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Authors: Melody Anne

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BOOK: Hidden Treasure
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Chapter Seven

H
ello, Colt. Looking
for something?”

Damn. Damn. Damn. It was just getting good.
Colt wasn’t happy to release a now horrified Brielle, but the viselike grip he’d had around her waist loosened and she scrambled to her feet as if he were a teeming anthill.

“Morning, Peggy,” he said, not bothering to get up quite yet. Instead, he flipped his hands behind his head and grinned up at the shop’s owner as she scowled down at him.

“This store isn’t your personal brothel, Colt.” One foot was tapping while she rested her hands on her ample hips.

“Aw, Peggy, I just got carried away. What else was I supposed to do when a hot little number like Brielle comes hurtling through your doors and literally knocks me off my feet?” he asked, amping up the wattage on his killer smile.

“When that happens, what you
should
do is help the lady back up on her feet and then do some shopping — a
lot
of shopping.”

“That’s what we’re planning on doing, darlin’. And as you can see, she had no problem getting up all on her own.” Okay, it was probably time to get up off the floor.

The store wasn’t huge, but somehow Brielle had managed to disappear, and he figured it was about time to find her. Sparks were flying between them, and though he knew it wasn’t a good idea to pursue the enemy, he couldn’t seem to talk himself out of it. Ms. Storm intrigued him.

That hoity-toity image she’d assumed and wanted him to think she was all about had to be a smoke screen, because the kiss she’d just given back to him was about as hot as it got. There were some serious fireworks hidden inside Brielle, and she’d just ignited his curiosity — and that wasn’t all she’d ignited. The home fires were burning.

Halfway to the back of the store, where the women’s clothing was located, Colt got distracted by a rack holding new merchandise. He could use a few more shirts. Having no qualms about stripping in the store, he began unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing, pulled it from his broad shoulders, and flung it over a chair.

He didn’t notice Brielle stopping in her tracks as she came around a clothing rack and focused in on his obscenely toned abs. Working on the land day and night had done delectable things for his body, and Brielle was openmouthed and wide-eyed, with her gaze locked in tight on his midsection.

When Colt turned and saw the look she was sending his way, he stopped what he was doing, which left him standing there with one sleeve of the shirt on and one not, and with his bare chest on display for anyone who happened to stroll into the store.

After a few tense seconds, Colt broke out into a grin, looked down at her luscious pink lips, and took a step toward her. That startled her enough to make eye contact with him.
Perfect
.

“Enjoying the view, Princess?” he asked with an exaggerated drawl.

“Just trying to figure out if you’re as arrogant as you act. I guess you are.”

Colt might have been offended, but that look in her eyes was pure fire. He’d seen it before, so he wasn’t fooled — not at all. She wanted him, and if he put in the slightest bit of effort, he had no doubt that she’d be his. Colt just had to choose whether he wanted to make that happen or not.

He decided right then and there that he was going to find out.

A plan in place, Colt slid the shirt the rest of the way on and buttoned it up, then turned to find the mirror. “Nice color. Pull the tag, Peggy. I’ll wear this one home.”

“You’re going to need to buy a few more things before you’re forgiven for your previous display, Colt Westbrook!” But Peggy was already thawing as she moved toward Brielle. There was nothing Peggy liked more than to outfit a pretty lady — and Brielle was certainly that.

Colt couldn’t wait to see what the newcomer looked like in some cowgirl wear. Shopping wasn’t one of his favorite pastimes, but playing hooky from his ranch for an afternoon was probably worth it in this case.

“Come on, honey,” Peggy said, taking Brielle’s arm. “Let’s find you some real clothes. I don’t know where you did your shopping before now, but those clothes, and especially those shoes, will land you with nothing but a broken ankle on top of a bad sunburn.” Now that Peggy wasn’t distracted by Colt, she went back into merchant mode.

Brielle turned toward Colt with a look of panic in her eyes, but he just tipped his hat and smiled. He’d been the enemy just a few seconds earlier, but now the woman was looking to him to save her.

This was one mission he didn’t want to rescue her from. He wanted to see her all dressed up and ready to ranch. Not that he had any faith that the clothes would suddenly change her, make her an instant cowgirl. But in the space of a few minutes, he was thinking that city girls might not be so bad after all.

No. He had no business thinking that. Sure, he might want to play with the city girl, but at the end of the day he wanted her long gone from his neck of the woods — far away, with only memories left from her stay in Montana.

She was on his land, dammit, and he would get it back. No matter what it took, he was going to have her on the first plane out of Sterling that he possibly could. Still, the two of them might just have to play a little bit before that one-way flight.

