More Than a Rancher Read online

  Paul continued down the hall and Sandro regarded Jenna for a moment, obviously trying to think of what to say. She braced herself. Here was the part where the player in him took over. The part that was going to either proposition her or say that he’d gotten carried away and put some distance between them with an apology. And that was okay, she reminded herself. So she’d kissed him. It was a momentary distraction from her real life and now it was time to refocus.

  “Can I see you again?”

  It wasn’t at all what she’d been expecting and her mind went blank. She stared and no answer came.

  “I mean, like a date or something.” He paused, ran a hand through his hair, looked down at the carpet then back at her again with resolve in his dark eyes. “I know it makes no sense for either of us. I can’t be in San Francisco that often. But I want to spend more time with you.”

  Jenna tried to find words. Her first instinct was to say yes, to shout it out. But when had her first instinct ever done right by her? Her whole plan was to follow her brain, not her instincts.

  But instead her mind latched on to his words. I can’t be in San Francisco that often. He wouldn’t be sticking around, which meant there was no chance of a future for them. She’d been working on accepting things in her life as they were, without trying to change the outcome. Could she accept that whatever was between them would be short-term only? Because if she could accept that, she could have a little more time with him. And she knew without one ounce of doubt that she wanted him to kiss her again.

  After all the trouble with Jeff, maybe it was her turn to have a little fun for once. She’d go into this with eyes wide-open, knowing how it would eventually end, not trying to change things she couldn’t. His work in San Francisco was short-term. He’d be gone before he could derail her plans—or her heart.

  “There’s a party next weekend,” she told him. “Saturday night. A big one, for the ballroom. Marlene hosts it at her apartment. Would you like to go?”

  Sandro paused and looked away for a moment. He seemed to be weighing the idea. Then his eyes were on hers again. “I’d like that,” he said.

  “Great! I promised I’d help her set up, so can you meet me there? I’ll get you the directions when you drop Paul off on Saturday morning. The only catch is that I have to spend an hour at the party reading tarot cards.”

  “What? Why?” He was staring at her as if she’d just announced she’d be flying to the moon.

  “It’s a fund-raiser. We’re all asked to lead an activity and the money we earn goes to the scholarship fund.”

  “And you’re a fortune-teller?”

  “No!” She laughed. “You don’t know tarot cards? They can give you guidance about problems. Plus, they’re really cool-looking.”

  “So what do they say about us?” he asked.

  “I don’t know—I’d have to try it first!” Jenna said. She’d thought about it, though, a few times now.

  “You should do it. Maybe it would give us a little guidance.”

  “Guidance for what?” She was playing dumb and they both knew it.

  Sandro crossed the distance between them in two strides and his hands were firm on her shoulders. He looked down at her with an expression of desire so strong it sent her insides into meltdown. Nuclear-style. “Guidance for this thing between us, Jenna. This thing we both know probably shouldn’t happen.”

  And then he kissed her, and she forgot all the problems, complications and reasons why she shouldn’t kiss him back. All she could do was cling to his shoulders as the heat seared her, as his mouth raged over hers, as the hotel disappeared and all that was left was Sandro. And then he set her back on her feet, kissed her once on the nose and was gone down the hall to find his brother.

  With the memory of him blazing across her lips, Jenna stumbled off to the ladies’ room to apply more makeup, and hopefully gain some semblance of calm, before her photo shoot.

  CHAPTER TEN

  IT WAS BEST NOT to look for him every thirty seconds, Jenna reminded herself, dragging her eyes away from the entrance to the party. The trick was to focus on what Frank was telling her about his recent trip to Singapore. Frank was a student in her salsa class. He worked as a computer programmer and he was actually pretty cute in a nerdy-scientist sort of way. So why was she watching the door for a chef-cowboy-ladies’ man who didn’t even live close enough to have a real relationship with?

