The Cowboy Claims His Lady (6 page)

She stared ahead at Bruce.

He seemed pointedly oblivious of the forbidden path. Instead, like any good guide, his attention was on his riders and the condition of the trail ahead. But he sat his horse with a stiffer back than usual, and Lyndie wondered if passing the fork in the trail hit a raw spot within him.

“Does anyone ever go up there anymore?” she asked Justin.

He only shook his head. “When the boss is in a temper he goes, but only then.”

Lyndie returned her attention to the trail, her thoughts far away.

Roger and Annette were ahead of her on a couple of Appaloosas. Another two women, sisters, had signed up for the dude ranch from Los Angeles. They were outrageously flirtatious with their guide Justin, a burly redheaded cowboy who headed the trail, and Lyndie almost envied them.

They were playing.

Bruce abruptly went to the rear on his dun quarter horse, Beastie Boy. Girlie kept wanting to turn around and nip Beastie Boy. At one point, Lyndie laughed out loud: the horses seemed to be mirroring the tensions of their riders.

But she got nothing but a frosty stare from Bruce.

Finally they stopped at a stream where the chuck wagon met them for breakfast.

Justin held her horse while she dismounted. She had liked Justin on sight. The young man was every woman's idea of the boy next door. His grin was contagious, and she could see he had a soft spot for the ladies. Kim and Susan, the women from L.A., positively purred whenever he got within pheromone distance.

“How you like it so far?” Justin asked Lyndie
while they were served bacon and eggs from the chuck wagon fire.

“Unfortunately, I missed yesterday's lesson, but I guess I can keep up,” Lyndie offered.

“I'll be happy to give you time in the ring if you need extra schoolin'.” Justin winked.

She couldn't hide her grin. There was something so wholesome about Justin. She could understand Kim and Susan's enchantment. He was what he was—outrageously on the prowl—as opposed to his boss, Bruce Everett, who was anything but comprehensible.

“I think I can muddle through, but thank you for the offer. I'll keep it in mind.” Lyndie smiled and walked past Bruce.

He only scowled.

When she sat down against a tree trunk, she was dismayed when Bruce settled next to her.

“Sleep well?” he asked diabolically, as if he could read her dreams.

She tilted her mouth in a dismissive smile. “Why wouldn't I?” she challenged.

He cocked an eyebrow.

She dug into her eggs with a vengeance.

“Tonight's the rodeo. You up to it?” he mentioned, chewing on his bacon.

“Is that part of the program?” She buttered a biscuit.

“Absolutely.”

“Then, I guess I can spare eight seconds.”

He laughed, but then quickly sobered. Those gray eyes honed in on hers. “It's a long eight seconds. You ever ridden a bull?”

“No,” she said truthfully.

“Then, you should try it.” He went back to his breakfast.

The featherlight tingle traveled down her spine to her belly, and then lower.

She stared at him, at his long lean body, and the way his flannel shirt clung to each and every muscle bulge in his arm. She remembered the hair sprinkled across his chest and the trail of dark hair that promised to lead to pleasure.

The idea of staying on him for eight seconds thrilled and strangely terrified her.

The image didn't leave her mind the entire trip.

Even when she left Girlie in the paddock that evening, and she limped, saddle sore, back to her bunkhouse, she couldn't get the picture of eight seconds with Bruce Everett out of her head.

“B
ut he's so ridiculously male, Hazel. I can't take him seriously.” Lyndie sat next to Hazel at the Mystery bull-riding rodeo, whispering.

“But that's what you don't understand, love. You're a McCallum. You don't have to take him seriously. You just have to relax and have some fun.” Hazel stood and whooped for the latest eight-second winner.

“I admit he has a certain masculine charm…” Lyndie murmured.

“If he hired out the stud in him, he'd be richer than me,” Hazel pronounced in her no-nonsense style.

Lyndie couldn't help but smile.

But the smile vanished the minute she caught Bruce's eye. He was at the gates, helping the bull riders onto their animals.

Being a champion bull rider himself, she figured, he probably had a lot of advice to give.

But to her, and her broken heart, he had nothing to offer. They were like night and day. He was racked with guilt over his ill-fated love; she was tormented by rage over her ex's betrayal. They didn't even have that in common.

“I admit he's rather attractive in a primordial caveman sort of way. But, Hazel, it would be wrong to use the man just for casual sex.” Lyndie hoped the subject was finished.

“There are more happy marriages that began with nothing more than a bit of tomcatting around than I care to count.” Once again Hazel was her usual blunt self.

“So what are you saying? Are you challenging me to get him into bed? You naughty woman.”

Hazel put on her most serious face. “Of course, I'm not making such a lewd challenge.” Hazel narrowed her eyes and studied her. Taunting her, the cattle baroness said, “I certainly understand if you can't attract him, my dear. You're the competitive type. Look at the business you're in. Retail. What could be more brutal? I couldn't ask you on your
vacation to do something that's beyond your reach. It would be grossly cruel of me.”

Lyndie paused and stared at her great-aunt in amazement. “You, Great-aunt Hazel, are an evil woman.”

