The Bachelor’s Surrender (9 page)

Rafe tipped his hat back on his head, regarding her speculatively. “I have to say, what you do is incredibly selfless, but
how
do you do it? I mean, doesn’t it get expensive granting all these wishes?”

Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “I can afford it,” she assured him with a smile. “Bright Beginnings was set-up with a substantial trust fund that was endowed to me by my grandmother two years ago, when I turned twenty-five. I’m an only child, and I was her only grandchild, so she was quite generous in that regard. I’m putting the money toward a good cause, and I’d like to think that if she were still alive, she’d approve of what I do.”

Unlike Lauren’s mother, who felt she was being frivolous with her money. Despite her mother’s objections to how she’d invested her trust fund, Lauren didn’t regret her decision to originate Bright Beginnings. The foundation brought her as much pleasure as working with the children.

She exhaled on a long sigh the breeze carried away. “One day, I hope to do more for these underprivileged kids.”

He cocked his head inquisitively, looking handsome, and very likeable. “Like what?”

“Something on a grander scale possibly, like a camp, or even purchase land for horseback riding adventures,” she said, unable to contain the excitement infusing her voice. “Something fun that would give these foster kids a start in the right direction.”

He digested that, but there was a more prying light in his gaze. “You come from money, then?”

There was no censure in his deep voice, just a mild hunch he openly expressed. “My parents are wealthy, yes, but I like to think I’ve made it on my own, without their financial support. I earn my own paycheck, I financed my own car, and I pay my own rent in an apartment I share with my roommate, Amy. Everything I own I’ve bought with money I’ve earned.”

Begrudging respect flitted across his expression. “And your parents, what do they do?”

“My father is a criminal lawyer with his own firm, and my mother
works
real hard at trying to find me a suitable husband.” She’d used a humorous tone of voice, but the burden of her mother’s interference in her love life was no joke.

Rafe blinked lazily, and as if seeing past her attempt at levity, asked, “Don’t you want to get married?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she said without a moment’s hesitation. “But with a man of my own choosing.”

His smoky gaze flickered down the length of her, taking a slow, leisurely journey that kindled little brush fires of awareness beneath her skin and tightened the tips of her breasts. By the time his eyes returned to hers, her heart beat an unsteady rhythm against her chest.

“I would think you’d have hordes of suitors to pick from,” he murmured, his tone velvet-smooth and very distracting.

Struggling not to let Rafe know how strongly he affected her, all with just a look and that rough-and-sexy voice of his, she returned her attention to Chad. The young boy had dismounted Bronwyn and was plucking wildflowers from a patch of bright, colorful blooms blowing in the breeze. A small, pleased smile touched the corner of her mouth, and she experienced relief that the foster care system hadn’t jaded Chad’s sensitive, giving nature . . . yet. The years ahead would take their toll, she knew.

“I’ve dated,” she admitted to Rafe, guessing by the stall in conversation that he expected an answer to his previous comment. “But I’m holding out for something no one has sparked yet.”

“And what’s that?” he drawled.

She took a deep breath and admitted, “Love.”

A mocking light entered his storm-gray eyes. “You believe in fairy tales, huh?”

Irritation bristled up her spine. “Is it so wrong to believe that love exists and to hold out for it?” Her question was direct, and certainly a challenge for this cynical hero who believed he didn’t need anyone.

“No, I suppose not,” he admitted gruffly, not looking at her.

“I guess I want that fairy tale so badly because I don’t want the kind of relationship my parents have,” she explained softly.

That confession surprised him, bringing his head back around. His confusion was evident. “Which is?”

That same old sadness tugged at her when she thought of her parent’s situation, along with determination not to repeat their mistake. “A marriage of convenience.”

He lifted a dark brow, unable to conceal the intrigue that leapt into his gaze.

She explained. “They got married because my mother was pregnant with me, and though they’re still together, they live separate lives. I want a marriage based on respect and common interest. Is it so wrong to want love, and a man who respects what I do?”

