Barbara Dunlop - An Intimate Bargain

“Egomaniac.”

“Am I wrong?”

She played dumb. “About what?”

He glanced at the clock. “About us wanting to stop time.”

She sobered. Then she shook her head. He wasn’t wrong. But that didn’t change anything. “It’s a stolen night,” she reminded him. They both had places to go and things to do.

“When do you have to leave?”

“Early.” She was meeting her brother at the campaign office to close things up before she drove back to the ranch.

Lucky cradled her cheek, placing a long, tender kiss on her swollen lips. When it ended, his arm eased around the small of her back. “But not yet?”

“Not yet,” she agreed, desire rising inside her.

He kissed her again, and again, longer and sweeter each time.

“Tell me your name,” he demanded.

She shook her head.

“I need to know.” He drew back, obviously determined to withhold more kisses until she answered.

Instead, she reached up, slipping her arms around his neck.

He tensed against her pull, resisting, but then he gave in, allowing her to bring him in for a kiss. She twined her naked body around his.

“Oh, Doll-Face,” he groaned, capitulating to their passion. He wrapped his strong arms fully around her, holding her close and igniting a new burn deep inside.

* * *

“There you are, Abby.” Abigail’s oldest brother, Seth, mayor-elect of Lyndon City, zeroed in on her as she entered the campaign office on Main Street.

Cardboard boxes covered every available surface, stuffed with leftover posters, flyers, buttons and campaign literature. Half a dozen campaign volunteers were carting boxes and other materials out the back door to waiting pickup trucks, while the staffers who would form the core of Seth’s mayoral staff clicked away on their laptop computers or talked on telephones.

Seth tucked a pen into his shirt pocket as he moved across the storefront shop toward her. “I didn’t see you at the fireworks last night.”

“Weren’t they great?” she asked, avoiding any further explanation of where she’d been.

“The good folks of Lyndon know how to do it up right,” he agreed.

She gave him a quick hug. “The good folks of Lyndon are excited about their new mayor.”

Seth pulled back with a grin. “The display was planned weeks before the votes were cast.”

She winked at him. “But I’m sure they’d have canceled if you hadn’t won.”

He scoffed out a laugh. “Since we both know you’re not naive, I’m going to assume that’s blind loyalty talking.”

“That’s supreme confidence talking.” She patted him on the shoulder as she glanced around the messy office. “You need any help here?” She was more than a little anxious to get herself out of town. Last night Lucky had said he was just passing through Lyndon. He might very well have left town already. But she didn’t want to risk running into him.

She’d sneaked out of his hotel room and back to hers as soon as he fell asleep last night. Though the soft bed, the thick quilt and Lucky’s warm, strong body had been powerful draws, she hadn’t wanted to risk facing him in the morning. Better to leave things on a high note. A very high note. Wow, had that ever been a high note.

“Abby?” Seth prompted, waving his palm in front of her face.

“The financial records?”

“What about them?”

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing.”

Seth peered at her curiously. “I just asked if you could do a double check on the donation receipts. And Lisa needs a hand with the database.”

At the sound of her name, Lisa Thompson glanced up from a crowded desk in one corner of the room. “I want to make sure we have a clean backup copy before I delete all the information from the laptop. I’m planning to use it in the mayor’s office, so I have to get rid of all the campaign records.”

“Happy to help out,” Abigail agreed, telling herself the odds of seeing Lucky were low, particularly if she was hidden away in the back of the campaign office. She made her way across the room, weaving around the mess of chairs, desks, boxes and trash bins.

Seth’s cell phone rang, and he moved to a quiet corner near the back exit to answer the call.

Lisa, blonde, petite, freckled and perky, tracked Abigail’s progress from her office chair.

She waited until Abigail sat down and spun the chair, then she wheeled herself to face her. “So, what happened?” she demanded in a conspiratorial undertone.

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s blatantly obvious you got laid last night.”

“What?” Abigail blurted, glancing swiftly around, making sure nobody could overhear them.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Lisa smacked her palm down on the padded arm of Abigail’s chair.

“I did not-”

“And don’t you dare lie to me either.” Lisa rocked back and crossed her arms over her gray Colorado Lions T-shirt, green eyes narrowing. Her voice stayed low. “Your cheeks are flushed. Your eyes are glowing gold. And there’s a spring in your step that wasn’t there at the party. Plus, you disappeared before ten last night, and I never saw you again. Neither did anyone else. Now, give.”

