Ryan hadn't realized he had been figuratively holding his breath until Kelly opened her door.
He knew he was staring at her like a star-struck adolescent, but he couldn't help himself. "You look very nice, Kelly."
Kelly smiled, opening the door wider. "Thank you, and please come in."
She knew she looked very different from the woman he'd seen jumping rope earlier that afternoon. Her hair, brushed off her face, was swept up in a twist on her nape. The sleek style was the perfect complement for a black cap-sleeved off-the-shoulder dress ending at her knees. A pair of sling back animal print leather sandals covered her bare feet.
She admitted to herself that he also looked very nice. A chocolate-brown jacket and matching slacks complemented a finely woven beige, banded-collar linen shirt.
His right hand concealed behind his back, Ryan walked into Kelly's home. The miniature Tiffany-style lamp on a round table cast a warm glow on exquisite antique pieces from another era. An apple-green armchair covered in a watered-silk fabric with a matching footstool was the perfect complement for a lavender-hued sofa dotted with light green sprigs. Classical music played softly from a stereo system hidden from view.
He followed her into the dining area, staring mutely at a table set for two. The crystal, china and silver patterns were exquisite. A multifaceted crystal vase held a bouquet of wispy sweet pea.
Kelly moved closer to Ryan, measuring his stunned expression. "What are you hiding behind your back?"
He blinked several times before handing her a decorative shopping bag. "This is for you."
Kelly took the bag, peering inside. She walked over to a countertop and removed two bottles of chilled red and white wine and a cellophane-wrapped plant. Nestled in a hand-painted pot was a delicate orchid plant.
"It's beautiful, Ryan." Turning, she smiled at him. "Thank you so much."
Angling his head, he returned her smile. "You're welcome."
"We'll have the white wine because I'm making chicken." Grasping his hand, she steered him toward the sofa. "Please make yourself comfortable. Everything should be ready in about ten minutes."
He stopped suddenly, and she lost her balance and bumped into him. They stood motionless, her chest pressed against his arm. Ryan stared down at her under lowered lids. "May I help you with anything?"
Kelly wanted to tell him that he could help assuage the emptiness and loneliness that plagued her whenever she opened the door to the bungalow, or readied herself for bed. Everything that was Ryan Blackstone seeped into her at that moment: his height, the breadth of his shoulders, his penetrating eyes that saw everything, his haunting scent, his deep, drawling baritone voice and the virility that made him so confidently male.
"No, thank you," she said instead.
He held her gaze. "Are you sure, Kelly?"
She felt as if she were being sucked into a sensual vortex from which there was no escape. Kelly knew at that instant she had made a mistake. She never should've invited Ryan to dinner.
She wanted him! It was an awakening realization that left her insides pulsing like the sensations from her erotic dream. And the harder she tried to ignore the truth the more it persisted. She was a normal woman with normal sexual urges.
She had cut herself off from people for two years. At Blackstone Farms she prepared her own meals instead of eating with the other employees in the dining hall. How long, she had to ask herself, was she going to continue to mourn for what was...what would never be again?
It was apparent Ryan was attracted to her - or why else would he have kissed her? And she could honestly admit to herself that she was very attracted to him. Why else would she have invited him to her home?
"Open the wine," she said as she turned and made her way to the kitchen.
A half-smile curved Ryan's mouth as he slipped out of his jacket and laid it over the armchair. Kelly wasn't as composed as she appeared. He had counted the fast beats of her pulse in her delicate throat. He had accepted her invitation because he wanted to spend time alone with her, not frighten her. He had never been one to come on heavy with any woman. If a woman rejected his advances then he retreated honorably.
The only exception was when he'd kissed Kelly in the stable. He'd told himself it was because she had challenged him, but he knew the instant his mouth had covered hers that it was what he'd wanted to do the first time he saw her lush mouth.
Ryan picked up a corkscrew off the countertop while Kelly removed a roasting pan from the oven. The mouthwatering aroma of baked chicken filled the kitchen. "No wonder you don't eat in the dining hall," he said, his gaze fixed on a golden-brown chicken surrounded by little cubes of roast potatoes.
He removed the cork from the wine bottle with a minimum of effort, watching as Kelly transferred the chicken to a platter, surrounding it with the potatoes and rosemary sprigs for a garnish. He washed his hands in the stainless steel sink, and dried them on a terry-cloth towel.
"I'll put that on the table," he said, taking the platter from her grasp.
Kelly emptied the juices from the chicken into a gravy boat, then removed a bowl of tossed greens, chopped celery, radishes and chives from the refrigerator. Reaching for a bottle of vinaigrette dressing she shook it over the salad.
Ryan took the salad bowl and gravy boat, placing them on the table before he pulled back a chair and seated Kelly. He lingered over her head longer than was necessary, inhaling the fragrance of her perfume. The scent claimed a subtle clean freshness bursting with a warm feminine sensuality.
His mother died after a long illness the year he'd turned fourteen, and although he could recall a lot of things about Julia Blackstone, it was her perfume that he remembered most. There was never a time when she hadn't smelled wonderful. She would say that just because she lived on a horse farm it didn't mean she had to smell like a horse. His mother loved the farm while his ex-wife had hated it. Sitting down across from Kelly he wondered whether she would be like Julia or Caroline.
Kelly smiled at Ryan. "Will you please carve the chicken?"
Picking up the carving knife and fork, he cut up the fowl with the skill he demonstrated in surgical procedures. He served her, then himself before filling their glasses with the wine.
Lifting his glass in a toast, he stared at the softness of his dining partner's lush mouth. "I offer you a very special welcome to Blackstone Farms."
Kelly lifted her glass, smiling at him over the rim. "And I accept your special welcome." Putting the glass to her lips, she took a sip. It was excellent. "The wine is wonderful."
Ryan nodded. After a bit of cajoling, he had gotten Cook to give him a bottle from his private stock. "Now that I've seen your home I see why you eat here instead of at the dining hall." He'd found her bungalow warm, inviting, and intimate.
"I eat here because once I come home and shower I'm usually too relaxed to get up and go out again."
"Are you tired now?"
She shook her head. "Not the exhausted kind of tired."
"I know I would be if I spent all day with five energetic kids."
Blushing, Kelly speared a portion of her salad. "How was your day?"
"Uneventful. And I can assure you that I did not have as much fun as you did."
After chewing and swallowing a portion of her salad, she said, "Uneventful as in boring?"
Ryan stared at Kelly, his expression impassive. He shook his head. "Do you find living on a horse farm boring?"
"It certainly hasn't been for me. I found setting up the schoolhouse a challenge, but after meeting the children I'd willingly do it all over again."
"You like teaching?"
"I love it."
"How about the children?"
"What about them?"