“No,” he said quietly, and with more kindness and compassion than he’d shown her thus far. “No, there’s nothing wrong with that at all.”

She dragged her fingers through her hair, feeling a twinge of frustration over her mother’s meddling, and her own ideals of a husband she’d yet to encounter. “The combination hasn’t been an easy one to find, especially when my mother keeps foisting these pompous, arrogant men on me, all who want a trophy wife and trained hostess more than an equal partner in marriage.”

She visibly shuddered to lighten the moment, and saw his mouth twitch. When he realized what almost happened, he scrubbed a hand along his jaw, wiping away the amused expression that nearly dared to grace his face.

Vast disappointment coursed through Lauren. At the moment, she would have offered her entire trust account to see those full lips of his curve into a warm, engaging smile. Or to hear a rich, deep chuckle rumble up from his chest. She knew he had it in him, under lock and key, no doubt.

Grouchy, grumpy, gorgeous cowboy!

“So, what about you, Rafe?” she asked, eyeing him casually, more than ready to put a few wrinkles in that staid composure of his. “You ever been married?”

Rafe’s entire body tensed at her personal query, and he fought in vain to maintain a bland expression. “Nope.”

“Close to it, maybe?” she wheedled.

Damn, the woman was nosey, and pushy. “Nope. Never.” He’d had a few relationships over the years while traveling the circuit, but none of them had developed beyond a flirtatious fling, which had been his way. And after the accident, well, there wasn’t a woman around who deserved to be saddled with an S.O.B. like himself. He knew that, accepted it, and lived with it.

She frowned up at him, her bluer-than-the-sky-above eyes twinkling with too much mischief. “Don’t you want a wife, and a half dozen kids to fill up this big ranch of yours?”

Inadequacies and fears swamped him, making that particular wish an impossibility. “Nope.”

“Aw, come on,” she said, gently nudging his arm with her own, the brush of her skin against his electrifying his nerves. “I find that hard to believe. Doesn’t it ever get lonely living out here all by yourself?”

All the time
. His belly clenched at the unexpected realization. “I like the way my life is,” he said, wondering if he was trying to convince her, or himself of that fact.

“Isolated and alone?” she offered impudently.

Anger flashed through him. “Uncomplicated and simplified.”

His abrupt manner didn’t faze her. Instead, she leaned close and grinned at him. “Ahh, and here I thought you were a risk-taker.”

Trying not to think about how near she stood, how good she smelled, or the soft, unconscious press of her breast against his arm, he pursed his mouth into a tight line. “I stopped taking risks a year ago when my career ended.”

“Now you play it safe, hmm?” she reflected, backing off just enough to give him some breathing room that didn’t include her light, feminine fragrance. “By keeping yourself secluded out here on your ranch and trying to be unsociable? If no one gets too close, then you won’t have to risk that heart of yours, huh?”

He narrowed his gaze, but she wasn’t at all intimidated by the menacing look he summoned. “Anybody ever tell you that you’ve got a sassy mouth that’s gonna get you into trouble?”

She blushed, but didn’t retreat. “You’re the first, and just so you don’t worry overly much about it, I can handle trouble, cowboy.”

He didn’t refute her claim, considering she’d established her capability of handling “trouble” last night in the kitchen. She’d taken his brand of orneriness and returned it in spades. The thing was, he wanted to give this feisty, stubborn woman more trouble of the sensual variety. That kiss they’d shared had kept him aroused all night long and still swirled in his belly like hundred proof whiskey. Images of making love to her, of how soft and giving her body would be beneath his, burned in his mind.

Wanting her was dangerous and incredibly stupid, yet knowing that didn’t make a lick of difference to his unruly hormones. The craving to taste her again clouded all reason. The warm awareness he detected in her eyes wrapped around him, coaxing and irresistible. His heart thundered against his ribs and he lowered his head toward hers a fraction. Her chin tilted up in an effort to meet him half way, and her damp lips parted in anticipation, releasing a soft sigh.