Abigail hesitated. She wanted to lie, but she knew she was trapped. Lisa had her dead to rights.

Obviously taking Abigail’s silence as an admission, Lisa grinned and leaned closer still. “Details, please.”

Abigail sent a worried glance toward Seth. “Don’t you dare tell-”

“I’m not going to tell anybody. I’m not a gossip.”

Abigail knew it was true. Lisa would be Seth’s executive assistant in the mayor’s office, in part because of her brilliance and hard work, but also because they’d learned she was the soul of discretion. She and Abigail had become quite close over the course of the campaign.

“So, what happened?” Lisa hissed. “Who was he?”

“Nobody you know.”

“How can you say that? I know lots of people. I’ve met half the town in the last three months.”

“He’s not from here.”

“Ooh.” Lisa’s eyes sparkled. “Where’s he from? What’s he do? What’s his name? Is he hot?”

“I don’t know.”

Lisa drew back. “You don’t know if he’s hot?”

“I don’t know his name,” Abigail admitted sheepishly. “I don’t know what he does. And I don’t know where he’s from.”

Lisa’s mouth opened, then her expression turned positively gleeful. “You had a one-night stand with a stranger?”

Abigail lowered her own voice even further. “Yes.”

Lisa’s hand tightened on Abigail’s arm, as if to hold her in place. “Was he hot?”

“Yes.” Hot didn’t begin to describe Lucky. In fact, even now, Abigail’s body responded with an embarrassing level of arousal at the mere memory of Lucky naked, laconic, gazing at her with that lazy half smile.

“You go, Abby!”

“Shh.”

“Yes. Of course. Wow. No wonder you don’t want to tell Seth.”

“I don’t want to tell anyone.”

Lisa gave a series of rapid nods. “Got it. But if you don’t know his name, how are you going to see him again?”

“I’m not.” Abigail wouldn’t. She couldn’t. No matter how much she wished she could.

“But if he’s hot and, well, if the look in your eyes is anything to go by, maybe you want to-”

“Lisa, look up the definition of one-night stand.”

“One-night stands can turn into something else, you know.”

Abigail coughed on a laugh, seizing on the chance to turn the tables. “Actually, I wouldn’t know. Would you?”

Lisa wrinkled her nose in the air. “No. Not that there’s anything wrong in it. Not with the right person. You know, in the right circumstance.”

“Last night was the right circumstance.” Abigail wasn’t going to regret last night. She refused to regret last night.

She’d never met a man remotely like Lucky. The memory of his voice made her tingle, and the thought of his kisses brought a flood of desire. Her real world was closing in fast, dragging her back into its clutches, while the exhilarating escape with Lucky secretly pulsed just below her skin. She’d lock it away where no one could see, but where she could pull it out to relive that treasured night over and over again.

Fall was on its way to Lyndon Valley. Work on the ranch would begin in earnest now, starting with the roundup. But when the wind howled down from the Rockies, or when she was bone tired out on the range, she’d remember the feel of Lucky’s strong arms around her, the heat of his body against her, his whispered words, his endearing sense of humor and the way he’d made her feel like the only woman in the world.

The Craig Mountain Brewery was tucked in the mountains above the picturesque shores of Lake Patricia, an hour north of Lyndon City. Built of stone and mortar, around 1850, in the style of British castles, Craig Mountain had started life as a manor house for a British lord, a remittance man, a reprobate whose family had paid him handsomely to leave England and never return.

The brewery manager, Lucas Payton, shared the story of Lord Ashton with Zach while the two men made their way along the covered pathway that connected the original castle, which was now mostly offices, to the newer industrial complex housing the warehouse and brewery, with its tanks, filtration systems and bottling line.

“They say Ashton bribed a railroad official for information on the planned railway line,” Lucas continued, tone animated. “Whether the official didn’t know the real route, or he simply lied for reasons of his own, nobody ever found out. But he took the money and left the state, while Ashton built his house a hundred miles in the wrong direction.”

“You a history buff?” asked Zach.

Lucas had worked for DFB for three years now. The two men had met on several occasions when Lucas traveled to Houston for company meetings. But they’d always talked shop, and it had always been amongst a larger group of people.