A Man Apart

Two

Having listened to Maggie rave, through several long-distance phone calls, about how handsome, exciting, wonderful and flat-out sexy her employer and fiancé was, Hannah was prepared for the visual impact of Mitch Grainger.

So, when he arrived at the apartment a half hour later, she was neither surprised nor disappointed. Mitch appeared to be everything Maggie claimed him to be and then some. His manner was polite. He was gentle and tender with Maggie, and the perfect gentleman toward Hannah.

She couldn’t help but notice that every time Mitch looked at Maggie, his eyes gleamed with near adoration, joy and male sexual hunger. Strangely, that gleam of light gave Hannah an odd little twist in her chest.

Surely not envy of Maggie and the emotions the mere sight of her so obviously induced in Mitch?

Envy? Of her very best friend? The very idea was both confusing and shaming. Hannah might have examined her unusual feeling more closely if there had been just the three of them around the small table.

But Mitch had not come to the apartment alone.

While Hannah had been prepared for Maggie’s fiancé she hadn’t at all been prepared for the impact of Mitch’s older brother, Justin.

And what an impact he made. Hannah felt the reverberations in every molecule of her being-felt it and resented it. In looks, the brothers were quite similar, but altogether different in attire.

Mitch was dressed in a navy-blue business suit, ice-blue shirt, a striped, pale-blue and grey tie and a long gray obviously cashmere coat, the walking picture of the conservative businessman. Justin, on the other hand, had removed a brown, well-worn Stetson and shrugged out of a deep-collared suede jacket. Beneath his coat he wore a blue chambray shirt tucked into faded low-slung jeans plastered to his slim hips and long legs to cover the tops of smart-looking boots.

Justin Grainger towered over Hannah’s five foot ten by seven and a half inches. His raw-boned frame was rangy but muscular, a tower of powerful masculinity.

At once, Hannah understood how Maggie had found it hysterical when Mitch threatened to mop the casino floor with his brother if he said one word out of line. While Mitch appeared quite capable of wiping the floor with most men, she knew his brother wasn’t one of them.

Justin Grainger had dark hair, streaked with silver at the temples, and a little long at the nape. His eyes were gray, cold as the North Atlantic in January, sharp as a bitter wind, yet aloof and remote. And every time he turned his cold, calculating, but somehow tinglingly sexy sharp-eyed gaze on Hannah, she felt a chilling thrill from the tingling top of her head to the curling tips of her toes.

Hannah’s immediate assessment of the two brothers was that Mitch was forceful and dynamic, whereas Justin was a silent but simmering volcano of leashed sexuality, with the potential to erupt without warning all over any innocent, unsuspecting female to cross his path.

Fortunately, having survived that one unsuccessful and unsettling relationship two years before-a relationship in which she had been burned so badly she hadn’t even confided in Maggie about the affair or aftereffects-Hannah was neither innocent nor unsuspecting. To be sure, she was suspicious as all get-out.

On Maggie’s introduction, Hannah accepted Mitch’s proffered hand first. It was warm, his grip polite. But she barely registered his greeting, since all she could hear was the sound of static electricity as she took Justin’s extended hand. She not only heard it, she felt it zigzag from her palm to every particle of her body.

Hannah slid a quick glance toward Maggie and Mitch only to find that they had moved across the room to the hallway closet to put away the men’s coats.

“Miss Deturk.”

That’s all he said. Her name. Not even her first name. His voice was low, disturbingly intimate. Hannah’s hand felt seared. She hadn’t realized his fingers were still firmly wrapped around hers. She turned her gaze back to his, her mouth going dry at the sight of tiny flames flickering in the depths of his cold gray eyes.

Feeling slightly disoriented, and resenting the sensation, she slid her hand free, murmuring, “Mr. Grainger.”

“Justin.”

“If you wish.” She inclined her head, feeling like an awkward teenager, not having a clue she gave the impression of a haughty queen condescending to acknowledge one of her lowest subjects.

A smile shadowed his masculine, tempting lips. “May I call you Hannah?”

Oh, hell, she thought. His voice was even lower, more intimate, and too damn beguiling. Certain her brain had been rendered into nothing more than a small blob, Hannah could manage only to parrot herself.

