The man in question continued to amaze her. Whoever thought Mr. Philanderer would turn out to be so domesticated?
Taking advantage of the moment or privacy, Hannah dug in her suitcase for a clean set of clothes. When she was dressed, she stepped into her slippers.
Feeling warmer, and relatively protected by the clothing, Hannah plugged in her blow dryer and went to work on her hair with a round brush. She was making progress, the long strands no longer dripping, when Justin breezed into the room.
“The sheets are in the washer. It’ll shut off in about fifteen minutes.” He went to a dresser to remove fresh clothing. “As you’ll note, I remade the bed.”
“And now you want applause?”
He grinned. “No, a kiss will do for a reward.”
“I don’t think so.” She shook her head.
Up went the eyebrow. “You don’t trust me?”
“Not for a heartbeat.” Trying not to laugh at his sorrowful expression, she grabbed her brush. “You get your shower, while I finish drying my hair.”
He heaved a deep, noisy sigh. “You’re one tough lady, sweet Hannah. You know that?” Grumbling loudly, Justin strode to the bathroom.
Never in a million years would Hannah have believed she could have so much fun with a man. She had hardly even laughed with-Well forget that one. He had been much too serious and full of himself, among other things.
Giggling Hannah decided on the spot that she would stay on, perhaps until the end of the week with Justin. She felt relaxed and happy. Why not enjoy his company, the fun and laughter, if only for a few more days?
After all, once the few days were over, she’d be flying back to her real life in Philadelphia. Justin would be heading back to his ranch in Montana.
They’d probably never see each other again.
The thought was oddly depressing.
Eight
Hannah was home in her apartment in Philadelphia. It was Sunday. She had flown into the airport late the previous Friday and had been home for a week and one day.
She had yet to hear a word from Justin.
Well, what had she expected? Hannah asked herself, making a half-hearted attempt to dust the living room. They had spent five days together. Five wonderful days that had left her so relaxed, her assistant had noted it the moment she had walked into the small suite of offices Monday morning.
“You look positively glowing,” Jocelyn had exclaimed. “Were you in South Dakota, or did you hide away somewhere in some exclusive spa?”
Hannah had to laugh. Actually, she felt terrific. “No spa, I promise I was in South Dakota the whole time.”
Jocelyn leveled a measuring look at her. “Well, something put that sparkle in your eyes. A man?”
Hannah knew her soft sigh and satisfied smile gave her away. The warmth spreading up her throat and over her cheeks was answer enough. Damn her new propensity to blush.
“Aha!” Jocelyn crowed. “Was he handsome? Was it romantic? Was he great in bed?”
“Jocelyn, really.” Now Hannah’s cheeks were burning. “You know I’m never going to answer such personal questions.”
“Sure.” Jocelyn grinned. “But I don’t need a blow-by-blow-” she giggled “-pardon the pun. Your expression says it all.”
Hannah blinked, startled. “It’s that obvious?”
“Yes, boss. I’m sorry, but it is. You needed a break.”
That was Monday. This was Sunday. Hannah was no longer amused, or glowing. She was hurting inside, and she feared the tiny lines of tension were about to make another appearance.
But then, she had known all along that their moment out of time couldn’t last. What had she been secretly hoping for, that Justin would be on the very next flight east, following her back?
No, she hadn’t hoped for that, even secretly.
But one phone call just to find out if she had arrived safely would have been nice, not to mention thoughtful. Had she really believed Justin was thoughtful? Hannah chided herself. Just because he helped her prepare meals, pick up their clothes that were forever flung without care to the floor, smooth the bedding that was inevitably rumpled? Because the last time they had made love there had been a sense of desperation? And because his goodbye kiss had been deep, lingering, as if he couldn’t bear to stop?
Hannah knew better. At any rate she should have. They had played house, she and Justin, like little kids. Okay, not exactly like kids.
Hannah shivered at the memory. It had been fun, playing house together. It had been more than fun, it had been wonderful, an awakening of her senses and sensuality.
Tears misted her eyes. Why the hell had she gone and done something as stupid as fall in love with him? For she had fallen in love with Justin, no strings for me, Justin, philanderer extraordinaire.
Not fair, Hannah, she told herself, swiping her eyes with her fingertips. He had never made any promises. He had been up-front with her, had offered her nothing more than fun and games. She had gone into the affair with her eyes open. She had no one to blame but herself for the empty feelings of pain and longing she was experiencing now.
Life does go on, Hannah assured herself, and so would she. There was no other choice. She had friends, a career, a business to run…a living room to dust.
Justin was on the prowl, roaming the house, unsettled and cranky. Karla would attest to it; she had been witness to his moodiness. She was beginning to eye him warily, as if uncertain what he might do.
It was the weather, he told himself, staring out the window at the nearly foot of snow on the ground that was growing higher in the driving blizzard. He felt trapped, that’s what was bugging him, he thought, turning away from the scene.
Justin knew damn well his restlessness had nothing at all to do with the inclement weather. He had been raised in Wyoming, and had lived in Montana for almost ten years, had taken over the running of the ranch soon after he had graduated college. Snow, ice, winter and spring rains hadn’t bothered him, except in regard to worrying about the horses.
But Justin knew full well that the animals were in their stable stalls; warm, fed and watered by Ben and the rest of his ranch hands.
“Can I get you something, Justin?” Karla asked, as he stalked into the kitchen.
Wondering what in hell he was doing there, Justin said the first thought that jumped to mind. “Is there any coffee in the pot?” It was a dumb question, and he knew it. There was always coffee in the pot. It wasn’t always freshly made, but he had never demanded fresh, although he preferred it that way.
“Yes.” Karla smiled at him as she opened a cabinet and took down a mug. “I just made it.” She shook her head when he reached for the mug. “Sit down, I’ll get it for you.”
Not about to argue with the woman who prepared some of the best meals he had ever tasted, Justin moved to the table, collecting a carton of milk as he went by the fridge.
The coffee was exactly as he liked it, strong, hot and freshly brewed.
“Would you like something to go with that?” she asked, carrying her own mug to the table. “Cookies, a slice of pie or coffee cake?”
Ever since Ben had brought Karla to the ranch as his bride, there were always cookies in the pantry and pie in the fridge. He liked her coffee cake best…although her apple pie was also delicious.
Justin glanced at the wall clock. It was several hours to go until suppertime. “Couple of cookies sound good. Do you have any of those oatmeal, raisin, walnut cookies?”
Karla laughed and headed for the pantry. “As those are both Ben’s and your favorite, I always keep a supply on hand. I baked a double batch yesterday.”
While Karla was inside the large storage room, Ben strolled into the kitchen from the ranch office, where he had been checking stock on the computer. In effect, Ben had virtually taken over the running of the ranch, leaving Justin feeling superfluous and adrift. He didn’t resent Ben…how could he resent a man for doing a great job, especially when the man was next thing to a member of the family?