“Breaks can cost me everything, too,” he told her, needing her to know they really weren’t all that different, also silently warning himself that he needed to tread lightly for his own sanity. “But I’m willing to take the chance. Are you?”
What was she doing here? Stella had more pressing things to do than to stare at the seam of the closed private elevator doors leading to Dane Michaels’s penthouse suite...with a chilled bottle of prosecco in hand, no less.
Maybe she should’ve brought a nice cab instead? Or bourbon. Hadn’t he mentioned a bourbon earlier?
“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done,” she muttered.
What was she thinking? Just because one mysterious, sexy rancher sauntered in to rescue her, she got all excited and aroused and suddenly couldn’t control her desires.
She didn’t have time for desires or sexy attractions. Yet here she was heading straight toward both.
The faux wooden doors slid open with a soft whoosh. Stella immediately took in the fitted tee stretching across broad shoulders and well-worn jeans over narrow hips. Dane’s hair was wet, making it seem even darker than before. He’d shed the plaid shirt and, mercy’s sake, this rancher certainly did the whole hands-on thing. That body made it very clear that he didn’t just stay in some office writing checks for his employees.
Clearly Dane had freshened up while she still looked like the haggard mess she’d been since this morning. She should’ve at least changed, but she hadn’t even considered removing her dress and knee boots.
She’d been too busy arguing with herself over why she’d let this virtual stranger affect her so. Maybe she’d been smitten by his white knight routine, but she couldn’t just dismiss how ridiculously handsome he was, nor could she ignore how her entire body seemed to tingle with a rush of arousal whenever he got close.
There was something rough and rugged about him. When he’d mentioned a ranch...well, toss her a set of chaps and mount up because that was just flat-out hot. Plus, she’d never ridden a cowboy.
Oh, ranchers and cowboys were all throughout Montana, but none had interested her and she spent most of her time with men in suits who only pretended to know the ranching lifestyle. They’d never do anything labor-related that might mess their suits or smudge their manicures.
Dane rested his hip on the back of the leather sofa in the living area and greeted her with a crooked grin. “So you are a risk taker.”
Stella merely held out the bottle of wine and shrugged. “What can I say?”
“You can say that you’ll stay awhile.”
He didn’t stand, didn’t move toward her. He simply relaxed there like he was giving her total control, yet that leveled, dark gaze told her who really called the shots. Hadn’t she come to him? How could he be so powerful, yet not a bit demanding or even making a move?
The way he stared at her...
Like a lion inviting his prey and she was positive she wouldn’t mind being feasted on.
Stella stepped into the spacious penthouse suite. The views never got old, and even from the doorway she could see across the room and stare out the wall of windows. Even in the dark, there was a soft glow coming up from the valley and casting mysterious shadows all over the mountainside.
Lara Anderson had seriously thought of everything when she’d built Mirage on the side of the mountain. No expense had been spared and that’s what made Mirage such a magical escape.
If all of these guests opted to come here and get away from their daily stresses, why couldn’t she do the same...even if for a short time.
The high-beamed ceilings and dark wood floors made the space appear more like a glorified cabin than a room in a resort. The crackling fire called to her. The stunning feature of the fireplace with its stone surround extending to the high ceiling seemed so inviting...so romantic. No, that was the hot guy that seemed romantic. And she’d brought the wine.
This was too easy. Sex was easy. Seduction was easy. Giving in to hormones and not giving a damn about tomorrow or consequences would be so...liberating.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have that luxury of a one-night stand. But flirting and unwinding with a sexy stranger was dangerous ground that she couldn’t help but want to dance on tonight. Just one time. That wouldn’t hurt anything, right?
“I didn’t think you wanted to take a risk.”
Stella offered Dane a smile. “I’d say this one is harmless.”
Though she knew a man like Dane was anything but. Yes, this was taking a huge chance coming to his room, but, well, her father couldn’t control every move she made. She didn’t have to justify her personal life to him. All she had to do was prove herself worthy of keeping Mirage and having him sign the property over to her at the end of this six-month experiment. She had only three months to go.
“Harmless isn’t a word people usually use to describe me,” he countered, his dark eyes half-hidden behind lowered lids. That husky voice sent shivers racing through her.
Maybe they didn’t use harmless, but the word that seemed to embody Dane Michaels was definitely potent. She hadn’t even tried to rationalize the hows and whys of this man and her instant attraction to him. What would be the point? Nothing would come of this...whatever this was. Besides, this was fun. When was the last time she’d done something simply because she wanted to? Every move she made had a purpose and an end gain.
Dane crossed the space, keeping his gaze locked on hers. The snap of the fire behind her filled the silence and added to the allure of the moment. The mysterious man, the late hour...the sexual tension.
“Why don’t you go have a seat,” he murmured. “I’ll take care of everything.”
Everything? As in...
He slid the bottle from her grasp and she suddenly recalled why she was here. Wine. Not orgasms.
Relax, Stella. Don’t make a fool of yourself.
One glass of wine and then she needed to go. Because if she stuck around much longer, she may come across as desperate and not the kick-ass, independent woman she’d fought so hard to be.
“What time will you start back to work in the morning?” he asked as he came over with two very generous glasses of wine.
She wasn’t much of a drinker, so if she sucked down all of this she’d likely end up draped over the rug in front of the fire before long. And since “drunk Stella” lacked impulse control, she’d probably be posed in some “come and get me” style that would surely embarrass her once the buzz wore off.
“I’ll go back down about five.”
Dane settled next to her on the leather sofa and glanced to his watch. “That’s in five hours. When do you sleep?”
“When I have time.”
Which was rarely. If she could go through these next few months on no sleep, she totally would. There simply wasn’t enough time in the day. She had to keep all these balls juggled in the air. Dropping even one could prove fatal for her goals.
“Have you always put so much pressure on yourself?” he asked, taking a drink and then putting his glass on the raw-edged table.
“I don’t see it as pressure,” she retorted. “There are things I want and failing isn’t an option.”
“You’re