“If you wish.”

“Well, ready for dessert?” Maggie’s bright voice dissolved the strange misty atmosphere seemingly surrounding her and Justin Grainger.

Thank heavens for small mercies, Hannah thought, turning away from him.

“Do you have coffee?” Mitch asked.

“Of course.” Maggie crossed to the small kitchen area.

Grateful for a moment’s respite from Justin’s nearness, Hannah hurried after Maggie to help. She served the coffee, careful not to look directly at him. She thought she had herself under control when she again seated herself next to him at the table.

The moment she was settled, she knew she was wrong.

Beneath Justin Grainger’s keen gaze, Hannah’s enthusiasm waned for the coffee and the surprise dessert promised by Maggie.

“What is it?” Mitch asked, eyeing the dessert dish Maggie set before him, which appeared to contain a mixed-up blob of ingredients.

Maggie grinned. “Karla calls it Heavenly Hawaiian Surprise. It’s got pineapple and cherries and pecans and marshmallow and sour cream, and trust me, it is heavenly.”

“We shall see, or better yet taste,” Mitch said, his teasing eyes alight with affection.

His brother beat him to it. Scooping up a spoonful of the mixture, he popped it in his mouth.

“Decadent,” he pronounced. “Delicious.”

Once again Justin’s low, ultrasensual tones sent an unfamiliar, unwanted and unappreciated chill down Hannah’s already quivering spine. At the same time, the spark in his eyes caused a strange melting heat deep inside her.

Hannah resented the sensation but, to her chagrin, she felt every bit as attracted to Justin as she was wary of him. All he had to do was look at her to make her, in a word, sizzle.

Dammit.

It had been some time since Hannah had warmed to a man and she had certainly never sizzled for one. But innate honesty compelled her to admit to herself that she did indeed sizzle for Justin.

And she didn’t like it at all.

The conversation around the small table was general; for Hannah, desultory. Appearing for all the world comfortable and relaxed, inside she felt stiff, frozen solid.

Later that night, after the brothers had finally left, Hannah lay awake in the surprisingly comfortable roll-away bed Maggie had prepared for her. She examined the conflicting emotions Justin Grainger had so casually and seemingly effortlessly aroused inside her mind and body.

She felt empty, needy. It was almost frightening. How could it have happened? Hannah asked herself. She was hardly the type to become all squishy and nervy from the mere expression in a man’s eyes and the low, sensual sound of his voice.

Certainly, Justin had not said or done anything out of line. He had been every bit as polite and respectful as had his brother Mitch.

Except for his eyes. Dear heavens, Justin Grainger’s sharp and compelling eyes.

A shiver trickled through Hannah, and she drew the down comforter more closely around her. She knew it wasn’t the coldness of the air but an inner, deeper chill that wouldn’t be banished by burrowing under three down comforters.

Hannah decided that getting through the next days-the rehearsal, the dinner, the wedding and reception ought to prove more than a little interesting. In fact, she was afraid it would be an endurance test.

Was she up to the sort of sensual challenge those glinting, gray eyes promised?

Hannah believed she was. She was her own woman, which was why she had struck out on her own, preferring to work her tail off to establish herself rather than work for somebody else.

There was just one tiny flaw in all this-while Hannah believed she could handle the situation, return home unscathed by Justin Grainger, she wasn’t absolutely certain.

And that was frightening.

“So what did you think of her?” Mitch asked as he and Justin settled into his car after leaving the large house.

Her? Justin hesitated. “Who?”

Mitch glanced over to give Justin an are-you-kidding? look. “Maggie, who else. You remember-the woman I’m going to be marrying in just a few days.”

“Well, of course I remember,” Justin retorted, feeling like an idiot and not liking the feeling. ‘But if you’ll recall, there were two women in the apartment,” he said in his own defense. “Although I did notice you had eyes only for Maggie.”

Tossing him a grin, Mitch flicked on the motor. “I do recall that there were two, smart-ass,” he chided. “I also recall that you seemed to stare at Hannah a lot.”

Justin shrugged in what he hoped was a carefree way. “Hey, she’s an attractive woman.”

“Yes, she is,” Mitch agreed. “But, that doesn’t answer my question. What did you think of Maggie, your future sister-in-law?”

