Bidding on a Texan Page 8

  Gina hesitated for a second, but then gamely climbed in.

  He shut the door and left his arm circled around her.

  Matias was a speedy driver, leaving Gina with little choice but to brace herself against Rafe’s shoulder as they skimmed along the gravel road. He loved the feel of her in his lap, her soft buttocks and firm thighs pressing down on his, her warm shoulder tucked against his, and the side of her breast just grazing his chest.

  Arm on the rest, he let his fingertips brush the side of her thigh. Her pants were thin and taut, and he imagined he could feel the satin of her skin beneath the fabric. Loose wisps of her hair fanned his cheek, and he inhaled the light citrus scent, thinking he’d never look at oranges the same way again.

  Matias rocked the truck to a stop at the trailhead, and Rafe opened the passenger-side door. He was gratified when Gina didn’t jump straight out. She seemed to take a little time, accepting the arm he offered and slipping down to the ground.

  * * *

  The path to the old windmill was wide and scenic as it wound toward the river.

  Gina was keeping up, even though her boots seemed far from ideal for the dusty walk.

  “That’s the spot,” Quentin said as they came out on the flat grassy meadow.

  He felt like a prize heifer being posed for a money shot. But then Gina smiled encouragingly, and he thought about the return trip with her on his lap.

  “Put on the hat and lean your elbow on the post,” Quentin instructed, lining up his camera and adjusting his position. “Now look to the south. This light is amazing. Magic hour.”

  The photographer had Rafe move around for a dozen more shots.

  “What are you going to do with all these pictures?” he asked Gina once he was finished.

  “A montage for each of you. I’ve got the tech team at Edmond putting together the website.”

  “Whatever works.” He loved watching her face in the soft light, listening to her sweet voice.

  “We’ll also do a behind-the-scenes house tour as a teaser and an opener to the program.”

  “Rusty agreed to that?”

  “I figure it counts as part of the auction.”

  “I’m not the one you have to convince.”

  She frowned at that. “But you think it’s a good idea, right?”

  Given the chance, Rafe would watch a video on where Gina lived—too bad it wouldn’t include her bedroom.

  He pictured her surrounded by pastels and florals, stretched out on a queen-size bed, dressed in silk and satin, or maybe lace. His fingers twitched with the need to touch her, and he subconsciously moved closer still.

  A breeze blew the strands of her hair over her pink cheeks. His gaze dropped to her full lips, and he suddenly realized the silence had stretched between them. She was waiting for him to react. Too bad he couldn’t remember what she’d said.

  Matias’s and Quentin’s voices grew more distant as they worked their way along the riverbank.

  “I’m impressed,” Rafe answered, meaning it on a whole bunch of levels.

  “It’s really coming together.”

  The breeze picked up again, and her hair fluttered across her face. Without thinking, he brushed it back. His fingertips fanned her cheek, and they both stilled.

  “I still want to kiss you.” He said the thing that was most on his mind, easing closer. “We got sidetracked the other night.”

  Her gaze flickered to Matias and Quentin beside the river. “That’s a bad idea.”

  Rafe glanced over his shoulder. “They’re not paying any attention.”

  “We’re out in the open.”

  He crossed the final inches between them. “That seems kind of exciting to me.”

  “Rafe.” She put her palm to his chest.

  “What? Don’t tell me no, Princess. It’s just a kiss.”

  She glanced worriedly over her shoulder again. But then she looked back. “Make it quick.”

  Rafe wasn’t sure he could comply with that directive, but he was willing to do his best. He touched her chin, tipping it gently toward him while he shifted to block her from Matias’s and Quentin’s accidental view. Then he bent his head and brought his lips to hers. A wave of sweet tenderness bloomed between them. Driven by instinct, he firmed the kiss, parting his lips. His hand splayed into her hair while the other moved to the small of her back and drew her closer, pressing her tight against the apex of his thighs.

  His mind screamed at him to do more, bring her fully into his arms, deepen the kiss, make it long and thorough, then kiss her over and over and over again.

  A small moan vibrated from her lips, and her hands squeezed down on his shoulders.

  He was struggling on the ragged edge of control.

  “I don’t think so,” Matias called out.

  Rafe jerked away.

  Matias laughed, but when Rafe checked he was laughing at something Quentin had said. Neither of them had looked this way.

  “Sorry,” Rafe rasped, turning back to Gina. “They didn’t see.”

  Her cheeks were fully flushed now, and her lips were deep red. Her eyes seemed to glow with an inner desire. “We can’t.”

  “We didn’t.” At least they hadn’t done anything that was anywhere near what Rafe had wanted to do.

  Out of desperation, he forced an air of nonchalance. “It was nothing, just a simple kiss.”

  Six

  After their explosive kiss, Gina avoided Rafe in the days leading up to the auction. It might have been nothing to him, but that “simple” kiss had rocked her world.

  She’d been kissed in the past, had prior romances. Which amounted to fleeting relationships compared to most of her friends. She’d never been head over heels about a man, and maybe that’s why her kissing track record was so lackluster. But not anymore. Rafe’s lip-lock had shown her what was possible. It was embarrassing to admit how badly she wanted to do it again.

