Lead Me Home Read Online Free

hated her food would be mean.
    He uncorked the wine and poured them each a glass.
    “How about a salad?” she asked.
    “Sounds good. Want help?”
    “No, thanks. Go ahead and sit down. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
    He took a seat at the table while she put together greens of various types with efficient motions that told him she was no novice in the kitchen. She didn’t ask him the ranch-or-thousand-island question, either. Instead she mixed up some vinegar, olive oil and spices before tossing it with the greens.
    So far he was inclined to think she was the real deal and the cowboys didn’t have the kind of educated palate to appreciate her efforts. Still, he mentally crossed his fingers.
    If the food was good, he’d have an easier task correcting the situation. If it was bad, he’d have to get creative. But that wasn’t his only issue and probably not his biggest hurdle. Aurelia Imogene Smith turned him on.
    His intense physical reaction to her defied logic. He’d dated a string of international beauties, skinny supermodels and jet-setters whose lifestyles mirrored his and who thought a man who trained horses was sexy. He didn’t get that, although one girlfriend had taken great pains to explain that a man astride a horse evoked knights in armor and good guys in white hats, which appealed to women who craved romance.
    Fortunately not all women who craved romance wanted permanence. Matthew had focused on a certain kind of woman—rootless, well-traveled, sophisticated and definitely tall because he liked that attribute. He was at the height of his career and had no intention of changing anything about his life.
    Maybe someday, when he was tired of traveling or the offers stopped coming, he’d use the money he’d stashed away to buy a ranch and settle down. But until that time, he sought women who had the same rolling-stone philosophy as his own. Less chance of a broken heart that way.
    Aurelia didn’t fit the profile. He could tell from the way she’d reacted to his comment about Paris that she’d never been there. He’d be willing to bet she hadn’t traveled much at all.
    Her outfit—a white cotton peasant blouse over jeans and athletic shoes on her feet—suggested she wasn’t particularly sophisticated, either. As for her height, he’d be amazed if she was much over five foot five. She was nothing like his usual girlfriends, and the total opposite of Elsa, the Swedish supermodel he’d broken up with a month ago.
    And yet, from the moment he’d walked into the kitchen, he’d been assaulted by images of rolling naked with her on a mattress. The intensity of his reaction embarrassed him. He considered himself an evolved man who appreciated women for their minds as well as their bodies.
    But if he were honest with himself, he didn’t much care what was going on in Aurelia’s mind. He just wanted to get his hands on her. That was unacceptable and he wouldn’t follow through on the urge, but it was there, a humbling reminder that he wasn’t quite as evolved as he liked to think.
    Taking the baking dish from the oven, she transferred the meat from the skewers to a plate that already held a mound of salad. As she handed him the plate, he got a brief glimpse of cleavage. His johnson stirred, seeking Aurelia the way a divining rod seeks water. He ignored that unmannerly response and breathed in the aroma of the food, which smelled promising.
    She pointed a finger at him. “Napkin. You need a napkin.” Hurrying to one of the drawers in the array of oak cabinets, she pulled out a hunter-green cloth napkin and handed it to him.
    “Thanks, but I can use paper.”
    “Not in this house. Sarah believes paper napkins have eroded the elegance of the dining experience, not to mention cluttering up the landfill, so it’s a rare occasion when she allows them.”
    “I respect that view.” Matthew spread the napkin across his thighs. “This looks and smells delicious.”
    “Like I said, I’m not a