Taking his time about it, he found her and Peggy at a rack of Wrangler jeans. “I think these will be a perfect fit,” Peggy was saying as she pulled out a pair that looked as if they would be show Brielle’s fine ass to perfection.

He joined the conversation enthusiastically. “I agree.”

“Colt may act like an ass,” Peggy said, echoing one word of his thoughts, “but he does have good taste when it comes to clothing. You should listen to him.” Her sugary-sweet sales voice had Colt in yet another of his patented grins.

Brielle’s enthusiasm didn’t match Colt’s.

She was soon being pushed from one rack of clothes to the next, and her arms were laden with things she knew she’d never wear again after she left this benighted place. She didn’t want to even think about the money she was about to spend on clothes that she would have scoffed at before today. Heck, she was
still
scoffing today.

When she finally made it to the changing room and slipped into a pair of the jeans and a button-down shirt, she felt itchy and uncomfortable. She was used to silk and cashmere, not cotton and polyester. She’d never get used to this new life. But if she wanted to earn the respect of the men working for her, she needed to fit in to their world a little better.

Even if it would kill her budget. She hoped her father would mellow out before too much longer, and maybe, just maybe, let her have access to her trust fund again. Maybe she’d better quit ignoring his calls if she hoped for that to happen. This shopping trip wouldn’t make the slightest dent in the money she had sitting in her frozen bank account.

Just the thought of her old platinum credit card made her want to cry. There was a time she hadn’t had to think about the cost of anything. Now, a fifty-dollar pair of jeans was making her break out in a sweat.

One thing she was learning from all of this was that she should be a lot more grateful for what she’d had. Not everyone lived the way she used to live, and not everyone was just handed everything. But that was probably one of the lessons her father wanted to teach her and her brothers.

Slipping into the boots that Colt had picked out for her, she looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror and grimaced to see herself in such an outfit. No way could she pull this off. She just wasn’t made to be a ranch girl. She was made to live in the city in a nice safe condo where someone else did the yard work. That was just who she was. The sooner everyone in her life accepted that, the sooner she could get back to the real world. Her real world.

“Come out, Brielle,” Colt said. “I know it can’t take that long to change, not even for a princess.”

She glared at the curtain separating her from Colt, but she had no doubt he would barge in on her if she didn’t comply. The sad thing was that the thought of him sharing the small dressing room with her wasn’t as horrifying as it should have been, not after that burning kiss. She feared she’d be replaying that several nights in a row in her dreams.

“I’m coming. Keep your pants on.” She pulled the curtain back and stepped out. “I don’t see how you people can deal with these clothes. My toes feel as if they’re being crushed.” She twirled around as a joke. This wasn’t a fashion show she’d ever thought she’d participate in — that was for damn sure.

Colt stepped up behind her when her twirl left her back facing him. His hands slid around the curve of her hips and his thumbs settled in her front pockets as he turned their bodies so he could look into her light green eyes through the full-length mirror.

“I think you look pretty damn hot in this outfit,” he whispered against her ear, letting his lips brush the tender flesh of her neck as he bent just a little lower. “And these jeans have the added advantage of being the perfect resting place for a man’s hands.” He let his fingertips graze the top of her thighs.

Where was Peggy when Brielle needed someone to run interference? The shopkeeper had suddenly disappeared, and no one else seemed to be in the store. Gulping, Brielle knew she was in trouble, because she couldn’t find one single comeback to Colt’s lines.

She remained motionless as he kept pressing against her. What this man was doing to her body should be against the law. If someone had told her last year that she’d be melting into a giant puddle over a ranch hand, she would have given out a ladylike guffaw. Right now, however, she didn’t feel in the least like laughing.

When he finally let her go, she walked almost in a trance back into the changing room, pulled the curtain back into place, slowly unbuttoned the shirt, and let it float to the floor. Then she just stood there looking into the mirror at her flushed cheeks.

This man was clearly making her appearance change. If the glow in her eyes had anything to do with something other than Colt Westbrook, she didn’t know what it could be. It certainly wasn’t the crisp Montana air.

When the curtain parted and Colt was suddenly standing behind her again, Brielle didn’t even try to act as if she didn’t want him there. Since that first kiss on the shop floor, she’d been waiting for the next.

To hell with what she
should
be doing. She wanted to taste him again, wanted to feel the lightning flash across her skin. No, she wasn’t a virgin, but she couldn’t ever recall wanting a man so badly. It wasn’t as if she’d been with a dozen men — only two, in fact. But she had a rising suspicion that Colt was going to be the third.

