by BJ Wane
It had taken some doing, first finding someone disreputable enough to break a few laws getting into private records then offering enough monetary enticement to get the job done quickly without getting caught. For two weeks, he’d waited to hear back from him, all the while forced to listen to the old man’s complaints about his failure to bring him the daughter he’d ignored for most of her life.
Near death experiences apparently had a way of changing a person, his father being a prime example. No matter, Bruce thought, stalking out of the office to pour himself a drink. He would personally ensure the two never met and be there for the old man to comfort him through his grief after learning of her unfortunate demise.
Carrying his whiskey out to the veranda, he settled in his favorite chair and took in the Arizona sunset across the vast, untouched desert landscape. He wasn’t about to lose half his inheritance, which would cost him an unacceptable portion of his current lifestyle, including this property in the elite, gated community he couldn’t afford without his dad’s money. With its privacy, killer views, and top-of-the-line amenities, he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else after enjoying these luxuries for so long. Then there were his creditors breathing down his neck to add to his reasons for making sure he was the only one to reap the benefits of his father’s labors.
If a young woman had to lose her life for him to keep what was rightfully his in the first place, so be it. His father had raised him to be a ruthless businessman; it wasn’t his fault the callous heartlessness Frank had instilled in him extended to beyond business dealings.
Bruce waited until he reached Idaho and got settled into a motel outside of Boise, about twenty-five miles from Mountain Bend where Halldor purportedly resided, to make his plans. He’d told his father he was leaving on a short business trip, but that he had people still looking for his daughter. Frank hadn’t been happy, but then, that was nothing new. He’d been impossible to live with, a changed man since recovering from his massive heart attack. Halldor’s sudden disappearance hadn’t improved Frank’s, or Bruce’s disposition for that matter, and he decided she needed to pay for the extra grief she’d caused him.
He would let her live a little longer for the payback fun of watching her squirm in fear. As he unpacked and climbed into the lumpy, uncomfortable bed and listened to the traffic outside the window, he added the necessity of staying in such a place to his list of grievances against her.
****
Temporary, lust-induced insanity. That’s the only excuse I can come up with. Lisa gripped the steering wheel as she turned off the main road and drove between the brick entrance posts to Shawn’s property Saturday morning, asking herself what the heck had gotten into her. She didn’t need the angst of spending more time with the man she kept obsessing over. Hadn’t tormenting herself last night by imagining Master Shawn at his club with another willing submissive been enough self-abuse and misery to put herself through? She’d enjoyed his surprise visit the other night way too much for her peace of mind. Add in the prickling jealousy still cramping her abdomen and her hopes of returning home unscathed from meeting her one-time protector were shot to hell.
“A bad case of the hots and curiosity, that’s all that’s going on,” she muttered as she drank in the picturesque vista spread out before her.
Ranging cattle herds dotted the vast acreage of wild prairie land, and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a few shaggy-haired, lumbering bison. A shimmering small lake offered water, with the ponderosa and lodgepole pines providing ample shade. She could catch the scent of pine on the light breeze coming in her rolled down window as she took in the snow-capped mountains looming skyward in the background.
Following Shawn’s instructions, she veered left and took the smooth dirt road to the log house he had described. Parking in the circle drive, she got out and admired the well-kept lawn and shrubs. From the pointers he’d given her on mowing, she suspected he took care of his own grass despite his busy schedule. How he kept up with his jobs as a deputy sheriff, part owner of this ranch, and now invested in a private club, she couldn’t begin to guess.
Lisa stood outside enjoying the sun on her face and the faint lowing of cattle reaching her ears, pondering how long she could procrastinate before letting Shawn know she was here, and how she could keep herself from wanting more from him than a day spent as casual acquaintances. Then he stepped out onto the front porch, and her heart executed a slow roll again, that funny feeling that hinted it wasn’t just her body craving more from the deputy sheriff slash rancher.