Hazel smiled. “You don't get to be my age, my dear, without understanding a thing or two about humanity.”

“I could get him into bed anytime I wanted to.”

“Prove it.”

Lyndie stared at her, confounded. “Is the whole world conspiring against me?”

“You could do worse.”

“He's a cowboy with a chip on his shoulder the size of Wyoming.”

“Are you saying you won't accept the challenge?”

“The man is randy. If I offer sex, he'll take it.”

“They say he hasn't had a woman since Katherine. No one can fire him up. I don't expect you'll be able to, either.”

“It's not my job to play sex therapist, Hazel. He can hire that out.”

“Take a shot at him. If you fail, you fail.”

“What if I succeed, and he disappoints. What then? Are you going to reimburse me for the experience?”

Hazel turned to her, her expression gleeful. “I'll
tell you what, my dear. If he disappoints, you don't have to repay MDR Corporation. Is that a deal?”

“Does my mother know what a wicked conspirator you are, Hazel?”

Hazel winked. “She never took my advice and look what happened—I always wanted her to marry that cowboy down in the valley.”

Lyndie was speechless.

 

“You know what?” Lyndie said, pumped up on adrenaline and cheap beer as she stood next to Bruce at the gates.

Bruce paddocked the last prize-winning bull and wiped the dust from his eyes. “What?”

“I've been challenged by Hazel to seduce you. She doesn't think I can do it, but you know, I think I can. And if I succeed, she says she'll forgive my MDR Corporation debt.”

He stared at her in the darkness of the paddock.

She couldn't read his expression.

“Of course,” she rambled, “I won't let her forgive the debt. I am a McCallum, after all, and I pay my debts back, but it would delight me to no end to prove her and her wicked matchmaking ways wrong. Would you go along with the gag?”

He stepped toward her. She leaned back against the metal tube fencing of the paddock until she nearly melted into it.

Still he came, pressing toward her, tall and intimidating, masculine and domineering.

“I'll go along with it. How far are we going?” He smiled.

“Well—not far enough for me to be a notch on your bedpost,” she confirmed nervously.

“I'd rather you be tethered to my bedpost.” He pressed his long lean body against hers.

His hard chest rammed against her soft, fulsome one. The contrast was almost more than she could bear. His steely arm clamped around her waist. She was captured.

She looked up at him, wondering how feminine wiles could ever tame such a male animal. Against her will, her breath quickened, and the fluttering in her belly became a heated dampness between her legs. She was no match for him when his very nearness caused her to tremble and melt.

“I just want out of a debt.” She desperately tried to remain practical and detached.

“You know, there's a name for women like you. Money isn't always the key, is it?” His strong callused hand swept a wisp of hair from her eyes. His touch was fire.

She felt her cheeks heat with a blush. “Well, at least my price is more than you can pay.”

He tilted back his head and laughed. “Don't be so sure of yourself. You'd be surprised what I can pay.”

She smiled, valiantly trying to remain chummy even though his very scent was driving her to distraction; its earthiness, its darkness promised way more than she could handle.

Sobering, she said, “Look, this is our little joke. Play along with me, will you? For Hazel's sake?” she begged. “The woman's got her finger in every pot in this town. She really does need to fail once in a while so she will stay out of other people's business—including mine.”

He put his face to hers. The heat of his breath warmed her cheek. “I'll play anything with you, girl, but what do I get if I win?”

She held his gaze. “You won't win.”

“No?” he asked, his voice husky with desire.

“No,” she affirmed, just before his lips came down on hers.

His mouth was hot and demanding, and the loneliness inside her took it like a rainstorm on scorched earth. His tongue pushed inside her hungry mouth and took away all thoughts of protest. He kissed her, and each second with him like this seemed to promise an eternity.

She knew she should push him away. A second wasn't an eternity, the rational side of her announced, but in his strong arms, she became nothing but gelatinous, quivering feeling. Her body turned so liquid, his embrace was the only thing holding her up.

And still she took his kiss, wondering who was the seducer and who the seducee. Everything got turned around where he was concerned.

His tongue licked a flame within her that melted even her most frigid parts.

Then the yearning came. Like a wind that passed through her very being, she wanted him, body and soul.

If they had not been in the shadows of a public arena she might have succumbed, right then and there.

“Is the battle mine?” he whispered harshly when he broke away.

“You won't win the war,” she almost panted.

“Take it one fight at a time, love. You might find we're on the same side.”

She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. He inspired feelings inside her that she thought Mitch had destroyed. It was a shock to find she was still human and breathing and feeling, after all she'd been through.

It was also a shock to see she still held hope inside her, as if it were some kind of precious gem that, no matter how she denied its existence, still shone within her, everlasting.

“Maybe this wasn't such a good idea,” she whispered, her hand across her mouth as if her lips still burned from the kiss. She wondered if she hadn't just yanked the tail of a sleeping beast.

“No, it's a great idea.” He grinned, his mouth twisting in a lopsided way that made him—all steely muscles and steely eyes—look boyish.

Her gaze locked with his, and her confidence that she could control him faded with every excited beat of her heart.

“Do we start tonight?” He placed his hand on her waist and tried to kiss her again.

