“Come here,” she said, but he was off the bed and rummaging through his wallet.
“Condom.” He held it up triumphantly, and then ripped it open with his teeth.
She’d never seen anything sexier than Boone sliding the condom on his shaft, protecting her. He came back to the bed and braced himself above her, his blue eyes smoldering with heat.
“Sofia,” he said on a ragged breath. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you.” She ran her fingers through his thick hair. “Inside me.”
“I’m not going to make you wait. And I’ll never keep anything from you again.” With those delicious words he plunged deep inside her.
His words were sweet, but sweeter still were his thrusts. They tugged at something deep inside her, the friction and pressure mounting, the pleasure building quickly. She wrapped her legs around his back, urging him deeper, closer, clutching at his steely buttocks. The springs of her bed squeaked, the frame rattled and the headboard smacked against the wall as Boone gave her everything he had.
Chapter Eight
Eventually Sofia came back down to earth.
Breathless, she buried her face in the crook of Boone’s shoulder and neck. After a few minutes, she felt calm enough to speak.
“I’m sorry. This isn’t like me.”
“What’s wrong?” His warm hand skimmed down to the small of her back, giving her a sweet rush of tingles.
“You should know, I don’t sleep around.”
“I didn’t think so.”
She held her breath, then let it out along with her words. “I’m not easy, Boone, but tonight I threw myself at you.”
“Um, what?” He snorted.
“Seriously, I’m not usually so...aggressive. Out of control.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “You have got to be kidding me. Do you hear me complaining?”
“No, and I guess you wouldn’t, but I just wanted you to know this doesn’t usually happen to me.”
“It doesn’t usually happen to me, either.” He drew her closer into his arms, his lips against her temple, his voice deep and soft.
“I mean, my Valentino is on the floor.” She resisted every urge in her body that told her to get up right this second and pick that piece of fashion genius off the floor. “That’s how off the rails I am with you.”
“What’s a valentino?” He squinted.
She had to laugh. “My dress. I don’t usually let that baby touch the ground.”
“Why? It is holy?”
“Okay, smart-ass. It’s expensive, that’s all. I got an amazing deal on it. It was a sample.” She threw a longing glance at the dress on the floor in a heap.
“You really want to get out of bed right now and hang it up, don’t you?” He chuckled.
“Yes,” she confessed. “But I won’t.”
“Good, because I don’t think I’m ready to let go of you yet.” His arms tightened around her. “It’s a great dress, but what’s underneath is so much better.”
“Nice, cowboy. That’s a great line.”
He chuckled again, then kissed her shoulder. “Tell me you don’t regret this. Us.”
But even though maybe she’d rushed into this kind of intimacy with him, she couldn’t be sorry. This felt right.
“No, I will never say that.”
Boone felt comfortable, easy to be with, and in this past week she’d gotten to know the man. In a way, she was grateful to have met him before she’d known about all of the money. Having seen what Camilla went through when she dated Jordan, she might have had second thoughts. Because she’d dated rich guys before, but never seriously. She’d certainly never slept with any of them.
“Let me get this straight. You think you started this tonight, when I kissed you first?”
“You were trying to end an argument.” She cocked her head and waited for him to admit it.
He smiled, a little sheepishly, as if she’d seen right through him. “You’re right.”
“But I’m the one who led you to my bed.”
“Well, a gentleman needs an invitation.” His hand gently squeezed her fingers where they were lying low on his abs.
“I ripped your clothes off.” She buried her face in his neck, the shock of her boldness only now fully hitting her.
“And thank you, by the way.”
She swatted his arm playfully. “You look good in those clothes! I don’t know what you have against them.”
“I like being comfortable, which I am right this minute.” He stretched. “Except for one thing. I’m starved. Let’s order a pizza.”
“What’s wrong?” She propped her chin on his chest. “You didn’t like the pan-seared tofu steaks with coriander cream and asparagus spears?”
“I didn’t see you eating,” Boone teased, his fingers touching the soft hairs on the back of her neck.
“I couldn’t. I was too mad at you. I love Camilla’s food, but I’m a meat eater all the way. How many juicy burgers did you see me eat at DJ’s Deluxe?”
“Yeah. You’re definitely a cattle rancher’s dream girl.”
Those sweet words tugged at her heart, and she kissed him. Then he kissed her, a little more deeply, his tongue caressing and stroking hers. She felt his muscles tense beneath her as he grew hard again. And then Boone rolled on top of her, flashing her his wicked smile. He threaded his fingers through both of her hands, then pulled them up above her.
And they stopped talking for a long time.
* * *
The next morning, Sofia woke to the sound of the wind whipping against her flimsy windows. She and Boone were buried under layers of throws and comforters and that, not to mention their body heat, had her warm and cozy. Last night, after their second time making love, she’d hung up her Valentino, and also his clothes, while Boone ordered them a pizza.
