Millionaire in a Stetson (14 page)

Sawyer was silent for a long while. “Are
you
that cynical, Nellie?”

“I’m nothing like my mother.”

“How so?”

Niki tried to put her feelings into words. “I’m not fond of drama, and I don’t need to be the center of the universe.”

“The two of you didn’t get along?” he asked.

“Quite the contrary. We got along great. She adored her baby girl. And for sheer, outright fun, you could not beat Gab—my mother. She took me shopping, to amusement parks, to parties and plays, and the circus. When I was little, I had a pink, SugarDoll bedroom, with a canopied bed, purple carpet and unicorns painted on the ceiling. It was the other people in her life that took the brunt of it.”

“What was the brunt of it?”

“To adore her, to worship her and to believe with all your heart it was mutual.”

“But, it wasn’t?”

“It wasn’t. And I liked some of them. They were very nice, perfectly nice, classy and kind.”

“I take it we’re talking about her boyfriends.”

“They were lovers more than boyfriends,” said Niki. Though she hadn’t understood it at the time. “I suspect most of them, maybe all of them, were married. My mother liked having the power in the relationship.”

“Did she blackmail them?”

Niki stopped abruptly to peer at him. “What makes you ask that?”

Gabriella might have been crafty, but she wasn’t a criminal.

“You said she liked power.”

“Not that kind of power. How did
you
get so cynical?”

“You’re going to want to hang on again.”

As soon as he said it, Niki heard the roar of the rapids. She turned to see a patch of foaming water.

“Should I paddle?” she called.

“Just hang on tight!”

Eight

D
espite her initial nervousness, it was obvious Niki had had a great time on the river. Sawyer was impressed with her endurance for paddling, and she quickly became fearless going over the rapids and down the small falls. They stopped for lunch, then they stopped at a number of picturesque beaches along the way. They even portaged back up one beach to shoot a waterfall for a second time.

When they eventually reached the pullout point at the Skyhigh Inn, they were exhausted, and the sun was sinking behind the Rockies. Attendants at the five-star hotel helped them pull the tandem raft onto the wharf. As Sawyer had arranged, there was an employee from the raft rental outfit on hand to return the boat and give Sawyer the keys to his truck, which was now parked in the hotel parking lot.

His flexible water shoes squished against the boards of the dock as they made their way toward the resort. He caught Niki looking longingly toward an outdoor restaurant. It was full of smartly dressed waiters and white tablecloths that billowed in the light breeze.

Sawyer was starving, too.

“Anywhere we can grab a bite to eat?” he asked the wharf attendant who was close behind them.

The young man glanced at his watch. “You can get hot dogs and hamburgers by the pool. But the poolside concession closes in about fifteen minutes.”

Sawyer glanced down at Niki. She looked about as excited by a hot dog as he felt.

“Yeah, that’s not going to do it,” he muttered under his breath.

He captured her hand, angling them toward the main staircase.

“What?” she asked, taking in the well-dressed guests, the uniformed porters and the elegant, airy, polished-beam lobby visible through a massive wall of glass.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“I don’t think we should go in there.”

“They have a nice restaurant.”

“We’re dripping wet.”

“We’ll dry.”

A doorman opened a glass door in front of them, giving a polite nod of greeting. “Good evening, sir. Welcome to the Skyhigh Inn.”

“Good evening,” Sawyer returned as they passed through the doorway. “See?” he said to Niki. “No problem.”

“I’m a little self-conscious.” She attempted to rub some of the wrinkles out of her mottled purple sundress. “I’m leaving tracks on the marble floor.”

“Careful you don’t slip,” he advised.

“Everyone is staring.”

It was true. The guests were not nearly so well-trained as the doorman. Finely dressed ladies looked aghast, while
gentlemen
—Sawyer used the term loosely—stared unabashedly at the way Niki’s little dress was plastered to her body.

They made it to the front desk, and a friendly woman greeted them. “Welcome to the Skyhigh Inn.”

“We’d like a room to clean up,” Sawyer told her. “And then reservations at the restaurant. Out on the patio, if that’s possible.”

She punched a few keys in her computer. “We’re very busy tonight,” she cautioned. “All I’m showing as available is a vista suite on the VIP floor.”

