Lana stared at the chutes, terror and anxiety overtaking her without warning. She’d attended rodeos before and had even known some of the cowboys. Sometimes they fell, although injuries hadn’t bothered her too much. The thought of watching Duncan take a spill sickened her. Confused, she tore her attention from the arena and attempted to chat to the man seated on her right. Like her, he was a shifter, a farmer who lived near the Mitchells. He seemed nice enough, although he wasn’t Duncan.
Only natural. She’d spent the last day with Duncan and they’d slept together. That was the reason for her loyalty. Nothing else.
“They say bull riding is the most dangerous eight seconds in professional sports,” Rick said.
Not what she wanted to hear.
“Don’t worry,” Emily said. “Duncan knows what he’s doing.”
“Duncan?” Rick asked. “Are you with Duncan?”
“No,” Lana said.
“Yes,” Emily said at the same time.
Saber chuckled. “One of them is right, Rick.”
Lana caught Rick’s disappointment even though he hid it. “I was going to ask you to dance tonight.”
“And I’ll say yes,” Lana said.
“She’ll also be dancing with Duncan during the night,” Emily said, muddying the waters again. “She’s a free spirit.”
Lana glared at Emily without dampening her friend’s unrepentant smile. A quick glance at Rick didn’t help with Lana’s irritation. The speculative look in his eyes had nothing to do with finding a mate. He was thinking booty call all the way. Huh! She might want sex but she wasn’t easy.
* * * * *
Duncan waited for his ride with the other cowboys. Normally the nerves kicked in by now. Not today. Since he’d decided to retire at the end of the season, he’d relaxed and enjoyed himself, shooting the breeze with the other cowboys and friends made on the circuit. Instead of thinking about his upcoming ride on Major, the bull he’d drawn, his thoughts drifted to Lana. The more time he spent with her the more convinced he became of the rightness of them as a couple. Jamie, his cousin, stood between them like a silent sentinel. His hand flexed around the railing of the yards where the bulls waited. There was something in Jamie and Lana’s relationship that appeared off. Every time someone mentioned Jamie, Lana’s reaction seemed tinged with guilt. Had she cheated on Jamie? That could be a possibility. Knowing both Jamie and Lana, it didn’t seem likely. But what other reason could Lana have for remorse?
Whitie, the cowboy in front of him in the draw, climbed into the chute, one of his spurs rattling as it knocked against his other boot.
“Duncan, you’re good to go in chute two,” one of the behind-scenes helpers said.
Duncan pulled on his protective vest, shunting thoughts of Lana to the back of his mind before striding over to the chute. Major was a top bull. He’d need his wits about him to last eight seconds on the champion. Major’s fabulous corkscrew bucks were famous. If a cowboy lasted the distance on him, they placed, often in first. Duncan had drawn Major once before and to his chagrin hadn’t lasted past the second explosive buck out of the chute.
The hooter sounded, and the crowd cheered. “That was Whitie Bolton on Sinbad, the only cowboy so far to last eight seconds.”
Duncan tugged a glove from his jeans pocket and drew it on his right hand. He checked the rosin, the sticky substance applied to give extra grip, and applied a little more. Emptying his mind of everything apart from Lana, he climbed up onto the chute rails to study Major, the massive crossbred Brahma bull he’d drawn. Top of the bull standings, only a handful of cowboys had ridden him to eight seconds.
Major snorted as the helpers fastened the flank strap and bull rope around his bulk. He stood quietly. Duncan didn’t relax since he’d seen this before.
“Hey, boy,” he murmured. “Let’s you and I come to an agreement.”
One stockman snorted. “This is new. Dunc is trying to talk him into submission.”
The other stockman hooted. “Seems to work with the ladies. You going to the dance tonight?”
“Sure,” Duncan said, taking their teasing in his stride. While they poked fun at each other, the crowd following the rodeo was a tight-knit bunch. He’d miss them when he left the circuit. His involvement as a stock contractor would be different. He’d still need to travel, but if things went the way he wanted, he’d have Lana at his side. “I’m not knocking back a chance to dance with the ladies.”
