A Convenient Proposal(14)
“Which do you like better, dogs and cats or horses and cows? Medically speaking.”
“That depends on whether or not it’s raining.” His cheek dimpled with a grin. “Examining a sick horse in the cold rain is nobody’s idea of fun.”
“I guess not. Do you have horses and cows yourself? Dogs and cats?”
“My dad and mom have about a thirty acres, and they’ve kept horses all my life. Lots of cats live at the barn. And there are always dogs hanging around.”
“But what about you, personally?”
The answer came after a pause. “I was at school for eight years, mostly living in student housing, so I didn’t have a pet. Since I’ve been working, there just hasn’t been time. I thought, when I bought the house for us to live in after the wedding, that we’d get a dog, too. But…” Griff shrugged.
“Did you sell the house?”
“I’ve been living on the money.” He chuckled. “Pissed most of it away, I guess you’d say. But I had a good time.”
Without commenting, Arden sat straight in the seat again. The next time he glanced over, she’d put on a very big, very black pair of sunglasses, effectively shutting him out. Or herself in, depending on how you looked at things.
Griff would have preferred to continue the conversation, but he’d already said more than he should have. Arden’s questions had led him into revealing how much of a coward he was, how totally he’d messed up his life at home. She probably regretted ever agreeing to this escapade in the first place, and was halfway to dropping him out on the side of the road before she turned around and headed back to her island.
Worst of all, she’d left him alone with his thoughts, a meeting he’d avoided with great success since last June. The Jag required no effort to drive, and the empty road demanded little concentration beyond staying between the lines. All he had to do was think, unless…
With the push of a button, the car’s radio came on, tuned to a classical station where a solo violin screeched like a lonely bird in a deserted forest. Griff winced and used the steering wheel button to search for his kind of music, a place where the violins were called fiddles, where banjos and mandolins created that mountain sound.
The satellite system installed in the Jag gave him just what he wanted. He sat back with a contented sigh, nodding his head and tapping his fingers on the wheel to a kicking rendition of “Orange Blossom Special.”
Two of Arden’s slender fingers touched a button and lowered the volume. When he glanced in that direction, she was staring at him over the top of those black lenses. “This is your music preference?”
“Bluegrass? Definitely.” When she didn’t respond, he reached toward the control panel. “I can turn it back. This is your car—”
“No.” She put her hand over his. “You’re driving, so you should play whatever music you enjoy.”
“Driver’s choice,” Griff said. “It’s a deal.”
But with the bargain struck, neither of them moved for a moment. The warmth of Arden’s palm against his skin sent heat flaring through Griff’s chest and straight into his belly. Without effort, he could imagine her stroking his bare shoulders, could almost feel those smooth palms sliding along his ribs and driving him crazy.
Breathing fast, he kept his eyes on the road, though his eyes ached with the effort.
Finally, she lifted her hand. He pulled his arm back to rest on his thigh. Time for a little camouflage.
“The musicians do have remarkable technique,” Arden said after a few minutes. “Some of those passages aren’t easy to play, especially at such a quick tempo.”
He welcomed the change of subject. “You sound like you know what you’re talking about. Do you play an instrument?”
“Oh…no.” This time she turned her knees away from him, requiring the dog to move again. “Not anymore, that is.” She paused barely a second before saying, “I’ve developed a headache. I think I’m going to try to nap a bit, if you don’t mind. Then I can drive whenever you’re tired.”
“Go right ahead. I’m good for hours yet.”
Propping her head against the door frame, she withdrew as far as possible without leaving the car. After a few minutes, Griff saw her hand, which had been tightly fisted in her lap, loosen to a gentle curve. Her deep breathing signaled that she had, in fact, fallen asleep.