“We’ll take it,” said Sawyer, dropping his credit card on the counter. “And dinner?”

She took in their appearance. “There is a dress code in the restaurant.”

“I’m sure you have some kind of clothing shop in the hotel?”

“Yes, sir. We do. Mario’s through the main hallway, and Giselle’s Boutique right next door.”

“Can you send a few options up to the suite? Something that will meet the restaurant dress code?”

“Of course.” She gave Niki a sweeping glance, obviously assessing her likely dress size. Then she did the same with Sawyer. “I’ll have them sent right up.”

“Thank you.” Sawyer tucked his credit card back in his pocket.

“Your key,” said the woman. “Number eight-o-two. Take the elevators behind the fountain. You’ll need to insert your key card to access the eighth floor. I’ll let the maitre d’ know to expect you.”

“Thank you,” Sawyer said again. Then he took Niki’s hand.

People still stared as they made their way to the elevator. But they were quickly inside one of the cars, and the doors closed behind them.

He pressed the button for the eighth floor.

Niki was watching him curiously.

“What?” he asked her.

“You’re reminding me of my mother.”

“I’m not conning our way past security. We have every right to be here.”

“Not that. I’m talking about extravagance and expediency. You see no reason why the world shouldn’t revolve around you.”

Truth was, he didn’t. The hotel was here to serve guests, and he was a guest. Wet or dry, his money was as good as the next person’s.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. But I’d never have crossed the lobby alone looking like a river rat.”

“We’re river rats with a high credit limit.”

She was studying him in a way that made him nervous. “There’s something about you.”

“You mean other than my being a river rat?”

“I’ve been hanging around cowboys for a while now, and you make me feel like I’m back in, uh, Boston.”

“Are you telling me I have more class than your average cowboy?”

“Maybe.” But she was still studying him.

Sawyer could have kicked himself for the mistake. He was swaggering around the place like some kind of wealthy businessman, paying for thousand-dollar-a-night hotel suites on a whim. He realized he was trying to impress her, and that was foolish. He wasn’t here to impress her. He was here to con her.

“Bullheadedness is a cowboy trait,” he put in.

“I suppose,” she allowed.

Just then the elevator doors slid open, revealing the opulent hallway of the VIP floor. He wondered if he should pretend to be in awe. But he supposed it was a little too late for that.

They found their suite, opening double doors to a large, brightly decorated living room, a dining area, a substantial bedroom and bath, and a deck that overlooked the river.

While Niki showered, a butler dropped off three potential outfits for each of them. Then, when Sawyer stepped out of the bathroom, freshly shampooed and shaved, he found Niki had chosen a black and burgundy cocktail dress. She was scrutinizing her appearance in front of a full-length mirror, and he immediately stopped caring that he’d gone out of character to get them here.

Her lithe body was hugged by a black sheath with horizontal slashes of burgundy. The hem was at midthigh. Her shoulders were bare, the dress held up by a distinctive, sequined, halted collar that mimicked a necklace.

“What do you think?”

He couldn’t seem to keep the huskiness out of his tone. “You clean up good, Nellie Cooper.”

“I don’t have any shoes.”

“In the truck?” he asked.

He’d already had a porter bring up his cowboy boots. He figured they’d be fine with his slacks and jacket. This was Colorado, after all.

“The only thing I have in the truck is a pair of bright red runners,” she told him. Then she glanced at her bare feet, as if picturing the shoes. “But, maybe…”

He laughed, picking up the phone. “What size?”

The hotel boutique found a pair of rhinestone flats in her size, tiny and delicate. Wearing them, it looked like Niki had sparkling, bare feet. For some reason, they were the sexiest things Sawyer had ever seen.

He watched them flash under the lights as they crossed the lobby to the restaurant. When the maitre d’ seated them next to the rail on the deck, and her feet disappeared beneath the white table cloth, Sawyer fought his disappointment.

“You enjoyed rafting?” he asked.

It was fully dark now, and the stars were bright in the black sky overhead. A small candle flickered in a glass holder between them.

“It was fantastic,” she replied, green eyes shining. “I’ve never taken adventure vacations. But I’m starting to wonder if I should consider them.”