The remnants of the pizza box were on the floor on Boone’s side of the bed. Cozy though she was curled up next to Boone’s very naked body, nature called. She moved, and he didn’t even stir. Gathering up a blanket for cover, she tiptoed to the always-on-the-fritz thermostat. Seriously, she could see her breath, it was that cold in here. She flicked the thermostat with her finger, willing it to work.
In the bathroom, she turned on the light and startled in fright. Her hair was a wild mess of tangles, its natural frizz taking over like a weed that spread when unattended.
Great. Just great. He looks like an Adonis in his sleep. And I look like...like I just stuck my finger in an electrical socket.
She washed her face, reapplied her mascara, then reached under the vanity for the flat iron and plugged it in.
A soft knock came at the door. “Sofia? Are you okay? You’ve been in there a long time.”
“I—I’ll...be right out.”
No time to fix this hair disaster. She turned off the iron and shoved it under the sink. Smoothed her hair down the best she could do and opened the door with a smile.
“Hey, there.”
“Hi, beautiful.” He tugged her into his arms. “It’s freezing in here. You okay?”
“I’m fine, just trying to jazz up a little bit for you.”
“No need. You’re jazzed.” Tucking her to his side, he walked them to the thermostat, holding the blanket around them both. “I think this is your problem. Seems to be stuck.” He tapped it.
“I know. I need to get the landlord to fix it. Or maybe get double-paned windows installed.”
“Both are great ideas, but for now let’s go back to bed.”
He pulled back the covers and she climbed in. He was next to her within seconds, taking her in his warm and capable arms. The fingers of one hand played with her hair, as if he didn’t care that he might be stirring a bird’s nest.
“My hair gets like this when it’s going to either snow, sleet or rain
.”
“Gets like what?”
“Frizzy.”
“I hadn’t noticed. Well, which one is it? Snow or rain?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I can’t actually tell, Boone.”
He chuckled. “You didn’t ask your hair? Personally, I think it might snow.”
“My hair says rain. I just asked.”
“It’s still early, but what are you doing today? Any plans?”
She had family dinner with her parents every Sunday, but she wasn’t sure that she should put Boone through that kind of interrogation this soon. Her father was hell to her dates, and he’d never met a single one he’d approved of. If he ever found out Boone had lied to her, he’d probably accuse him of high crimes and misdemeanors.
Today, she’d probably do exciting stuff like head to the laundromat, drop off some clothes at the cleaners and later work on some new sketches. The repairs she’d done to Daphne’s dress had given her some new ideas.
Still, she told him, “Nothing specific. Why?”
“Might be a good time to come by the ranch. Meet some of the horses.”
“You work on Sundays?” He was beginning to sound as much like a workaholic as Jordan.
“Every day is a workday on a ranch. I take time off when I need to.”
“I guess I can come by if I won’t be in your way.”
Boone tugged her even closer, if that were possible, and shared more of his body heat with her.
She was rather curious about Dalton’s Grange, having never been there. Maybe she’d get to meet the elusive Neal Dalton, who had a reputation in town as a somewhat unsavory character. When they’d first arrived in Bronco, Sofia had heard an ugly rumor that the Dalton money had come through mob connections. Another time, they were all drug dealers associated with the cartel.
But when Erica Abernathy married Morgan Dalton, she gave some legitimacy to the Daltons. No way would Erica be associated with anyone who had underworld ties. They might be a little bad, rocks instead of diamonds, but they certainly weren’t criminals. In hindsight, the rumors were ridiculous. Now that she knew Mr. Dalton had obtained his money through a gambling windfall, she understood how the gossip might have been started. Most people in Bronco were conservative when it came to taking risks like gambling, her parents included.
Outside, the wind whistled past the windows, welcoming another crisp October day. But she cuddled closer to Boone, dug deeper under the covers and found a way to stay warm for the rest of the morning.
* * *
Sofia ran her errands in record time, and by early afternoon she dressed in the outfit she’d wear to Dalton’s Grange. She’d been waiting for an opportunity to wear her new leather boots. They had a little heel, though nothing like the four inches that were her norm. She’d simply be watching Boone at work, so there probably wouldn’t be much walking. Anyway, it wasn’t the first time she’d built an outfit around the shoes. She went with her thick black leggings paired with her camel cashmere turtleneck and black faux fur–lined vest. Because she was going to a ranch, she decided to be casual about her hair. She straightened it, and then pulled it up into a tight and high ponytail. At the last minute, she added a caramel silk scarf and tied it in a perfect knot.
Boone had left her directions to Dalton’s Grange, and she found it to be a little farther out of town than the Taylors’ ranch, where she now often visited Camilla. Today, the Montana sky was a gorgeous patch of blue, the mountains green and lush. The trees filled with red, yellow and golden leaves were almost showing off. A drive like this to the country was good for the soul, her mother always said.
Sofia took the turn Boone had mentioned and drove down a lone strip of road that seemed like it might be a gravel-covered driveway but went on far too long. She kept driving. At this point it seemed as if the Dalton ranch was on the other side of the moon. Good grief. Finally, she spotted a house in the distance, nestled between two hills.
