Cowboy for Keeps (12 page)

“Guess I have you to thank.” He gazed at Dallas, his expression
intimate. Personal.

Chills danced up her spine. “Nonsense.”

“If you hadn’t dragged me here, I wouldn’t have met
Sunday.”

“All it takes is a connection. I’ve learned when courting new
clients that they’re more likely to sign with me if we share an interest. With
you and Sunday, it’s your mutual love of animals.”

They floated across the floor to the music of the string
quartet. She reveled in the new and exciting sensation of his strong hand
resting on the small of her back and the breadth of his muscled shoulders
beneath her arm.

Then again, she’d felt all that before, and more, when he’d
kissed her on her front porch.

“I don’t want her giving me the job just because she admires my
work with the mustang sanctuary.”

“Why not?”

“I want the job because I’m the most qualified candidate.”

“Conner, you are the most qualified. You and ten or twenty
other applicants. There’s always that one thing that makes a person stand out
from the rest. It doesn’t have to be professional—it can be personal. She thinks
it’s cool that you train wild mustangs. Take advantage of it. I guarantee you,
the other applicants won’t hesitate to do the same.”

“How’d you get so smart?” He twirled her in a circle. “They
teach you that at photography school?”

“I think I picked it up from years of living with Hank.”

“I guess growing up with him for a stepdad wasn’t all bad.”

Something shifted inside her. “No, I guess it wasn’t.” After
another turn on the dance floor, she said, “Call me right away after you talk to
Sunday. And take the job when she offers it to you.”

“If she offers it.”

“When,” Dallas reiterated.

“Whatever you say.” He dipped her, then pulled her up hard
against him.

Dallas’s heart cartwheeled. Any reminders about not becoming
involved with him were ignored. She was falling fast and with no net in
sight.

“Excuse me,” Conner said when they bumped into another couple
just as the song was ending.

“Conner Durham?” Recognition illuminated the woman eyes. “It’s
Anita. From Signatures Studio.”

“Anita!” He gave the elegantly dressed, middle-aged woman a
brief hug. “Good to see you.”

“This is my husband.” She took the arm of the man beside
her.

Names were exchanged as they left the dance floor. At the edge,
out of the way of other dancers, they stopped to chat.

“Anita is a friend of Leeza’s,” Conner explained to Dallas.

“A coworker, actually,” Anita amended. “I’m the office manager
at the modeling agency where Leeza’s registered.”

“Oh, okay.” A banal reply, but Dallas didn’t know how to
respond. Conner rarely mentioned his former girlfriend.

Was that because she’d hurt him? Or did he still care?

“Leeza’s one of our most requested models.” Anita glanced at
Dallas and quickly changed the subject. “Where are you working now, Conner?”

He told them about the mustang sanctuary and his work with
Dallas. They must have been impressed, because they couldn’t take their eyes off
him.

Dallas fumed just a tiny bit. She had no reason whatsoever to
be jealous. None at all. Just because Leeza was a statuesque model with a
runway-worthy figure. After having a child, no less. And was the agency’s most
requested model.

“Well, we’d best get back to our table,” Anita said when a
couple brushed by them. “Before we cause an accident.”

She and Conner hugged again. He acknowledged her husband with a
friendly nod before they parted.

At their table, Dallas grabbed her bag. “If you don’t mind, I
need to freshen up a bit.”

“Can I get you anything while you’re gone? Coffee? More
water?”

Was the prospect of a job with Sonoran Bottling responsible for
the smile on his face? Or was he thinking of Leeza?

“I’m fine, thanks.”

Just as Dallas finished washing her hands at the restroom sink,
Anita entered.

“Guess we had the same idea,” she exclaimed warmly, her gaze
traveling to Dallas’s waistline. “When are you due?”

The question threw her. She had only just started to show, was
at that stage where she could easily be mistaken for carrying a few extra
pounds. This was the first time a stranger had noticed her pregnancy.