Screw it, she thought, eyeing his tall frame, broad shoulders, and rugged face, a curl of arousal settling low in her abdomen. She wanted this day with him, a few hours free of worrying about a crazy person stalking her, to enjoy his company without the secret of their first encounter standing between them.
Shawn came down the steps, his loose-limbed stride revealing the strength of his quad muscles contracting under the tight denim, the black belt cinched around his slim hips conjuring up new fantasies she’d never contemplated before. Looking up at his chiseled, tanned face, beard-shadowed jaw, and into the suggestive purpose in his potent, gunmetal gaze nearly stripped away the last of her defenses.
“Have any trouble finding your way here?” he asked, grasping her hand.
Lisa wished she didn’t like that sign of possessiveness or the tight clasp of his much larger hand engulfing her smaller one so much. “No, your instructions were good. Oh!” She stumbled to a stop behind him as two German shepherds came bounding toward them from the back of the cabin.
“Mo, Curly, back.” Shawn held his free hand palm out toward the dogs and they halted a foot from them, looking at him with adoration in their dark eyes and tongues lolling out. “Good boys,” he crooned in a tone she’d never heard him use.
She grinned as he scratched behind their ears, one at a time, the dogs’ obvious trust easing the tension their sudden appearance had produced. Having never owned a pet, she’d never understood the bond between a dog and owner, but there was no denying Shawn’s attachment to the pair.
Tugging her up next to him, he gave her a reassuring glance. “They’re friendly if you want to pet them. I adopted them from a rescue shelter not long ago, and they’ve come a long way with a healthy, steady diet and socialization. But even so, they’ve never shown a sign of aggression, which is surprising, given the breed and their previous neglect.”
Twenty years and he is still saving kids, and now animals, she mused, recalling the article on Shawn’s rescue of the young boy who had fallen down a well. She needed to remember part of his interest in her stemmed from his nature to jump in and help those in jeopardy, the other part as a Dom intent on fixing
whatever had been holding her back.
Reaching a tentative hand toward the closest dog, Lisa sank her fingers into his thick fur and got a lick on her wrist that tickled. “He’s soft.” She frowned, feeling his ribs. “And still too skinny.”
“Yeah, that’ll take time. Once they’ve put on more weight and can handle the extra exercise, I’ll take them on the range with me. But right now, I have to put them in the house before we leave. I just installed a dog door and built a fenced run on the other side so they’re not cooped up all day.” He nodded toward an oversized truck parked next to his department-issued cruiser. “Let me help you into the cab then give me a minute to take them inside.”
“Where will we be going?” she asked, patting the other dog before following Shawn, smiling when the pair trotted behind them.
“To the stables, where Dakota has a docile mare picked out for you. You can get used to her in the corral first then I’ll take you on a trail ride to the creek that has the best fishing.” He opened the passenger door, releasing her hand to lift her onto the seat.
Grasping his shoulders for balance, Lisa found herself at eye level with him, their faces a mere inch apart, his eyes going dark and her pulse skipping a beat. She moistened her suddenly dry lips, wanting him to close the small gap between their mouth
s in the worst way.
His hands tightened on her waist as he growled, “Fuck,” and took possession of her mouth.
Digging her nails into his thick muscles, she groaned at the insistence of his tongue stroking hers, sweeping her gums, then returning to taste her again. His lips moved with hard aggression over hers, working her mouth until she couldn’t tell them apart. The ball of heat his touch produced in her stomach slowly unfurled to spread up to her breasts and down to her pussy. His hands slid from her waist to her butt, pushing her forward on the seat as he spread her knees with his. She grew hot with arousal, quivering as he settled between them, pressing his denim-encased, thick erection against her mound while easing up on her mouth just enough to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of her lower lip.
“Shawn, this…”
He stroked his tongue over the sting, soothing the throb that matched the ache between her legs. “Not a good idea, I know,” he finished for her before pulling away and dropping his hands. “I’ll be right back.”
