Into The Sunset: An Erotic Romance Anthology (5 page)

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Authors: Vivian Wood

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BOOK: Into The Sunset: An Erotic Romance Anthology
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He took a gulp of his beer. Businessman, he
was a businessman doing business things, but goddamn was it
hard.

Rose cleared her throat. “I hope you don’t
mind I asked someone to look at this. I never sign anything I don’t
understand.”


No, no of course not,” Rex said.
He wished he could excuse himself for a five minute cold shower.
“In fact, I’d rather have a shrewd business partner.”

Rose nodded. “So, I’ll be the silent partner,
and it looks like in two years I have the option to switch to a
more active role?” She arched her brow at him and he
explained.


Your parents wanted me to put
that in there. It’s actually every two years.” Rex knew it wasn’t
his place to meddle in family affairs, but he couldn’t quite keep
his mouth shut, not after seeing how much the whole ranch lit up
like a Christmas tree with Rose around. “You know, I think
everyone, your friends and your family, want you back
here.”

She glared at him and he shrank in his
seat.


I know, I know… You’ve heard it
before and besides, it’s not my place to say anything,” he said.
And did he really want her to stay?

She didn’t reply as she started signing the
papers. Rex stared at her, her soft lips and graceful neck, her
ears that he wanted to nibble, the short dark curls he’d like to
wind around his fingers. He wanted to taste her mouth, kiss her
gentle face, and continue on to less PG-rated
activities.

Rex felt himself firming up and he tried to
think of something unerotic—football, accounting, decorating. Ah,
decorating. While Rose signed, Rex catalogued the contents of his
quarters.

The furniture was a hodgepodge of used items
and new things. Annie had a new bed and there was a new stand for
the TV, both from Ikea, but the TV itself and the couch they
watched it on were pretty old. All the decorations were landscape
pictures from manufacturer’s calendars. There had been cowboys up
as well, but Annie had confiscated them for her room.


All done,” Rose said, handing him
the pen.

Their fingers touched for a moment
and Rex felt like a teenager. Just that brush of soft skin on his
was enough to set his heart pounding. He thought of lamps while he
signed and initialed and dated the paperwork. The lighting in the
room was functional, rustic in a different way than the guest
cabin. He was so focused on keeping his mind
off
of Rose that he managed to sign
his name as “clamp light,” as that was what they were currently
using as a desk lamp.

Rose frowned, then coughed, then laughed. “Is
there something you’re not telling me, Rex?”

Not realizing his error, he just looked at her
and wished he hadn’t. An amused Rose was a very tempting
Rose.

She gestured to the paper. “Like that your
parents were on acid when they named you?”

Rex scowled. “At least I got the date
right.”

Rose covered her mouth as she laughed. “I’m
sorry. I’m guessing Annabelle Lee’s asleep, and here I am making
all this racket.” She stood up, the delighted grin still on her
face. “We’ll finish this up tomorrow.” She patted his shoulder, an
absent gesture, but he burned.

Later, in his room, he still burned. He
touched himself, thinking of Rose’s sunshine smile, her vanilla
scent, her cherry lips.

He knew it was the wrong thing to do, but he
couldn’t help himself. He was falling for Rose.

* * *

Don’t think about his chest. Don’t think about
his chest. Think about his broad shoulders and big strong arms and
that trail of hair on his perfectly toned stomach instead. Shit,
no, that wasn’t helping either.

The knot in Rose’s chest twisted and squeezed.
It had been bucking since Rex had answered his door looking
completely edible. She had taken the minute while he got dressed to
try and calm down. Even holding the thudding in her chest wouldn’t
slow it down. It felt like pins and needles, the first tingle of
life returning to a sleep-dead limb.

Was that what was happening? Was Rex prying
her heart from its stony tomb? And—more importantly—did she want
him to?

She was up all night, tossing and turning with
too many questions. When the light in the room turned gray, she got
up, not wanting to stare at the ceiling anymore.

Her mother was in the kitchen, a cheery smile
on her face, the coffee already brewing.


Rough night?” she asked her
daughter.

Rose took a moment to look at herself in the
back of spoon. Glassy eyes, bags under them, and crud stuck to the
corner of her mouth. “Yup,” she said. There was no point in lying
after all.


So, what do you think about
changing this place’s name to the Crown of Thorns Ranch and
Resort?”

Rose smiled as her mother set a cup of coffee
in front of her. It was sweet and milky, just what she needed after
a sleepless night. “Well, we’re just working on getting the
paperwork signed.”

Lily squeezed her tight before padding back to
the stove to fry some bacon. “You feeling better about Rex
now?”

If anything, Rose was feeling too good about
Rex. “Yeah, he explained a few things to me yesterday, and I
understand where he’s coming from now.”

There was nothing but the sizzle and fragrance
of bacon. Rose didn’t relax. She knew where this conversation was
going.


You know, rough as you look right
now, you still look better than the day you flew in.”


Mom, that’s because flying and
airports are awful. It’s not because Boston is awful.” Rose cringed
at her own tone, just like a petulant teenager.


I’m not
saying
Boston
is awful, just maybe suggesting that it’s awful for you.” Her
mother snuck a peek at Rose over her shoulder. She wondered what
angle her mother would try this time. “You know, that art man from
Kimbell has been asking about you.”


He’s the Director of Research,”
Rose said with a sigh. Alfred Faulk. That man would not be happy
until he’d stolen her from her current job. Part of it was she was
good, but a bigger part the rivalry going on between the two
museums. Her coworkers shared all the highlights from the occasions
when the two institutions crossed paths.


Well, he’s been very sweet. He
promised to book a weekend as soon as we opened and to tell his
friends about it.”

