The Cowgirl's Secret (The Diamondback Ranch Series #) (2 page)

"Well, I'm here to claim my dance now, by Kelsey's command. She said both you and Doc should lead out the first dance." Sam leaned so close his breath scorched her ear. "Punch the numbers to
our
song, Tori. You know the one."

Oh, she knew all right. Tori swallowed hard. Sam's musky aftershave triggered memories.
So many memories. Good and bad . . . and sad.

"Dance with me, babe. You know you want to."

Tori inhaled a deep shuddering breath.
Yes, she wanted
.
Oh God, how she wanted.
Punching the numbers on the jukebox, it wasn't long before the sweet strains of one of Faith Hill's love songs filled the air.

Doc led his wife out onto the dance floor, bowed with a flourish, then took her in his arms and held her close as they danced. Tori smiled. The Pritchards had been married almost fifty years. They were still very much in love, living proof of happily-ever-after.

Would she ever get hers? Tori wondered. It was all so complicated, so difficult.

She looked back at Sam, his big body towering over her, and her breath caught in her throat. His eyes glowed with a barely-suppressed sensual heat. He touched her cheek with one gentle finger. "You've held me off for four years. Four very long years that need to end right now. A man only has so much patience. You belong with me, babe. We belong together."

"Sam, I--"

"Shhh." He placed two fingers over her lips. "No, you're right. This isn't the time or place. Just dance with me, babe. That's all I'm asking for right now. Let's enjoy the music, the dance and each other."

Before she could reply, Sam gathered her close and twirled her onto the dancing platform, sliding into the Texas Two-Step with finesse and grace. With one hand on Tori's waist and the other clamped on the back of her neck, they circled the dance floor, his dark eyes holding hers in a mesmerizing spell.

Tori lost herself in the intensity of Sam's gaze, and the crowd slowly faded into the background. They became totally absorbed in one another as they danced to the music of their own special song.

***

PART ONE

CHAPTER ONE

Dallas, Texas. Five years earlier.

Sam Garza sat at the bar in a crowded dance club in north Dallas drinking his second bourbon and Coke, watching the group of young women in the corner laughing and giggling and having a grand old time. Seemed to be some kind of birthday celebration going on. And judging by the giddiness of the curvy blonde who had caught his attention the moment he'd walked into the place, it looked as if she was the birthday girl.

The young woman was a knockout, that was for sure. He'd gotten a close look at her when she'd passed by on her way to the restrooms. She was pretty and appealing. A freshness glowed in those rosy cheeks. A youthful innocence shimmered in those sapphire blue eyes. The pert little nose and firm chin suggested a stubborn disposition. And the wild tangle of golden curls hinted at a streak of untamed passion.

Sam shook his head and drained his glass. All that supposition and he hadn't even talked to the girl. And
girl
was the key word here. He never dated young innocent women. And that girl was definitely a lot younger than he was. A mere babe in the woods.

He looked around the club, eying all the other females, but his attention always riveted back to the blonde. He really needed to find a woman to relieve some of his sexual tension before he went completely loco. A woman closer to his own age. A woman who knew the rules of the game.

"Why don't you just ask her to dance, instead of staring a hole straight through her?" Joe Salinas said, slapping Sam on the back.

Sam shook his head. "She's too young."

"Not so, dude. It's her birthday. She's
twenty-one and fair game. Ask her to dance. If you don't, I will."

"Like hell you will." Sam gripped his highball glass tightly, surprised at the flash of jealousy clenching his stomach.
What the hell was wrong with him?

Joe grinned. "Oh ho! Looks like someone's been bitten by the
love bug
. Ask her to dance, dude. Or have those New York chicks spoiled you, so you can't enjoy an old-fashioned Texas girl?"

"Just because we're in a bar in Dallas doesn't necessarily mean she's a Texas girl." Sam watched as the blonde walked onto the dance floor, holding hands with a tall lanky cowboy.

His stomach clenched again.
Which was ridiculous
. He ordered another drink.

Joe nudged Sam in the ribs with his elbow. "Hey, buddy. I know for sure she's a Texas girl. I danced with one of her friends.
One of her chatty friends
. They're all from Texas, and they all go to UTD. Our
alma mater
. Our old stomping ground. You
have
to ask her to dance. It's destiny, man."

"You're drunk, Salinas. Quit talking out your ass."

Joe stood up to his full six feet, straightened the cuffs on his shirt with careful deliberation and sniffed. "That hurts, Garza. I'm just trying to help you out here."

Sam shoved Joe back down onto his barstool. "Cut the crap, Salinas."

"I've got your back, pal." Joe picked up his glass and pointed it at Sam in emphasis. "Just want you to know; I've got your back."

"Yeah, well. Thanks." Sam swirled the ice cubes around in his drink.

He and Joe had been best friends since high school. They'd both attended the University of Texas at Dallas on scholarship, then parted ways when Sam had gone off to grad school. After graduation, Sam had moved to the Big Apple to work in the financial district, settling in to enjoy the whole
living-in-New York
experience. And even though many miles and many years had separated them, their friendship had endured.

Joe lowered his glass and his expression sobered. "Look, man. It's been six months since you came back home to look after your mom. And she's finally in remission, thank God. Last night, you took her out to celebrate with an expensive dinner at a fancy restaurant, which must have set you back a pretty penny. But no worries. You can certainly afford it."

"You got a point somewhere in there, Salinas?" Sam ignored the dig about the money. Yes, he was well off, set for life actually. He'd been extremely fortunate to make the big bucks while working in New York, and he'd saved quite a bit.

But money wasn
't everything.

