Dark Desire in Elk's Crossing [Sequel to Ecstasy in Elk's Crossing] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (3 page)

“Sven and I are having whiskey on ice. It’s a rather nice Tennessee sipping whiskey.”

Annika wrinkled her nose. “That’s a little harsh for me.”

“Then how about a gin and tonic? I’m told I make one of the world’s finest gin and tonics.”

“Now that,” Annika said, smiling as she looked him in the eyes, “sounds delicious.”

But I am absolutely certain that you’re much more delicious.

As Joshua headed toward the liquor cart, he vowed to banish all such thoughts of Annika from his mind forever. But as he put ice cubes into a highball glass, then added a slice of lime, his thoughts weren’t entirely on the cocktail he was making.

Are all Scandinavian women that melt-in-your-mouth gorgeous?

* * * *

My God, they’re handsome.

Annika stopped dead in her tracks, looked down at the floor for a breath-held moment in a desperate attempt to gather tight rein on her emotions and promised herself that she’d never again harbor for even a second a thought regarding the aesthetics of either Sven or Joshua. Despite the fact that they were both the most drop-dead handsome, even drop-panties gorgeous, men she’d seen in years, she wouldn’t allow herself so much as a fleeting thought regarding the possible pleasures of even a short-term affair.

Stop it! Stop it! Are you trying to commit professional suicide? One’s your employer and the other is a possible client, which means both of them are permanently on your do-not-have-sex-with list.

She crossed the large room, trying not to notice, but noticing just the same, the ostentatiously masculine wood-and-leather furniture, the aroma of pine and cedar, and the comfortable “this is a man’s place” ambience. She half-wondered whether she should apologize for entering such a shrine to manly comforts.

“I’ve made it standard,” Joshua said as he dipped the long-handled, slender silver spoon into the glass and swirled the contents around, mixing it properly. “Not too strong and not too weak. Let me know your druthers, and I’ll custom-make the next one to your preferences.”

She caught a whiff of his cologne. It was unfamiliar to her but very pleasing. She sniffed again, but this time the act was noticed by Joshua. Annika felt herself blush a little.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend. That’s very nice cologne you’re wearing.” She tilted her head up to gaze into his eyes, hoping desperately that she neither sounded nor looked as interested as she actually was. “Might I inquire as to what it is?”

Joshua shrugged his broad shoulders. “It might be unusual where you come from, but not here. It’s called Old Spice. Nothing fancy.”

“Perhaps not,” she replied, “but it fits you in a very nice way.”

She felt the immediate rush this time, an embarrassed heat that went through her veins in an instant. She turned away from Joshua, hoping against the odds that he hadn’t seen her discomfort, wishing for the impossible in that maybe he hadn’t heard or understood the subtle intimacy in what she’d just said.

She walked all the way across the room to the windows and looked out, feeling her skin tingling as it cooled after the explosive heat of embarrassment that had surged through her veins. She sipped her cocktail, thought its flavor to be just slightly better than heavenly, then took a second and third sip. When she looked in the window, she saw in the reflection of Joshua and Sven standing behind her, the two of them now close together near the fireplace, each with one elbow resting jauntily up on the mantle.

They’re like lions in their prime.

The thought prompted a smile from Annika. Yes, she decided, young lions full of strength, courage, and virility. But that also meant that they had a pride of beautiful, young lionesses to satisfy their sexual urges. Annika knew that Sven had more than a few women who were all too willing to meet him anytime, anyplace, without any expectations of obligation or permanence. Unconditional sex and a few laughs were all that Sven wanted in a woman, and that just wasn’t enough for Annika. She refused to be any man’s occasional lover, just as she refused to have casual sex with men no matter how gorgeous, wealthy, and charming they might be. She’d seen too many women supplicate themselves to powerful men, and Annika was surrounded by powerful men on a daily basis.

The door opened, and an elderly man in his seventies stepped into the room. He wore the standard livery of domestic help, though he had the gnarled hands of a man who’d spend the bulk of his long life astride a horse with a lariat in his hands.

“Mr. Joshua, sir, your dinner is ready,” the butler said.

