Rocky Mountain Miracle (4 page)

He took a long, slow pull of his beer, never taking his gaze from her. The band was finishing their set. He knew
their music now, knew Maia's habits. He also knew she was very aware of his reputation, both as a lady's man and as a dangerous felon. She didn't like gossip, probably because so many people gossiped about her, and he was fairly certain she wouldn't make a scene when he made his move on her. He calculated the odds, just like he calculated everything in his life.

The drum built to a crashing crescendo, and Maia set her sticks aside and swept back stray tendrils of hair that had escaped from her intricate braid. Her skin was damp, glowing, her smile satisfied. She'd liked the way the music sounded, and it showed in her expression. Maia was never closed off to the world the way he was, and Cole found even that intriguing. He had positioned himself perfectly, making it impossible for her to get to the bar without walking past his table.

Cole caught her wrist as she swept by him, pretending, as she did each night, not to notice him. He shifted in his chair so that she was suddenly wedged between his outstretched legs, imprisoning her. “Have a drink with me.”

Maia could hear her own heart thundering in her ears. Up close he was overpowering. He looked all male, his blue eyes dark with a desire he didn't try to hide from her. In fact, he wore his sensuality easily, with complete confidence, a devil in blue jeans and sin in his heated gaze. She knew the rumors. She knew what the town suspected Cole of doing. Murder. He'd been in jail. There was a tattoo on his upper arm, which he'd obviously gotten in jail and didn't bother to try to hide. His body was hard and fit; but sometimes, when he didn't think anyone was watching, she saw something sad and tragic in his unguarded expression. And that was truly dangerous.

The last thing she wanted to do was to add to the rumors flying around him. She couldn't imagine how difficult it was to be the favorite subject of the town's most malicious gossips. He couldn't possibly have done a third of the evil deeds attributed to him. Maia patted his dark head, a deliberate show of camaraderie for the patrons in the bar. At the same time, she wanted to let him know, very politely, that she wasn't playing his game. She leaned close to him, put her lips against his ear. “The lady sitting on the barstool to your right is devouring you with her eyes. You have an easy score right there to take care of any urgent . . . er . . . needs you may have.”

Cole felt her warm breath against his ear, the whisper of her lips against his skin. When she leaned into him he inhaled the scent of her. Peaches and rain could be very intoxicating. His fingers around her wrist kept her connected to him. “I want you to have a drink with me.” His voice was huskier than he intended, and her close proximity had more of an effect on him than he'd anticipated. His heart pounded, and he could feel his blood surging hotly through his veins.

Maia sucked in her breath sharply. Cole Steele was used to giving orders, used to having them obeyed, and he certainly knew his effect on women. His voice was almost mesmerizing. She could feel the hard column of his thighs pressing against her legs, as his thumb stroked over her bare skin where he held her arm.

Maia tugged a little on her wrist, not making it obvious to the curious onlookers. “I don't think that's a good idea.” She smiled to take the sting out of her refusal.

“You never told me your name.”

“You know my name.” Mentally she kicked herself. She
was engaging with him when it was the last thing she should be doing. How in the world did the man manage to be so potent? He was the most sensual man she'd ever encountered. Her hormones were already in overdrive, just as they'd been for the last few days. And, of course, it had to be for the resident bad boy.

“What is it going to hurt to sit at my table and have a beer with me?”

“Because that isn't what you want from me. Let go.” She stood waiting, looking down into his brilliant eyes. Cold eyes. Eyes that had seen things no one should ever witness. Maia sighed, trying desperately not to see those things, not to see or feel or react to the pain swirling so deep in their vivid blue depths. “Please.”

Cole removed his hand instantly. Maia made herself walk when she wanted to run. Her heart was beating too fast. He was frightening in his intensity, and she was very susceptible to the man he hid behind his remote mask. She knew a hurt creature when she saw one. Man or animal, her entire being reacted to them. Cole Steele was one of those creatures, and he was just too darned dangerous for her to get involved with.

