Rancher's Wife

by Anne Marie Winston

  “Angel will do,” she said coolly. It was clear that he wasn’t going to forget who she was. Or who he thought she was.

  “I’m sorry if I jumped to conclusions about your phone call,” he said with stiff courtesy.

  She shrugged. “Consider it forgotten.” She couldn’t take her gaze from his mouth. The way his lips formed his words beneath the dark mustache was hypnotic. She didn’t want to fight with this man. Before she could regret it, she blurted out, “Why did you think Karl was my lover?”

  His eyes grew cool, hardening to chips of diamond. “You forget I’ve had experience with your type before.”

  “I don’t consider myself a ‘type,’” she said. “You’re a person whose profession is ranching. Are you exactly the same as the rancher on the next spread over?”

  “No,” he said cautiously. “But you have to admit the life-style that goes along with your profession—”

  “Affects individual personalities in individual ways,” she finished. “Did Dulcie tell you why I’m here?”

  He looked blank. “To vacation, visit her.” He glanced pointedly at the basket of laundry she carried. “Although I have to admit your idea of a vacation differs from mine.”

  She refused to be charmed by him when he insulted her with every other sentence. “I’m thinking about getting out of movies, and I needed some time away to think about all the angles.”

  “What would you do? Television? Live theater?”

  She shook her head. “No, I mean a complete withdrawal from public life. I just want to be a normal person.”

  His face registered nothing but skepticism. “Wouldn’t it be tough to give up all the adulation?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Ha. My ex-wife wouldn’t be able to survive without her name in the headlines at least once a week.”

  “I’m not your ex-wife,” Angel muttered through her teeth.

  The telephone rang, interrupting her words. Day stretched an arm to the phone on the wall beside the back door. “Red Arrow Ranch, Kincaid speaking.”

  Angel hefted the basket of laundry to carry it upstairs. This was as good a time as any to make her escape. It was apparent that Day wasn’t going to change his opinion of her. All she was doing was wasting her breath trying to reason with him.

  As she turned toward the door, she heard him say, “I’m tired of your threats, Jada. Beth Ann is not coming to L.A. again. Ever. And another thing. Your calls aren’t welcome here. If you have something to say to me, say it through your lawyer.”

  Jada! Dulcie hadn’t been kidding about his ex-wife trying to take Beth Ann. As she carried the clothing upstairs, she decided that while Day’s attitude toward her was inexcusable, he probably equated anything that smacked of Hollywood with Jada Barrington right now.

  The thought depressed her out of all proportion.

  Four

  Day heaved a sigh as he sat in his office that evening. Dinner had been a charade with Angel avoiding even the most fleeting eye contract with him and Dulcie watching the two of them and then treating him to her dirtiest stare.

  He felt like a fool. Angel had been right. He had no excuse for the unfounded accusations about her extracurricular life earlier in the day. Wearily he scrubbed both hands over his face. He felt old...cynical. Marrying Jada had changed him in so many ways. Sometimes he hardly recognized himself anymore. It wasn’t pleasant to think that one bad apple had soured him on fruit forever.

  He was going to have to try harder not to let his antipathy toward entertainers extend to Angel. She was a guest, a friend of Dulcie’s. He couldn’t remember Dulcie ever inviting a friend to the ranch before, so he knew the two women must be close.

  Surely he could treat her with civility for the next few days. He knew he’d been touchier than usual since the day Angel had arrived on the Red Arrow. With that fall of sunshiny hair, those wide spaniel eyes and that incredibly sexy, loose-limbed way she had of getting herself from place to place without seeming to exert any effort... He sighed again, testing the strength of the pencil between his fingers. He just needed a woman. That was all.

  For a long time after Jada, he hadn’t wanted to go near a woman. Finally, last year, he’d met a widow in Las Cruces who had needed her itch scratched in much the same way he had. The no-strings arrangement suited them both. He’d meant to call her after this last trip to L.A. but somehow the appeal was gone.