“She is both beautiful and nice, as you well know,” Justin answered, relieved to have the topic back on Maggie and off Hannah. “And she is most obviously head-over-heels in love with you. Although I can’t imagine why.”

“Because I’m sexy as hell?”

Justin gave him a droll look. “Since when?”

“Since I was fifteen,” Mitch shot back, as he shot out of the parking lot at the rear of the house. “Of course,” he qualified, “I was following your bad example.”

“Hmm. Bad example, huh?” he drawled. “Personally, I never considered it bad to be sexy.”

After returning to the hotel, Justin closed his room door behind him and leaned back against it. He inhaled deeply and released the breath on a soft “Whew.”

Old fashioned? Prim? Proper? Virginal? And probably plain? Had he really held such a preconceived opinion of who Hannah would turn out to be?

“Hah.” Shaking his head as though he had just taken a blow to the temple and was still groggy in the mind, Justin pushed away from the door muttering to himself.

“Hannah Deturk is the most cool, composed, beautiful, long-legged woman this ol’ son’s weary eyes ever landed on.”

He chuckled. “And you, Justin Grainger are talking to yourself.”

Well, at least he wasn’t cursing, Justin consoled himself, releasing a half groan. He was surprised at his unexpected emotional, and physical, reaction to the blond goddess.

Sure, it had been a while since he’d been with a woman, but not nearly long enough to explain the immediate surge of lust he’d experienced at first glance. He’d felt like a teenager in the throes of a testosterone rush.

In that instant Justin decided he had to have Hannah Deturk, in every way possible. Either that or he just might expire from the mind-blowing need.

The tricky part was; how and when? Well, he knew exactly how, Justin mused, a smile twitching the corners of his mouth. But the trick was when. Time was limited.

There were only a few days to go until the wedding. As Maggie and Hannah hadn’t seen each other for six months, they’d likely be spending most of those days-and nights-together, chattering away.

Poor Mitch was going to be sleeping alone from now until his wedding night. He’d probably be a bear until then, working overtime to conceal his feelings.

Then Justin realized something-Mitch wouldn’t be the only man working to control strong urges.

Damnation.

He mulled over the problem of private time and place with Hannah as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his best pair of boots. Standing to shuck out of his clothes, he folded them neatly before sliding them into the plastic laundry bag provided by the hotel. His mother had been a real stickler about neatness.

Naked as a newborn, he stretched his length between the chilled sheets, doused the bedside light and started up at the ceiling. Of course, he really couldn’t see the ceiling, as the closed drapes shut out even the tiniest glimmer of moonlight and the room was as dark as pure nothingness.

It didn’t matter to Justin, because he could still see a shimmering image of Hannah Deturk.

“Oh, hell,” he muttered, his breathing growing shallow as his body grew hard. “Think, man. When are you going to have the chance to approach her?”

The days leading up to the big event were out. There was the rehearsal late in the afternoon the day before the wedding, to be followed by the rehearsal dinner. That night was out, as well. Justin knew full well his family would make a lengthy celebration of the dinner.

Naturally, the actual day of the wedding was out.

The day-or night-after the wedding? Justin mulled over the problem, allowing his body to cool down a few degrees. He was in no hurry to get back to the ranch, he could spare a few days for fun and games.

Not in a hotel room. Justin gave a sharp shake of his head against the pillow. Not with Hannah. He didn’t want to delve into why it mattered. It never bothered him before where he spent time romping with a woman-a hotel room, motel room, her apartment, it made no difference to him. This time, if there were to be a time with Hannah, it did matter.

So then, if not the hotel, where?

He could probably have the use of Mitch’s apartment, seeing as how he and Maggie were off the day after the wedding to one of those island resorts exclusively for couples.

No, that wouldn’t do. Mitch’s apartment was on the top floor of the casino, and there was no way Justin would escort Hannah either through the front entrance of the casino or up the back stairs.

Without knowing how he knew, Justin felt Hannah was definitely not a back stairs kind of woman. Scratch Mitch’s place. The same for Maggie’s attic hide-away. He felt positive that Hannah would not for a second even consider her friend’s home for what he had in mind.