Holy freaking Ferrari. They had an incredible view. On the right, she saw all the land, pastures and pens filled with cattle roaming in the distance. She found the stone-paved driveway and turned. The home was a lovely log-style cabin, very understated, and tucked close to the base of a mountain. There was a long circular driveway leading to the front, but she kept driving on the narrow lane. It led her to the barns and stables, and in the distance, the horse corral where Boone had told her he’d be.
There seemed to be a great deal of activity there, and she parked near a few trucks. She walked toward the corral, stopping when she saw a large black horse rear. The man holding the reins dropped them and made a dash for the other side of the fence. He left this mad horse in the corral with Boone.
She gasped. “Oh, no.”
He was going to get injured, right here while she watched it all happen. The horse began galloping around the corral like the hounds of hell were on his heels. Boone simply stood in the center of this chaos, not moving.
“Don’t worry, he knows what he’s doing.”
Startled, Sofia whirled around to find an older gentleman behind her. He wore a dark Stetson and looked every bit the wealthy rancher. Tall, built, imposing. His piercing blue eyes were all business, and he had an air about him that said he’d be able to take care of himself in a dark alley. No need for hired bodyguards for him. Then she noticed the large Buck knife sheathed and buckled to his belt.
“That looks dangerous,” she managed, nudging her chin toward the corral.
“Not for him,” the man said as he stepped beside her. “I’m Neal Dalton.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Sofia Sanchez,” she said. “I’m... Boone invited me.”
The horse had stopped galloping, as if out of steam. He simply trotted slowly around the corral now. Boone, for his part, walked next to him, a little closer each time.
“Horses are prey animals, so they spook easily,” Neal said. “This one has a behavior issue ever since he was in an accident with his owner. Don’t worry about Boone. He’s handled worse. He breaks fillies and colts for us, since they’re such a part of ranch work, but he does this kind of work rehabilitating traumatized horses, too.”
He walked toward the corral and urged Sofia to follow him. She did, her boots kicking up the dusty ground. At the fence, Mr. Dalton stuck one boot on the rail and leaned forward.
“This is a beautiful thing to watch,” he told her.
Boone had now approached the horse, facing him. The horse backed up, as if in fear. But Boone didn’t retreat. Calmly, slowly, he continued to approach the horse, who backed up several more times before he finally gave up. He lowered his head and allowed Boone to step close enough to touch him.
“It’s poetry in motion,” Neal said.
Mesmerized, Sofia agreed. “It must take so much patience, and a complete lack of fear.”
“He understands horses, and they understand him. It’s like they have a unique language. My wife says that Boone loves horses more than people.” Neal chuckled. “Well, maybe not all people, but certainly more than me.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“That’s kind of you to say, but I’ve been a real bastard for most of my life. Boone is the middle son, and the one who always called me out on my BS. I’m sure you’ve heard of us. The Daltons who might not be all bad, but hell, we’re bad enough.”
“I don’t believe in gossip. My father says that small-minded people talk about other people. Wise people talk about ideas.”
“Smart man, your father.”
As they watched, Boone attached a lead to the horse and began to lead him around the corral. It looked so simple, so easy, and yet minutes ago that horse had been wild and bucking. That only meant to her that Boone made an incredibly difficult task look easy.
At that moment, he caught her gaze and gave her a quick nod and smile before he went back to giving the horse his e
xclusive attention.
“It was nice meeting you, Sofia,” Neal Dalton said. “I’m taking my wife to dinner tonight so I better go and get spruced up for her.”
“Nice to meet you.”
The man tipped his hat and ambled away. A few minutes later, Sofia had finished watching in wonder as that wild horse was saddled and Boone rode him around the corral a few times. Then he hopped off and led the horse out of the corral, where he met briefly with the man who’d run out.
“Hey,” Boone said, walking up to her and giving her a quick kiss. “You look beautiful.”
“That’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it. You’ve got a real gift.”
He nodded, acknowledging her compliment. “Guess I speak their language. Horses get spooked easily, and I’m not as afraid of them as most people are.”
“Most people have good reason to be afraid. A horse that size could really hurt someone.”
“True, but they would never mean to.”
“Your father reminded me that horses are prey animals.”
“Did he?”
“I got to meet him just now. He’s taking your mother to dinner and wanted to be sure to be presentable. That’s very sweet and romantic.”
It was so different from her own family. Her parents were happy and loved each other, but they rarely took time alone together. They were all about large family get-togethers and completely overinvolved in their children’s lives.
“Is it their wedding anniversary?”
“No, but it’s probably some other anniversary. Like their first date or something.”
“That’s so cute that they still do that kind of thing.”
“Yeah.” Boone didn’t seem as impressed as he kicked a pebble on the ground. “Anything else my father tell you?”
She elbowed Boone as they walked away from the corral. “What are you worried about? He was a perfect gentleman.”
“Really.”
“He did use some salty language, but I’m a grown-up. It’s fine.”
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