“Make sure you leave some for us, mate,” one said.
“I’m not greedy,” Duncan said. All he wanted was one green-eyed lass called Lana. The rest he’d leave for the other men.
As Duncan climbed onto the quivering bulk of the bull, Major snorted and tossed his head. Duncan ignored him, knowing his feline scent stirred the animal’s unease. Nothing like a little extra challenge to give a cowboy determination. He’d worked with the handicap from his first ride on a bull, and while some might see it as a disadvantage, Duncan thought it made him a better athlete.
“Whoa, steady there, Major,” one of the stockmen said. “Haven’t seen him act like this. He’s usually as docile as a lamb until he springs from the chute.”
“Must be me,” Duncan said with unconcern, having experienced it before. He settled himself on the broad back, planted his hat on his head and adjusted his grip on the bull rope. When the all clear sounded, Duncan clamped his legs around the bull’s middle, nodded his head and the gate opened.
“This is Duncan Ross riding the champion bull Major. Only a handful of cowboys have ridden this bull for eight seconds,” the announcer shouted, his voice rising in excitement.
Major exploded from the chute, springing high and tucking his bulky body into his signature corkscrew. The bull landed hard, jarring Duncan’s entire torso before spinning and kicking back in a series of spine-jarring twists. Dust rose in a cloud, obscuring his vision. Duncan’s hat went flying. The crowd roared, but he focused on the quivering mass of muscle beneath him and on his technique. He kept his left hand high and well away from both himself and the bull to prevent disqualification. He remained loose, letting his body flow with the bull’s bucks.
Nothing fancy required because Major was an athlete too. Hang on. Stay aboard. Another buck snapped his body upright. The wind whistled past his ears. Duncan slipped. One more tricky twist from the bull and he’d be history. He rode out a smaller, less powerful buck, regaining his balance.
Hot damn, the hooter must be close. Stay on. He could do it, go out as a winner. Fuck, this was a long eight seconds. Major spun and Duncan lurched to the side.
The hooter blared.
The crowd roared. He worked to free his hand and flew off, landing with a breath-stealing thump. Sometimes it was damn harder to get off a bull than clambering on. Behind him, the thunder of the pick-up horses galloped in his direction. Major bellowed and bucked off his trailing rope. The horses caught up, the riders herding the bull away, leaving Duncan to catch his breath.
“Great ride for Duncan Ross. Eight seconds on Major. That’s one for the history books,” the announcer screamed.
Duncan clambered to his feet and sauntered back to grab his hat, slapping it against his chaps before planting it on his head again. Grinning, he waved to the crowd, adrenaline still pumping. As he climbed the railings to exit the arena, he scanned the crowd hoping to see Lana. Disappointment hit him in the gut when he couldn’t see her. He jumped off and the other cowboys mobbed him with congratulations on his ride.
“Good one, Dunc,” Whitie said. “You’ve got a good chance at the championship this year.”
“Don’t think so,” Duncan said. “I’m retiring.”
The questions flew quick and fast, many of his friends telling him he was bloody mad. Too bad. Making his move on Lana had helped him decide. Time to retire and start a new life. If he played his cards right, Lana and he might have a kid on the way soon. He imagined Lana, her belly swollen with their child, and smiled. What a beautiful sight that would b
e, and if he had his way, they’d have children soon.
* * * * *
A cold chill rippled across Lana’s skin when she watched the massive bull burst from the chutes with Duncan on its back. It struck her then how dangerous the sport was. A man could die or end up injured from taking part. She swallowed, not wanting to watch yet unable to tear her gaze away. Please don’t fall. Her lips moved in a silent prayer as the longest eight seconds of her life played out. The hooter went and the people around her sprang to their feet, cheering and whistling. Lana remained seated because she didn’t think her legs would hold her.
In that moment, her feelings crystallized with distinct clarity. She’d fallen for Duncan. Oh, she wasn’t stupid enough to let him get closer, but she’d allowed her emotions to become involved. A dangerous situation and one she needed to quash before things roared out of control.
