense of insignificance. The woman was older than Nevada, and probably a couple of years older than Tucker. Even casually dressed, she had an air of sophistication. Men wrote songs for women like that, went to war for them, loved them.

As the couple approached, Nevada wanted to run. She forced herself to stand there, knowing she would probably trip over her own feet if she tried to get away.

“So, you’re Tucker’s friend,” the woman said, her voice low and sultry, with a slight accent. “I’m delighted to finally meet you. I’m Caterina Stoicasescu.” She held out her long, slender hand. “Nevada Hendrix.”

Nevada shook the strong, scarred hand, doing her best to keep her mouth from hanging open. Her gaze went from the woman to the sculpture and back.

Caterina Stoicasescu? She was famous all the way to Fool’s Gold. Talented, gifted. She’d been discovered when she was little. Maybe before she was a teenager. Her sculptures were supposed to be brilliant beyond words. Nevada knew her work was displayed all over the world, that Caterina was well-known and wealthy.

“You are from a small town, yes?” Caterina asked.

“Fool’s Gold. It’s in the Sierra Nevada foothills. It’s pretty. Quaint. Probably different from your regular life.”

Caterina smiled, her piercing green eyes tilting up at the corners. “So you’ve heard of me. That’s good.”

“I’m not an expert, of course, but yes. Your work …” She motioned to the sculpture. “It’s very beautiful.”

Caterina moved next to her and they both faced the piece. “Tell me. What does it make you feel?”

Nevada swallowed. “I, um … I don’t really know what you’re asking.”

“When you look at it, what do you think? What did you think when you first saw it?”

“I’m an engineering student,” she began, feeling herself blush. She glanced at Tucker, hoping he would rescue her, but he wasn’t looking at her. Instead his gaze was locked on the other woman.

“You’re smart, I can tell. What did you feel?”

Nevada swallowed. “Sad. Like something bad had happened.”

Caterina threw up her hands and turned in a circle. “Yes. That is it exactly.” She grabbed Nevada by the shoulders and kissed her on each cheek. “Thank you.”

Nevada blinked a couple of times. “You’re welcome, Ms. Stoicasescu.”

“Cat, please. All my friends call me that.” She linked arms with Nevada and motioned to the metal. “It is the end of war. Not something likely to happen, but I made it as a reminder of the pain we all feel. I didn’t plan what it would be. I don’t. I am only the vessel. The art comes through me.”

Cat turned to her. “So, tell me everything about yourself. I know we are going to be great friends.”

Nevada was taken aback. “What do you want to know?”

“All. Start at the beginning. I am from Romania. Do you have brothers or sisters? Yes, you must because that’s how Tucker knows you. We must do something together soon. Perhaps go to a party.”

“I thought we could get lunch,” Tucker told her.

Cat released Nevada and turned to him. Her head tilted slightly, causing her blue-black hair to tumble over one shoulder.

“I thought we would stay in.”

The simple words were quietly spoken, yet when Cat said them, everything changed. Electricity and heat filled the air. Nevada had been staring at Tucker, so she saw his eyes dilate and his shoulders stiffen.

Still staring at the beautifully exotic woman between them, Tucker said, “Rain check, Nevada?”

Even with her complete lack of experience when it came to men and sex, Nevada knew what had happened. What would happen the second she left. They would make love, right there, on the floor. Because they were together and Cat was the kind of woman who inspired a man to incredible passion.

“Sure,” she whispered, already heading for the door.

She felt foolish and young and out of place. Her heart ached as she was forced to accept that Tucker hadn’t felt the connection. He thought of her as Ethan’s baby sister. He loved Cat.

When she stepped outside, her eyes burned in the bright sunlight. She wanted to go back, to tell him he was wrong. That he should give her a chance.

She turned then, new feelings giving her courage, only to see that Cat and Tucker were already in each other’s arms. Their kiss was more intense, more passionate than anything she’d ever seen or imagined. His hands roamed her body, touching, claiming.

Embarrassed, Nevada closed the door behind her and hurried to her truck. Once she’d driven away, she told herself it didn’t matter. That she would never see Tucker again. Whatever she’d felt for him would fade as quickly as it had come. In a couple of days she would forget all about him.

CHAPTER THREE

“YOU KNOW I DON’T LIKE TO INTERFERE,” Denise Hendrix said as she poured chocolate chips into a bowl.

“If only that were true.” Nevada leaned against the counter and watched her mother mix up cookie batter. “You love to interfere.”

“No. I love to be right.” Her mother smiled at her. “There’s a difference.”

“A subtle one.”

They were in her mother’s kitchen, at the Hendrix family home. Nevada had grown up here. There had been various renovations over the years, the most recent a kitchen remodel, but nothing could ever change the fact that this was the home of her heart.

Her mother took the bowl to the cookie sheets and began scooping batter into neat rows. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s not much to say. The interview went badly. I was expecting Elliot Janack and I got Tucker instead.”

“I thought you liked Tucker.”