Miss Greenhorn (12 page)

“Where is it?” he asked curtly.

“Somewhere near my left,” she said, trying not to move a muscle. “I'm afraid to look.”

“Sit still,” he murmured, moving into her line of view. “Just sit still. You're doing fine. Managed to find a rattler, did you? I suppose you were camped on the only available shade. That rock you're sitting on juts out to keep the sun away. Good girl, you're doing fine, Christy.”

She saw him move, his stride sure and deliberate. He was holding a rifle in the firing position, his eyes open and watchful as he moved slowly around in front of her. He looked like an old-time cowboy, she thought through her terror, with his Stetson pulled low over his eyes, wearing a Western-cut gray jacket and dark slacks. The snake was going to be sorry he'd tackled her now, she told herself. Nate was going to make a hatband out of the sneaky creature.

“Don't move, now. I see him.”

She clamped her teeth together, steeling herself for the report when he fired. She knew without being told that he was a dead shot. It was in his confident aim, in the steely glitter of his eyes as he sighted, in the way he stood and shouldered the rifle.

He fired once and the rattling stopped. Christy jumped up and ran to him, throwing herself into his arms, shivering all over.

The lean arm that wasn't holding the rifle hauled her closer, bruising in its ferocity. “God Almighty, that was close!” he said harshly. “Didn't you look before you sat down? Not that it would have mattered, anyway, because what could you see?” he added, his voice cutting. “That's the last damned straw. You come with me.”

He led her back to the Jeep, ignoring her questions, and put away the rifle. “She's all right,” he told the others, who were gathered around, concerned. “Just a rattler, but he didn't strike her. I'll run her back to the ranch.”

“I'm glad you're all right, Christy,” George said with relief.

“So am I,” she said, but she didn't get time to talk. Nate put her in the Jeep, got in beside her, and set new speed records for covering distance.

But he didn't stop at the ranch house. With his face hard and set, he screeched to a halt in front of her cabin and dragged her out of the Jeep to the door.

“Key,” he said.

She fumbled it out of her pocket and gave it to him, puzzled by his attitude. He hadn't said one word to her all the way back, and he looked odd.

He unlocked the door, threw it open, and drew her inside. He pushed her gently down into a chair and began to go through drawers, oblivious to her shocked protestations. Minutes later, he found what he was looking for. He turned, with her huge-rimmed glasses in his hand and stuck them none too gently over her eyes.

“Now wear the damned things,” he said shortly, glaring down at her with pure fury. “You little fool, you can't see five inches in front of you without those, can you? Did you think you could keep it up indefinitely? If you hadn't had good ears, you'd be in the hospital by now! Those rattlers are deadly.”

“I know that…” she began, aghast at having been found out. Now that she could see him properly, she was a little afraid of him. He looked far more formidable with the lines stark and hard in his lean face. His eyes were much darker than she'd first thought, and there was a hardness, a ruthlessness about his face that intimidated her. If she'd been able to see him properly, like this, that first day, she'd never have had the nerve to even smile at him. He looked what he was—a hard-bitten desert man with no time for idiot tenderfeet.

“No wonder you fell over everything in your path,” he muttered as he looked down at her. “If you don't want people to see you in specs, why don't you get contact lenses?”

“I tried,” she confessed wearily, pushing her glasses up on her nose when they began to slip—as usual. “I had one eye infection after another, because I was too haphazard to keep them antiseptically clean, so they said I couldn't wear them. It's this or go blind.” She looked at him mutinously. “I changed my whole image to come out here. The glasses spoiled it.”

“What's wrong with glasses?” he asked carelessly. “I think you look better with them on. They make your eyes look bigger. Much sexier,” he added with a grin.

Her green eyes widened. “Really?” she asked, forgetting her protests. He didn't think she looked awful!

“Really. Glasses aren't a cosmetic nuisance in your case, they're a necessity. Now keep them on. I don't want to lose you to a rattlesnake. I'm responsible for you.”

