Virgin Seduction

house?'

'Well…not house, exactly.' Her smile was brief and distracted; there was so much to see. 'In boarding school, we were required to clean our own rooms and make our beds, so I do know how to sweep and dust. Frankly, it is not that difficult.'

Cade grunted. Through an open double doorway she saw him put the cooler on a table in what could only be the kitchen. 'Well, I told you it was primitive.'

'I do not think it is primitive at all.' Leila had visited some of the poorest parts of Tamir with her mother and sisters. She knew what primitive was. She clasped her hands together to contain her excitement. 'I think it is… perfect.'

In fact, she had fallen in love with the house at her first glimpse of it. It was made of yellowish-brown stones, with a wooden veranda that ran straight across the front and a roof made of dark gray composition shingles, which Cade told her had replaced the original wooden ones. And the room she was standing in seemed so familiar to her she was sure she must have seen one just like it-perhaps more than one-in western movies. At one end there was a large fireplace made of the same stone as the outside of the house, with a sofa and several comfortable-looking chairs gathered in front of it. The floors were made of wood, covered with rugs made of cloth that had been tightly braided and then coiled. There was a set of antlers, perhaps from a deer, above the fireplace, and, oddly, the actual skin of a cow thrown over one of the chairs, like an afghan.

She let out her breath in a happy gust. She thought it was just what a house on a ranch in Texas should be.

She went into the kitchen where Cade was taking things out of the cooler and putting them into the refrigerator. He looked around at her, or rather, at the overnight bag that was hanging from her shoulder. 'I'll show you where to put your things, and then we can have some breakfast.'

Leila nodded. Once more she was too busy looking to reply. The kitchen had white-painted cupboards and blue linoleum on the floor, and a yellow plastic cover on the table that was covered with tiny blue and white flowers. Directly opposite the wide door from the living room, another door with a window in the top opened onto what appeared to be a screened-in porch. Just to one side of the door, a window above the sink looked out on dusty- looking trees, and beyond that, the barn and corrals she had seen from the airplane. Her heart quickened when she saw movement in the corrals. Horses.

'Bedrooms are in here.' Cade was waiting for her in another doorway that opened off the kitchen to the right. He moved aside to let her pass, and she found herself in a small hallway with an open doorway- including the one in which she stood-in each of its four walls. Through one she could see a bathroom, with a deep iron tub with feet shaped like claws. The other two were bedrooms.

'Take your pick,' he said, waving her toward them. 'I think they're both about the same.'

Leila peeked into both rooms, then walked through the doorway closest to her and placed her bag on the bed. She noticed that it was a much smaller bed than the one in Cade's room in Houston, but she did not linger and look as she had in the other parts of the house. There was nothing personal here, nothing to tell her which room Cade used when he visited the ranch. She felt a strangeness in being there with him so close behind her, and yet, so very far away. With so much unsaid between them there was awkwardness in the silence.

But, she thought, that is why I am here, because these things must be spoken of-they will be spoken of. But not now. This is not the right time.

Leaving her bag on the bed, she fixed a smile on her face and turned. 'You said we could have breakfast? That is good, because I am hungry.' She had eaten some toast with her one cup of coffee before leaving that morning, but it seemed a long time ago. 'What must I do to help?' She felt strange little showers of shivers inside and rubbed her arms, though she wasn't cold.

'You want to help?' Cade looked at her, again with that so superior half smile that so clearly said he didn't see how she could. Leila was beginning to be very annoyed by that smile.

Back in the kitchen, he opened a drawer and took out a metal tool, which he placed on the countertop. Then he opened a cupboard and took out a large brown can. 'If you want to help, why don't you open that while I get the coffeemaker going.'

Leila picked up the tool, which was unlike anything she had seen before. It had two legs that opened when she pulled them, like a pair of scissors. Obviously, she was meant to use the tool to open the brown can, which contained coffee, she could see that. I will not ask him. I will not

My God, thought Cade, she doesn't even know how to use a can opener. He wondered if she'd ever seen one before.

'It's…a can opener,' he said gruffly, moving closer to her.

She glanced up at him-a patient look, as if he had said something stupid. 'Yes, I know. It is just that I have never seen one…like it…before.' There was a smudge of color in each cheek, and he wondered if it was pride, or embarrassment.

'It's, uh…pretty much just your classic can opener.' He edged closer still. 'They're kind of a basic necessity around here, since about the only things we can leave in the house are canned goods. Power's unreliable, so we can't leave anything in the freezer. And then there are the mice…'

'Mice?' She was gazing at him, not with the maidenly horror he'd expected, but with a bright and childlike delight. 'Oh, do we have mice? I would very much like to see one.' She tilted her head and dimpled thoughtfully. 'I do not think I have ever seen a real mouse before.'

Why am I not surprised? Cade thought. Aloud he muttered, 'They're a damned nuisance.'

'Perhaps you should keep a cat.'

'Who'd take care of it when there's nobody here?'

'Perhaps…your neighbor, what was it? Mrs. MacGruder? Since they must come to tend the horses anyway?' Her eyes were wide and ingenuous. He wondered how he'd come to be close enough to her to see himself reflected in their depths.

'What, once a day? Nah-animals need attention. You can't just leave them on their own all the time.'

'Oh yes,' she said softly, 'that is true.' And she looked at him just long enough before she said it that he felt a mean little stab of guilt.

'Here, why don't you let me do that?' he said roughly, reaching for the can opener.

She held it out of his reach. 'No. I would like you to show me how to do it.' And she added as a breathless afterthought, 'Please.'

Cade was awash with feelings he didn't know what to do with. Part of it was anger, or something close, and part was the kind of thing he imagined he might be feeling if he were trapped on a rocky shoal with the tide rising fast. And part of it, if he was honest with himself, was just plain old sexual excitement. It was her body heat, her woman's scent, partly familiar, partly exotic. He should never have let himself get so close to her. He was having trouble keeping his breathing quiet so she wouldn't hear how fast it was. He hoped she couldn't hear his heart hammering.

'Okay, here's what you do-here, let me show you.' He reached again for the can opener.

And again she pulled it away, out of his reach. 'No-I want to do it. Just please show me how.'

What could he do? Gingerly as a rattlesnake wrangler, he reached across her and covered her hands with his. 'First you have to open these up…' God, he could hardly breathe. 'Then, you chomp down on the edge of the can- like this, see? That little hiss means you broke the seal. Then, you turn this…'

He felt like he was going to pass out, honest to God-just like the way he felt when he hadn't eaten in way too long. Only he didn't think he'd ever known hunger quite like this, couldn't remember ever wanting a woman the way he wanted this one. No, not wanting, needing. Like, if he couldn't have her right now, this minute, he might keel over right there on the floor.

It occurred to him that her hands weren't moving.

'I think we are finished,' she whispered, and she was looking at him, not the can.

Oh, yeah, Cade thought, we're finished, all right. All his high-minded resolve? Dead…cooked. This was going to happen, and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it.

It had come down to a matter of seconds…heartbeats. He could feel her heat and her scent seeping through his shirt and into his skin. His nerve-endings were learning the shape of her breast. She looked up at him and he stared down at her parted lips, and his throat was parched, thirsty almost to the point of madness for the taste of