Matt (5 page)

“Far from it.”

Something in the way she said it had him looking from her mouth to her eyes.

Alarmed that he could read her thoughts, she blindly reached a hand to the door, only to have her hand come in contact with his.

She pulled it away as though burned, but it was too late. The rush of heat had her cheeks going bright pink.

“Nessa…”

She looked up to see him watching her in that quiet, closed way.

Before she had a chance to think about what she was doing she stood on tiptoe and touched his mouth with a soft butterfly kiss as light as a snowflake.

His eyes narrowed. His hands gripped her shoulders and for a moment he hesitated, as though considering. Then he lowered his head, staring into her eyes before covering her lips with his.

He kissed her with a thoroughness that had all the breath backing up in her throat. His lips, warm and firm, moved over hers with an intensity that had her heart pounding in her temples. There was such controlled strength in him. In the way he held her. The way he touched her. The way he kissed her. It was the most purely sensual feeling she'd ever experienced. She had a sudden urgent desire to see all that cool composure slip away.

Caught by complete surprise, her papers slipped from her hands, spilling onto the floor as she leaned into him, craving more.

He lingered a moment longer, as though unable or unwilling to break contact.

Breathing hard, his fingers closed around her upper arms, and he held her a little away while his eyes narrowed on hers. “Sorry. My fault.”

“No. Mine. I…” She stared at the documents on the floor, as though unaware of how they got there.

They both dropped to their knees, gathering the papers, studiously avoiding touching.

When they stood, they both heard the sound of a truck door being slammed.

As the cabin door opened, they stepped apart, neither of them willing to look at the other.

B
urke stood in the open doorway. “I hope you're ready, Miss Kettering. We've got a long drive ahead of us through a sea of mud.”

“I'm…ready.” Completely flustered, she held her laptop and folders to her chest as she stepped outside.

Burke trailed her, carrying the box of supplies that had been sitting by the door.

Matt strode to the kitchen counter and filled the other boxes.

While Vanessa settled into the passenger side, Matt and Burke made several trips back and forth from the cabin to the truck, storing boxes in the rear of the vehicle.

Then, as the old cowboy climbed into the driver's side and started along a muddy trail, Vanessa turned in time to see Matt leading a horse from the lean-to behind the cabin.

She glanced at Burke, who merely grinned. “I warned Matt it would be a messy slog, but he wasn't about to leave old Beau behind.”

“Do you think they'll make it?”

At the worried look in her eyes he merely chuckled. “No matter the condition of the trail, my money's always on Matt Malloy. That man could make it through a blizzard, a nor'easter, or the storm of the century.”

“You make him sound like Superman.”

“Better than that, Miss Kettering. Superman's fiction. Matt's a real flesh-and-blood cowboy. I don't think there's a crisis in these parts that Matt couldn't overcome.”

Vanessa sat back, pondering the old man's words.

What was it about Matt Malloy that had her behaving like someone she didn't even know? Take that kiss. She'd actually initiated it. And why? At the moment she wasn't sure. But at the time, she'd been incapable of resisting the urge. And once started, she felt as though she'd unleashed a hurricane.

That mouth. Those clever lips. Those strong arms holding her as gently as if she were delicate crystal.

Instead of pushing away, she'd become completely caught up in the moment. She couldn't recall the last time a man's kiss had had such an effect on her. She'd been absolutely drowning in feelings, and all in the space of a couple of seconds.

Though she tried to keep from looking back, every once in a while she would swivel her head to see Matt on his horse, navigating the trail some distance behind their truck.

Before they were even halfway to the ranch, the truck was covered in mud, as were the horse and rider behind them. But despite the conditions of the trail, the horse never stumbled or slowed its pace. And the man astride his horse sat tall in the saddle, looking as regal as a king surveying his kingdom.

Old Burke glanced in the rearview mirror before turning his gaze on her. “How'd you like to be riding with him?”

She'd been thinking the same thing. Despite the terrible conditions of the trail, there was something so raw and primitive about Matt Malloy, she'd been daydreaming about riding behind him, her arms wrapped around his waist, her face pressed to his neck. The mere thought had her shivering.

“I guess I should be glad I wasn't dressed for riding.”

He joined in her laughter. “My thoughts exactly. Though I do love my horse, I'll take the comfort of this truck anytime, especially after a storm like the one we had last night.”

Her own laughter rang hollow in her ears. In truth, she would take the sea of mud anytime over the comfort of this truck, if only she could have her hands on Matt Malloy.