That thought should have caused her some anxiety, but as she turned and his arms wrapped around her, all she could feel were burning embers traveling to her core.

“You are a devil in disguise,” Colt murmured, and took her mouth in a kiss that was far from gentle.

Chapter Eight

W
hen she emerged
from the changing room, Brielle knew she looked as if she’d just had sex. They hadn’t — of course not! — but she wasn’t a fool. Her hair was mussed, her lips red and swollen, and that certainly wasn’t cosmetic blusher on her cheeks.

No. Sadly enough, a man hadn’t been able to put this sort of glow in her face in too long to remember. Maybe ever, actually. She was used to being with controlled men, men who asked permission before they kissed her.

She’d thought that was what she wanted. But apparently she’d been a bit wrong, because right now all she could think about was darting back into that changing room, ripping Colt’s clothes off, and finishing what the two of them had started.

Closing her eyes, she ran through the past ten minutes again and again in her head. The feel of his strong hands moving slowly up and down her back, the way his lips had parted hers, and how his tongue had slipped inside her mouth.

When he’d gripped her backside and lifted her up against him, she’d nearly come right then and there just from feeling his hardness. This man was lethal, but she couldn’t seem to tell herself to back away.

She wanted to be with him, wanted to have his hands all over her, and wanted to keep tasting his kisses. She wanted a lot more from Colt Westbrook. Why even try to run?

This would stop, she assured herself. She just needed some air. When she looked up, grateful he was giving her five feet of space, she found her eyes fastening on a set of three elderly ladies who were slack-jawed and sparkly-eyed.

“I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting, darling,” one of the women said as they all stepped forward. “I’m Bethel, and these two women here are my friends, Eileen and Maggie.” She pointed first to one and then the other.

Brielle was at a loss for words for a few seconds as she struggled to switch off her lustful thoughts and focus on the women in front of her. She had best get used to strangers introducing themselves in this town, because it seemed that no one was looked at as a stranger here.

She accepted the hand that Bethel was holding out and said, “I’m Brielle Storm.”

“Ah. You’re the new owner at the Ponderosa Pines Ranch,” Bethel said, and the other two women nodded knowingly.

“So, we see you’re here with Colt,” one of the other women said — was it Eileen or Maggie? Damn! — and the smile she sent Brielle’s way started to make her really nervous. She didn’t know why, but it seemed as if these women were analyzing her, maybe planning something, something she was sure she wanted no part of. Shifting on her feet, she tried to figure out the best escape route possible, but there seemed to be nowhere to run.

“Yes, he brought me here to get some work clothes. I…um…wasn’t quite prepared for the ranch,” Brielle admitted, amazed when she felt her cheeks redden even more.

She was a Storm, and at one time even the mention of her name had brought a reverent silence. Money talked. But she didn’t have any now, and there was no sign of either reverence or silence from the three women standing before her.

“Ladies, are you giving Brielle a hard time?”

Suddenly, Colt was standing next to her, his arm slung across her back. Of course, the three women’s eyes zeroed in on the protective gesture. Brielle tried to squirm away, but he was strong
and
determined, and without doing some all-too-obvious twisting, she wasn’t going to escape his hold.

“Not at all, Colt. We were just introducing ourselves. Martin’s over at the café and he said the two of you came in here about an hour ago,” Eileen said with a sly smile. “We were just wondering why picking out a few items of clothing was taking so long.”

“And now we know,” Maggie said, offering her own sly glance at Colt’s hand, which was resting just above Brielle’s hip.

As if finally getting clued in to what these women were up to, and where their eyes were, he untangled himself from Brielle and put a good three feet of space between them.

“Brielle didn’t have proper clothes for riding or ranching. We’ve just been shopping.” Colt’s cheeks seemed to gain instant color to match Brielle’s.

“That’s not what we’ve been hearing. Peggy said you were assisting Brielle in the changing room,” Bethel said.

Brielle was mortified to discover that people had been paying attention. Peggy hadn’t been anywhere in sight when Colt had slipped in there with her. But
of course
the woman knew what was happening in her own store. What had Brielle been thinking when she allowed that make-out session to go on in such a public place? Okay, maybe she wasn’t all that surprised at what she’d done. And she couldn’t regret it altogether. His kisses were
that
good.

She was, however, more than a little uncomfortable now that she was being examined under a high-powered microscope. Were these women finding her seriously lacking? They probably didn’t think her good enough for one of their own small-town cowboys.

