Cowboy's Bride (5 page)

Arrogant bastard, he knew it, too.

She swallowed hard, not liking to back down.
"Excuse me.
I stand corrected," she said, biting the words out
grudgingly.
"If I've seen enough for today, perhaps we should head
back and you can tell me about castrating and tagging and record
keeping."

It was just a matter of time, he thought as
they turned toward the house.
She was getting a feel for how
complex and demanding the work was.
She wouldn't last long.

They rode in silence despite Kalli's request,
riding the horses hard until the last couple of miles when they
slowed them to a walk to cool them.
By the time they reached the
ranch house, Kalli was wilted.
She was hot, her hair like a blanket
on her back.
Tired and sore and disheartened, she wished she could
ignore the list of decisions Trace had enumerated.
There was more
to running this ranch than she thought.
And being around Trace was
driving her crazy.
She'd never wanted anyone to approve of her as
she did him.
Never wanted anyone to be attracted to her as she did
him.

First thing she should do is find a foreman
who wanted to run the ranch and let her sit on the porch and sip
tea.
But until then, she needed Trace.
She didn't even know how to
go about hiring another foreman.
She wished she could treat him as
casually as her brothers.
But the feelings swamping her weren't in
the slightest sisterly.

As they drew up to the barn, Trace stopped by
the corral.
Easily dismounting, he flung the reins casually over
the top rail and walked up to Kalli.
She sat on the horse, too
tired to even dismount.

Reaching up for her, he clasped his hands
lightly around her waist.
"Come on, Boss Lady.
Get down and go in
the house and fix us something cold to drink.
A sandwich wouldn't
come amiss, either."

Gently he drew her from the horse, sliding
her to the ground before him.
He gazed into her eyes as Kalli
gripped his shoulders to steady herself.

Her legs felt like wet spaghetti.
Her senses
roared out of control with his touch at her waist, with his hard
body pressed against hers.
His heat engulfed her, and she could
smell the faint hint of masculine sweat mixed in with the dust from
the corral and hay from the barn.
Her hands tightened against the
hard muscles of his shoulders, feeling them contract as he drew her
even closer.

"You're a tiny thing for a woman full grown,"
he said huskily.

Kalli pressed against him, relishing the heat
that spread from her belly to each extremity.
Looking up, she was
lost.
Tilting her head, she slowly closed her eyes as his face
blotted out the sun, coming closer, closer until his lips touched
hers.
She moved her lips against his and opened to him when he
sought more.
His tongue plunged inside the hot cavern of her mouth,
learning every bit of her, tracing her teeth, the roof of her
mouth, mating with her tongue, inviting it into his mouth.

Kalli was swept away with a riot of
sensations she'd never felt before.
She was instantly blazing hot,
wanting him with a fervor that went beyond anything she’d known
before.
She plastered herself against him, feeling her breasts
swell with desire, feeling her hands clutching his shoulders with
an intensity that shocked her.
When his arms came around her and
molded her to his long length, she gave a sweet sigh of surrender
and moved to deepen their kiss.
She was raging out of control and
didn't care.
It was glorious.
The sensations that coursed through
her insisted that she comply with the demands of his body.

He swept off her hat and wrapped his hand in
the thick waves that hung down her back.
Her hair was like silk.
His other hand skimmed across her rounded bottom, pressing her up
and into the hardness that pressed against her belly.
She was soft
and sweet and hot.

This was madness, but Kalli didn't care.
She
only wanted to go on forever in Trace's embrace.
The world spun out
of sight, and there were only the two of than in a creation of
their own.
A hot, wild, world where his touch awoke needs in her
that couldn't be extinguished.

The spell was shattered when her horse bumped
them.
Staggering slightly, Trace caught her up and turned around so
his back was to the mare.
Easing away from Kalli, he stared into
her sparkling eyes, his own blank and shuttered.
Hell, he hadn't
wanted that.

She licked her lips, still tasting him.
Smiling tremulously, she cocked her head slightly, feeling bereft
as his arms released her and be slowly stood to his full
height.

"I thought you didn't like me," she said
naively.

"Lady, if you left right now I wouldn't shed
a tear.
But my damned body wants yours like hell!'' He scooped up
her hat and set it hard on her head.

Kalli's breathing caught, then released.
Her
heart pounded at his words, at his kiss.
Her fingers longed to run
themselves over the heat of his skin, learn the landscape of his
muscles, learn what he liked and what he didn't.
Her gaze dropped
to his lips.
She longed for him to kiss her again.
Once again she
traced her own, tasting him, feeling a shock at the intimacy they'd
shared.
She blinked again and turned toward the house, her legs
shaky and trembling.
She needed a respite from him.
She couldn't
believe she'd kissed him so thoroughly.
For heaven's sake, she'd
only met him yesterday afternoon.
She hadn't even known him a day!
Yet she had been attracted to him from the first.
If he had pulled
her down and tumbled her in the hay, she'd have been willing.

She needed to get control of her hormones.
That's what it was.
She was so excited to be in Wyoming, she was
losing what sense she had.
Stepping into the cool kitchen, she
tossed her hat on the table and ran her trembling fingers through
her hair.
She just needed some time to herself to put things into
perspective.