  If he was honest with himself, he knew why, too. He’d spent the past several days fantasizing about long, slender legs wrapped around his waist and long blond tresses spread out across his pillow. She didn’t do a thing to pretty herself up, but when a woman started with the kind of raw material that Angel had—

  The pencil snapped.

  Day swore. He looked ruefully at the two halves of the broken pencil. Hell. She was going to be here for less than two weeks. Surely he could control himself that long. And then she’d go and his life could get back to normal again.

  He tossed the pencil into the trash and selected a new one, then tried to focus his attention on the breeding program displayed on the monitor before him. Breeding... mating. His common sense told him to stay away from Angelique Sumner, but the mere thought of mating with her was enough to make his body react predictably.

  Yep, no question but that she’d thrown his mind into a total spin. And it wasn’t just her sex appeal, either.

  Having a strange woman around the ranch reminded him all too vividly of the days of his short-lived and disastrous marriage, even though Dulcie’s friend couldn’t be less like his small, curvaceous, man-eating ex-wife. No, she was nothing like Jada with her practiced, polished sexuality. He almost wished she was. Then he’d be immune.

  Bile rose in his throat as he thought of Jada’s last round of threats. She couldn’t possibly take Beth Ann from him. Could she? No judge in his right mind would award custody of a small child to a woman whose loose thighs were a legend, even in Hollywood. But what if the judge was a woman?

  Thank God he had his baby back. Wasn’t possession supposed to be nine-tenths of the law? And thank God he’d realized what damage Jada was doing to Beth Ann before she did any more than she already had. Every night, he prayed that, given time, Beth Ann would outgrow the fears that her mother’s rough treatment and neglect had fostered.

  It would take patience—

  A child’s cry echoed through the house. Beth Ann! She’d had nightmares off and on for months since the first time he’d let her visit her mother. As he sprinted for the stairs, Day cursed himself for not heeding those early warning signs.

  He took the steps three at a time, skidding to a halt outside Beth Ann’s door to calm himself. He couldn’t help her if she sensed how uptight he was. And then he heard a woman’s voice, realized that the quietly reassuring murmur came from his daughter’s room. He stepped into the doorway to see better.

  In the dim glow shed by Beth Ann’s night-light, he could see Angel seated on the side of his daughter’s bed. Beth Ann was in her arms and she was rocking the child gently back and forth. “What’s wrong, honey? Angel will take care of you.”

  Beth Ann whimpered, and his heart clenched painfully as she said, “I dreamed Mommy put me in a dark place and I couldn’t get out. I was hungry.”

  Even in the dark he sensed Angel’s recoil at the implication of those whispered words. She gathered Beth Ann closer, continuing to rock as she said, “No one’s going to put you in a dark place, Beth Ann. I’m going to stay right here with you until you fall asleep again and your light will stay on all night. See?” She pointed at the sizable night-light Day had bought after Beth Ann’s first visit to her mother.

  His daughter seemed content with that, and she snuggled deeper into Angel’s arms with one small thumb in her mouth, the other hand firmly clutching her beloved blanket. As he watched, Angel lifted her face to the ceiling, and he was stunned to see the glitter of tears on her cheeks.

  Moving into the room, he knelt beside her. “Hey, filly,”
he said to Beth Ann. “Daddy’s here.” And to Angel he said, “I’ll take her.”

  Angel moved immediately to shift the child into his arms. As he slipped a palm beneath his daughter’s little body, the back of his hand pressed firmly, for one fleeting instant against a mound of warm, soft female flesh covered by thin silk. His gaze flew to Angel’s, but she was looking down at Beth Ann. Unable to stop himself, he took in the picture she made, the fall of hair he’d been dreaming of finally slithering around her shoulders and the short silk kimono she wore. Was she wearing anything beneath it? It sure as shootin’ hadn’t felt like she was. The robe overlapped across her breasts, but Beth Ann’s snuggling had dislodged the fabric so that a deep valley of shadow beckoned. Farther down, long, smooth legs were exposed from midthigh to toe, and if he hadn’t had his hands full, he would have been hard-pressed to keep from sliding an appreciative palm down that inviting length.