Sex was one thing. Marriage was out of the question.
Lana wasn’t afraid to make mistakes. Slip-ups happened. The crime occurred when a person didn’t pay attention and learn the first time ’round.
Chapter Six
Lana thought about telling Duncan she couldn’t sleep with him again after the rodeo dance and presentation. She’d decided it would be best to avoid both him and temptation. But one glance across the crowded room and she knew she’d been fooling herself.
Revelers packed the marquee. A Country Western band belted out foot-stompin’ tunes and dancers filled the open ground serving as a dance floor. Lana sat with Emily, waiting for Saber to return with drinks. Duncan stood with a group of his friends near the entrance to the marquee. Although he appeared to listen to the conversation, his gaze swept the room. Looking for her? Her heart pounded at the thought, which made her frown. A relationship with Duncan threatened her freedom, everything she wanted for her future.
“Would you like to dance?” Rick, Saber’s neighbor, tapped her on the shoulder and smiled at her. “Hi, Emily. Is it okay if we leave you alone?”
“Go and dance. Saber will be back soon. He’s at the bar,” Emily said.
“I’d love to.” Lana pushed back her chair and stood, accepting his outstretched hand. Maybe dancing with other men would take her mind off Duncan.
Or not.
She sensed the second Duncan spotted her, the visual caress when he scanned her form. Without conceit, Lana knew she looked her best. She’d gone to extra pains, borrowing a red dress from Emily. Her lucky dress, Emily had said, pressing it into her hands even though she’d protested the dress she’d packed was fine.
A slow dance started and Rick took her into his arms, heat from his touch seeping through the silky red fabric of her dress. He smelled good, danced well and seemed a nice guy—except he wasn’t Duncan. Oh boy. She was screwed.
Panic unfurled in the pit of her stomach while she gave herself a pep talk. Definitely no sex after the dance.
“Would you go out with me some time?” Rick asked.
“I don’t get much time off, but I’d love to see you next time you’re in Queenstown.”
Rick guided her around another couple. “Is there someone else?”
“No, my restaurant keeps me busy. I’m only here this weekend because the restaurant is closed for renovations.”
Rick turned her again and her gaze met Duncan’s. The heat in his green eyes made her stumble. Oh yeah. She was in big, big trouble.
* * * * *
“Dance with me, Duncan,” a feminine voice said.
Duncan dragged his attention off Lana and turned. “Hey, Jennifer. You look good tonight.”
The blonde glowed with pleasure. “Thanks. Congratulations on winning the bull ride today. You were fantastic.”
“Thanks. We’ll dance later, hmmm? There’s someone I need to see.” When the music wound to an end, Duncan strode over to Lana without looking back. “Lana. Rick.”
“Great ride today, Duncan,” Rick said.
“Thanks. Can I steal Lana for a dance?”
Rick looked as if he might argue. Duncan didn’t let that bother him. He took Lana’s hand and tugged her into his arms. The notes of a slow dance started, which gave him an excuse to hold her close.
“You look beautiful.”
“You scrub up pretty good yourself,” Lana said.
“Is something wrong?” He registered her unease, her fear.
“Just thinking about work. I have a lot to do next week before the restaurant reopens.”
“Can I help with anything?”
“Not really. Besides, you’ll be off to the next rodeo.”
Duncan wanted to tell her he’d retired, but she seemed so skittish he decided to wait. Some of the gossip might reach her tonight. If he stayed at her side, he’d deflect the worst. Of course he could always persuade her to take a walk and go home early.
He drew her closer to prevent a collision and her breasts brushed his white shirt.
“What are you wearing under that dress?” he asked when he noticed her rigid nipples.
She swallowed and refused to look at him. “I borrowed the dress from Emily and my bra didn’t work with the cut of the bodice.” An attractive flush filled her cheeks.
Duncan grinned and leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “You are wearing panties, right?”
“No,” Lana said. “Emily said the dress sat better without underwear.”
“Did she? I will have to thank Emily for her thoughtfulness.” His hand smoothed over her back to rest on the curve of her buttocks. “Feel what you do to me.”