He didn't even like her!
Yet he wanted her.
What kind of relationship would that bring?
Who was she kidding,
that was no relationship, that was sex, pure and simple.
Or hot and
complex, but sex nonetheless.
And she didn't want it.
Well, she
did, but with more than just animal lust behind it.
She wanted
caring and love.

Love?
From that arrogant, brash cowboy who
ordered her around when he was supposed to be working for her?
All
the time trying to get her ranch?
Ha!

She opened the refrigerator and stared
sightlessly at it until the cool air brought her around.
Slamming
it shut, she opened the freezer and took out the frozen lemonade.
She hadn't finished unpacking, still needed to get groceries.
She
had a million things to do and no time to be mooning around about
Trace Longford.

Hunting for a pitcher, she slammed one
cupboard door after another in frustration.
What good did it do to
inherit a ranch lock, stock and barrel if there was nothing to make
lemonade with?
Finally she drew out a large mixing bowl.
It would
have to do.

She was measuring the water when she heard
his boots on the back steps, and a moment later: the screen door
slammed behind him.
Suddenly the air seemed to arc with tension.
Watching the water fill the can, she was afraid to look around.
She
still had to face him.
And not only now, but for days and weeks to
come.
Her heart began pounding.

She heard a whooshing sound but didn't turn
around as his hat sailed onto the table beside hers.
Her eyes
remained on the lemonade.
In two seconds he was beside her,
casually leaning one hip against the counter, his arms folded
across his chest, his legs crossed as he watched her stir the
beverage.

She could see him from the corner of her eye,
but refused to meet his gaze.
Glad her dark coloring would hide the
heat rising in her body, she gave every aspect of concentration to
making the lemonade.

"You going to stir that all day?" he asked,
amusement lacing his tone.

"If I want to, I will.
I'm the boss—"

He broke into her speech by lifting her chin
with his warm fingers, tilting her face to meet his.

"It was only a kiss, Kalli.
Lighten up.
You've been kissed before."

"But not like that," she murmured.
Then
closed her eyes in anguish.
She hadn't wanted to admit it.

When his thumb brushed across her mouth, her
eyes flew open.

"You can't stay here, Kalli.
It's too much
for you.
You don't know enough and aren't going to have enough time
to learn it before you run the place into the ground.
Give it up
and go home." His gaze was on her mouth, on the movement of his
thumb across her lips.

"This is my home," she said breathlessly.
"I'll learn all I need to know to run the place.
And in the
meantime I can hire people who do know."

"While you stay—" he ignored her vow to
remain "—I'll help you out.
And if you want more than a few chaste
kisses, I'm willing.
I want you, Kalli."

She so didn't know how to deal with such
blatant desire.
The men she'd dated in Boston had been smooth,
sophisticated, restrained.
They would never have been so blunt,
especially on such short acquaintance.

But none of them had ever stirred her senses
as Trace did.

She took a deep breath and clasped his wrist
with her hand, longing to push him away, yet clamoring for more of
his touch.
Idly she noted his pulse was strong and steady, not
racing like hers.
His eyes met hers and he gazed at her for a long
moment.
She felt as if he could see into her soul.

"Please, Trace.
I can't.
I don't know you.
You don't know me.
It's too soon." She knew she wasn't doing a good
job of it, but she could scarcely think with the blood thrumming
through her veins, the heat of his hand scorching her.

He let his gaze slip across her, stalling for
time while he tried to think.
Her breasts were high and firm, a
little on the small side.
Yet his palms itched to cup them, feel
their weight, make her nipples harden against his hot skin.
Her
waist was narrow, her hips gently flared, filling the jeans she
wore like a man's dream.
Being with her fostered a hunger in him he
hadn't felt in a long, long time.
He didn't like it any more than
she did.

Hell.

"So you call the shots, Boss Lady.
Are you
going to serve up that lemonade?" He moved away, sat at the table,
his legs sprawled out before him, his thumbs tucked into his empty
belt loops as he watched her.

"Yes." She turned, glad of the activity.
She
would call the shots.
She was the boss and she had better remember
that.
She was used to advising patients what to do.
Maybe she could
pretend Trace was a patient.
Would he mind?
Somehow she thought of
him more as the recalcitrant kind, challenging her every
recommendation, then doing whatever he damned well pleased.

She set the two glasses on the table and
pulled out a chair, as far from him as she could get.

"I'm hungry," he said after he pulled a long
drink from the glass.

She frowned.
"I'm not your cook."

He shrugged and stood, reaching for his
hat.

"I'll be back tomorrow then.
See you."

"Wait!
Trace, where are you going?"

"I'm hungry.
If you're not going to feed me,
I'll go home for lunch.
I need to check on Becky anyway.
But it's
too long a drive to come back today and get anything done.
I'll be
back tomorrow."

"Dammit, I'll fix you lunch!" She jumped up
and crossed angrily to the refrigerator.
He was pushing his luck.
Just wait until she knew something about ranching.
She'd tell him
to take a flying leap.
She hadn't come all the way from Boston to
end up with some arrogant cowboy who thought she should wait on him
hand and foot.
Dammit, she was the boss—not him.