With a few quick tap-taps of her fingers, Charmaine familiarized herself with his programs, which really impressed him. “Where’d you learn to do all that?”
She shrugged. “I use different software with my businesses. Before that, I needed to develop computer skills for some of the jobs I took when I dropped out of college.”
Concentrating on the screen, she didn’t notice the frown that furrowed his brow. Her dropping out of college had been a sore point between them, one of the reasons for their break-up. How could she mention it so casually?
“Stop frowning and hand me some of those papers,” she ordered.
Apparently, she was aware, after all.
“It’s too late to do much tonight, but give me an idea what you’re doing, by going through a couple of papers. I might be able to wade through some of these piles during the day while you’re out chasing cows, or whatever it is you do.”
He smiled at her assessment of ranch life.
“Don’t smile.”
“Why not?”
“Because I get butterflies in my tummy when you smile, and then I can’t concentrate.”
“Oh, Charmaine.” Truth to tell, I get butterflies, too, but they’re more like kamikazes, and they’re aiming a bit lower in my anatomy.
“Don’t ‘Oh, Charmaine’ me. Just because you give me butterflies doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything about it.”
Me, neither. But I’m sure thinkin’ about it. “Because you’re a born-again virgin?”
“Yeah.” She grinned at him before turning her attention back to the screen and tap-tap-tapping some more.
When she yawned widely, he said, “That’s it,” and reached over to take the mouse out of her hand to log off. In the process, his hand brushed hers. He could swear that just the brush of his palm over the back of her hand threw off erotic sparks.
She turned in her seat to ask, “What are you… ?” Her words trailed off as she realized how close his face was to hers.
As if in slow motion, he noticed the two freckles on her nose, which she always hid with makeup, the widening of her whiskey eyes, which were glazing over now with strong emotion, the parting of her lips.
She moaned softly.
That was all the encouragement he needed. Leaning closer still, he pressed his mouth against hers. Not hard. Not gentle. Just a coming-home kind of kiss where body parts once well-attuned acclimated themselves to familiar territory.
She moaned again and opened her mouth more for his exploration.
He moaned, too. Into her welcoming mouth. Releasing the mouse, he used both of his hands to frame her face and kiss her more deeply. So powerful was the draw between them that he felt his eyes burn with unshed tears. This was the way it had always been.
Charmaine ended the kiss, finally, by pressing her hands against his bare chest. His vision blurred, and he was panting like a war-horse.
“That should not have happened,” she said.
He nodded.
“It’s not why I came here tonight.”
He nodded.
“I’m only here for a visit.”
He nodded.
“We are not going to have sex.”
He paused, but then he nodded. One word from you, though, and I would be on you like a duck on a June bug.
She stood and pulled down the hem of her T-shirt, which caused her erect nipples to protrude.
Raoul knew something important at that moment. Charmaine wasn’t as cool and collected as she pretended.
“Luc is going to file the divorce papers for us.” She still fidgeted with the T-shirt.
He nodded. Why is there a lump in my throat? “If it’s what you want.”
“Of course it is,” she said, but her kiss-wet lips quivered as she spoke. “It’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yeah.” How the hell do I know?
Charmaine gave him a long, questioning look, as if waiting for something. Then she left.
He suspected he’d just been given a rare opportunity for a replay in the misbegotten game that was his life. But he had dropped the ball.
Chapter 4
Whoopi-ti-yi-yo, for sure . . .
Trouble hit the next day with a vengeance. Four steer shot between the eyes, and not a clue in sight.