She felt herself glowing.

“How did you know?” Her hand went automatically to her
stomach.

“That,” Anita said, smiling sentimentally. “It’s something
pregnant mothers can’t help doing.”

Dallas liked being referred to as a pregnant mother. “I’m not
due till April 4. Seems like a long way away.”

“The weeks will fly by.” Anita removed her lipstick from her
purse and applied a fresh coat, gazing into the mirror. “Conner’s going to be a
great dad.”

“H-he’s not the father.” At Anita’s confused look, she
clarified, “We’re just friends. He escorted me here as a favor. I thought it
would be a good opportunity for him to make some contacts.”

“My mistake.” The other woman appeared flustered. “When I saw
the two of you dancing...I just assumed.”

“There’s nothing romantic between us.”

“Too bad.”

“No, it’s good, actually. We’ve been friends a long time. I
wouldn’t want to complicate things.”

“I meant too bad he’s not going to be a father. Conner loves
children. He treated Leeza’s daughter like his own.”

“He did?” Dallas was more than interested; she was
fascinated.

“Absolutely. The poor darling was devastated when her mother
and Conner broke up. Still is, from what Leeza has said.” Anita shook her head.
“I tell you, that woman didn’t know what she gave up when she walked out. Men
like him don’t come around often.”

“I’ve seen Conner with his niece. His best friend’s
stepdaughter, actually.”

What sort of father would Richard be? He wanted to marry her
and was more than willing to provide for their baby. But he generally avoided
the company of children and had wanted to wait to start a family.

She would ask him how he really felt if she wasn’t convinced
he’d say what he thought she wanted to hear.

“What a dolt I am.” Anita flushed. “Here I am, going on and on
about Conner. I’m sure your husband is every bit as wonderful with kids.”

“I’m not married.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “Your baby’s father. He must be
thrilled.”

“We’re not together.” As nice as Anita was being, Dallas was
starting to feel uncomfortable. She would have made an excuse to leave, but
Anita had other ideas.

“I know you said you and Conner aren’t dating, but you might
reconsider it.” When another woman entered the restroom, Anita lowered her vice
to a conspiratorial whisper. “He likes you. I can tell by the way he said your
name when he introduced us. Like it melted on his tongue.”

Had he really?

“Think about it.”

“I...I can’t.”

Anita smiled saucily. “Sure you can.”

Dallas sought Conner out the moment she returned to the banquet
room.

Maybe she’d been wrong all along about blended families. Maybe
some did work. Gavin and Sage’s obviously did. As had Conner and Leeza’s. For a
while. Her own blended family might have meshed better if Dallas and her brother
had given Hank half a chance.

When she reached the table, Conner was wearing an ear-to-ear
grin.

“Did something happen while I was gone?”

“Sunday left. She reminded me she’ll be waiting for my call
Monday morning.”

“I have a good feeling about her and the bottling plant,
Conner.”

“Me, too.” He held Dallas’s chair for her, ran his fingertips
along her bare shoulder, familiarly and affectionately, as if they were indeed a
couple.

When he asked her a short while later if she was ready to leave
or wanted to dance again, Dallas chose the latter—just so she could enjoy
floating in his embrace once more.

It had been an altogether perfect evening. By the time they
left, Dallas was more than ready to throw caution to the wind. If Conner tried
to kiss her, she’d let him.

And if he didn’t, she just might try and kiss
him.

Chapter Twelve

Conner walked Dallas to her front door. He didn’t
expect a repeat of the previous time—Richard showing up unexpectedly
or
the kiss. Despite the chemistry between them, she’d
given Conner no indication whatsoever that she wanted to be more than friends
and business associates.

A shame. She really rocked that dress.

A hug would be appropriate, he decided while she unlocked her
door, and not out of line. He reached for her with open arms, only to find
himself holding empty air.