  As he settled Beth Ann into his arms, a warm, dark scent assailed his nostrils. His body, already stirring with awareness, took a giant leap to life. Was this how his stallion felt when he scented a mare in heat? Hell, it was no wonder he acted so wild. Day felt pretty wild himself.

  “Thanks,” he said brusquely. “You can leave us now.”

  She went still. Then, without a word, she removed her hand from Beth Ann’s clasp and rose. But as she started toward the door, Beth Ann stirred in his arms and began to whimper. “No! Angel, stay. Daddy, I want Angel.” The whimper became a full-fledged wail.

  Quickly Angel pivoted and stepped back to his side. “It’s all right, Bethie. Your daddy’s here now. He can stay with you.”

  Behind them, Dulcie stuck her head in the door. “Do you need me?”

  “Beth Ann had a bad dream,” he answered. “I’ll handle it.”

  “Suit yourself.” Dulcie disappeared and he heard her bedroom door close again.

  Beth Ann had twisted in his arms and her tiny hand clutched at the short hem of Angel’s robe. “Angel, stay here,” she said, yawning.

  He could see that she was falling back to sleep. Angel was still standing before him and he commanded her, “Sit down beside me until she’s asleep.”

  She sat. She left a discreet space between them but the mattress dipped enough under their combined weight to send her sliding against him, her bare leg against the rough seam of his jeans.

  Day gritted his teeth. Beth Ann still had the hem of Angel’s robe in one hand and one flap was pulled up to expose a silken shadow of inner thigh. What would it be like to touch her there? To slide his finger between those thighs, up perhaps a scant inch until he was stroking the sweet woman’s heat he knew was sheltered there?

  Angel cleared her throat. “I think she’s asleep.”

  Did he imagine it or was she breathing too fast? He wanted her! He hadn’t felt like this since—

  Since he’d met Jada and been so hot for her he’d gotten her pregnant like a teenager without a lick of sense.

  The thought was like a dip in the horse trough on a chilly morning. Immediately every vestige of desire vanished. “Get out of my way,” he growled.

  Angel sprang off the bed as if she’d been burned. Beth Ann’s little hand had gone limp in sleep and Angel’s robe flapped around her thighs as she vanished from the room.

  Carefully he laid his child in her bed and covered her, taking a moment to caress one satiny cheek. If anyone—any woman—thought she could take this precious gift away from him, she would damn well have to think again. He bent to kiss Beth Ann’s forehead but his mind was already on the battle he sought. Two steps to the door and four more down the hallway. A light showed from under the door and he didn’t bother to knock.

  The knob turned easily under his hand; he was in the room before she even saw him. Angel spun at his entrance. She’d loosened the robe and appeared to be about to shed it and climb back into bed. With a stifled gasp, she shrugged the robe back over shoulders that gleamed a creamy pearl in the light from her bedside lamp. A part of his mind appreciated the glimpse of smooth pale flesh that had been exposed through the robe’s opening when she whirled.

  But he was too angry to dwell on it. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, closing the space between them until he was only inches from her stunned face.

  Angel was still for a moment, much as she’d been earlier, and he realized she was marshaling her defenses, not quailing in fear as he’d half hoped.

  “I was getting ready for bed,” she said coolly, quietly. “Until you barged in here like a madman.” She deliberately raised a hand and inspected beautifully shaped fingernails, then lifted her gaze to his. “If you think I’m going to apologize for comforting a frightened child, you can think again.”

  Her eyes held nothing. Her face had gone blank and still, totally unreadable, and he saw that she was blocking him out. The knowledge made him even angrier. “Comforting a frightened child? Is that what you call it?” he sneered, pushing his face even closer. “Listen, lady, I don’t need your help raising my daughter and I’ll thank you to stay away from her. I won’t have you manipulating her emotions so you can get close to me. Her own mother did enough damage for a lifetime. I’d just as soon you didn’t add to it.”

  He’d gotten under her skin, he saw with satisfaction.