That took a little of the pleasure out of his interest. She hesitated, her eyes sweeping over his hard features with quiet pain.

“You don't believe that bull about glasses making you less desirable?” he persisted.

She shrugged. “Men never noticed me before.”

“I can understand that,” he replied easily. “You're shy and introverted and you probably dressed to hide your body. Now you've put it on display and had your hair done and learned to use makeup. Glasses don't have anything to do with the qualities that make you desirable, Christy.” He pulled her up against him and stood holding her, with his lean hands smoothing her bare arms in the white sleeveless top with the bulky yellow overblouse that kept her from burning in the sun. “Glasses or no, you're the sexiest woman I've ever known.”

“You're only saying that to make me feel better…!”

He caught the words in his mouth and breathed them back into her own. She gave in immediately, too hungry for his touch to fight it now. Her arms reached under his and around him beneath his jacket and she pressed close, delighting in his instant arousal, in the sudden crush of his mouth against hers.

“That's it,” he bit off. “Kiss me. Open your mouth. Yes. A little more. Don't hold back,” he murmured roughly as he bent and lifted her. “Harder, baby. Do it harder!”

She felt him put her on the bed, felt his weight as he joined her on its narrow surface. His mouth was doing impossibly arousing things to hers, and his body was hard and urgent as it pushed her into the mattress. She felt the force of his heartbeat against her breasts, inhaled the faint scent of his cologne until she was drunk on it, drunk on him. His mouth was minty and hard and warm, and she never wanted to be free of it. She lifted closer into his embrace, feeling him shudder in response.

But even as she yielded, he lifted his head and muttered a curse.

“My God, it's impossible,” he said huskily, sitting up as he struggled to catch his breath. His dark eyes swept over her prone body with possession and hunger, lingering on the thrust of her breasts under the low-cut white sleeveless top beneath her yellow overblouse. “We can't make love here. The damned bed's too flimsy for two people. It would fall through with us the first time we started moving back and forth on it.”

She blushed scarlet. He smiled down at her with a knowing look in his dark eyes that got worse when her reaction was so transparent.

“Does it bother you to hear such blunt descriptions of lovemaking, Christy?” he asked, leaning over her to nip her lower lip gently with his teeth.

“Do you enjoy embarrassing me?” she demanded.

“Indeed I do. It's a rare treat to watch a woman blush in this day and time.” He smoothed his hand blatantly over her breast, possessive demand in his touch while he gauged her helpless reaction. “You can't imagine how it feels, to watch you and know that what you're feeling is totally new.”

“I guess it makes you feel conceited,” she said defensively, embarrassed by his arrogance.

“No. It makes me feel proud.” He let his eyes fall to where his hand was caressing her. “It means everything to me, being your first lover.”

“But you aren't…”

His eyes went back up to hers. “I will be.” He held her gaze for one long, endless moment before he slowly got to his feet and helped her up. He held her against him gently, his breath in her hair. “Did you hear me, Christy?” he whispered. “I'm going to be your first man. When it happens, it's going to be me.”

“I'm marrying Harry,” she whispered miserably.

“I don't think so.” He drew her closer, sliding his hands to her hips and pulling them gently to his, letting her feel how aroused he was. “No, don't pull away from me,” he said against her ear. “This reaction is yours alone. You don't have to be afraid of it. I told you I wouldn't seduce you and I meant it.”

She relaxed finally and let him hold her. “I'm sorry about the snake,” she murmured. “I know I should have worn my glasses. I could hardly see the boulders, although close up, my vision is very good.”

He smoothed her hair gently in its disheveled bun. “You'll wear them from now on, do you hear me? I won't risk you twice. My God, when I saw that snake, I thought your number was up!”

“We both seem to be accident prone,” she said on a forced laugh. “First you get caved in and then I get rattled at.”

“We both need our heads examined.” He drew back, glancing down at her. “Want to take a shower and change before we leave for Tucson?”

“Yes, if you don't mind.”