Lisa touched her lip, watching him interact with the dogs on the way to the house, her heart heavy. No good could come of letting him touch her again, but she seemed unable to resist. The heartbreak she was courting just might be worth it to pass the next few weeks submitting to his possession.
The drive to the stables took about ten minutes, and on the way, Shawn told her a little about the Coopers, who had taken the three of them in, and Buck’s recent death.
“You really cared for him.” It was there in his voice and the sadness in his eyes.
“Yeah, we all did. Shocked the hell out of us when he left us in charge of this spread. Miss Betty was happy to move to Mountain Bend, and into the one retirement neighborhood where she had friends who were also widows.” He pointed to the forested area on the right. “Buck caught us hanging out in there instead of going to school one morning. How the hell he knew we skipped is still unknown, but we paid the price when he made us spend the day polishing every saddle and oiling all the tack then writing apologies to each teacher. He never raised his voice, didn’t have to. He could come across as disappointed and pissed at the same time.”
“And you stayed.”
He nodded. “We stayed. Despite the hard work and the rules we weren’t used to, the three of us admitted to each other we were intrigued by the change from everything we’d grown up with. The education in caring for livestock and farming crops was a lot more interesting than algebra and English lit.”
“I liked school,” she admitted but could see how this ranch with its endless open ranges, woods, and creeks that offered the chance for teenage boys to ride and work in the outdoors could alter their adolescent bad behavior.
Shawn flipped her a rueful grin as he parked in front of a massive stable painted beige with red trim and surrounded by several other, equally large, similar buildings. “You were a shy book geek, weren’t you?”
Returning his smile, she opened her door. “Yes, but I don’t regret skipping the wild parties I was never invited to anyway. My studying got me a scholarship, which I needed since my foster family’s obligation ended when I turned eighteen.” A look of compassion crossed his face, and to defuse the awkward moment, she nodded toward the tall man with American Indian features standing by a corral. “Is that Dakota? I think I saw him at Spurs.”
“That’s him. Don’t let his size and scowl bother you. He doesn’t like to let people know he’s really a pussycat,” he replied with an undertone of amusement as he alit from the truck.
Lisa was more interested in the brown-and-white dappled mare tethered to the fence rail, her large doe eyes reflecting a sweet disposition. Shawn snatched her hand again, his touch a quick reminder of the heat his kiss had generated.
It was going to be a long day.
“Dakota, this is Lisa. Angel is a good pick for her. Thanks.”
Craning her neck to look up at the man whose face was sun-kissed darker than Shawn’s, she guessed his intimidating height reached at least six foot four. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said when he didn’t respond.
“Welcome to the Rolling Hills Ranch. Like Shawn said, Angel here won’t give you any trouble.” He turned his midnight eyes toward Shawn. “I need to go over a few things with you.”
“No problem.” Shawn flagged down a young cowhand working just inside the open stable doors before telling Lisa, “I’ll help you mount, and Scotty will lead you around for a few minutes.”
Lisa nodded, smiling at the hired hand as Shawn introduced them and asked for his assistance.
“Glad to,” Scotty replied, tipping his hat to her. “Miss.”
“They’re bigger up close.” She caressed the silky nose as Angel leaned her head over the rail, unable to resist the mare’s friendly nudge against her shoulder.
Shawn took her elbow. “And she’s one of our smaller horses. Come inside so I can boost you up. Scotty, walk her around and stay close. This is her first time.”
“Yes, sir. I won’t let you fall, miss.”
He was so polite and earnest, Lisa couldn’t help but like him. “I’m not worried, Scotty.”
At least, not about getting on the horse. She was concerned about her growing need for Shawn as he led her into the corral and stood behind her to place her hands on the saddle pommel then press his big body against her back. His warm breath tickled her neck as he leaned close to say, “Put your foot in the stirrup and I’ll give you a boost.”
His warm breath tickled her neck as he leaned close to say, “Put your foot in the stirrup and I’ll give you a boost.”