She stood on the threshold. “Would you like to come in for a
bit? I can fix you a cup of coffee, or maybe you’d like a beer?”

Come in? For a bit? “Yeah, sure. Just a cold drink if you have
one.”

“Soda or iced tea?”

“Either’s fine.” He stepped into her town house, watching as
she set her bag on an entry table and punched a code into the security alarm pad
on the wall. The earsplitting screeching came to an immediate stop.

“Ouch!”

He looked down to find a small white cat clinging to his pant
leg. Conner was afraid to move for fear the pinlike nails piercing his skin
would go deeper. He’d learned his lesson with the cholla cactus.

“Sorry.” Dallas bent and took hold of the tiny, fur-covered
terror. “This is Snow White. She likes to play.”

“Play?” Conner would hate to be in the cat’s way if she was
mad.

“Don’t move.”

“Not a problem.”

Dallas gently pried the cat loose and it promptly turned on
her. Okay, not turned on her. What he’d mistaken for aggression was actually
affection. Wedging herself in the crook of Dallas’s neck, Snow White purred,
loudly enough to disturb the people sleeping in the unit next door.

“She’s a rescue animal,” Dallas explained, stroking the cat’s
back. “I’ve only had her a couple of months. We’re still working on her social
skills. She’s young and thinks everyone wants to play.”

“It figures, the first time I meet her I’m not wearing
boots.”

Dallas laughed. “Do you like cats?”

“My mom and sisters always had them.” He gave Snow White’s head
a scratching, which revved up her purring. “They always seemed to like me more
than I liked them.”

“I can see why.” Something not quite definable flashed in
Dallas’s eyes. “You have nice hands.”

His pulse instantly spiked. That was definitely not a
friends-only signal.

She turned away, making him wonder if he’d misread her. “Over
here’s Sleeping Beauty.”

One of those carpeted cat condos stood in the corner of the
room. On the top perch, a hugely fat, striped cat slumbered. It didn’t even
crack an eye open when Dallas set the little white cat on a lower perch.

“I’ve had her three years. She was my first rescue. I’d love to
have a dog, but my schedule’s too hectic. Cats are easier.”

Dallas led the way to the kitchen, where she produced two cans
of diet soda from the fridge, offering one to Conner. “Would you like a glass
and some ice for that?”

“Don’t bother.” He popped the top on the can and took a
swallow. “It’s nice to meet the family.”

“Oh, that’s not everyone.”

On cue, a dusty-gray cat appeared from around the corner.
Seeing Dallas, he ran for her, meowing like crazy.

“This is Charming.” Dallas stood at the counter while the cat
wove around her legs in a continual figure eight pattern. “He’s the lover of the
bunch.”

“I see that.”

The cat abruptly stopped, gave Conner a rather disdainful
once-over, hissed, and then resumed lavishing affection on Dallas.

“Apparently he’s only charming with you.”

Dallas frowned in puzzlement. “That’s odd. He’s usually
friendly.”

“He must not like the suit.”

“Well, I like it.” She smiled, that undefinable emotion
twinkling in her eyes again.

Conner distracted himself with another swallow of soda. “You
have any other cats waiting to pounce on me?”

“Three’s my limit. And I only adopted Snow White because she
was on the euthanasia list at the county pound. A friend contacted me and asked
me to foster her. Temporarily. You can see how that’s going.”

“Helping animals is your passion. I admire you. I’d have been
surprised if you didn’t have a houseful of pets.”

“Glad to know I didn’t disappoint.”

Conner had the impression he’d passed some sort of test.

“Sit?” She moved toward the table.

He beat her to it and pulled out her chair.

“You don’t have to do that,” she insisted. “We’re not at the
Phoenician anymore.”

“My mom was a stickler for manners. Drilled them into me and my
sisters at an early age.”

“Give her my regards. She did a good job.” Dallas waited for
him to join her before saying, “I admire you, too.”

