The problem was, he had no idea how he was going to handle having her in town. He’d promised her it would be easy to keep things professional, but he’d pretended a confidence he didn’t have. All the attraction he’d felt that night in Phoenix was still there, sharpening his senses the moment she’d walked into his office, making him hyperaware of every one of her movements, every seductive curve under that power suit she wore.
Which made the reason she was here even worse. Windmills. Looking out to the plains beyond his ranch, he tried to imagine them speckled with huge, white turbines and instantly all the wild emptiness was domesticated and destroyed. It was awful enough to imagine—he couldn’t allow it to happen.
Slaid drained the bottle and stuck it back in his pocket, taking one last look at the view. There was dinner to cook, dishes to clean, homework to help with and a few rounds of a video game to play before Devin went to bed. Then he needed to rewrite the agenda for next week’s city council meeting to make sure the wind farm was on it—there’d be a lot to discuss.
It would be a busy night, but he kind of liked it that way. Staying busy kept him from thinking too much. He’d learned that trick after Jeannette had left Benson, and it seemed as though he would need it again now that Tess Cole had arrived.
TESS WASN’T PREPARED for a Jeep that looked like an ice sculpture. With a pang of longing, she pictured her underground parking space in San Francisco, where even on the rare frosty morning she never had to worry about a frozen car. Reluctantly she opened her wallet and stared at her rainbow assortment of credit cards, wondering which one she could sacrifice as an ice scraper. The Saks Fifth Avenue card was nice and thick and would work the best, but she didn’t want to risk ruining it. Same with Bloomingdale’s. And there was no way she’d sacrifice Nordstrom—their annual shoe sale was coming up.
She finally settled for Talbots and started scraping at the frosted windshield. The ice came off in a spray coating her bare skin. “Ow!” she exclaimed and pulled her hand away abruptly, shaking it to try to get the frost off and the heat back in.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t bring gloves?” The deep voice had her whirling to confront the mayor. He looked warm and comfortable, his thick parka advertising the fact that he was prepared for the weather. The battered leather cowboy hat on his head was one more reminder that she’d left San Francisco far behind.
“It’s probably seventy degrees at home today,” she said by way of an answer.
“It’s seventy degrees in San Francisco most days. Didn’t you check the weather report before you drove out here?”
She hadn’t. She’d been in denial until she’d pulled into town yesterday. Despite all the arguments with Ed and the cramming she’d done to understand wind power, she’d ignored the fact that she’d be living in this tiny town in the middle of nowhere for the next month or so. Tess could safely say that denial was one of her strongest abilities.
But now there was no denying two things: she was totally unprepared for the weather in Benson, and Slaid Jacobs was one of the most attractive men she’d ever laid eyes on. The navy blue of his parka somehow made his gray eyes even more vibrant, and his broad shoulders filled out the jacket well. He’d tucked his dark denim jeans into brown suede work boots, laced up casually over the cuffs. He was perfectly at home in the cold, in comparison to her shivering self.
She wouldn’t be here shivering if he was chivalrous. If he hadn’t insisted that she stay in town. He might be good-looking, but right now she kind of hated him.
If he noticed, he gave no sign. “Tess, an idea. We’ve got a shop here that sells all kinds of outdoor gear. Let’s leave the car and walk over there. We can have our meeting as we go and you can get set up with the right clothing. You can’t survive out here in that thin wool coat.”
His voice was smooth and rich, like coffee. Like the espresso she couldn’t have this morning because she was stuck in Benson.
“Is this your idea of a peace offering?”
He gave that slow, widening smile she’d noticed right away when she’d first seen him at the bar in Phoenix. It had done things to her then and it was having the same effect now. “Maybe it is. I don’t know you too well, but you seem like someone who might like to shop. Plus, you look really cold.”
Tess glanced down at her beloved gray Burberry, with the nipped-in waist and shiny black buttons, and sighed. The last thing she wanted was a shopping trip with Slaid, or a parka like his, but he was right about one thing—she was freezing. “Fine,” she agreed. “Lead the way.”
He held out his hand, and to her horror she almost took it. Slaid jerked his hand back before she could and shoved it in his pocket, obviously embarrassed, too. This was ridiculous. How were they supposed to work together?
She stumbled along next to him, her brain a chaotic mélange of feeling. Anger that he’d pressured her to stay in Benson, horror that her past had come back to haunt her and her natural appreciation of a gorgeous guy. Memories of what had happened between them that night in Phoenix scrambled her thoughts further. The images and sensations showed up like random jolts of electricity, leaving her nerve endings sizzling and frayed.
If she could just turn off those memories and focus on work and only work, she might be able to think coherently.
She tried to keep up with his long strides in her stiletto boots and keep an eye on the sidewalk, stepping over anything that looked like ice. She could endure a lot, but falling in front of Slaid might be her breaking point.
She didn’t know what to do, so she did what she was best at. She went into business mode. “So thank you for taking his meeting with me...again. As I told you yesterday, I’m in town because I work for a public relations firm that has been hired by Renewable Reliance.”
“Yes, the wind project,” he said, his voice as dry as the desert. “I remember.”
She plowed on. “I’m in charge of community relations.”
“Well, you’re off to a great start. Considering that you’ve already had relations with the town mayor.”
Tess stopped abruptly as the initial hurt turned to fury. “Is this how you’re going to handle this? Did you want me to stay so you can be self-righteous and hold that night over my head? Because I seem to remember that I wasn’t alone in that hotel room. In fact, you invited me back to your room.”
Slaid stared at the ground, and they walked a few steps in awkward silence. Then he broke it. “I was rude. It was a stupid thing to say. We agreed to keep things professional and I dropped the ball. It won’t happen again.”
She was momentarily disarmed by his apology. “Well, it was a fumble, but maybe you can recover.”
He looked at her in surprise. “You know football?”
She needed a cordial relationship with him to make any progress with the community, which is how she justified her little white lie. “Sure. Some. I’m a San Franciscan. We love our Forty-Niners.”
“So much that you ran ’em out of town.”
Tess stared at him a moment, racking her brain for what she knew about the football team—something to explain his comment. A lightbulb lit in some dim corner of her mind. San Franciscans hadn’t been able to agree on replacing foggy and crumbling Candlestick Park, and a neighboring city had happily jumped in to build the football team a new stadium. She gave a little laugh of relief. “Oh, yes. They’re the Santa Clara Forty-Niners now. It doesn’t have quite the same ring.”
“But they’re keeping their old name, right?”
“Oh, right. Of course.” She was the one fumbling here. Hoping he’d attribute her red cheeks