That thought stung, though it shouldn’t have. She knew who she was and what she was worth. But that was just it. She didn’t really know who she was. She knew she was a Storm, but that didn’t mean anything anymore, and certainly nothing in this town. She felt as if she were floating on a cloud and she just didn’t know when it was going to start dropping rain, leaving a big hole for her to fall through.

“We don’t want to be a bother,” Maggie said. “We just wanted to meet Brielle and see what you’ve been up to, Colt. It seems you’ve been avoiding us lately.”

“Why would I ever avoid you three beautiful women?”

“Oh, don’t even try that on us, Colt Westbrook,” Bethel told him. “Or that ridiculous smile. We’re not some dumb young girls who can be fooled by your charm. If your mama was still alive, she’d be crying in her favorite front-porch rocking chair right about now, complaining about what a playboy you’ve become.”

“My mama raised me right, ladies,” he said, tipping his hat and looking around for a way out. When the doorbell rang and a man walked in, Colt’s face filled with relief. “I would love to keep chatting, but I need to speak to Hawk.” And he made a beeline for him, a man who didn’t know the minefield he was stepping into.

The new arrival made Brielle’s jaw drop. “Do they grow them all to be tall, dark and handsome here?” she couldn’t help asking.

“I think it’s something in the water,” Bethel replied with a laugh.

“Nah, it’s the sweet-corn whiskey,” Eileen argued.

“That’s my son, Hawk. He’s the local fire chief,” Maggie said, beaming. “It’s too bad Colt has already laid claim to you…”

For the zillionth time in the last hour, Brielle felt her cheeks grow warm. And then, to Brielle’s absolute horror, the two men began walking their way. She could barely form coherent sentences around Colt, let alone try to hold a conversation with
two
such hunks. Hell, she now lived on a cattle ranch; why not just call them beefcakes?

“Good afternoon, Mom.” Hawk leaned down and kissed Maggie on the cheek.

“Hello, son. How did that last call go?” she asked, giving him a quick hug.

Brielle was completely out of her element. The two seemed to have genuine affection for each other. Her family didn’t do hugs or kisses anymore. At one time they had, though — a long time ago.

“It was fine. Rick just hit a deer and messed up his truck’s bumper. The deer had to be put down, but you know that happens too often,” Hawk said.

“I know it does, Hawk, but it’s still unpleasant.”

Hawk nodded before turning Brielle’s way. “Who’s this beautiful woman with you, Mom?” he asked with a winning smile.

It was bright enough to make Brielle want to take a step backward. Or forward — she wasn’t sure.

“This is Brielle,” Colt said, stepping up beside her once again and wrapping his arm back around her. It seemed his fear of the meddling women was overruled by his desire to put his brand on Brielle before Hawk had a chance to get interested.

Not that Brielle realized that.

“Ah…I see,” Hawk said with a laugh. “Too bad,” he added with a wink at Brielle. “I’m Hawk. If your place is ever on fire, make sure and give me a call.”

“Yeah, we’ll do that,” Colt practically growled.

Hawk laughed with delight. “It was nice having you in the pack for as long as we did, brother.”

“I’m still in the pack, Hawk.”

“Doesn’t look like it to me.”

“What pack?” Brielle asked. She was grateful to have found her voice.

Before Colt could stop Hawk from speaking, the man opened his mouth. “The single men’s solidarity group,” he said with another chuckle. “I’d better grab my jeans and go.” He reached out, took Brielle’s hand, lifted it to his mouth, and he planted a kiss. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Brielle.”

Hawk headed to the counter and grabbed the package that was waiting for him, and then just as quickly as he had come in to the store, he was gone again.

“Yes, too bad,” Maggie said with a sigh as she watched the front door close. “I can’t wait for him to settle down.”

“We really need to pay for our things and get going,” Colt said grumpily.

“Of course, sweetie. We wouldn’t dream of holding you up,” Bethel said as she leaned in and kissed Brielle’s cheek. “It was so great to meet you, dear. I’ll be sure to have you over for lunch before too long.”

The two other women also kissed her, and they repeated the sentiment, then left the store without buying a single thing.

“Did they come over here just to meet me?” Brielle asked.

“Yeah, they did. We’d better get out of here before the entire town comes in,” Colt replied, and his tone indicated irritation.

Why was he was in such a foul mood all of a sudden? Brielle had no idea, but it wasn’t her place to ask. When they approached the register, Brielle pulled out her bank card — a mere gold card with a laughably low limit — except she wasn’t laughing. Yep, the purchase would hurt, but at least she now had boots and could ride a horse. Or could she? She still wasn’t going to admit that she’d never done it before.

BOOK: Hidden Treasure
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