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Authors: Cathy Gillen Thacker

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BOOK: A Cowboy Under the Mistletoe
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“I went out with Penderson because he asked me to go.” Ally spoke as if to a dimwit. “So he could apologize for putting the pressure on me regarding the sale of the ranch.”

“And make another offer,” Hank added tersely.

“And make another offer,” Ally confirmed. “Just as you said he would.”

Hank paused and searched her face. Once again he seemed able to read her mind. “Did you accept it?”

“I'm still hoping something better will come in,” she replied honestly.

“Me, too.” He smiled as if he knew a secret.

Ally recalled what Emily had said about Lulu getting a substantial financial settlement from her divorce. She shifted uneasily. “Back to Lulu…”

Hank gave her a stern look. “I repeat, she is just a friend.”

“Who had a crush on you all through high school.”

The tension in his broad shoulders eased slightly. “We never dated.”

“To Lulu's lament.”

Hank scrutinized Ally with unremitting interest. “There's nothing for you to be envious about,” he insisted.

She scoffed. “I'm not envious. Just curious.” As to why he still hadn't explained what exactly what was going on between him and Lulu…and why they had been together in Dallas the night before. Was Lulu the client Hank had been ferrying about for the last two days? Or had the two of them just happened to be in the Metroplex on business at the same time, and decided to have dinner together? And
what were he and Lulu going to see each other about next that had her so excited?

Hank studied Ally, looking impossibly handsome and determined in the soft light. He gestured amicably. “Okay.
If
that's the case,” he challenged audaciously, “then prove it.”

Ally pushed away another wave of desire and held her ground with effort. Why did she suddenly feel she had a tiger by the tail? “How?” she asked, just as casually.

Hank held his arms wide. “Come here and kiss me like you mean it.”

Chapter Eleven

“Kiss you?” Ally echoed.

Hank came closer, until they were near enough to feel each other's body heat. “You asked me not to bother you with half-formed plans,” he stated in a soft, decisive voice that coaxed her closer still. “I haven't and I won't. I'm asking you to trust that, given another week or two, I will meet my objective and make a formal offer on Mesquite Ridge that tops the one you've already received from Corporate Farms.” He regarded Ally. “If you are willing to believe in me, in here—” he put his hand over his heart “—then demonstrate your faith in me and kiss me.”

It was clear from the expression in Hank's eyes that the cynic in him expected her to do the opposite—assume the worst about his time with Lulu, and move away. And had she not spent the last week with him, and seen close up what a decent, loving and honorable man Hank had become, she would have done just that.

But she knew he was good and kind.

And although maddeningly self-contained at times—as his parents very well knew—not the kind of person to make promises he felt he could not deliver on.

Hank was not the only one who could take risks, Ally thought, as she went up on tiptoe and wreathed her arms around his neck. He promptly wrapped his arms around
her and used the flat of his palm to bring her all the way against him.

Their lips met. She moaned softly, tangling her hands in his hair, never wanting him to stop. And he didn't. Their tongues intertwined and his hard body pressed resolutely against her. Ally surged forward, surrendering all, until she was kissing him back more passionately than ever before. She reveled in his warmth and strength and the myriad sensations soaring through her. She knew it was Christmas, and that before this she had considered their lovemaking an unexpected gift, a salve for her loneliness. But it was so much more than that. She wanted him so much—wanted the companionship and understanding, and yes, the feeling of belonging that he offered. She knew he hadn't said anything about loving her.

It didn't matter.

She
loved
him.

Loved him enough to trust him, to take his hand and lead him up the stairs to her bedroom. Loved him enough to undress him and kiss him again, long and hard and deep.

She wanted him…so much.

Wanted him to tumble her onto her bed and disrobe her just as playfully as she had just done to him.

Her body was as ready for him, as his was for hers, and she reclined on her side, taking this gift for what it was, a coming together that was also an act of hope and faith, a moment in time to be cherished.

Hank trailed a hand over her side, the indentation of her waist, the curve of her hip, the line of her thigh. Her breath grew ragged as he caressed her abdomen, going lower still.

“I missed you,” he whispered as he explored the tip of
her nipple with the pad of his thumb, and followed it with a kiss.

“I missed you, too,” Ally said, her pulse pounding, her senses in an uproar.

Shifting her onto her back, he draped a thigh over hers and continued caressing her, studiously avoiding the part she most wanted him to touch. Until she moaned, arched her back and opened her thighs, aware that nothing had ever felt so right….

