close-fitting dress. Amused, he waited and watched to see how she'd solve the dilemma.
For a few moments she stood staring at the blanket, then she closed her parasol, braced the tip of it on the ground, gave a little wiggle, and like a snake recoiling into the snake charmer's basket, lowered herself to the blanket onto one hip and tucked her small booted feet beneath her. Her nicely rounded bottom clad in varying shades of green silk captured his attention, and when she raised her head, it was not his eyes that she focused on, and he knew at once she'd noticed his problem . But how could she not, with the bulge in his britches at eye level to her, and not more than a couple of feet away. She looked up quickly, meeting his gaze, and her face was crimson.
He chucked her under the chin. "Food always takes a man's mind off other things," he said, lowering himself to the blanket, "and I saw some very tempting morsels in your basket."
But not as tempting as the two morsels pressing against her bodice with the rise and fall of her chest. And at the moment, his craving for those two full, round morsels dwarfed his craving for food. His mere mention of kissing her made her breath quicken. He could only imagine how she'd react while laying naked on his bed as he introduced her to the finer art of making love. He'd take as much time as necessary to familiarize her with her body's response to a man's caresses. And by the time he acquainted her with the part of him that was primed and ready, she'd be welcoming him with a passion he was certain she did not know existed.
Priscilla lifted the lid from the basket. "Not knowing who would be bidding on my basket, I tried to include a wide assortment of foods," she said. "If I had known you intended to bid, I would have tried to accommodate your wishes. As it is, you'll have to be satisfied with ordinary fare, as that was all I could find in Cheyenne . It will be some time before the second floor of my building will be converted into living quarters, which makes it inconvenient for preparing any but the most basic meals. But the women will be moving into the boarding house next week, so I'll only have myself to worry about." She reached into the basket and began setting covered bowls on the blanket.
"Maybe I could offer you a solution," Adam said, eyeing a platter of pigeon pies.
Priscilla looked at him, curious. "I can't imagine what you might offer, short of sending around a cook with meals, three times a day." She lifted the platter, and he took a pie.
"What I have to offer is—" he pinched off a piece of pigeon pie and slipped it between her parted lips. To his surprise, her mouth closed snugly around his finger, which he slowly withdrew, heightening the effect below his waist.
"As you were saying, Adam?" she said, when the silence stretched.
Adam dusted a crumb from her lips. "I'm offering you a bedroom suite in my house on 17th Street , and I'd pay you to live there. My mother recently arrived from England , and because I spend much of my time at the ranch, she'd enjoy the company." True, but not the reason he wanted Priscilla there. He broke off another piece of pie, and as he brought it to her mouth, her lips parted like a baby bird. "Because my mother's aging," he continued, "she occupies the suite on the ground floor. You'd have your own suite on the second floor. It's a comfortable suite with a writing room and a well-appointed bathroom equipped with a large bathtub. You'd have free run of the house, and my cook and staff would provide meals for you and my mother."
Priscilla looked at him skeptically. "Then what you're asking is for me to be a companion to your mother. Are you trying to undermine my plans for my paper?"
"No," Adam assured her. "My mother does not need a companion, but she would enjoy your company, I'm certain. It's my children who I'm concerned about. I want to move them from the ranch into the house, but I don't expect my mother to monitor them, so I
For a few moments she stood staring at the blanket, then she closed her parasol, braced the tip of it on the ground, gave a little wiggle, and like a snake recoiling into the snake charmer's basket, lowered herself to the blanket onto one hip and tucked her small booted feet beneath her. Her nicely rounded bottom clad in varying shades of green silk captured his attention, and when she raised her head, it was not his eyes that she focused on, and he knew at once she'd noticed his problem . But how could she not, with the bulge in his britches at eye level to her, and not more than a couple of feet away. She looked up quickly, meeting his gaze, and her face was crimson.
He chucked her under the chin. "Food always takes a man's mind off other things," he said, lowering himself to the blanket, "and I saw some very tempting morsels in your basket."
But not as tempting as the two morsels pressing against her bodice with the rise and fall of her chest. And at the moment, his craving for those two full, round morsels dwarfed his craving for food. His mere mention of kissing her made her breath quicken. He could only imagine how she'd react while laying naked on his bed as he introduced her to the finer art of making love. He'd take as much time as necessary to familiarize her with her body's response to a man's caresses. And by the time he acquainted her with the part of him that was primed and ready, she'd be welcoming him with a passion he was certain she did not know existed.
Priscilla lifted the lid from the basket. "Not knowing who would be bidding on my basket, I tried to include a wide assortment of foods," she said. "If I had known you intended to bid, I would have tried to accommodate your wishes. As it is, you'll have to be satisfied with ordinary fare, as that was all I could find in Cheyenne . It will be some time before the second floor of my building will be converted into living quarters, which makes it inconvenient for preparing any but the most basic meals. But the women will be moving into the boarding house next week, so I'll only have myself to worry about." She reached into the basket and began setting covered bowls on the blanket.
"Maybe I could offer you a solution," Adam said, eyeing a platter of pigeon pies.
Priscilla looked at him, curious. "I can't imagine what you might offer, short of sending around a cook with meals, three times a day." She lifted the platter, and he took a pie.
"What I have to offer is—" he pinched off a piece of pigeon pie and slipped it between her parted lips. To his surprise, her mouth closed snugly around his finger, which he slowly withdrew, heightening the effect below his waist.
"As you were saying, Adam?" she said, when the silence stretched.
Adam dusted a crumb from her lips. "I'm offering you a bedroom suite in my house on 17th Street , and I'd pay you to live there. My mother recently arrived from England , and because I spend much of my time at the ranch, she'd enjoy the company." True, but not the reason he wanted Priscilla there. He broke off another piece of pie, and as he brought it to her mouth, her lips parted like a baby bird. "Because my mother's aging," he continued, "she occupies the suite on the ground floor. You'd have your own suite on the second floor. It's a comfortable suite with a writing room and a well-appointed bathroom equipped with a large bathtub. You'd have free run of the house, and my cook and staff would provide meals for you and my mother."
Priscilla looked at him skeptically. "Then what you're asking is for me to be a companion to your mother. Are you trying to undermine my plans for my paper?"
"No," Adam assured her. "My mother does not need a companion, but she would enjoy your company, I'm certain. It's my children who I'm concerned about. I want to move them from the ranch into the house, but I don't expect my mother to monitor them, so I
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