Rose looked at the back of her mother’s head.
Sometimes she wondered if the two were in cahoots. She could almost
picture Alfred drinking coffee with her parents, enjoying an
argument about politics. “Oh.”


He said to give him a ring when
you’re in town and he’ll give you private tour.”

She finished her coffee with a scowl. Alfred
always got to make his pitch, because he knew just how to lure her
in. He was king of the dark dusty corners, and made sure each time
show her something stunning. A rare lithograph, a new painting
making a way-stop before it went to the cleaners, a sculpture just
arrived for a show: Rose got to stand in the backroom and admire it
with only the animated Director for company.

It was too early to call the man. Rose found
something to do in the garden. Over breakfast, she and Rex avoided
looking at each other. Their partnership was sealed with an
almost-empty ballpoint pen on the kitchen counter.

Rose was afraid to touch him, afraid her heart
would leap out of her chest if she did. Her mind supplied her with
the vivid image of her coughing up a bit of black wet meat into her
hand and she grimaced.


Are you okay there?” Rex asked.
He moved to pat her arm, a friendly gesture Rose shied away
from.


You better call Alfred today,”
her mom said.


I’ll call him tomorrow,” Rose
grumbled.


I said you’d call him today when
I talked to him yesterday.”


Fine,” Rose said with a sigh,
fishing her cellphone out of her pocket.


Do you need his number?” Lily
asked.

Rose snorted. Normally she’d be annoyed, but
today she was grateful for the excuse to get away. “No.”

* * *

Lily smirked and Rex was wondering, who the
hell is Alfred? It was a strange nervous feeling, a bitter taste,
that name. He didn’t remember anyone ever mentioning an Alfred. Was
there even anyone in this town named Alfred?

Lily was watching him and his mouth twitched,
wanting to demand who her daughter was calling.

Cool. Play it cool. After all, he didn’t want
his boss catching him acting all jealous. Damn. That’s what it was
too, jealousy. Rex wanted to groan and hang his head in his hands,
but instead he asked, “Alfred?” There, that sounded
casual.


Alfred, the art man. God, he’s
been trying to get Rose to work for him at the Kimbell for years.
Although, I think he has a bit of a crush on her too.” Lily gave
him a conspiratorial wink. “Don’t say that to Rose. She gets mad
every time I do.”

Rex nodded. It was all he could manage. He
pictured a debonair man with sleek blond hair in a black suit. Rose
had her arm linked through his and they were laughing.


You know, you should take Annie
there. It might not seem like it, because she’ll just be bouncing
around, but I think art does them good. We used to take Rose
there.”

Rex gave Lily a warm smile because he couldn’t
hug the woman every time she said Annie. How she managed to keep it
straight—calling his daughter Annabelle Lee when she talked to her
and Annie when she talked to him—he wasn’t sure, but he appreciated
it.


That sounds lovely,” he
said.


Good, I’ll see what I can do
about the schedule.”

When the only time Lily could find for him to
go was at three, on a Tuesday, Rex knew something was up. Lily kept
smiling to herself, and Tad had asked Rex if he knew just what Lily
was hatching. Rex assured him, he did not. He didn’t mention his
suspicions that it involved his trip to the museum, because that
was a gut feeling he had.

Lily had made sure Annie had a
pretty dress to wear, and Annie tolerated her fussing with a
patience she had for no other woman. All the more reason to
not
mess things up by
having useless feelings for Rose. There was a prickling on the back
of his neck as he got out of the car and he scanned the parking lot
for the old pickup Rose had borrowed. While the exterior was
nothing to look at, the mechanics were sound, and sure enough, he
spotted it, rusting amid the Acuras and low-end
Mercedes.

Then, the door opened, and Rose herself slid
out. She was wearing something flowy and feminine, an outfit that
wrapped her curves and made a gift of her for every man passing by.
With a shock he realized it was the same thing she’d worn from the
airport. It was like he was seeing her with entirely new eyes, like
he had changed since she had arrived.


Daddy, why are you staring?”
Annie asked.

Rose turned and waved at them. “Hey, you two.
What are you doing here?”

She walked toward them, and—oh god—she had
heels on. Her luscious thighs looked so damn good, he wanted to
wrap them around his shoulders. Christ, he shouldn’t be having
thoughts like that, not about his bosses’ daughter, not when he had
his own daughter with him.

Rex opened his mouth, but he didn’t trust
himself to speak. His voice would be hoarse with desire.


Miss Lily said we should go,”
Annie said.


Oh,” Rose said, puzzled.
Realization dawned on her, drawing out another, longer, “Oh.” Her
gaze flicked up and down Rex, her cheeks flushing red.

At that moment Rex realized the same the same
thing. Lily was trying to set them up. His heart did this weird
jump, up to his throat then down to his belly, when he realized
he’d been given tacit approval from Rose’s mother, and likely her
father, to date her.


Well, I’ve got a few minutes
before I’m supposed to meet Alfred. Why don’t I show you two
around?”

Annie took Rose’s hand, and together they
walked into the museum. The woman sitting at the front desk took
one look at them and waved them past with a friendly
smile.


Do you have friends here?” he
asked.

She shook her head. “No. Alfred is just trying
to woo me,” she replied with a sigh.

Rex’s gut clenched, once at the name and again
at the word woo. It didn’t matter if she was being sarcastic. He
didn’t like the thought of some strange man near her.

For the love of god, Rex, get a grip on
yourself.

Rose stopped in front of a painting of three
men playing cards and crouched down next to Annie.


This is one of
my favorite paintings. It’s called
The Cardsharps
by Caravaggio. I like
how it tells a story. See the young man in black?” She pointed and
Annie nodded. “He’s looking at his hand, thinking it’s a fair game,
while the man next to him looks at his cards and signals to his
partner.”

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