One Winter's Night

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“Kit, it’s beautiful. I’m sure she’ll love it.”

He scratched the back of his head. “Well, she might have to wait for it. Christmas is next weekend and I’ve got to be in Chicago and Omaha for half the week. I’m debating between canceling some important meetings or just giving her the desk and promising the chair after New Year’s.”

She balked. “You’ve got to do both.”

Her insistence made him smile. He liked people who didn’t accept limitations. It was one of the first things that had attracted him to her. Not many people could lift his own standards on what he was capable of, but he’d learned pretty quickly that Monica could be one of them.

“What’s left to do?” she asked.

“Cassie, my niece, asked for pink flowers.” He stepped to a table where he’d stored an array of craft paints and brushes. “The table needs one more undercoat then I need to figure how I want to paint the roses. I’ll need a clear gloss over that, then I need to repeat the whole process for the chair.”

“You know what would be pretty—” She stepped to the counter and surveyed his paints, and he watched as she grabbed a brush and a paper bag and began mixing colors.

Like a master, she created an almost identical replica of his roses on paper, using several shades of pink, white and red to add depth to the finished product. It blew away anything he’d been thinking.

“I had no idea you could paint.”

“I minored in art in college. Economics, math and accounting could be grueling, and I needed an escape. And since I’m tone deaf, music was out.” She nudged the paper toward him and spoke casually as though she hadn’t just floored him with her artistry. “What do you think of something like this?”

“It would be beautiful.”

“Then why don’t you get back to work on your chair and let me finish the desk?”

He blinked. “You wouldn’t mind? Sweetheart, I didn’t bring you out here to help me finish my niece’s Christmas present.”

Stepping close, she pressed her palms to his chest and whispered. “It will cost you some serious sexual favors.”

He circled his arms around her and wondered how many more wonderful surprises this intriguing woman had up her sleeve. He’d love to spend a lifetime finding out. But recognizing the need to take this slowly he kept those intentions to himself and instead kissed her gently on the cheek. “I’m going to have a hell of a time repaying you.”

5

MONICA RELAXED ON THE floor of Kit’s great room, enjoying the roaring fire in the fireplace while Kit rubbed her shoulders. It was early Sunday evening and they would be flying back to Chicago tonight, though if she could be granted one Christmas wish, it would be to stay here a few more days.

They’d spent yesterday and this morning finishing the desk for Kit’s niece. Hardly a chore, she’d found the project relaxing and revitalizing. She hadn’t dabbled with anything artistic since college. The moment she’d started her first internship at a New York investment firm, she’d been entirely focused on a career in finance. From that point on, her appreciation for art had been restricted to collecting pieces made by others, and she’d forgotten the joy of creating something herself.

In fact, she’d forgotten a lot of joys before spending these past few days with Kit. When they weren’t busy in the barn, they were enjoying his delicious meals. They’d taken a long walk on his property down to the lake where he sometimes fished. They’d ridden one of his ATVs to the top of the ridge to view the sunset. And, of course, when they weren’t doing those things, they were discovering the many ways they could pleasure each other in bed.

It was the type of weekend she could get used to, escaping the noise of the city for a simple weekend on a ranch, not to mention the wonderful company. And as Kit’s fingers stroked pure luxury through her muscles, she wondered why this peach of a man hadn’t already been snatched up by a deserving woman.

“Why aren’t you taken?” she asked, lolling her head to the side as he dug those talented fingers into the curve of her neck.

“I’ve come close a couple times.”

“You’re a great catch. How could they let you get away?”

He laughed and kissed her bare shoulder. “Sweetheart, whether or not I’m a catch depends on what you’re fishing for. I’ve got businesses in three states, a home in Texas and a sailboat down in Florida. I’m on the go a lot, and at first, women find that exciting. But eventually they want more than I can give.”