  Jenna sighed. The answer was simple. Because when he’d kissed her up against the hotel wall at her dance competition, it had scrambled her brain, her common sense and possibly her entire nervous system. Memories of what it had felt like in his arms had her drifting off when she should be focused. She swore she could still feel the trails his fingers had left behind on her body. It was clear she was doomed to repeat her pattern of falling for unavailable men, and the worst part was, right now she didn’t even care. She just wanted to see him again.

  When Frank paused for breath, Jenna excused herself and went to look for her friend Tess.

  Once she found her, Jenna wished she hadn’t. Tess was leaning against the wall by the front door, relaxed, alluring and so very confident. She was looking up at Sandro, who was looking down at her with his head tilted. Probably listening to something witty and provocative that Tess was saying, because that was how Tess was.

  Tess—tall, blonde and gorgeous in everyday life—looked completely irresistible dressed up in some kind of black sheath that wrapped and ruched in all the right places. Jenna felt panic rise at the very real possibility that Sandro would end up going home with one of her best friends tonight.

  She couldn’t be upset with Tess. Her friend had no idea that Jenna was even interested in someone. Jenna hadn’t wanted to talk about Sandro—she couldn’t even explain him to herself. So she’d said nothing about him to Tess when they’d met up for lunch earlier this week.

  If Sandro really was the womanizer Jack and Gavin described, then he just might be the perfect guy for Tess. The thought sent a pang through Jenna’s heart, but it made sense. Tess didn’t like relationships. In fact, when she bothered with men at all, it seemed to be mainly for one-night stands. Tess would be perfectly happy with Sandro’s wild ways. And if Jenna stepped out of the picture and let that happen, she might make them both happy and save herself a lot of heartache.

  The thought soured her mood. She didn’t want Sandro to be with Tess. She didn’t want him to reciprocate her friend’s interest. But honestly, who could resist her? Jenna stared at her friend with envy. Tess was willowy and shimmery. Next to her sleek blond hair and perfect figure, Jenna’s red-haired, curvy self disappeared from view. Eclipsed. She’d experienced it before when she’d been out with Tess, that feeling that she was fading into the background as the men crowded around her sexy friend. Eventually Jenna had gotten used to it and learned to laugh about it.

  But this time she didn’t want to disappear. Just don’t cry, she commanded herself. When you find them off in a corner somewhere, with Sandro’s strong hands wrapped around one of your best friends, remember that you were warned about him, and don’t cry.

  Jenna couldn’t stand to watch any longer. Turning blindly, she almost crashed into a waiter carrying a tray of mixed drinks. Jenna grabbed a glass for each hand, ignoring the waiter’s shocked expression, and headed to the dining room. She stopped at the sideboard and took a gulp from one glass, which proved to be a gin and tonic. Not her favorite, but she took another sip of the bitter concoction and tried to will away the tears that burned behind her eyes.

  Why was she upset? She wasn’t dating Sandro. If anything was going to happen between them, it would only be a short-term fling. But somehow the thought of him with Tess was affecting her and suddenly she wished her friend wasn’t here tonight. Which showed how messed up her thinking was, because she loved Tess dearly and her friend was also one of the bigge
st contributors to the ballroom’s scholarship program. Many of Jenna’s students had benefited from her generosity.

  She drained her first drink, set the glass down and coughed. The gin tasted just as bad on the last sip as it had on the first. She picked up her second glass and brought it to her lips.

  “Easy there, Red.” She looked up, shocked to hear Jack’s nickname for her, and inhaled her drink. Sandro was beside her and his large hand patted her back as she sputtered. Great. Very dignified, Jenna.

  “Hi,” Jenna gasped, eyes watering as the last hideous drop of gin seared her throat. “You called me Red!” It came out as a croak.

  “I borrowed it from Jack. Seems to suit you pretty well.” Sandro twisted the top off a bottle of water. “Drink this,” he commanded. She brought the bottle to her lips and let the icy water wash away the choking gin.

  “Seems like maybe I got here too late, if you’re drinking like that. Did Brent give you trouble?” His face was hard suddenly and he looked around as if he was ready to take his revenge for whatever injury Brent could have caused her in his absence.