"What I'm trying to get at is this," Joe continued. "Tonight, when I picked you up, I distinctly heard your mom tell you to go have a nice time. You deserve a nice time, dude."

Sam shrugged. "Maybe."

"There's no maybe about it." Joe punched his shoulder. "Your mom's lucky to have a son like you. You quit your high-profile job in New York to come back to Dallas to be with her. But now my friend, it's time for you to have a little fun. Go ask that blonde chick to dance."

Sam stared at the young woman on the dance floor. She moved to the music with a grace that had his body standing at alert. It had been a long time since he'd held a woman in his arms. In bed or on the dance floor. That had to be the reason he was having such a strong reaction to her. He picked up his drink and narrowed his eyes at his friend. "I don't see you asking anyone to dance."

"I'm waiting for you to find a partner, pal. Then I'm going back after your lady's chatty friend."

"She's not
my
lady."

"Yeah, yeah. Sell it some place else. I've seen you. She's the only one who's caught your attention. She's the only one you want." Joe jerked Sam to his feet and shoved him in the direction of the dance floor. "
Go!
"

"I'm going. Don't rush me." Sam stretched and rotated his neck, then resolutely marched over to the blonde and the cowboy, tapped the man on the shoulder and neatly cut in.

***

Tori McCade couldn't believe it when the hot guy who had been eyeing her all evening came striding across the room and cut in to dance with her as though it was his God-given right.

He hadn't given her a chance to say yes or no. He just cut in, cool as you please, whisked her away from her partner and twirled her around the crowded dance floor, guiding her right and left, deftly maneuvering them through the other dancers.

He held her in a steely grip, and she could feel the iron-hard muscles through the crisp blue material of his button-down shirt. The pocket sported an embroidered
SG
monogram, and his jeans displayed his powerful thighs to advantage. The man smelled heavenly. She couldn't help taking another deep breath to inhale more of his intoxicating scent.

When Tori exhaled, she looked up and encountered the darkest brown eyes she'd ever seen in her life. And they were lasered in on her with such intensity, she felt her cheeks heat up. She couldn't look away, but just gazed helplessly up at the handsome face.

They stared at each other in silence as they danced, Sam's eyes delving down to her very soul. A strong sensual hunger coiled low in her stomach. Her mouth felt dry and her hands damp. This was ridiculous. She had to do something, say something.

"So . . . what's the
SG
stand for?" she blurted out before she could help it.
Oh crap!
Why in the world had she said something so stupid?

The man smiled, and his white teeth gleamed in his dark sculpted face. Tori's breath shuddered in her lungs.
Oh my God
. The man was lethal for sure.

He dipped his head slightly, as if tipping a Stetson. "Sam Garza, at your service."

"
Don't I wish?
" Tori's eyes widened when the question popped out of her mouth. "Oh damn. Did I actually say that? Forget it. All the margaritas tonight must be making me loopy." Or maybe it was the man who had her blubbering like an idiot.

But damn, it was her birthday. Her
twenty-first
birthday. Hadn't she just blown out the candles on her cake a little while ago? Hadn't she made the wildest spur-of-the-moment wish of her life? And what do you know? Part of it had come true. Would the other part come true as well? She could only wait and see.

The man's low chuckle rumbled deep in his powerfully broad chest. He pulled her closer until her body was plastered against his. "Oh, babe," he said in a low gravelly voice. "You have no idea how much
I
wish."

Dear God in heaven. If he was feeling anything close to what she was feeling, then she had a
very
good idea. Her stomach somersaulted, and her lower body hummed.

From the moment she'd spotted him across the room, she'd been hyper-aware of the man. Tori had tried not to gawk, and she'd valiantly attempted to ignore his blatant stares. But she'd felt like the proverbial moth drawn to a flame. Time and again, her attention had returned to the man sitting at the bar.

On her way to the restrooms, she hadn't been able to resist walking past him for a closer look. When he'd lifted his glass to her on the way back to her table, she'd nearly melted in a puddle. He was sexy as sin in a dark exotic way. And he was older, more mature than the guys she usually hung around with.

The song ended and the band took a break, but instead of leading Tori off the dance floor, he just stood there, still holding her in his arms, staring down at her with a bemused expression on his face.

"And your name is?" he asked, studying her features closely.

Tori swallowed a lump in her throat and quickly licked her dry lips. She wiggled out of his exhilarating embrace and stuck out her hand, trying to diffuse the hormone-laden situation, trying for a lighter touch. "Victoria McCade. Tori for short. Nice to meet you, Sam Garza."

"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you." He took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips, placing a kiss on the underside of her delicate wrist. His lips were warm and damp on her sensitive flesh as he dragged them slowly across her skin.

Tori's breath hissed in a quick inhale, and she jerked her hand away. The intimate gesture caught her by surprise. "Thank you for the dance," she said, rubbing her wrist with her thumb. "I really need to get back to my table." She turned on her heel to make her getaway.

"Wait!" He clamped his hand around her arm, halting her abrupt departure. "What's the rush? Let me buy you a drink. It's your birthday, right?"

"
Well . . .
" Tori looked toward the table in the corner where her friends waited. They were all staring and grinning and giving her the thumbs up.

She groaned and Sam laughed. The sound reverberated inside and all around her. "See? Even your friends approve." He moved his large hand to the small of her back. "One drink, Miss Victoria. After that, I'll let you get back to your party."

"Sure. Okay." She narrowed her eyes at her friends, then allowed him to guide her toward the bar. The touch of his fingers burned through the filmy material of her dress. "But please call me Tori. No one calls me Victoria." Well, her mother did on occasion when she said or did something stupid or out of line.