  Luckily, she was busy, the busiest she’d ever been, taking care of the auction details. She was also energized by the work. It felt good to matter, to have what she did be important to other people.

  All that effort was coming together on the morning of the auction. She was nervous, hadn’t slept much the night before and got up early to run through the last-minute details. Now she was hovering in the entrance hall waiting for Mandee Meriweather to arrive for the behind-the-scenes house tour.

  As he’d sworn he would, her father had left for Mustang Point yesterday as soon as the first technical crews showed up.

  Today was a split-second operation. Mandee and the crew would film the tour of the main floor, then the cooking staff would start putting together all the fancy hors d’oeuvres they would serve to the in-person guests. The gardeners were setting out white folding chairs in perfect rows on the lawn between the pool and the back terrace that would serve as the stage.

  For now, three SUVs drove into the roundabout, stopping at the front of the house. Gina opened the double doors wide to welcome Mandee, her director, Sebastian, and the film crew.

  “Good morning,” she called out cheerfully as they all trooped inside, equipment in hand as they fanned out across the marble floor of the hall.

  Mandee removed her sunglasses and looked around with interest.

  “Let’s start out in here,” she said to Sebastian, before sparing Gina a quick glance. “Hi, Gina.”

  Over the past two weeks, she had found the celebrity reporter to be both brusque and demanding. She was the queen of her domain and assumed everyone existed to cater to her whims. Watching Mandee’s behavior, Gina couldn’t help thinking about Rafe telling her she was a princess. She hoped her attitude was better than Mandee’s and hated to think she came across as that entitled.

  “Sweep through the front door.” Mandee continued barking out orders to Sebastian. “And get a panorami
c of the staircase. After that, just follow along.”

  “You heard Mandee,” he said to the camera crew. “We’ll upload footage on the fly to the editor’s suite. We’re on a deadline, people.”

  Everyone started to move as if it were a choreographed play.

  Gina quickly stepped out of the way.

  They followed Mandee from polished wood-paneled rooms to artwork-accented spaces as she exclaimed over the paintings, sculptures and furnishings. They paused in the rotunda, then again in the dining room with Mandee asking viewers to imagine themselves being invited to a lavish party at the Elegance Ranch. Then they stopped in the kitchen, taking note of the blue labradorite countertops before the cameras scanned to the family room where Mandee unexpectedly asked Gina what it was like to grow up in the mansion.

  Caught off guard, she didn’t want to sound like a spoiled princess in her castle. “I liked the stable best,” she said on a little laugh. “Between the horses and the pool, it was hard to get me inside the house.”

  “Most kids make do with a front yard and a sprinkler,” Mandee said. There was an edge to her voice that brought Gina’s hackles up.

  “Royal has some of the best junior horse riders in the state,” Gina added, ignoring the jab. “And most of the cowboys in tonight’s auction grew up on horseback right here in Maverick and Colonial Counties.”

  Mandee looked annoyed by the deflection, but she broadened her smile.

  “On that note,” she said into the closest camera, “please stay tuned to this special broadcast of Royal Tonight! and enjoy this exclusive invitation onto the Elegance Ranch. Better still, make a bid in the auction and come on out to visit us in person here in Royal, Texas.”

  “Cut!” Sebastian called out. Then he made a whirling motion. “Let’s grab some B-roll to flesh it out.”

  The crew started to film various angles of the family room and the kitchen.

  “Main floor only,” Gina reminded them. The last thing she needed was to run afoul of her father.

  “Where’s my greenroom?” the TV host asked to no one in particular.

  Sebastian looked to Gina. “Where can Mandee rest and freshen up?”

  Gina quickly improvised. “Donna?” she called to the head housekeeper, who she knew was hovering off the kitchen waiting for the camera crews to finish.

  Donna quickly appeared. “How can I help?”

  “Can you show Mandee to the guesthouse?” To Sebastian, she said, “It’s nice and private.”

  Nobody had used the guesthouse since Billy had so unceremoniously hightailed it out of Royal. On Rusty’s orders, it had been cleaned top to bottom to erase any sign of his stay. It had two self-contained bedroom suites in case Queen Mandee needed a nap or a shower.

  “Please follow me.” Donna gestured the way toward a door to the back veranda.

  “I’ll have some refreshments sent over,” Gina told Mandee as she left.

  Several members of the cooking staff made their appearance as the camera crew finally trailed out of the kitchen, clearing the way.

  When the last crew member left, Gina grinned at Horatio, the mansion’s head chef. “It’s go time!”

  * * *

  If Rafe had known then what he knew now, he never would have volunteered for the cowboy experience auction. Ever since his auction listing had gone up on the website, he’d been inundated with both questions and questionable offers. Some were about the ranch and the experience, but more were about him personally.

  Quentin should have made clear what he was doing with that sunset profile photo. It had sounded innocuous enough at the time—make Rafe look like a rugged old-time cowboy who knew his way around horses and cattle. And sure, that made sense for the sake of the auction.