Since her brain didn’t seem to be functioning on all cylinders and his nearness snagged her breath, Lisa didn’t try modifying her voice to sound unaffected. “Okay.” Her breath released on a gasp as he lifted her at the waist and she swung her leg over the saddle, the sudden height offering an expanded view across the pastureland for as far as she could see.
“Oh, it’s breathtaking,” she said in awe.
“Wait until we start riding. I’ll be right back. Hold on tight,” he replied, handing Scotty the reins.
Lisa’s focus switched from Shawn to enjoying the slow rocking atop the mare as Scotty strolled around the corral, leading the mare. Loving everything about the new venture, she soon found her rhythm and grew at ease riding the gentle horse. Scotty gave her pointers and a mini-lesson on how to steer, start, and stop, and by the time Shawn returned, she was more than ready to leave the enclosure and try a faster gait.
****
Shawn’s plans for the afternoon hadn’t included kissing Lisa so soon after she arrived or pushing her buttons by keeping close and constantly touching her. But she was too damn irresistible, especially when she didn’t think he noticed the flashes of lust crossing her face or the vulnerable need reflected in her eyes. He imagined sexual attraction was as easy for her to identify and admit to as it was for him, yet she seemed less inclined to embrace exploring the deeper relationship he found himself leaning toward.
The key to opening her mind to that possibility lay in finding out what had driven her here in the first place, and why she didn’t want him to know. While he did enjoy a puzzle and a challenge, he was conscious of his growing desire to have her stay in Mountain Bend and how little time he had to make that happen.
As she rode alongside him across the prairies, he admired the ease with which she’d taken to riding. The smile that had kicked up as they’d ridden out of the corral and hadn’t slipped in the last thirty minutes revealed her pleasure, the sidelong glances she likely thought he was blind to conveyed interest in more than riding. He liked seeing her so relaxed, having fun, her eyes clear of troubling shadows.
“Tug your reins to the left,” he instructed as they neared a trail bisecting the wooded area up ahead. “We’ll take that path through the trees to the creek.”
Looking toward the path, her brows furrowed. “It looks narrow.”
“Stay behind me. You’ll be fine. Angel knows the way, so all you
have to do is sit tight.”
Her doubt cleared, and she flashed him a broad grin. “I’ve got that part down pat.”
“Yes, you do,” he murmured, thinking that could also apply to her reservations about getting involved with him.
Shawn never tired of the fresh, combined scents of pines, firs, and red cedar that assailed his nostrils as soon as he entered the woods. The constant racket of busy squirrels hopping from tree to tree and the flutter of twittering birds made up for the lack of conversation until they came out at the wide, fast-flowing creek.
“What do you think?” he asked her, dismounting then reaching up to help her down.
“It’s beautiful. Is there anything besides trout?”
“Not a fan, huh?” he replied when she wrinkled her nose. “Some steelhead, Mountain Whitefish, bass, a few more. It’s a little early, but the salmon is great.”
“I love salmon but never knew you could find it in rivers.”
“We’ll come out again in a few weeks.” Holding her close, he felt a small shudder go through her. Pleased with that response, he tugged the fishing poles out of his saddle, saying, “The Salmon River feeds into several creeks. We’re lucky enough to have one of them running through our property. Grab that blanket tucked into your saddlebag, will you?”
“Sure.”
Another satisfied kick struck him with her reluctance to disengage from his light hold. Stepping back, he waited until she turned toward Angel then swatted her ass before hiking down to a grassy spot on the bank. The start of April had bumped the temperature into the upper fifties, and with the sun shining high, they would have a pleasant afternoon. He should feel guilty for bailing on his ranch responsibilities for a few hours, but he could make it up to Clayton and Dakota later. If he only had a limited time with the girl he’d never forgotten in all these years, he wanted to take advantage of every moment.
“Just so you know,” Lisa said as she reached him with the blanket over her arm, “I’m as ignorant about fishing as riding.”
“There’s not much to it. Bait the line, toss it in, and wait for a nibble.”