“Thank you, Monty,” Joshua replied. Then, to Annika, he said, “Can I freshen your drink before we go to the dining room?”

Annika shook her head. Her body was too receptive to the seductive charms of Joshua and Sven, and she didn’t want the inhibition-reducing effects of alcohol making her any more vulnerable than she already felt.

The dining room table could easily seat twenty people. Annika was pleased that rather than having the two men seated at the table’s ends, they were all placed in the middle, with two chairs pulled out on one side, and one chair pulled out on the other, so they wouldn’t be yards and yards apart. An elderly woman, also in livery though with a somewhat soiled apron tied around her ample middle, stood beside one chair and indicated that Annika was to sit there.

“After your trip I thought you might have an appetite, so I made good, hearty fare for you,” the old woman said. “It’s simple but solid and sticks to the bones.”

“I’m sure it will be wonderful,” Annika replied.

When the maid had left the room, Joshua said, “That’s Monty and Emma Johnson. Monty rode with my father for the better part of fifty years. He didn’t want to retire, but I couldn’t keep sending him out with the cattle, so he and his wife just sort of became help around the house. Can’t imagine what I’d do around here without them.”

Moments later the Johnsons returned to the dining room pushing a cart with three plates, each with a steaming pound-and-a-half T-bone steak, a baked potato roughly the size of a football, and a mound of green peas slathered in butter and redolent with fresh garlic.

“Good lord,” Annika said in a kind of awed exclamation, looking at the steak on her plate, “that’s what my father would buy to feed our whole family.”

Sven chuckled softly and added, “You are a generous man, Joshua. I will say that for you.”

“This is cattle country,” Joshua replied. “Some of the finest steaks in the world come from here. That’s prime Charolais on your plate. I took the liberty of having them cooked medium-rare. I hope that’s to your liking.” He smiled. “I had to make a few assumptions because of time restrictions.”

Annika nodded, and Sven said, “Yes. Exactly as I like.” He cut a slice of the steak, chewed the meat slowly, swallowed, then sighed. “My English is not good enough to say how delicious this is.”

When Annika tried the steak, her lashes fluttered against her cheeks, and she felt her mouth water. Never in her life had she tasted a more flavorful, tender, juicy steak.

“This is incredible,” Annika said truthfully. “I’ll have to watch my waistline when I’m in Elk’s Crossing.”

“When you’re here, why not splurge a little?” Joshua said, the timbre of his voice low and pleasing to Annika in ways she was a little uncomfortable with. “Let me indulge you.”

Annika looked at her host then quickly looked down again at her plate. She tried to tell herself that Joshua’s comment had been innocent enough, but the blue gleam in his eyes made her wonder whether he was flirting with her. And there was something so lascivious about the word “indulge,” whether he meant it lewdly or not, that was like a secret caress to Annika.

“Your waistline has nothing to worry about,” Sven said then frowned. “I am not sure I said that right.”

“Your English was fine. I’m just not entirely certain the statement was valid. I have to watch what I eat.”

Annika munched on steak slowly to savor all the flavor that was possible. As a child, she had weighed more than she had wanted, and though she wasn’t overweight as an adult, she was endlessly conscious of her weight and leery of gaining any more.

Forty-five minutes later, as the meal was winding down, Annika very nearly brought up a business-related question before silencing herself. This wasn’t the time to talk business, she told herself. If business was an appropriate topic of conversation, then the men would surely have spoken of it before now.

“This is the best meal I have had in a long time,” Sven said, setting down his knife and fork. Only a bone and some remnants of a baked potato remained on his plate. He patted his stomach then tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn.

“You should call it a night,” Annika suggested. “You worked through most of the flights and didn’t get a wink of sleep the whole way.”

Sven smiled and gave her a slight nod. “I am tired, it is true. You are not tired?”

“I slept on the plane, remember? I’m fine.”

He glanced at Joshua then looked back at Annika. “You will be all right?”

“Yes. I think I’ll have a nightcap with Joshua then I’ll call it a night, too.”

Joshua pushed his chair back. “Shall I walk you to your room?”