“Sounded great tonight,” Ed Logan, the bartender said in greeting. He pushed a frosted glass toward her and leaned close, lowering his voice. “Keep away from him, Maia. He's bad news.”

She tilted the glass, savoring the ice-cold water as it went down her throat. Her gaze strayed toward Cole Steele. His gaze was on her. Hot. Intense. Drifting over her body possessively. She turned her back on him, leaning against the bar. Immediately she was all too aware that her movement left Cole staring at her bottom, encased in
tight jeans. It was all she could do not to shift positions immediately. “I have no idea what you're going on about, Ed.”

“He's got a look about him. He's on the hunt for a woman, and it's rather obvious he has his sights set on you. You don't play with a man like that and win.”

“You're such a sweetheart, Ed. I'd marry you myself if you weren't already taken. You can stop worrying. Cole Steele is so far out of my league that I don't even want to play. He'll settle his sights elsewhere fast enough. He'll get bored and move on to greener pastures.”

“Just so you know to be careful. People are saying bad things about him. Most probably aren't true, but I know men, and he's dangerous.”

“At least to women,” she agreed. “Seriously, Ed, I can look after myself.”

“He made a whole lot of enemies in this town when he came in five months ago and fired the crew that was working out at the ranch. Times are hard and in the winter everyone needs work. No one knows why he did it, and he isn't saying, but there's hard feelings.”

“A man doesn't fire everyone without a reason, Ed,” Maia pointed out. “Especially not a rancher with a spread the size of his. He needs them. Maybe a few head of cattle were missing. It happens all the time.”

Ed shrugged his shoulders and picked up an empty whiskey glass, dismissing the subject of Cole Steele. “Loretta said to tell you to drop by anytime. And if you don't have plans for Christmas dinner, you're invited to that as well.”

“You tell her thank you. Lucky you to have her.”

Ed nodded. “I can't get over you managing to save that
dog of hers. She loves that mutt, and I was certain there was no hope after the car hit it, but you pulled it off.”

Maia patted his hand. It hadn't been Loretta who fell apart when the little Jack Russell terrier had darted out in front of a car. Big Ed had been sobbing so hard he couldn't speak when he and Loretta had brought the dog to her.

She turned away and immediately felt the impact of Cole Steele's piercing gaze. It should have made her cold, but she felt heat spreading dangerously to every part of her body. She braced herself to get past him a second time. The jukebox was playing, and a few couples were swaying on the dance floor to a sultry love song. It might be more prudent to cut across the dance floor, but doing so would brand her a coward in her own eyes. Or maybe she was feeling reckless.

He stood up, a lithe, male movement of grace and sheer power, blocking her path. Cole towered over her. With his wide shoulders and muscular body, he made her feel intensely feminine. His hands found her wrists, his grip firm, but not hurting her as he drew her arms around his neck, fitting her body tightly against his hard, masculine frame. His arms caged hers, his thighs pressing against her until she was forced to walk backward to the dance floor. Immediately she was engulfed in flames, a wrenching desire spreading through her body and making her weak with need. His heavy erection was pressed tightly, unashamedly, against her stomach, spreading flames over her skin.

She said nothing. She refused to cause a scene by fighting him publicly, and in any case, she'd definitely wanted this. She wasn't a child who lied to herself. She'd deliberately chosen to walk past him to give him
another opportunity to claim her. She closed her eyes and drifted with him on a tide of sexual awareness, on arousal, on heat and flames and lust all mixed together. It was a unique experience for her. Maia felt her body melting into his.

Cole bent his head to the invitation of her bare neck. With her hair braided, it left her vulnerable to the brush of his mouth against her pulse. She fit perfectly in his arms, as if she'd been made for him. He felt the urgent demands of his body, but more than that, there was an unfamiliar longing that rose and lodged deep where he knew he wasn't going to be able to remove it easily. Maia Armstrong left her brand on him, and he hadn't even made love to her. Or maybe he was; he'd never actually made love to a woman before, and maybe that was what he was doing.