“You should,” Sawyer responded, both surprised and impressed by her enthusiasm.

“Maybe mountain climbing. Maybe skydiving.”

“Have we created a monster?” he asked.

“I’m embarking on a little self-improvement.”

“Through adventure sports.”

“By facing my fears. You know, you confront them, and they lose their power.”

“Often true,” he agreed. “But, do me a favor. Get some lessons before you conquer skydiving.”

“That’s a very good idea. I’m sure there are many people out there who could teach me.”

I could teach you.

Sawyer confessed to himself that he’d love to teach her river rafting, mountain climbing, skydiving, or anything else. He also confesssed that line of thought was entirely unrealistic, but he determinedly swept the worry aside. Just for dinner, just for the evening, he was going to forget about everything but Niki’s company.

“There are definitely people who could teach you,” he affirmed.

“Then that’s what I’ll do,” she said with conviction. “Maybe hang gliding.”

“Look out, world.”

She grinned, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for her hand. It was warm, soft under his fingers, but he knew it was also strong. She was strong. She was completely unexpected.

“Any blisters from paddling?” he asked.

Her hand flipped palm up. “Right here.” She pointed to the base of her middle fingers.

He lifted the hand, leaning forward to kiss the sore spot.

“A cocktail before dinner?” their waiter interrupted.

Sawyer raised a brow at Niki.

“Wine?” she asked.

He watched her expression, making sure she was agreeing with him as he spoke to the waiter. “Something smooth in an old-world cabernet sauvignon. Two-thousand-seven, if you’ve got it. Oak more than fruit. Maybe Rothchilds. But I’m open to suggestions.”

Niki nodded her agreement, a smile growing on her face.

“I’ll speak to the Sommelier,” said the waiter. “Would you like to consult with him?”

Sawyer shook his head. He didn’t want to waste his time talking to some guy about wines. “Go ahead and surprise us.”

“Very good, sir. Would you care to order any appetizers to get started?”

Niki perked up. “Something spicy?”

“We have a lovely baked brie with jalapeno chutney.”

She gave a nod.

“We’ll take it,” said Sawyer.

“Thanks,” said Niki as the waiter departed.

He gave a shrug. “Hey, eat anything you want. I know I’m pretty hungry after all that paddling.”

“And portaging. I’m sorry I couldn’t help with that.”

“You don’t need to help me carry something that light.”

“All the same.” She flexed an arm, struggling to show some biceps. “If I’m going to climb mountains, I’d better start weight training.”

An assistant waiter arrived with a basket of breads, and Niki chose a cheese straw.

“Surely building your brother’s house would be a good workout.” Sawyer took a cheese straw, too.

“It is,” she agreed, snapping the stick in half. “But they give me the easy stuff. Not that I blame them. I was pretty useless when I first showed up. I think they were worried I might hurt someone.”

“Did you?”

“Not so far.” She took a bite. “So, tell me. What’s your favorite adventure sport? What’s the most fun?”

Fun wasn’t exactly how Sawyer would describe some of his adventures. He’d once rappelled out of a helicopter to rescue a distant cousin from a small-time drug lord on a Caribbean island. “Most of what I do is work, skydiving, water rescue, climbing.”

“So, you’re an adrenaline junkie.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Well, you didn’t become a banker, Sawyer Smith. And apparently ranching wasn’t risky enough for you.” She pointed at him with her cheese straw. “And it’s not the safest job in the world. I’ve seen those bucking broncos and the stampeding cattle.”

“I’ve gone back to ranching now,” he responded.

Then again, he was really back to rescuing his family. So, maybe there was some truth to her words.

“But I’m betting you do jump out of airplanes.”

“I do,” he admitted.

Her smile was wide and self-satisfied. “You’re going to be a very fun neighbor, Sawyer Smith.”

Sawyer struggled to squelch his guilt. He told himself she’d get over him. Then he tried to tell himself he’d get over her, too.

* * *

Niki had never met anyone quite like Sawyer. He made every man she’d ever met look safe and, well, boring. Heading back to the suite after dinner to pick up their belongings, she couldn’t help but be aware of his strength, his capability and sexiness as he strode along beside her.