The sound of a horse galloping their way broke the spell between them. Rafe jerked back and swore beneath his breath, grateful at the timely interruption and furious at himself for being so careless. What was he thinking to kiss her again?

The disappointment etching Lauren’s features faded into a smile as Chad brought Bronwyn to a stop in front of the fence where they stood. Oblivious to the sensual undercurrents between adults, he thrust out his bouquet toward Lauren.

“I picked these for you,” he said, looking uncertain and hopeful at the same time.

She took the flowers he offered, her eyes shining with adoration for the young boy and his thoughtfulness. Lifting the flowers to her nose, she inhaled their light, floral fragrance. “Thank you, Chad. These are lovely.”

Chad beamed.

“You getting hungry for a sandwich, kiddo?” she asked.

“A little,” he admitted. “But can I ride Bronwyn for just a little while longer?”

The pleading note in Chad’s voice got the best of Rafe. “Ten more minutes,” he said, ignoring the knowing smile Lauren cast his way. “Then we need to cool her down.”

“Yippee!” Chad cheered, then took off with Bronwyn for another trip around the pasture.

“So, do you ride?” Rafe asked Lauren in an attempt to make conversation once they were alone again.

“I’ve had a lesson or two,” she said, her quirky smile and lilting voice telling him she was being modest about her ability to ride a horse.

“My sister invited us to her place for a barbeque tomorrow. I was thinking we could ride the horses over since she lives on the property that adjoins mine.”

“I’d love that.”

He discovered he was looking forward to the outing, too. Before he realized what he was doing, his finger touched her nose and traced a path across the color blossoming along her soft cheeks. The gesture surprised them both, and he quickly lowered his hand and cleared his throat.

“Your, ah, nose is getting pink, and so are your cheeks,” he muttered. “I’ll pick you up a hat the next time I’m in town.”

She ducked her head shyly, a quality he found fascinating when he’d only encountered the strong-willed side to the woman.

“I think I’ll go start lunch,” she said, backing away.

She walked toward the gate to exit the corral, but turned before she got there. She held those precious, already wilting flowers against her chest, looking like a wholesome country girl, making something deep inside him unfurl and ache.

Her sass returned, kicking up the tips of her mouth in an impish grin and shimmering in her dark blue eyes. “Oh, and Rafe, you’re not half bad when you’re being sociable. Better be careful, or some woman might take all that congeniality too seriously and get the notion that you need yourself a wife.”

He tried to summon a scowl at her subtle mockery, and found himself shaking his head instead—hard pressed to hold back the grin twitching the corners of his lips.

“S
o, tell me, has my brother been on his best behavior?”

Lauren smiled at Rafe’s sister, Kristin, detecting the humor in her voice and sparkling in her green eyes. They’d arrived at Kristin and James’ a half hour earlier on horseback, and after a round of introductions and idle chit-chat that familiarized strangers with one another, the two broad-shouldered men and Chad had taken off toward a corral stabling a new foal with Blackie, James’ border collie, running and playing at Chad’s heels.

Lauren didn’t mind the males heading off on their own. In fact, she welcomed the reprieve, especially from her host. Oh, she and Rafe had settled into an amicable truce since their discussion yesterday, but this moody man with all his deep, dark secrets consumed too much of her thoughts, not to mention made her pulse race when he was near from all that sexy, rugged masculine appeal of his.

She wasn’t one to indulge in impulsive, frivolous attractions, no matter how gorgeous the man, yet Rafe made her want to throw caution to the Wyoming breeze and give into the intense awareness they both seemed to be fighting.

To do so would only send her back to California with a wealth of heartache. Her time with Rafe was temporary with no room for intimate complications, and he wasn’t the type to accept a woman into the solitary life he’d created for himself. A brief fling was out of the question for her, not when she was holding out for love.