“It’s a good idea the lights are dimmed in this part of the marquee. You wouldn’t want to shock any of the elderly ladies or the Feline council.”
“We could take a walk,” he suggested.
“Oh no. You’re not talking me into that again. Besides, you need to stick around for the prize-giving.”
Unfortunately she was right. “Later after the prize-giving.”
“I don’t think so,” Lana said.
Duncan’s eyes narrowed. She meant more than the prize-giving. “I’ll see you later at Saber’s house.”
“No, not tonight.”
“Why not? I thought you enjoyed last night.”
“I did,” Lana said. “Our night was a one-time thing. I’m heading home tomorrow and we won’t see each other for months. I thought you realized I wanted sex without promises.”
“You wanted to scratch an itch?”
Lana nodded. “Exactly. I told you that straight up. Whew, for a minute there I thought you’d misunderstood me. I’m not looking for serious.”
Duncan nodded. Not if he had anything to do with it. Thanking the instinct that had told him to stay quiet regarding his retirement, he pondered his options and kept coming back to the same one. He’d have to woo her to his way of thinking.
“Lana, I know you don’t want serious. That’s no reason to deprive both of us a night of fun.”
“I don’t know—”
“Come on, babe. It’s one night and the next day we’ll go our separate ways.” But not for long. He was tired of the cat-and-mouse game.
“I…I’ll think about it.”
A challenge. A goal to work toward. He responded well to challenges. “I’ll be my persuasive best,” he promised.
“You don’t own me,” she snapped, her tone sharp and eyes flashing with sudden temper.
“Of course I don’t.” Surprised, he studied her tight-lipped expression. What the hell had gone on between her and Jamie? He’d seen them together when he came home for visits. They’d seemed happy enough. Not that he’d cared to look too closely with his emotions involved. No, instead he’d played hard, trying to forget the one woman he couldn’t have. “I’d like to spend tonight with you.” Pulling her close again, he guided them around the floor, just enjoying having her in his arms.
The song finished and someone tapped him on the shoulder. “Can I dance with Lana?” Rick asked.
Lana smiled. Duncan’s hands tightened on her shoulders before giving
the man a curt nod and stepping back. He forced himself to walk away and struggled to contain the possessive reaction flooding his body. Even so, a feral growl escaped, luckily covered by the start of the next song. He stalked across the floor, hands fisted at his side, his gums aching as canines pushed to the surface. Damn, he had to control his feline. Part of him wanted to leave while the other part wanted to return to the dance floor and tear Lana from Rick’s arms. He did neither. Instead, he strode over to the table where Emily and Saber sat and claimed one of the empty chairs.
Aware of their silent scrutiny, Duncan dragged in a deep breath, clutching at the tabletop while trying to regain control. When he glanced down, he noticed his claws were visible beneath his fingernails and stuffed them out of sight. Hot damn. He hadn’t had problems with control since the age of thirteen, during his randy teenager stage. His attention wandered to the dance floor, and he glimpsed Lana. Her partner’s hand strayed downward until it covered her butt. A snarl squeezed past his clenched teeth and his knuckles turned white.
“Problem?” Saber asked.
Duncan blinked and realized Saber and Emily scrutinized him, aware of his turmoil. “No problem,” he said before changing his mind. “Lana.”
“Oh,” Emily said with a grin. “Good choice.”
“All she wants is a fling.” Duncan tried to hide his discouragement. He’d hate for them to think less of Lana because she wanted casual sex.
Emily’s grin widened to delight. “And you want more.”
“You’re a doomed man if you’re at that stage,” Saber said. “Nothing to do except follow through.”
“He’s already followed through,” Emily said. “You heard them from our bedroom. It’s stickability that’s the problem.”
“Not on my end,” Duncan said. “Do either of you know much about her marriage to Jamie?”
“From what I could see they were happy,” Saber said. “We didn’t see them often in Middlemarch.”
“I didn’t know Jamie. He died before I met Saber. Lana hasn’t discussed her marriage. We talk about girl stuff and our businesses.”
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