“For my manners?” He removed his suit jacket and slung it over
the back of his chair.

“For making the best of lousy circumstances. The last six
months can’t have been easy for you. A lot of people would have buckled under,
collected unemployment compensation, let the bank repossess their house. You
didn’t. You’re a fighter.”

Few people spoke frankly to Conner about the financial
ramifications of being laid off. They preferred to tiptoe around the subject for
fear of embarrassing or offending him. Her praise for his efforts to salvage
what pride he had left made him feel good—confident and capable—when nothing
else had lately.

“That means a lot to me.”

“Things will be different starting Monday. Your life is about
to change.”

“Sunday Givens and the Sonoran Bottling Plant.” He could still
hardly believe it.

“Are you going to quit working with the wild mustangs?”

“I haven’t gotten the job yet.”

“Don’t think like that!”

She was right. He had to be more positive. “No, I’d like to
stay involved with the sanctuary, if only on my days off.”

She nodded.

He felt as if he’d passed another test. “I owe you.”

“Me? You’re the one who impressed Sunday.”

“You’ve pushed me. Cheered me on. Encouraged me. Not just
through pep talks but by setting an example. The longer I’ve been away from the
corporate world, the harder it is for me to put myself out there.”

“You bring a lot to the table, Conner. Professionally and
personally. Anita told me tonight that Leeza made a big mistake leaving you. I
agree with her.”

“Leeza wanted different things from our relationship.”

“Leeza didn’t love you. Not enough and not like you deserve to
be loved.”

“I might have dodged a bullet with her.”

“Might have?” Dallas smiled brightly, then shyly. “I won’t say
I’m unhappy you’re single again.”

That was all it took. Desire hit Conner with the force of a
head-on collision. He wanted her. Like no other woman before. Wanted her so
desperately, he couldn’t be trusted alone with her a moment longer.

“It’s getting late.” He stood, his legs weak at the knees, and
removed his jacket from the chair. “I should leave.”

“All right.” She walked with him to the living room. Before
they reached the door, she stopped him with a hand on his arm and a soft,
“Wait.”

“Did I forget something?”

“Only this.” She lifted her lips to his and brushed them
lightly across his mouth. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

Fire exploded inside him. He dropped his jacket, grabbed her by
the shoulders and held her in place against him. “If I kiss you back, I won’t
stop there.”

“Do you want to kiss me back?”

He groaned. “You have no idea.”

“I think I do.” She placed her palm on his cheek, angled her
body closer to his and inhaled as if she couldn’t get enough of him.

Before tonight, Conner hadn’t considered himself good enough
for Dallas. It wasn’t just the potential job with Sonoran Bottling that had him
reconsidering. It was her belief in him.

“Kiss me,” she said, her eyes closing in anticipation. “I want
to taste you.”

He abandoned all control. Covering her mouth with his, he let
the fire burning inside him consume them both.

* * *

D
ALLAS
’
S
HANDS
FRAMED
Conner’s face as he encircled her waist and took possession
of her. They fit perfectly, their closeness generating an incredible heat.

She moaned, curled her fingers into the hair at the base of his
neck. His body, highly responsive to her every move, went rigid.

Did she have any idea what she was getting into? He anchored
her hips to him so there would be no doubt.

Gasping softly, she pulled away. “Give me a second.”

He was coming on too strong. Scaring her off. “Dallas, I—”

She kicked off one shoe, then the other. “Much better.”

Much better indeed.

They found each other again and kissed hungrily. His hand
snaked underneath her dress and skimmed her smooth thigh.

“Mmm.” She pushed more material aside.

It was an invitation he couldn’t refuse. His fingers climbed
till they found the edge of her panties, where they toyed with the elastic leg
band.

“Take this off,” she murmured, tugging at his tie.

“Let me.” The tie landed on the floor beside his jacket.

She undid the top two buttons of his shirt, revealing the patch
of hair above the V-neck of his undershirt. Smiling with delight, she lightly
caressed him, her nails scraping his fevered skin.