  Jenna’s voice was hoarse from coughing, but her heart was warm. He was here, and not with Tess. And it shouldn’t matter as much as it did. “So far I’ve managed to stay in a different room than Brent. It’s worked pretty well. I’m glad you came.”

  “So why the boozing?”

  Because I thought you were going to sleep with my friend. “I was having a rough night,” she answered.

  “Well...” His smile soothed her troubled heart. “Maybe your night will get better.”

  “Maybe it will,” she told him. It just had. She gingerly wiped her eyes, still watering from the gin and the coughing fit. “And I’ve recently learned that no matter how bad it gets, a gin and tonic is not the answer.”

  Sandro laughed, and his smile eased his normally serious expression. He was wearing dark jeans and a black retro-looking Western shirt. His tousled dark hair curled over his forehead, and Jenna resisted the urge to run her fingers through it.

  Then she noticed he’d grown quiet, leaning on the sideboard and looking out over the sea of people in the crowded room. “So I met a woman by the front door. She was really...er...welcoming. Eventually I figured out that she’s a good friend of yours.”

  Jenna’s stomach knotted. Knowing her luck, he was probably going to suggest a three-way. Tess’s wild lifestyle hadn’t really bothered Jenna before, but they’d also never been interested in the same guy before. She feigned ignorance. “I assume you’re talking about Tess?”

  Sandro nodded, one corner of his mouth up in a half smile. “She’s quite a character.”

  “She can be very...um...enthusiastic,” Jenna replied, hating the way her voice halted and stuttered. “She just enjoys flirting. And I never told her that we were...” She stumbled again. What were they anyway? “You know...well, that you were coming here because of me.”

  “Well, I wasn’t planning to take her up on her offer anyways.” He was grinning now and he cocked an eyebrow, all trouble. “Though I was impressed—it was quite creative.”

  “I’m sure it was.” Jenna flushed. What had Tess said? She would have to grill her friend later. But whatever Tess had tried, the important thing was, it hadn’t worked. Sandro was here with her and even if it meant nothing in the long run, it meant something now. It meant that at least for tonight, he’d chosen a date with Jenna over wild sex with her stunning friend.

  * * *

  SANDRO STUDIED JENNA as she sipped the water he’d given her. She hadn’t really seemed like a partier, but finding her here, downing a gin and tonic like it was water, had him worried. In fact a lot of things about this party worried him. Jenna’s friend Tess, for one. He’d shown up here later than planned, eager to see Jenna. Instead he’d encountered a sexy blonde who had pressed herself against him and whispered suggestions that involved a bed upstairs and her complete lack of underwear.

  A year ago he wouldn’t have hesitated in taking her up on the offer. But tonight he found little appealing about the idea of sex with a stranger. So he’d mentioned he was here to meet Jenna, and the sex goddess, though obviously surprised, hadn’t batted an eyelash when telling him that Jenna was one of her best friends.

  He found himself once again feeling protective of Jenna. Her supposed best friend was trying to seduce her date and her dance partner was trying to seduce her. He’d hoped to leave all this type of shallow intrigue behind in New York, but here it was in San Francisco, reminding him of one more reason he’d decided to return to his small town.

  But Jenna wasn’t in his small town. That thought had made him uneasy. He wanted to be the guy Jenna took to parties. He wanted to see her bright blue eyes look to him for laughter and connection. He wanted to meet people with her, see places with her and take her home at the end of the night.

  He looked over at her, wondering if she had similar thoughts. She was watching the people in front of them, who were in an animated discussion about some dance step called ochos. Her bright blue dress dipped down to show her muscled back. He fought the urge to wrap his hands around her tiny waist; the feel of it had haunted him since that evening in the hotel.

  He grabbed a beer off a passing waiter’s tray just for something to do. Something to do other than look at the way Jenna’s dress hugged her incredible curves. She looked back at him, and he wondered if she’d noticed him staring. He took a sip of his beer, savoring the bitter taste he rarely allowed himself.

