Sinful Attraction (5 page)

Chapter 8

H
alf an hour later, the SUV rounded a bend, and there it was, stretched out on the banks of the Snake River: Judah Cross’s ranch.
Sweet Heaven
was carved on the gateway that let them through the split-rail fence to the log cabin.

A log cabin fit for an emperor.

Claudia gasped. Though she was more of a Parisian-spa type of girl and didn’t see the point of letting nature get too close, she’d done enough research about the ranch and knew enough about real estate in general to know when she saw a gem.

This was, unquestionably, a gem. The place was ten-thousand-ish square feet of chinked timbers, picture windows with river views from every conceivable angle, fieldstone fireplaces, decks and a dock. Mature pines framed the house, as though God had put them there only to accessorize this architectural masterpiece.

“Wow,” she breathed as the driver rolled the SUV to a stop under the covered archway at the foot of the stone steps leading to the massive front door. “Just...wow.”

“
Wow
about covers it.” The driver hopped out, came around and opened the door for her. “We get
wow
a lot around here.”

“I’d be willing to put up with a few bears to live in a home like this,” she said, craning her neck and looking all around so she didn’t miss any detail of this exquisite setting.

“Most of us are.”

He grabbed her luggage from the trunk and the two of them walked to the front door, which was flung open just as they reached the top step. A woman appeared.

No, not a woman. A pixie.

With wispy blond hair that framed her adorable chipmunk cheeks, a cheerleader’s smile that flashed blindingly white teeth, dimples in alarming quantities and enormous eyes the exact blue of the Wyoming skies overhead, the woman had one of those age-resistant faces that looked about fifteen years old—sixteen at the most. This youthful effect was enhanced by her white yoga bodysuit and zero percent body fat, Claudia saw at a glance. She had a layer of orange scarves twined around her neck, and her five-toed athletic shoes were a headache-inducing shade of hot pink. If the pixie had worn a pair of six-inch heels, they would’ve put her in the five-foot range. As it was, though, she bobbed around somewhere at the level of Claudia’s breasts, an unfortunate detail that made Claudia feel like King Kong.

“Good morning to you!” The woman’s voice was a pealing singsong that, more than anything else, made Claudia want to catch the next flight back to New York, where people were never that ridiculously cheery. “Welcome, welcome! Good morning!”

“Hello!” Hanging on to her smile by a thread, Claudia extended her hand. “I’m Claudia Montgom—”

“Oh, we don’t bother with handshakes at Sweet Heaven! Come here!”

Claudia went blank, wondering,
Come where?
when the women threw open her arms and pulled her into a hug. Claudia turned rigid with horror and tried not to squirm away. Did this woman not realize she was a Brit, for God’s sake? Brits didn’t go about hugging perfect strangers! Brits barely hugged their own children!

The body contact went on forever.

And ever.

When finally the woman was done showering her with unwanted affection, she pulled back and held Claudia at arm’s length, smiling that toothpaste commercial smile. Thoroughly flustered, Claudia smoothed her hair, stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest lest the woman get any more ideas about physical contact.

The woman seemed impervious to this defensive move. “I’m Summer Wheaton,” she announced. “Judah’s life coach.”

“So lovely to meet you,” Claudia said. And then, because she’d done extensive research about Judah Cross and read about life coaches online, but still couldn’t quite believe they were a real thing these days, added, “And I do hope you’ll tell me, because it’s such a fascinating area—what does one do with a life coach, precisely? I mean, what are your duties?”

“Oh, well.” Summer beamed, as though the questions had tapped into the life source of all her energy. “Do you want the long answer?”

Claudia, who only wanted an answer that made a modicum of sense, tried to look as though she didn’t think the entire subject was a load of nonsense.

“Please.”

“I work with Judah to ensure he experiences the fullest gift of divine happiness possible,” Summer explained.

What the blue blazes did that mean?

“Oh?” Claudia asked encouragingly.

“Yes. Helping him to maintain his sobriety in his everyday world is crucial, of course.”

“Of course,” Claudia agreed.

“So I help him through moments he may find challenging, when he may be tempted to fall back into self-destructive habits, and I work with him to manage stress, and I oversee his diet and exercise.” Leaning closer, she dropped her voice to a confidential whisper. “Judah’s been in talks to go back on the road. Another world tour. I’d go with him.”