Conner was quickly approaching the point where going back would
be impossible. He called on the one tiny sliver of responsibility that remained.
“We don’t have to do this. It’s up to you.”

“Make love to me. Please. It’s what I want and what I think you
want, too.”

He did want it. With an intensity that stripped his emotions to
their very core.

“What about the baby?”

“The baby will be fine. As long as you’re gentle.”

“I won’t hurt you. Either of you.” He’d die first.

She undid two more buttons. His arms shook from the effort of
restraining himself.

“There’s something you need to know. Before this goes any
further.” He gulped air, feeding his starving lungs. “I...care about you.”

Conner’s feelings were more complicated than that, but he
wasn’t ready to express them. As it was, he could hardly form simple
sentences.

“I know. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked you inside, much
less into my bedroom.” She grinned wickedly. “Unless you’d rather make love
right here on the living room floor.”

He bent and lifted her in his arms.

She laughed, light and melodious. The sound galvanized him.

“The bedroom. For the first time. After that, I’ll make love to
you anywhere in the house. Any room, on any piece of furniture. As many times as
you want.”

Her brows rose. “I just might take you up on that.”

Now it was his turn to grin wickedly. “Which way?”

He carried her down the hall and into the master bedroom.
Enough light shone in for him to make out the bed. He headed straight for
it.

He set Dallas down on the mattress, following her as she lay
back on the quilted spread, arms stretched over her head. She looked like a
dream in the pale, pale light. Sensuous and alluring.

“You’re incredible.” He reached for her dress, slipping it
slowly up her thighs.

“Wait one minute.” She stayed his hand.

“Is something wrong?”

“You first,” she said quietly, lowering her eyes.

Was she shy? She hadn’t been till now.

“It’s okay,” he murmured.

“Easy for you to say. Your body isn’t changing on you every
day. Becoming rounder and softer and...different.”

“I like rounder and softer and different.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

He tilted her chin until her gaze met his. “You’re beautiful,
Dallas, and sexy as hell.”

“I still want you to go first.”

“Gladly.” He released her and yanked his dress shirt and
undershirt from the waistband of his trousers. His belt came next. Then his
boots and socks.

“Let me.”

Rising onto her knees, she removed his dress shirt, peeling it
off him much like the night in his apartment when she helped him with the cholla
stickers. With one barrier gone, she let her fingers glide over his biceps,
murmuring admiringly. Finally, she removed his undershirt, sliding it over his
head and tossing it aside. Her eyes sparked, reflecting her appreciation as they
traveled down his naked torso, and then turned dark.

She sighed. “I can’t not touch you.”

The sensation of her fingers on his chest was like warm silk.
Her lips, dropping light kisses in the wake of her fingers, seared his skin.

“I want to go slow.” She returned to his mouth, covered it with
hers.

What she wanted to do was kill him by slow torture.

He unfastened his trousers. She unzipped them. Her hand made
contact with his erection through his briefs. A current of pure electricity shot
through him.

“Dallas, I...” She wasn’t making this easy. “I don’t have any
condoms. Wasn’t planning on this. Us.”

She swept his hair from his eyes, the gesture tender. “It’s a
little late to worry about birth control.”

“Not that. I’m healthy. I promise. But you shouldn’t take any
risks. Not with the baby.”

“Thank you for being considerate. I have some. Left over—”

“Where?”

“In the nightstand.”

He opened the drawer and found enough packets that they could
try out two more places besides the bed, if Dallas had the inclination and he
the strength.

He hastily removed his trousers and briefs. Naked at last, he
stood before her.

She lowered herself onto her calves and stared. With each
passing second, he grew harder.

“You’re beautiful,” she breathed.

A lifetime of sports, rodeoing and breaking horses had left
their marks on him, good and bad. He hoped his toned muscles made a better
impression than his scars.