  “Show me around this place?” he asked. “It’s not every day I get to hang out in a San Francisco penthouse.”

  They wandered through the crowd. It seemed like an eclectic mix of dancers, students, and Marlene’s friends and family. People clad in their designer best mingled with the quirky folks who were drawn to ballroom dance. A few couples were in full dance costumes—maybe there was going to be a performance?

  Jenna led the way through French doors and out onto a terrace that overlooked the high-rise skyline of the city. There was a dance floor set up and a DJ was playing a fast salsa number. Several couples were on the dance floor, dancing casually, looking as if they were having fun. Jenna stopped by the railing at the edge of the terrace and Sandro inhaled the sharp, cool air. The lit buildings around them sparkled with a rare clarity in a city that spent so much time shrouded in fog and mist.

  “So how is it spending time in a city again?” Jenna asked.

  Trust her to find the topic that was the most problematic, the most relevant. If he’d believed in psychics, he’d swear Jenna was one of them. He tried to think of a way to answer that question that wouldn’t involve talking about his past. “It’s a lot more relaxed here than in New York,” he finally told her. “I think it suits me a bit better.”

  “But you wouldn’t want to stay in San Francisco?” she asked him, and then blushed immediately.

  He glanced at her sharply. Was she dropping some kind of hint? He had to be honest with her. “I don’t want to live in a city again. Ever.”

  She studied him closely and he realized he’d spoken too vehemently. He knew she was about to ask about his time in New York.

  Desperate for distraction, he set his beer down. “I can’t believe I’m saying this—” he held out his hand “—but do you want to dance?”

  Her look of surprise was so enormous it made him laugh. “Hey!” He took the bottle of water out of her hand and set it on the ledge. “My little brother isn’t the only one with moves. Don’t forget, I lived in Spain, I lived in New York—I’ve been around a dance floor or two.”

  The salsa song was over and now it was Ella Fitzgerald singing slow. Despite his brave words, Sandro was frantically scanning his brain, trying to remember the rhythm for a fox-trot. It came in a flash of relief as he took his first step on the dance floor, pulling Jenna into a close hold that he hoped was at lea
st somewhat correct. Two slow steps and two quick ones. He tried to lead firmly as he stepped forward with his left foot. To his great satisfaction, she followed him easily and they made a silent circuit of the dance floor. Sandro attempted to look nonchalant, or at least lost in important thoughts, rather than like what he really was—a guy who was carefully counting the steps.

  “How do you know this?” she asked him in evident surprise as he turned her under his arm on the slow steps and brought her back in smoothly.

  He tried not to look as relieved and triumphant as he felt at his success. “I had Paul teach me a few moves before I came here tonight. He got a big kick out of it, let me tell you.”

  Jenna laughed. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who was willing to be schooled by your little brother,” she joked.

  Sandro spun her again. It was easier this time. “A year or two ago, maybe not. But life makes you humble, you know? And he’s a cool kid—if it didn’t improve my dancing, at least it made him laugh.”

  “You’re a good brother, Sandro. Thanks for letting him study dance with me.”

  The familiar stress reared up again. He hesitated, lost the rhythm.

  “What is it?” Jenna asked.

  Sandro looked down at her. She was all kindness and caring. His words came pouring out, even though he knew they made him sound weak. “No one knows about his dancing right now, so he’s happy. But at some point it’s going to come out that Paul is taking these classes. I just don’t look forward to seeing the look on his face once my family starts in on him. Once he’s spent a few months living under the label of that boy who dances just like I was that boy who cooks.”

  Trying to stop the worry, he pulled Jenna in and inhaled her scent. Cinnamon and jasmine, he decided—he couldn’t remember inhaling anything so intoxicating. He pulled her in tighter to get closer to it, even though a nagging voice inside was reminding him that there was no point getting close to her. But he pushed that voice aside and breathed her in, letting himself get lost. At least for a song.