Claudia blinked. “He just finished up his farewell tour last year, I thought. Is he coming out of retirement again?”

“Well, you never know with a creative genius like Judah,” Summer said brightly. “He’s just not happy unless he’s meeting his fans and soaking in the spotlight.”

“Right.”

Summer’s expression darkened. “If we do go on tour, part of my duties will be to keep the leeches away. As I’m sure you know, there are plenty of people who’ve gotten rich off the Judah Cross machine but don’t care about the man underneath. That’s where I come in. I make sure that the man doesn’t get trampled. He’s like a rose, blooming in a garden—”

A
rose,
did she say? Claudia’s mind flashed back to concert footage she’d recently watched of Judah, in full makeup and costume, being brought onstage on a litter carried by six nearly naked women with spiked chains around their necks while he lashed his whip and pumped his hips at them.

“—trying not to be trampled or eaten by deer.” Summer paused, fixing Claudia with a stern look that made her blue eyes glint with manic determination. “I. Will. Not. Let. Judah’s. Leaves. Be. Eaten. By. Deer.”

Oh, dear God
, Claudia thought. “Good for you,” she said.

More beaming from Summer. “We’ve got a wonderful lunch ready for you and the others. Oh, here they are now!”

Claudia looked around. Sure enough, a black-on-black SUV, a rental much like the one Judah had sent for her, was now making its way up the drive, spewing gravel behind it.

Claudia’s heart rate kicked into overdrive, and that was before the vehicle pulled to a stop in front of the porch. It was a small consolation that Summer was also atwitter with excitement and doing a poorer job hiding it than Claudia was. By the time the car doors opened, she had bounced down the steps, her arms wide in preparation for another round of hugging.

“Welcome to the ranch,” Summer cried. “We’re so glad you made it through the stormy weather in Chicago. Judah can’t wait to see you again.”

Claudia rolled her eyes even as she watched with rapt interest. Her competition already knew the potential client. Of course.

Marcus got out the driver’s side and surveyed his new surroundings, his jaw tight. Though he wore a pair of black aviator sunglasses that blocked out any hint of his eyes, his head turned in Claudia’s direction and stayed there.

The intensity of his attention was enough to freeze Claudia in place.

He wore another pristine black dress shirt, but had traded in his pressed slacks for a pair of black jeans and hiking boots. On any other man, such a severe outfit would have made him look like a bad guy searching for a sheriff to kill, but Marcus was like the face of some high-end designer’s Western collection.

Another man was getting out on the passenger side, Claudia realized. About the same height as Marcus, he was Caucasian, with the sun-kissed complexion of a man who spent a lot of time outdoors. His curls, not quite blond but not quite brown, ruffled in the breeze and brushed the collar of his weathered white denim shirt. Faded jeans and hiking boots completed his look.

“Oh, my,” breathed Summer quietly as the men shut their doors and made their way up the walk. “They sure do make them nice in New York City, don’t they?”

Yes,
thought Claudia bitterly, wishing her cheeks weren’t quite so hot,
they sure do
.

Just another one of the unfair facts of life, she supposed.

“Summer?” Marcus took off his sunglasses, tucked them into his breast pocket and extended his hand. His gaze flickered to Claudia—yeah, he looked pissed—before latching on to Summer. Then he flashed that smile of his, a sight so breathtaking that Claudia almost expected Summer to look around, blink and say,
Mountains? What mountains?
“Great to finally meet you. Thanks for having us.”

“We don’t bother with handshakes around here. We’re all family at Sweet Heaven,” Summer said, catching him in a hug and running her hands up his back and down his arms with more frank feminine appreciation than Claudia thought was necessary. Over the top of Summer’s head, Marcus’s smile froze in place and he shot Claudia a bewildered
What the hell is happening to me?
look. Claudia struggled not to laugh. New Yorkers, she knew, were just as enthusiastic about hugs as Brits were.

“Appreciate that,” Marcus said, managing to look charmed even as he extricated himself as quickly as possible. “We’re thrilled to be here. Did you order up this weather just for us?”