“I don't mind.” His thin lips tugged into a wicked smile. “I could wash your back.”

She colored delicately. “No, you couldn't. I don't take showers with strange men.”

“I let you look at me,” he pointed out.

She glared at him. “Shame on you!”

He shrugged. “All right, be a prude. I'll have you out of your clothes one of these dark nights and under a sheet with me.”

“I won't let you,” she replied.

He tilted her chin up and brushed his mouth tenderly over hers. “Yes, you will. Have your bath. I'll be back in thirty minutes to get you.” He searched her wide, soft eyes. “Harry can't make you pregnant. I can. If you loved him, that wouldn't matter. But if you don't love him, you might give that point some thought before you make up your mind.”

She stiffened. “There's nothing to decide. He wants to marry me.”

“No, I don't think that's a good idea,” he said somberly. “He wouldn't enjoy raising my son as much as I would. Get your clothes changed, honey, I want to get an early start. We'll eat in town.”

“Nate!” she said, exasperated.

But he left her there, trying to make sense of what he'd said. She finally gave up and got into the shower, still completely in the dark. He didn't want to marry her and here he was talking about his son. Sexist, she thought, how did he know it wouldn't be a daughter?

Which was beside the point, because she wasn't making any children with him when she was going to marry Harry!

C
hristy didn't have a large selection of dresses with her, and she'd already worn two of them. The third, and last, was a soft pink synthetic with a full skirt and button-up bodice, a large collar and cap sleeves. It suited her coloring beautifully, and emphasized her delicate complexion. She wore a scarf with complimenting colors and left her hair long. She glared at the glasses, but she put them back on. If Nate thought she looked all right, she supposed that was all that mattered.

She started to wear sandals, but mindful of the sand, she put on some white pumps instead.

Nate was waiting outside the cabin, still wearing his gray suit. He smiled at the picture she made in her dress. He couldn't imagine how she'd remained single so long, even if she hadn't prettied herself up. She had a sweet, caring nature and so many good traits that her looks were just a fringe benefit—not the reason he liked her.

“Nice,” he pronounced, helping her into the car. “I hope you feel like Chinese food. I've got a yen for it tonight.”

“I love it,” she said. “Sweet and sour pork and egg rolls and hot mustard sauce! Yum!”

He chuckled. “My favorite, although I'm partial to pepper steak.”

“Did I even thank you for rescuing me from the snake?” she asked as they drove along. “I was so shaken up, I don't remember.”

“You aren't the only one. I was pretty shaken myself,” he admitted. He glanced toward her. “Rattlers can kill, even in this day and time. And even if they don't, it's a painful experience. I took a bite in the leg when I was in my teens. They barely got me to the doctor in time, and I spent three days in the hospital. Damned thing still swells at the same time I was bitten every year,” he chuckled. “They can't explain that, but it happens all the same.”

“No wonder it bothered you that I almost got bitten,” she murmured, thinking the memory would have resurfaced for him.

“It bothered me because I don't want anything to happen to you, Christy,” he said.

“Because I'm a guest on your property,” she nodded, understanding.

He scowled. “My God, do you believe that?” he asked angrily. “Hasn't it dawned on you yet that I was worried about
you
? It didn't have anything to do with your being a guest, or my old memories.”

“No, it didn't occur to me,” she said honestly. She smiled. “I'm not much to look at, even with my glad rags on…”

He muttered something violent under his breath and pulled off the road, into the privacy of the shade of a palo verde tree and stopped the car.

“I care about you.” He said it slowly, looking straight into her eyes. He watched her blush. “That's right. I care. I don't want to, and it's interfering with my life and all my notions of freedom, but there it is. I just haven't quite decided what to do about it yet.”

Her lips parted. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her heart was beating like a tom-tom deep in her chest, and the look in his eyes made her want to climb on top of the car and dance a jig.

“I'm glad. That you…like me, I mean,” she added shyly. She looked down at his chest, noticing its heavy rise and fall. “I'm still sorry that I gave you the wrong impression at first.”