Hank had never imagined he'd be in a position to use the chemistry he had with Ally to break down that stone wall around her heart. But Ally was so guarded and her time on the ranch with him so short that he had no choice but to use whatever advantage he had to get close to her. He wanted her in his life. Not as some long distance or occasional lover, but as a real, viable part of his everyday existence. He wanted to go to sleep with her every night and wake up with her every morning. He wanted to roam the ranch with her, and then hunker down inside, before the fire. Spend lazy afternoons in bed, when the mood struck, and work side-by-side all night when that was necessary, too.

It was more important for him to get her to stay than for him to own the ranch. If she ended up selling Mesquite Ridge to someone else, so be it. There was always more land in Laramie County. There was only one Ally.

Only one woman who could make the impossible happen, make him ready and willing to love again. Not the selfish way he had in his youth, but in the completely giving way of a man.

And she sacrificed for him, too, drifting lower, giving him what he needed, letting him know with each soft, sensual kiss just how much she cared.

Loving the no-holds-barred way she surrendered herself
to him, he knelt on the floor in front of her and guided her to the edge of the bed. She caught her breath as he nudged her legs farther apart.

“Oh, Hank,” she whispered, shivering as he breathed in the sweet musky scent of her and explored the petal pink softness. Satisfaction unlike anything he had ever experienced roared through him. Tightening her hands on his head, she allowed him full access, letting him stroke the pearly bud again and again. Until she was calling his name and coming apart in his hands, and he was moving upward once again, not waiting, taking her the way she yearned to be taken, until there was no stopping. Until she was clamped around him, shaking with sensation, bringing him to a shuddering climax and then slowly, sweetly down again.

 

H
OURS LATER, DAWN STREAMED
in through the bedroom windows. Ally was curled up next to Hank, her head on his chest, his strong arms wrapped around her. Her thigh nestled between his legs, and the warmth of his body pressed against hers. She inhaled the masculine scent of his skin and hair, and reflected on the passionate lovemaking that had kept them awake—and aroused—most of the night.

Hank stroked a hand through her hair. “What are you thinking?” he murmured, kissing her temple.

Easy.
Aware she had never felt so safe, or so cherished, Ally let her eyelids flutter shut.

“I never knew it could be like this.”
Never knew I could fall in love so hard and fast…or want to be with someone so very much.

Was it just that it was Christmastime—and she was leaving Mesquite Ridge for good—that had her in desperate need of a connection? Ally wondered. Or was it because she had never had anyone so invested in making sure she
was okay? All she knew for certain was that Hank was as tender and considerate as he was sensual, and that he had brought out a side of her she hadn't realized existed. He'd made her feel it was okay to be vulnerable. He'd helped her realize it was all right to need to be touched and held and cherished, in the way only he could.

“I…hoped…it could.” His touch grew more loving and his husky voice dropped a notch. “But for the record…” his expression radiated a soul-deep happiness that mirrored her own “…I never imagined anything could feel this right, either.”

Ally had only to look into Hank's eyes to know how true that was.

Disconcerted by the intensity of her feelings and the fluttering of her heart, she reverted to her usual cynicism. “Maybe it's a yuletide miracle,” she teased.

The corners of his lips lifted. “Or just a plain miracle,” he drawled.

The raw affection in his tone made her catch her breath. “Must you always have your way?” she murmured back.

He pressed his palm to hers. “Once a marine, always a marine at heart. And now I'm a Texas rancher, too.”

With no ranch to call his own. Yet.

Where had that thought come from?

He wasn't using her as a means to an end! He was not like that.

Hank had a lot more in his life, and on his mind, than the need to acquire land. He was a McCabe, and McCabes valued family and the people they loved above all else.

And even though Hank hadn't said he loved her, any more than she had confessed she loved him, she felt the connection between them. Knew they were on the cusp of something very moving and profound….

Whether or not it would last, she couldn't say. But she
was going to be here for another week. She intended to spend that time enjoying Hank's company, seeing where this would lead….

He disengaged his hand from hers and chucked her beneath the chin. “I wish you wouldn't worry so much.”

She wished so much wasn't at stake. How much easier it would be if Mesquite Ridge wasn't standing between them. She squinted at him. “I'm not worrying.”

“The wrinkle between your brows says otherwise.” Hank leaned over to kiss her temple. “All you have to do is trust me and give me a little more time, and I promise you, everything will be all right.”

 

H
ANK STAYED TO TAKE CARE
of Duchess and the puppies, then headed off to feed his herd and “do what he needed to do” to be able to make her a solid offer on the ranch.