  But what Quentin hadn’t said was that he’d planned to make Rafe look like some Hollywood version of a cowboy. The filtered sunset, the tilt of his head, the warm light reflecting off his chin... It was all too much. At first, Rafe had accused Quentin of retouching the picture, misleading anyone who’d be bidding on his experience. But Quentin had sworn he hadn’t retouched a thing.

  Rafe had then tried to get him to take it down and replace it with something less personal, but the website marketing team gave him a flat-out no. And since Rafe hadn’t set any restrictions on how they could use the photos, he couldn’t convince them to change it. They’d also told him his listing was garnering more interest than any of the other cowboys’. Matias was a close second, and Tucker McCoy was a surprising third.

  He walked through the open doors of the Edmond mansion. When he spotted Gina from afar, he admitted he’d do it all over again. To get up close and personal with her, especially to hold her in his arms and share that mind-blowing kiss beside the windmill, it was worth it.

  “Champagne?” a formally dressed waiter asked him.

  “No, thanks.” Rafe wasn’t in the mood for anything sweet and bubbly.

  “If you’d prefer something else, there’s a full bar service available beside the pool.”

  “Thanks,” Rafe said, taking in the well-dressed crowd, feeling out of place in his gray-and-blue-plaid shirt, worn blue jeans and wide leather belt. He’d shaved, trimmed his hair and ironed the shirt, but he’d been forced to wear a pair of scuffed cowboy boots. All he had were the ones he’d worn while working on the ranch, and every pair had seen a whole lot of miles. But he’d promised Gina he’d come dressed like a cowboy.

  Right now, he looked for a place to ditch his Stetson until the bidding started. There was an open room next to him in the entry hall, so he took a look inside. It was a library, and he found a desk in a corner to set his hat. When he turned, Gina was coming in through the archway.

  “Oh, it’s you,” she said. “Glad you’re on time.”

  A shaft of warmth pierced his chest, and he sucked in a tight breath as she came closer.

  She looked sexy and sophisticated, hair up, makeup fresh and bright. Her dress was fitted flat lace, both structured and soft at the same time. The blazer gave her a no-nonsense air, while her pretty sandals accentuated her amazing legs.

  “I’m punctual,” he said for something to add to the conversation. What he really wanted to say was she was beautiful and could they please get out of here and go someplace private.

  “Did you get some champagne?” she asked in full-on hostess mode. She came to a halt a couple feet away.

  “I’m not crazy about champagne,” he admitted.

  “Something else then? A beer?” A sparkle came into her eyes. “I didn’t think to plan for milkshakes.”

  He smiled at that. He liked that she referenced their dinner together. It felt like an in-joke, like they were more of a thing than they actually were. They weren’t even close to being a thing. But he’d like it if they were. What guy wouldn’t?

  “I’m good,” he said, easing as close as he dared.

  “You should go mix and mingle a bit. It could bring up the bids from the local crowd. We had three hundred people register as in-person bidders.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “But I think there are some crashers here.”

  His hands twitched with the need to touch her. “They probably want to check out your mansion.” He looked around the library. “Spectacular place you’ve got here.”

  Gina gave a cursory glance to the bookshelves, the opulent furniture, the rich rug and the chevron hardwood floor that on its own must have cost a fortune. “I can’t take any credit. I didn’t even decorate my own bedroom.”

  Rafe once again tried to picture her bedroom. “Is it like this room?” he asked.

  “You know, Mandee asked me earlier what it was like to grow up here. I didn’t have an answer for her.”

  Rafe squelched his disappointment at not getting any bedroom details. “Do you have an answer now?”

  “Not really.” Gina looked like she was thinking ha
rd. “Maybe. Truth is, it was surreal, like I didn’t have a real home. I had a place where I slept and where I ate, but other people decorated and cleaned them, other folks planned and cooked the meals. My clothes and toys simply appeared. I never needed to want anything. I never had time.”

  The Cortez-Williamses owned a big spread and had wealth and power in their own right, but they’d worked their tails off for every scrap of it, every generation from his three-times-great-grandfather to him and his brothers, and the next generation would do the same. The family money didn’t go into children’s toys, it went into buildings and equipment, feed and vet care, wages for the ranch hands and workers.

  “I’ve done chores since I was seven years old.” He gave a small chuckle of remembrance. “Probably before that, too, although I wouldn’t have been much help.”

  “What kind of chores?”

  “Typical ranch stuff—feeding the chickens, gathering eggs, mucking out the barn. It’s a never-ending cycle of feed and manure.”

  Her expression turned thoughtful again. “I rode the horses, never fed them, though. Well, a handful of oats or a carrot as a treat after riding, but a little girl wouldn’t have been trusted to manage the hay and water.”

  “Tossing out vegetable scraps for the chickens isn’t exactly a complex undertaking. I didn’t have any sisters, so I don’t know what girls would have done growing up. Baking bread, maybe.”

  “Wow. That was sexist.”

  He shrugged. “I only know my own experience. My mom and nana loved the kitchen, and my dad and grandfather spend their lives outdoors. But I suppose you could have made a case for shoveling manure along with the rest of us.”

  “Didn’t ever do that either,” she looked embarrassed to admit.

  “What did you do besides riding?” He was curious now about her life growing up.