Desert of Desire (3 page)

He pursed his lips, obviously stifling a laugh.

“I know, it sounds so pathetic.” She
rolled her eyes
.

Beau
stood suddenly and offered her his hand. Hesitantly, she took it and allowed him to help her
up
. A jolt of sensual energy coursed through her. She couldn’t let go.

“I want to show you something.” He led her back outside, and they followed the walkway to a wood bench beside a high stone wall.
Beau
wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her onto the bench, then climbed up next to her.

A quiver of desire stormed through her
from the contact. She looked up into his eyes. “W
-w
hat are we doing here?”

“Turn around.”

She did as he said. The red desert stretched out in every direction beyond the wall, barren and inhospitable. She had to look back toward the garden to remind herself where she was. Awed by the stark contrast, she gazed at
Beau
. “It’s like night and day.”

“Yes, very much.”

“You’ve brought all this lush green to a dry, forbidding place. You’ve conquered the desert.”

His lips curved into a grin. “No, not conquered. I’ve only harnessed the things the desert offers up. Everything here is native. They’re normally scattered on hilltops and along roadways. I’ve assembled them, that’s all.”

“You’re being modest. It’s got to take incredible skill to create this here.” She swept her arm
through the air
.

He dropped his gaze, then stepped off the bench. When his hands returned to her waist to help her down, Eve wished time would slow to a crawl. The sensation of being in his arms infused her with desire.
She could get lost in his eyes.
Remembering her mission, she glanced away. “I guess we should go back inside.” She stepped past him, not waiting for his reply.

His footsteps behind her seemed strangely comforting. Back in the living room, she sat on a chair beside the fireplace, afraid to return to the couch, to be so near him.

Beau
took his seat, a playful smile on his lips. His blue eyes sparkled with infectious mischief.

Lord
, he was handsome. Had the temperature risen or was it the slow burn he was stoking inside  her? “What is it?”

“Stay for dinner. K
elly’s making fajitas.”

The mention of Kelly brought
her
back to reality. She had a crush on a gay man. How pathetic. She
schooled
the smile from her face. Her stomach growled. It was after eight p.m., New York time, and she’d not re
ally begun the interview yet. “Um, okay. Thank you.

“Kelly,”
Beau
called.

Footsteps clicked on the stone tile. She looked up and saw Kelly in the doorway. “Yes?”

“Eve will be staying for dinner,”
Beau
told him.

Kelly nodded curtly and left.

Eve sighed as she bit at the skin around her thumb nail.

Beau
leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, hands claspe
d. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, of course n
ot. I’m…must be the flight. I’m…
tired.”
Or attracted to a gay man. Why did her libido always play such mean games on her?

“Would you like to rest before we finish the interview?”

Finish? She’d hardly started. “No. Let’s do it.” She reached to the coffee table, for the tape recorder. “Okay. I think our readers would like to know about
Beau
Calloway, the man, as well as the best-selling author. No other gardening books have achieved the popularity yours have. What is it that makes your books so appealing?”
She wanted to ask what made him so personally appealing, but she held her tongue.

He stared toward the garden. “Have you read them?”

All three of his books were packed in her suitcase. She’d meant to read them before she got here, but when Jacoby gave her a few days off, she did what any red-blooded, hard-working single woman would do. She went shopping by day and out with her friends at night.

Regretting her lack of preparation, she swallowed hard. “Well, I glanced at them.” God, did that sound lame. “I meant to, really. I promise I will tonight. Let’s shift gears. How about I take some pictures today and tomorrow we do the interview.” She’d speed read the books tonight at her hotel. Not as if she had anything else to do.

“Okay.”

“Let me get my camera.” She headed to the foyer and fished the camera out of her suitcase. At least
Lara
had showed her how to work the thing. Maybe she could convince Calloway she wasn’t a total slouch. When she returned to the living room she noticed
Beau
had opened the curtains. A huge picture window revealed an expanse of rocky orange desert. The fiery sunset cast the landscape in a thousand vibrant colors. She sucked in a breath as she took it all in. She’d never seen anything so beautiful.