Suddenly he was struck by a memory. There was an apartment two floors below Maggie’s place. Karla had lived there before marrying Ben. It hadn’t been rented since then. So they would have privacy for their baby, Ben and Karla were staying in it now. They were planning to leave the morning after the wedding, as well.

Perfect. All he had to do was inform his brother of his intention to stay in the apartment for a couple of days after the wedding. It would be empty. Besides, the house belonged to the family, and he was a member, wasn’t he?

The best part was he had already laid the groundwork by telling Mitch he would be looking for female company while he was in town.

Suddenly Justin laughed aloud. Damned if he wasn’t planning a seduction. Hell, he had never in his life made plans to actually seduce a woman. He had simply homed in on a female who appealed to him, made his move and, if the woman was willing, let it all happen.

His laughter faded as fast as it had erupted. Of course, everything depended on when Hannah was planning to return to Philadelphia and, more important, if she would be willing to spend some mutually entertaining time with him.

Of course, Hannah hadn’t appeared overwhelmed by his masculine appeal. Come to think of it, she had barely spoken or looked at him during dinner. But he had a feeling something shimmered between them from the moment he touched her hand. And damned if he wasn’t going to give it his best shot.

“So, I understand our family’s going to go off in separate directions right after the big day,” said Justin who was seated at a small table in Mitch’s office the following morning. He’d called his brother and invited himself for breakfast. They had finished their meal, and Justin sat back in his chair, sipping at a mug of steaming coffee.

“Far as I know, everybody’s taking off about the same time,” Mitch replied from opposite Justin, his hands cradling a matching mug. “Aren’t they?”

“I’m not.” Justin took another sip. “Ben can take care of things at the ranch, so I think I’ll lug my gear over to the apartment Ben and Karla are presently occupying and camp there for a couple days.”

“Why?” Mitch raised his eyebrows.

Justin gave him a slow, suggestive grin. “I do recall telling you I’d be on the lookout for some female companionship, didn’t I?”

Mitch grinned back. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Not at all,” Justin denied. “I’m just hot to trot, is all. You don’t mind if I use the place for a while?”

“Why should I mind?” Mitch shrugged. “The house belongs as much to you as it does to me.” He gave Justin a wry look. “As long as you wait until everybody has left to track down a playmate.”

“Everybody?” Before Mitch could respond, he went on, digging for information. “Just the family, or does that include other guests?”

“Other guests?” Mitch frowned. “What other guests? Since Maggie’s parents decided not to fly in from Hawaii after we informed them we’d stop by on the way to our honeymoon, the only other guests are employees and a few local residents.”

“And Hannah.” Justin kept his voice free of inflection, other than a slight hint of disinterest.

“Oh, yeah, Hannah.” Mitch pursed his lips. “Hmm…you know, I don’t have a clue as to her plans. Maggie hasn’t said a word. I’ll have to ask her.”

“Is it important?” Justin had to focus to retain his near-bored tone. “I mean, does Hannah come under your no-shock edict?”

Mitch pondered the question for a few seconds, then said, “I haven’t given it a thought. Does it matter?”

“Only if it’s going to cramp my style. Such as it is.”

Mitch shook his head. “I wasn’t aware that you had a style. I thought you just jumped the first woman that appealed to you.”

“Only if she’s willing.”

Mitch raised his eyes, as if seeking help from above. “You are not to be believed.” His lips twitched. “My very own brother, a philanderer, of all things.”

“Hey,” Justin objected. “I am not a philanderer. I’m a normal male, with a healthy sexual appetite. And do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve appeased it?”

Mitch let rip a deep, rich laugh. “I don’t think I want to know anything about your sex life, thank you.”

“Sex life? Who the hell has a sex life?” Justin chuckled. “I talk to horses most of the time, and most of the time I don’t mind. But, every now and again, a man needs a woman. And in my case, buddy, it’s been months.”

“Okay. Okay.” Mitch held his hand up in surrender. “I give up. Have your R and R, but try not to lose the ranch at the tables downstairs.”

Justin didn’t bother to respond. Mitch knew damn well he wasn’t stupid; he would set a limit, a fairly low one, and stick to it. He hid an inner smile. “If things break my way, I’ll be too busy with more important-and a helluva lot more interesting-things than gambling.”