To keep from thinking about him, she plucked her cell phone from her pocket and dialed her father's cell. She left another message before calling his office, where she left a similar message.

Puzzled, she made a mental note to try him again on the plane ride home.

Matt had to keep forcing his attention back to the treacherous trail. The thought of Vanessa Kettering kept blurring his focus.

He prided himself on always being in control. Ever since the tragic death of his parents, he'd assumed the role of leader to his two younger brothers, though he was still as wild and free as he'd always been. He worked hard at leaving the spontaneous, juvenile behavior to Luke and Reed. He'd trained himself to be disciplined and deliberate, steering the family business in a safe direction, always weighing both sides of an issue before making a decision that he knew would affect his entire family.

And back there in the range shack he'd thrown caution to the wind to do something just for the hell of it.

He would like to blame it on the situation. A small, cramped cabin. A gorgeous, unexpected woman interrupting all his carefully laid plans of solitude. The fact that he'd been forced to watch her sleep just a few feet away. But the truth was that those were all flimsy excuses for his out-of-character behavior. He'd kissed her simply because he'd wanted to.

It was only a kiss, he told himself. But again, truth won out, and he was forced to admit that, despite the fact that he'd kept it as light as possible, that simple touch of her lips had been an assault on all his senses. An explosion of light in his brain, followed by a rush of heat before the floor beneath his feet began to go all crazy and actually tilt until he'd nearly lost his balance. And all the while, thoughts of taking her right there on the cold, hard floor of the cabin had played through his mind.

What in hell had happened to his logic? His common sense?

He didn't know what intrigued him more. The fact that he was actually sorry that Vanessa Kettering was leaving, or the fact that he'd behaved like some kind of lonely mountain man bidding a final farewell.

A mountain man. He ran a hand through his rough beard and swore. Wasn't that how she saw him? As some kind of Neanderthal?

Still, she hadn't slapped his face, though he'd deserved it. And he could tell himself that he read an invitation in her eyes, especially after that sweet little kiss she'd given him first, but that didn't give him the right to take advantage. She was a guest. Here to interview his grandmother. And the fact that she'd been forced to spend the night didn't give him any rights.

He swore. It had been just a quick kiss. And yet, even now, slogging through mud that required his full attention, he couldn't stop thinking about it. And about the woman who'd felt so damned good in his arms.

It was a lucky thing she was leaving. He wasn't going to see her again. Because if he did, he'd be tempted to share much more than a kiss.

Vanessa Kettering had been a lovely distraction, but now he needed to get his mind back on the family business.

Matt hosed down his mud-spattered horse and toweled him dry before turning him loose in a pasture. Though old Beau had stood perfectly still during the entire process, Matt could have sworn that sly animal was smiling and enjoying being pampered. And once in the pasture, the old horse kicked up its heels and broke into a gallop.

It was exactly how Matt felt. Some time in the hills, one unplanned kiss, and he felt like a stallion just turned loose in a field full of sleek mares.

He looked around at the portion of roof ripped from one of the outbuildings. A section of fence was missing, obviously blown away in the wind. And a corral gate stood at an odd angle, having been nearly ripped off its hinges during the storm.

How much more, he wondered, had been damaged by last night's storm?

He trudged up to the house, where he kicked off his boots before bending to a sink in the mudroom to wash.

In the kitchen, a chorus of voices told him that most of the family had gathered around to meet their unexpected guest.

Yancy was pouring coffee while his grandfather and great-grandfather were chatting up Vanessa. Across the table, Luke and Reed, fresh off the range and looking like wild mountain men, were staring at the newcomer with obvious, wide-eyed approval, while Colin was leaning against the kitchen counter and, like the lone cowboy he was, watching from a discreet distance.

“…wind so strong last night it blew a section of fence onto the roof of the barn.” Frank chuckled. “I'm just glad I wasn't out during the worst of it. I'd probably be up there, too.”

He glanced over as Matt paused in the doorway. “Hey, sonny boy. You look like you've been out playing with the hogs.”

“Yeah.” Matt grinned. “Making mudpies. Since I assume you've all introduced yourselves to Miss Kettering, I'll leave you to visit. I'll be downstairs in a while.”

When he was gone, the cook set out a plate of chocolate chip cookies still warm from the oven.

“My favorites.” Nelson jokingly snatched up the entire plate and held it to one side. “Glad you made these for me, Yancy, but you should have made enough to go around.”

“Talk about hogs…” Luke reached over his great-grandfather's shoulder and grabbed the plate from his hand. “You could at least give our houseguest the first choice.”

