Staring out over the landscape of Minnesota green, she tried to lose her thoughts in the beautiful view from the sundeck. She smoothed the lotion on her shoulders, stretching her arm to try to reach more of her back.
"I'll do that."
Alanna jumped at the sound of Rolt's voice. Her rounded eyes saw him standing behind the screened sliding door leading into the dining room. His suit jacket was off and hanging by the hook of his finger behind him.
She glanced quickly at her wristwatch lying on the table beside her lounge chair.
"I didn't expect you for another hour," she murmured self-consciously. "You did say one o'clock?"
He slid the screen open and stepped onto the planked sundeck. "I got away earlier than I thought," he shrugged, and tossed his jacket over the back of a lawn chair, continuing his path to her.
Alanna set the bottle of lotion down, flustered by his early arrival. "I haven't even started lunch. I—" She started to rise, but the hand on her shoulders pushed her back down.
"It doesn't matter. I'm not particularly hungry…for lunch." There was an infinitesimal pause before he added the last word that had Alanna's heart skipping beats.
Her lashes fluttered down in silent acceptance of the hunger of her senses for his touch. The lounge chair creaked once in protest when his weight settled in the cushion behind her. The coolness of the suntan lotion was on her back, then firmly smoothed over her skin.
Not an inch of her back was ignored. His hands followed the curve of her spine to the small of her back, stroking the sensitive skin with disturbing results. Manipulating fingers moved over her waist and ribcage, tantalizingly near the swelling of her breasts, then traveled on to the nape of her neck.
A fire was being kindled inside her, the warmth was building. She knew it would burst into flame at any moment. She moved her shoulders in an instinctive and unwilling signal of protest.
"That should be good enough," she said with a faint breathy catch to her voice.
Rolt didn't stop. "It's more effective against sunburn if it's rubbed in." The husky tone was nearly as seductive as his hands.
"Don't!" Alanna tried to conceal her uneven breathing. She slid forward on the chair's cushion to elude his hands.
With one she was successful, but the other hand curved around the front of her shoulder and half turned her to face him. She had difficulty meeting his gaze, so she looked at the opened front of his shirt, an equally evocative sight. His hand moved to the side of her neck, a thumb raising her chin. His eyes smoldered with the same desire that burned inside her.
"It's still no, is it?" Rolt questioned grimly.
"Yes," Alanna whispered, "it is."
She knew the pulse in her neck was hammering against his fingers, but she couldn't make her heart slow its rapid boat. Her lips had parted slightly, unconsciously inviting. His gaze slipped to them. For a taut second, she wished Rolt would ignore her answer, but it wasn't to be fulfilled as he released her and stood up, the bronze mask of control covering his features.
"I guess you'd better fix lunch s
o I can got back to the office," he said blandly.
Chapter Eight
"I'M AFRAID YOUR SWITCH is burned out," the mechanic said.
Alanna looked at him blankly. When it came to the inner workings of a car, she knew absolutely nothing about it. The only time she thought about it was when the car wouldn't run, as was the case now. "Can you fix it?" she asked anxiously.
"Yeah, I can fix it all right," the man nodded, "but not tonight. I don't have a replacement for your particular model of car on hand. And there isn't time to make it over to the parts store before it closes. I could have it ready for you first thing tomorrow morning."
Alanna sighed and handed the mechanic the keys. "Go ahead and tow it into your shop and fix it. I'll be by in the morning to pick it up."
"Between nine-thirty and ten o'clock, it should be ready," he agreed, and walked away.
"Daddy—" she turned to her father standing in the driveway with her "—can I borrow your car to get home? I'll bring it back in the morning when I pick mine up."
Dorian Powell shook his head regretfully. "I'm sorry, honey, but I have a meeting tonight or I'd be glad to lend it to you. I'll give you a ride home, though."
"Oh, no, dad, I can't let you drive all that way." Alanna felt like a heel refusing him, but she knew what an acceptance of the offer would lead to before she reached home. Her father would suggest that her mother accompany them, just for the drive. Once they arrived, she would be obligated to invite them to see her husband's house. They had been hinting at such an invitation for over a week now. There simply wasn't any way Alanna could explain the separate bedrooms without destroying the image of a happily married couple. "You could drive me to the plant and I can ride home with Rolt. He'll be finished work soon."
Her father's disappointment was obvious, but he couldn't argue with the practical suggestion. "I'll let your mother know where I'm going and be right out."