“Unnecessary. Stay and keep Annika company. You are a gracious host, and I appreciate that very much.” He smiled. “Take care of Annika for me. She means everything to my company.”

Joshua hesitated only a moment before asking, “And to you?”

Annika held her breath, waiting for the answer, but the big Norwegian said nothing before exiting the room.

* * * *

The gin and tonic was the ideal after-dinner drink, but Annika warned herself to only have one. She hardly trusted herself to be alone with Joshua stone sober, so to have the inhibition-relaxing effects of alcohol going through her system would make her especially vulnerable to seduction.

She was standing once more at the windows, looking out at the ebony night.

“It’s so very dark out here,” she said, feeling Joshua’s masculine presence as he stood behind her, looking over her head. “In Oslo, it never gets this dark. There are always electric lights on.”

“Let’s take a step outside,” Joshua said. “You need to see what the night looks like from a country perspective. You can’t really see its beauty looking through a window.”

He turned and walked toward the door, clearly confident that Annika would simply follow him. She thought briefly of resisting, aware that this man was far too familiar with people doing whatever he said without question, but she tamped down this quick moment of petty ire and followed him through the ranch house. Before she caught up with him, she took the time to visually appreciate taut, masculine buns encased in nice jeans, wide shoulders, and coal-black hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. When he opened the door and stepped aside for her to pass, Annika once again caught the fragrance of his cologne and inexplicably, or at least traitorously, she felt her body respond sexually to its influence.

“One of the busiest meatpacking cities in the world is Chicago, which is also the third largest city in the United States,” Joshua explained as he closed the door and lightly slipped his arm inside Annika’s and began leading her away from the house and onto the expansive lawn. The electric bulb over the front door cast a halo of illumination in a circle that didn’t travel thirty feet. “I find myself in the heart of Chicago with a fair frequency, and I always dislike it. I do it because of business, but I don’t like the big city.”

“What don’t you like about it?” Annika asked, distinctly aware of the warmth of the strong, large hand lightly touching the inside of her arm just above the elbow.

“A thousand different things, but one most of all is the night. You can step outside your hotel room at midnight or three in the morning and it’ll be bright enough outside with all the neon lights to read a newspaper.” Annika looked up at him to make certain he was serious, and as though reading her mind, he nodded and smiled. “In Chicago, I look up into the sky at night and can’t see a single star. Not one. But I look around and see a hundred people, a thousand people, no matter what time of the day or night. And I don’t know a single one of them. Not really. Not even the ones I do business with.”

Annika, unsure of just exactly what to expect from Joshua and therefore uncomfortable with silence, asked softly after several quiet seconds, “Where are we going?”

“Just over here a ways,” Joshua answered. “Don’t worry. I promised Sven I’d keep a protective eye on you, and I intend to do exactly that.” A sudden, raucous clamor of angry and delighted voices came from the bunkhouse some thirty yards to the south, between the ranch house and the stone front gates of the Sitting Mule Ranch. “Poker,” Joshua explained. “Those are the men who work for the ranch during the summer months, so they’re temporary. Every night is poker night, and if somebody wins, that means somebody has to lose.”

“I live in New York City and Oslo, so I’m unfamiliar with ranch hands, but I do know what a poker game sounds like. My father used to host a poker game once a month with his friends. They’d all get drunk and gamble like sailors, and I’d be in bed and hear this uproar with some men angry and some men thrilled.” She smiled. “It brings back nice memories.”

They stepped up to a white, three-rail corral fence. Joshua put a booted foot up on the bottom rail, grabbed the top rail in his hands, and tilted his head far back on his shoulders to look up into the night sky.

“Look at those stars,” he said quietly. “If that isn’t beauty, I don’t know what is.”

Annika turned her back to the fence then stretched her arms out over the top rail. When she looked up, the natural beauty spread out before her made the breath catch in her throat. A city girl born and bred, she was used to concrete beneath her feet and neon lights surrounding her. The panorama of pinpricks of starlight unfolded instantaneously against an ebony-black sky was almost unfathomable to her senses.

“My God, that’s stunning,” she whispered with absolute though entirely unintentional candor. “I’ve never seen so many stars in my life. It’s…beautiful.”