She nearly jumped. “Hey—let's not get carried away. I can't win right away. This has to look realistic.”

“You mean you want a challenge?”

“Yes. This has to be a bit of a challenge, don't you think? Or Hazel won't believe it.”

“I'll make Hazel believe it.”

“That's the spirit,” she said, her heartbeat calming.

“But I got no tolerance for teasing.”

“What do you think I plan to do? Show up on the trail ride in just my panties and bra?” She laughed. “We're on a dude ranch. It'll be a miracle if you can still tell I'm a woman underneath all the dust and sweat in this place.”

“You're the Panty Princess. Don't know what you sell in that shop down in New Orleans, but I know I don't want to be teased by it.”

“This is just to fool Hazel,” she countered. “I'm not really going to try and seduce you. You do understand that, don't you?”

He nodded.

Then, with a harsh whisper, he said, “I know. 'Cause I'm going to seduce you.”

 

The crisp mountain air was something Lyndie was unused to. Riding Girlie along McCallum land, she revelled in the expansive view of rock and snow and velvety green valleys. They had breakfast on one side of the Continental Divide and lunch on the other. It was the first time in her life she'd tasted water that led to two different oceans.

“Having fun?” Annette asked, pulling her horse next to Lyndie's.

Lyndie smiled. “Having a blast. How about you?”

“It's a dream come true. I had no idea heaven was in Mystery, Montana.”

Lyndie looked around her. It
was
heaven.

The last of the sun bronzed the face of the Divide, turning the snowtops to molten gold. Long blue shadows fingered up through the valleys to meet the thunderous cloudbank overhead. The scenery around her enticed and threatened like none other.

Except the cowboy who headed the trail.

Lyndie kept an eye on Bruce. He slouched deep in his saddle, clearly a veteran of trail rides. Beastie Boy kept a sure foot on the narrow trail.

It had been like this for three days. After her challenge, instead of playing along, all he did was ignore
her. She was ready to give up the joke because it wasn't being played out too effectively. It was hard to pretend-seduce someone who didn't even look at you.

“Are you finally ready to embrace cowboy life, Lyndie?” Roger called out from behind.

“I'd have to be blind not to love it here,” she called back, realizing it was true. For three days she'd done nothing but eat, sleep and drink horses. But through all the hard work, she found a peace that she had never known in New Orleans, crammed in her office at the back of the shop.

Perhaps there was something to the idea of getting back to nature. Montana touched the spirit inside of her, healing the wounds of urban life—the fast pace, the stress and the pollution.

Indeed, perhaps she was ready to embrace the cowboy life.

But she wouldn't be embracing the cowboy, she thought wryly as she watched the two sisters from L.A. flirt outrageously with their cowboy guides. Kim had taken up with Justin from the minute the woman's gaze landed on the redhead. That left Susan with no male companionship other than Bruce's.

And Susan saw to it that Bruce was never lonely. Heading out on the trail, Susan always maneuvered her horse directly behind Beastie Boy.

Lyndie didn't even dare go near them, for Girlie and Susan's horse were notorious fighters. She'd
been told by both Justin and Bruce that she must not let Girlie anywhere near Susan's horse, and vice versa, or they would suffer the consequences of bucking, biting mares.

Which certainly killed any desire to get near Bruce.

Lyndie was resigned to losing the bet with Hazel, anyway.

That night at the rodeo proved she was out of her league when it came to Bruce's seduction tactics. He was the tomcat, she reminded herself, while she had learned nothing about relationships except how to play the good and devoted wife. Seduction had not been emphasized in her love experience.

Besides, as she told herself bitterly, she clearly wasn't all that good at it: her seductions hadn't kept Mitch in the marital bed.

“We'll be leaving the trail early today. Storms coming,” Bruce announced, turning Beastie Boy as if on a dime.

The rest of the riders followed, allowing Justin to lead the way back.

“Damn lightning,” Lyndie heard Bruce mutter after the flash of light from the black sky.

Girlie's ears pricked forward. She began prancing.

A few seconds later, the delayed boom of thunder sent the horse into a frenzy. The animal scrambled along the path, but with the way ahead blocked by Roger's horse, all she could do was dig her hooves
into the vertical side of the mountain, causing a rock slide.

“Whoa,” Lyndie soothed, amazed she was still on the frightened animal.

“She's no good in a thunderstorm. Never has been. You'll have to come with me if you don't want to get hurt.”

Lyndie heard Bruce before she felt his arm go around her. In one swoop, he'd taken her from the saddle and placed her on Beastie Boy. Then he grabbed Girlie's reins and calmed the skittish animal.

“That's her only flaw. Hates lightning,” Bruce muttered.

“I have the same flaw. I hate it, too.” Lyndie tried to relax against Bruce's torso, but the solid wall of muscle against her back unsettled her. Especially when he moved. Then every ripple seemed to burn into her back like a branding iron. And the rhythmic movement of the ride made her think of other kinds of activities she could do with him. His scent, too, was becoming all too addictive. Now mixed with the pungent scent of lodgepole pine and saddlesoap, he was a living aphrodisiac.