Which meant, Ally thought, as she headed to her father's den to begin the task of going through his many papers, Hank would likely be spending time with Lulu Sanderson.

Ally knew she shouldn't be jealous.

Hank was an honorable man, and he had shown her how he felt about her, the night before.

She had to do what he had asked of her, and trust in his power to achieve his goals.

She reassured herself that, unlike her parents, Hank knew what he was doing when it came to the business side of ranching. Certainly he had the connections through his family to get any expertise, advice and probably even financing that he needed.

Yet as Ally plowed through her father's notes about one crazy, ill-formed plan after another to make Mesquite Ridge profitable, her mood went downhill fast.

She was close to putting her head down in despair when
Hank strode into the den, a fistful of mistletoe in his hand, a grin as big as Texas on his handsome face. “You look… happy,” Ally murmured. Really happy.

He set the mistletoe down and sat on the edge of the desk facing her, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “And you look like you just lost your prize cow.”

Ally flushed. “I don't have a prize cow.”

“Exactly.” He swiveled slightly, so the side of his denimclad leg pressed against hers. “But you could, if you hang with me long enough.” He paused to survey her from head to toe, before returning his gaze ever so deliberately to her face. “Seriously…” his voice dropped to a compassionate murmur “…what's going on?”

Ally rocked back in the ancient wooden swivel chair and sighed. “I was going through my dad's papers, trying to figure out if there was anything I should save.”

Hank's brows knit together. “And…?”

“See for yourself.” Feeling like she could use an impartial opinion, Ally handed over a folder. “These are his plans to put Mesquite Ridge on the map. First there was the dude ranch idea. He spent several years on that, when I was in elementary school, but learning how much it would cost to get an operation like that up and running eventually put an end to that notion.”

She handed over another folder. “Then there was his grand idea to open up a rock quarry on one end of the property and harvest limestone for builders.”

Hank frowned. “I imagine hauling the rock to the cities made the cost of that prohibitive.”

Ally sighed. “Exactly.” She picked up another box of meticulously kept folders. “For the next few years after that he tried to find a way to buy or build a giant telescope, and put a pay-per-view planetarium on the property for tourists or star lovers passing through.”

“Hmm.” Hank glanced through the pages and pages of papers. “That's actually kind of interesting.”

“If completely impractical,” Ally added impatiently. “Next up was the idea to build a wind farm and somehow connect it up to an electrical power plant.”

Hank raised his hand in the age-old gesture of peace. “He was just ahead of his time there. That's the wave of future.”

That, Ally knew. She wet her lips. “The point is…in all of this, you know what you don't see?”

Hank shrugged. “What?”

Ally drummed her hand on the scarred wooden desktop. “Books on cattle or grass management. Data on the latest breeding practices. Or anything related to what he was supposed to be doing all along, which was building a cattle operation.”

Hank cocked his head. “He had a herd.”

“A small one that never amounted to much. You can see when you drive around the property how he let the land go to seed. There's mesquite and cedar everywhere. And everyone knows you can never get rid of mesquite. Cut it down, and it comes right back up.”

“Hey. That's not such a bad thing.” Hank set her father's folders in one neat pile, on the far side of the desk. “All of that untamed brush has not only kept the topsoil intact, it's added to the nutrient value.”

Ally scowled. “You're just like him. You look at the land and you see value.”

Hank grinned. Clasping her hands in his, he stood and drew her to her feet. “I sure do. And you know what else I see?” He winked playfully, refusing to allow her glum mood to spread to him. “A promise I need to keep.”

The devilry in his blue eyes was almost as exciting as
his lovemaking had been. “And what ‘promise' would that be?” Ally found herself asking.

Hank picked up the half-dozen sprigs of mistletoe he had brought into the house, and clutched them in his fist. “Finding the perfect places to hang these.”

 

“Y
OU'RE SURE WE NEED
six
sprigs of mistletoe?” Ally asked as she and Hank set off to find the perfect spots to hang the holiday greenery.

Hank followed, admiring the view. There was no question Ally looked good in her chic city clothing, but she really filled out a pair of jeans and a sweater, too. “What number would you have us use?” He paused to secure one just inside his bedroom door.

Ally's heavenward glance told him what she thought about the subtlety of that. “One.”

“But then—” Hank continued on down the hall, stopping at her bedroom door. He stepped inside the sanctuary that had been hers for the first eighteen years of her life, and tacked one there, too. “—You wouldn't have one here.”

BOOK: A Cowboy Under the Mistletoe
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