With a laugh, Vanessa accepted one from the plate before Luke passed it around to the others.

“I'm getting mine while the getting's good.” Burke helped himself to two, as did Colin.

Vanessa bit into one and gave a sigh of pleasure. “I can't remember the last time I tasted homemade cookies.”

“Then you're traveling in the wrong circles, little lady.” Yancy transferred another batch from the baking tin to a plate and handed it to Frank. “I bake something fresh every day.”

She looked over. “You're kidding.”

The cook shrugged. “On a ranch this size, with a family like the Malloys, it's as natural as breathing. I think every one of them has a sweet tooth.”

She gave a shake of her head. “You bake every day? I feel like I fell into a parallel universe. What happened to my world of coffee shops on every corner, and baked goods that were fresh last week and filled with preservatives?”

Burke and Yancy shared a smile as Yancy poured himself a cup of coffee. “I recall feeling that way when I first arrived here. I looked around at this big house, and this loud, crazy family—”

“Hey. Who're you calling crazy?” Reed reached out and helped himself to a warm cookie.

Yancy continued as though he hadn't been interrupted. “—and I realized that, no matter how isolated this place was from the rest of the world, I never wanted to leave.”

“How long ago was that?” Vanessa asked.

“Thirty-five years ago.”

“That long?” Vanessa helped herself to another cookie. “Have you ever regretted staying?”

“Just about every day,” Luke answered for him.

That had the others laughing.

Yancy merely grinned. “Oh, I may have thought once or twice about exchanging kitchen duties for some time spent up in the hills with the herds, especially in the middle of summer.” He looked down at himself—all five feet two inches—and rolled his eyes. “But then I see how hard those wranglers work, and I remind myself that I've got the best life of all.”

“Just remember, Yancy.” Nelson helped himself to another cookie. “This family's got dozens of guys who can babysit cattle. But there's only one guy on this ranch that could put Hollywood's gourmet cooks to shame. So don't even think about giving it up to ride herd on some ornery cows.”

They were still laughing when Matt descended the stairs. He'd shaved off his rough beard and was dressed in a clean pair of denims, a crisp shirt, and shiny boots.

“I see we've got almost the entire family here. All that's missing—” He looked over as the back door burst open on a gust of wind and his grandmother kicked off mud-caked boots before hanging her parka on a hook. “I take that back. Now the entire gang is under one roof.”

Gracie rolled her sleeves and washed before stepping into the kitchen.

As she did, Matt said, “Vanessa Kettering, this is the woman you came here hoping to interview. Gracie, this is—”

“—the lawyer from the wildlife federation?” Gracie's face creased into a wide smile. “I'll be darned. Just when I was feeling bad about having a lawyer invade my grandson's privacy, it turns out to be a beautiful young woman.”

“Yeah,” Reed exchanged a knowing look with Luke and their uncle Colin. “What're the odds? If I'd been up in the hills, I'd probably have to share my range shack with a bobcat.”

“Or a toothless old wrangler looking for work,” Luke added.

While the others laughed, Gracie offered a handshake, giving Vanessa a long, considering appraisal. “Aren't you kind of young to be worrying about the fate of wild things?”

Vanessa clasped Gracie's hand. “I didn't realize there was an age requirement for this sort of work.”

Gracie merely smiled. “You're right, of course. But most of the requests I get about the mustangs come from folks my age, who have the time to worry about such things. Most young people are too busy trying to jump-start a career to give a thought to the plight of wild animals.”

“Here, Gracie Girl.” Frank held a chair. As she sat, he put his arms around her and brushed the back of her neck with a kiss. “I was worried about you up in those hills in that storm.”

She turned and touched a hand to his cheek. “I found shelter in a little cave beneath some rocky outcroppings. I'd have stayed in the truck, but the way it was rocking in that wind, I was afraid it might topple clean on its side. And by the time the storm blew over, the herd I'd been trailing was long gone. I was cold, wet, and I figured I'd better head home while the trails were still passable.”

“I'm glad you did, my girl.” Frank kissed her lips and kept his arms around her when she picked up the cup of coffee offered by Yancy.

His concern, and their obvious devotion to each other, wasn't lost on the others.

Matt turned to Burke. “I guess we'd better get Vanessa to town. She has a plane to catch.”

Yancy offered his hand. “It was nice meeting you, Miss Kettering. If you're ever in Montana again, I hope you'll come back for a visit.”

“I'd love to, Yancy. And call me Nessa. Thanks for the coffee and cookies. These were the best ever.”