She stole his breath. Took his animal hunger and turned it into something altogether different. Cole's arms tightened around Maia, urging her body even closer to his, wanting to imprint her into his bones. He had come to her to rid himself of demons for a night or two, but with her body fitting into his, something was softening inside of him, and for the first time since his childhood, Cole was terrified. He wanted to let her go and walk away, to be safe in his isolated world; but he couldn't let go of her warmth or the promise of magic in the curves of her body pressed so tightly to him.

Cole became aware that the last notes of the song were fading away. He was completely confident when it came to women. He was a highly sensual man and knew how to make a woman need him. It always came easy to him. “I want to go home with you,” he said shamelessly.

Maia pulled out of his arms, refusing the stark hunger
and dark intensity that drew other women to him so easily. She flashed her powerful smile, the one he felt all the way down to his stone-cold heart.

“Pheromones are nasty little devils, aren't they?” Maia asked. “They strike at the most inopportune times.”

He couldn't let her go. He saw it in her eyes that she was just going to turn and walk away from him. “Then come to the ranch with me.” Was that really bad boy Cole Steele acting desperate? What the hell was wrong with him? He should go straight to the woman at the end of the bar who was devouring him with her eyes and walk out with her. It would serve Maia right. He knew she wanted him. She couldn't hide her reaction to him.

“You're afraid of me,” he taunted her.

“Do I look stupid to you?” She stepped back cautiously, making certain she could walk without trembling. “Any woman with half a brain would be afraid of you. You have trouble stamped on your forehead and packaged not so subtly there in the front.”

“Nice of you to notice, since you're the one causing the trouble.” He made it a challenge.

“Nice to know I can,” she replied, in no way perturbed by the accusation. “Go away, Mr. Steele. You're way out of my league.”

The jukebox music shifted into another moody, sensual song, and Cole reached out to pull her back into his arms. “What puts me out of your league?”

She tilted her head to look up at him, which was a major mistake. His eyes were such a deep blue, almost metallic, and he looked at her with dark desire. With hunger. With possession and determination. There was a ruthless edge to his mouth and a need in the depths of his
gaze she couldn't avoid. Her breath left her lungs in a rush. “Everything. Money. Experience. Life. I don't want to get singed, let alone burned. You come with far too high a price tag.”

His eyes were locked on hers, and she couldn't break away, held captive in spite of her resolve. It was the fleeting glimpse of the hurt animal, the shadows of pain and betrayal he hid behind his cool, icy demeanor that kept her from walking off the dance floor. She slipped her arms around his neck and allowed her body to sink into the heat of his.

His chin rubbed the top of her head. “All this time I was thinking you were the one with the high price tag.”

“You probably think all women come with price tags,” she muttered against his chest. She turned her head to lay her ear over his heart.

“Don't they?” he asked. “Usually it isn't all that difficult, but you, lady, present a problem.”

Maia listened to the steady rhythm of his heart. “I refuse to be a problem for you. You're the one insisting on dancing with me. I told you no.”

“I didn't hear you say no.”

“Really?” She smiled against his shirt. “I could have sworn the entire room heard me. I thought I was very emphatic about it.”

“No, you definitely didn't say no.”

“Well, I should have. My guard must have been down.” She laughed softly, and the sound played right through his body.

“You're dangerous.”

“Funny. That's what everyone says about you,” Maia said.

Cole bent his head once more to the temptation of her bare neck. She was warm satin. He tasted her, teased her earlobe with his teeth. Before she could protest his action he lifted his head to distract her. “Why did you stick up for me in the diner the other day?” he asked. “Everyone believes I killed the old man. Why don't you?”

Maia shivered, tried to pull her suddenly scattered defenses back around her. His mouth had sent small flames licking over her skin. “You were cleared as a suspect. It's all they talk about sometimes, and it gets annoying. You were a thousand miles away when your father was murdered, but they want to believe you did it.” She burrowed closer to the warmth of his heart without realizing she was doing it. “You inherited all that money and the ranch after you left home and turned your back on your father. And then you dared to fire everyone. It's human nature I guess. They want you to be guilty. And it gives them someone to talk about.”