“Naturally!” Summer headed for the other man, who threw his arms open to receive her, his blue eyes glinting with mischief. Summer seemed not to notice. “Hello, Cooper,” she sang, pressing her cheek to Cooper’s broad chest. “I have the feeling you might have lied to me when you told me that your brother Marcus here was hideously scarred in a childhood accident and always wears a mask over his face.”

Cooper let her go, stepped back and put a hand over his heart, looking as wide-eyed and innocent as a puppy bouncing through a dog food commercial. “Did I say that?”

Summer laughed. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, when I talked to Marcus, he told me you were adopted after your birth mother, a yeti, rejected you on sight right after you were born.”

Cooper didn’t seem to mind this insult. “That does make me feel better. Last time he told the story, my mother was a werewolf. Isn’t that right, man?”

But Marcus was on his way up the steps to stand beside Claudia, and he didn’t answer. Claudia braced herself, her pulse skittering like popcorn cooking on the stove. For the millionth time, she wondered if she might have handled the situation last night a little better. The hard lines of Marcus’s face certainly looked as though he was holding on to a grudge.

She waited, breath held.

“Thanks for running out on me like a bat out of hell last night,” Marcus murmured. “It’s not like we could have talked it through, or anything.”

Claudia again crossed her arms over her chest—she felt as if she needed an extra layer of protection between herself and Marcus. Then she ran a shaky hand through her hair to smooth it and frowned, trying hard to look as though she couldn’t understand all the fuss. “What more was there to say?”

“
Now
you care what I think?” Marcus’s lips—the same lips that had kissed, nipped and/or sucked pretty much every inch of her body last night—thinned into a bitter line as he nailed her with a look that was as hurt as it was angry. “We have everything to talk about, Claudia.”

“Marc?” Cooper approached, his keen interest flickering between Marcus and Claudia. “You lose your hearing all of a sudden?”

Wiping his face clean of all expression, Marcus turned to face his brother while Claudia tried to catch her breath. “Nope. You finished telling lies about me?”

“For now.” Cooper stared at Claudia, his gaze openly speculative now. “Are you giving out hugs, too?”

“No,” Marcus said tightly, glaring at Cooper. “That would be a negative.”

Cooper extended his hand to Claudia, his lips curling into a smile of open and wicked delight. “Cooper Davies. Great to meet you.”

Claudia smiled back and shook his hand. “Claudia Montgomery. Pleasure.”

One of Cooper’s thick eyebrows headed north. “British, eh?”

“Guilty. Londoner.”

“London’s a great city,” Cooper said. “If you’re a duck.” He nudged Marcus with an elbow. “Hey, Marc. Do you know Claudia from London?”

“No,” Claudia said quickly.

“Yes,” Marcus said at the same time.

Summer frowned, glancing between them. Cooper smirked. Marcus narrowed his eyes at Claudia just enough to make her fidget.

Forced to correct this discrepancy, Claudia shifted on the balls of her feet. “I mean,” she began. Another shift.
Stop that, Claudia, you idiot!
“What I meant to say is,” she said, locking her knees, determined to stand still, “that we met on the plane. Just, you know, idle chitchat.”

Well aware that she was in danger of babbling, Claudia kept her mouth shut before she said something truly stupid.

“Oh, you met on the plane!” Summer chirped. “I meet some of the most fascinating people on planes!”

“So do I,” Marcus said. An awkward beat passed before he released Claudia from his thunderous gaze. She almost collapsed with relief when he worked up a crooked smile for the others. “Should we go inside? I want to see the place.”

“Of course!” Summer sprang into action, held open the front door and waved everyone into the sunny and soaring two-story foyer, which was framed with exposed timbers and floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the dock and river. “Come in, come in!”

“This is fabulous,” Claudia said, to murmurs of agreement from the men. “Absolutely amazing.”

She inventoried every exquisite detail, thinking that a being a rock god certainly had its benefits. The roaring flames inside the fieldstone fireplace looked like a perfect place for roasting a whole bison. Weathered leather sofas and chairs, interspersed with rough-hewn tables, benches and more chairs, sat upon Native American rugs. Ethnic hangings, photographs and carvings clung to the walls. Antlers were a crucial component of the decor, from the wrought-iron chandelier hanging over the seating area, which sported a curly set of ram antlers, to a ten-pointed version from some sort of antelope or deer, to the impressive longhorn set adorning the painting above the mantel.