“I thought you might want to take a shot of the western view, show the comparison of the garden to the desert,” he said.

“It’s amazing. Can we go out there?”

“Sure.” He led her out through the garden, walking along a path that ran beside the house to a wrought iron gate, similar to the one she’d seen when she arrived. He opened it and gestured for her to go first.

She snapped a dozen photos then checked them on the display. She’d never be able to choose between them. Each showed a slightly different view of the sunset over the rocks.
Then she trained her camera on the man and took his picture.

He shook his head. “I’m not fond of posing.”

She snapped another photo. “But I’d like a candid shot of you.”

A slow, sexy smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I’d rather take your picture. You’re very pretty.”

Heat bloomed in her belly
. Was she seriously crushing on a gay man? But damn, everything about him drew her from the cleft in his chin to his thick hair to the was his shirt hugged those broad shoulders.

They stayed there, silently watching until the sun disappeared behind some stone pillars.
Beau
led her back inside and they sat on the couch. A shiver rolled over her body.

“How about a fire?” he asked.

She smiled. “That’d be perfect.”

She waited for him to light the fireplace. Instead, he offered her his hand.

Warring emotions caught her off guard, but she
took it and they strolled
outside
.
The feel of his callused skin against hers had her thinking about things she shouldn’t, like what
those long legs
would look like under his
jeans
. She shoved the image from her mind.
“I thought you were lighting a fire.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder
at her
and grinned. “We are.” He pulled her along the winding path, veering off the paved section onto a sandy trail. A few steps lat
er, they emerged in a clearing.

The tiled patio surrounded by potted greenery held a chiminea, a double swing, a table and two chairs. The place was more like a magical wonderland than someone’s backyard.

A
set of French doors open
ed
to a huge kitchen and
she
spied Kelly working at the counter. “Your garden certainly holds many secrets, doesn’t it?”

“Secrets?” He sat on the swing and patted a spot on the cushion next him.

Eve hesitated but after a few moments, she couldn’t resist joining him. “I thought I’d
seen
the whole thing, but I never
even realized
this area
existed
.” The swing moved slowly, its rhythm lazy and seductive.

“The garden wraps around two sides of the house.”

He stopped the swing and got up. “I promised you a fire, didn’t I?” Plucking a yellow blossom from a pot, he stepped in front of her and threaded the flower’s stem into her hair. “Beautiful” His smoky stare
and the feel of his fingers in her hair
ignited a heat inside her that hadn’t been stoked in way too long.

“Mexican Gold Poppy.”

Her breathing grew shallow as she looked up at him. Something clanged nearby, and they both
glanc
ed
into the kitchen
.

Kelly headed toward them holding a tray loaded with silverware, plates and wine glasses. He set his burden on a chair and distributed the items on the table.

Beau
retreated to the chiminea and loaded wood into it. His broad shoulders and narrow waist formed a sensuous triangle. She tried to remain nonchalant as she studied the muscles in his back and shoulders.

Kelly plucked the cork from a wine bottle. Its hollow pop jarred her attention from
Beau
’s assets.

Kelly
handed her a glass filled with crimson liquid, then walked away. “Your wine’s on the table,
Beau
.
”

Beau
winked at Eve. “Now we have wine and fire. What else could we ask for?” He joined her on the swing.

She watched the yellow glow of the fire slowly rise in the chiminea. “World peace?”

He laughed. “To world peace.” He tapped his glass to hers, then drank.

She took a sip. The fruity taste was unlike anything she’d had. “Mm. This is good.”

“There’s a vineyard about sixty miles north of here. I ord
er the stuff by the case. Best S
yrah I’ve ever had.”

Her gaze swept over her surroundings. The smell of the various flowers mixed with the spicy aromas from the kitchen. She breathed deep
ly, inhaling the ambrosial mix.
“I understand now why you don’t like to leave here.”