  Her mouth opened once and closed again. “You think I’m—I’m being friendly to Beth Ann so I can get close to you?” Her tone took on a mocking note and her eyebrows rose in disbelief as her chin shot up several notches.

  He was too wound up to heed the warning signals. “I think it’s a distinct possibility. And I’m warning you to back off. I have no intention of letting another woman into my life, so if you’re playing up to Beth Ann in hopes of hooking me you can forget it.”

  “Hooking you?” She practically spat the words at him. “Are you under treatment for these delusions? Any woman in the world would love that little girl, but once she found out she had to take you as part of the package, I can guarantee you she’d think twice.” She tilted her chin up another degree. “How a surly grouch like you could have fathered such a darling child is beyond me! Just in case you’re not getting the message, let me put it more clearly. The last thing on my mind is a liaison with you, Romeo.”

  He shifted from foot to foot, itching to plant a fist squarely against that haughty jawline, but a deeply ingrained protective instinct held him back. “Oh, yeah?”

  She stared at him through narrowed eyes that practically shot flames. “Yeah. Not for a hundred bucks.”

  “No?”

  “Not in a million years.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive. Not even if you were the last man on Earth.”

  “You know what I think?”

  “I don’t care what you think.”

  “I think you’re protesting too much.”

  “I am not.” She was still nose to nose with him, but suddenly he saw that he’d gotten through. Feminine awareness sprang to life in her eyes and uncertainty dropped that maddening chin a full inch.

  “You are,” he said as he placed his hands at her waist.

  “Wait! I don’t want this—”

  “Yes, you do.” And he lowered his mouth to hers.

  Angel went rigid with shock. She put up her hands to push him away, but Day pulled her hard against him, flattening her hands between them as his mouth covered hers. Her heart raced; the knot of tension in her stomach dropped several inches to center squarely in her abdomen.

  His mouth was as hard as his body, yet warm and persuasive as it molded her with strong intent. Her protest died unborn. One of his hands still gripped her waist; his fingers slowly spread so that his thumb rested on her hipbone. Each millimeter of skin it covered on the small journey felt as if it would be forever imprinted with his searing brand. The other arm was a hard bar behind her back, his palm flattening her against him in inescapable demand. There, too, she imagined that the print of his hand would show on her sensitized skin for the
rest of her life.

  She knew she should fight, should scream, should refuse to yield to this masculine domination. But her senses were far too preoccupied with registering the unique scents and tastes and smells that were Day Kincaid to give much thought to protesting. She could no more prevent her mouth from moving under his than she could prevent her hands from crawling up to clutch at his broad shoulders.

  She hadn’t seen this moment coming, but her body knew without question that this was right, this was good, this was what she’d waited for...forever. One tiny part of her brain tried to stir, to warn her that this was just a man and not one who thought her particularly trustworthy at that, but it was overridden by the sensual explosions that registered everywhere his body touched hers. This wasn’t just a man—this was The Man. With a moan, she softened against him, returning the pressure of his lips.

  Her yielding was instantly recognized and accepted. Day shifted his hand from her hip around to join its companion at her back, pulling her even closer. Her breasts were flattened against his chest and even through their clothes she could feel the heat his big body gave off. His belt buckle dug into her torso, and below...below there was no mistaking the powerful strength of aroused man that throbbed against her soft belly, a tensile shaft of burning heat against which she automatically pressed herself in response.

  Her lips parted under the insistent demand of his. When his tongue slipped along her bottom lip, she shivered helplessly, opening her mouth in an invitation he was quick to accept. The mating of their tongues felt right, a sensation she’d craved without realizing it.

  She moaned again.

  Day gathered her closer, though she couldn’t imagine it was possible. His hands gripped her waist as he kissed a steady path along the line of her jaw to her ear. When his hot mouth took her earlobe in a strong suckle, she jerked against him with an involuntary gasp. Before her body could do more than jolt again in his arms, he’d moved on, down the sensitive cord at the side of her neck, across her collarbone and farther.