by Mindy Neff
And she was seriously losing it if she was drawing parallels between cows and sensitive pets.
When they lumbered forward a few more steps in unison, she stopped twirling the flower stem between her fingers.
“What is with those cows? A few more feet and they’ll be in our laps.”
Tanner looked at the animals. They went still, as though scenting an opponent. An unfriendly opponent. “From the tracks around the property, I’d say they’ve been loose for quite a while. Evidently they’ve made themselves at home, and figure we’re trespassers.”
“They’re acting awfully strange. Why do they keep looking back like that?” A rush of adrenaline shot through her. Unconsciously, she scooted closer to Tanner. “You don’t suppose there’s someone out there, do you?”
“Doubt it. The cows would be running scared.”
His calm evaluation took some of the edge off her nerves. She felt safe with Tanner. Protected.
Protected as far as her person was concerned, she amended. Her heart was an entirely different matter.
“They’re not scared of us,” she countered.
“You wouldn’t scare a fly.”
She wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or an insult. Her brow arched. “I have my moments. You, on the other hand, can definitely be terrifying. So why aren’t the cows paying attention?”
He stared at her for a long, humming moment. “Maybe I’m losing my touch.”
Oh, her mind wanted to find all kinds of interpretations for what he meant by “touch.” “I don’t think so.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. Stay put. I’ll have a look around.”
“Not on your life—or mine,” she amended, jumping up from the rock when he stood. “I’ll go with you.”
Though he didn’t actually smile, a dimple indented his cheek. “You’re scaring yourself with the thought of nefarious people lurking in the bushes. Believe me, Blackie, if there was someone around, I’d know it.”
His calmness made her feel foolish. She tossed her hair back, took a breath. “I doubt that you’re infallible. And after yesterday, anything is possible—even probable.”
“Maligning my bodyguarding abilities?” He tsked and put his hand at her back, urging her forward. “Let’s go see what’s spooking the Holstein.”
“I didn’t say they were spooked. Just acting weird.” A thought struck her, making her shudder. “You don’t suppose there are snakes out here, do you?”
He glanced down at her bare feet, his eyes traveling upward, lingering on her shorts—or rather, his shorts. She saw a muscle tick in his jaw, saw his eyes flare.
“Got a phobia, huh?”
His silky voice sent chills up her spine. Yes, she had a phobia about snakes. And she was fast developing one over the fact that she wasn’t wearing underwear.
And that he knew it.
Unwilling to show a weakness, she marched ahead of him. Although she tried for dignity, it was a tough call. With a very real desire to keep her feet off the ground lest she encounter a slithery snake, she probably looked like a cocky rooster practicing a strut.
And doing a bad job of it.
Tanner caught up with her in two strides, making an effort to keep his grin under control. She lived on a ranch, spent a good deal of time outdoors. And the lady was scared silly of snakes. She also didn’t like admitting to vulnerabilities.
He’d have to remember that. He knew about wearing masks. He was a master at the art. She, on the other hand, could use a few pointers. Her clear green eyes were like a sparkling window—the protection was there, but you could see right through it.
“Want a piggyback ride?”
“No, thank you,” she answered primly.
He lost the battle with the grin. “Ah, the deb’s back.”
“Shut up, Tanner.”
He chuckled, startling a robin from the tree. Evidently he’d startled Jordan, too. Her head whipped around and she stared at him as though seeing him for the first time.
He sobered. “What?”
“Nothing...I guess I’m not used to hearing you laugh.”
“I might be from the wrong side of the tracks, but I’m human.”
She stepped over a low sagebrush and swore when her bare heel came down on a thorny weed. “There’s just the two of us here, Tanner. Isolated except for those silly cows who’re following us. Cut the digs about class distinction.” She hopped on one foot, brushing at her heel. “What is the matter with those animals? Shoo!”
“Be still.” He knelt on one knee in front of her, drew her onto the other, and lifted her foot. Her irritation was as plain as day. “You’re going to get the thing embedded.”
. Her arm went around his neck for balance. “I can get it.”
“Yeah, but at what price? I’ve got willpower, duchess, but not that much. You keep hopping around—without a stitch of underclothes on—and I swear I’m gonna get ideas.”
She went utterly still. Her breasts beneath the flimsy tank top pressed into his chest. The barrier of her shorts might just as well have not been there. He could feel every contour of her compact body. Balanced on his knee, her outer thigh brushed against a part of him that was already achingly hard.
He’d been in that state since he’d first laid eyes on her at Gatlin’s, dressed for sin and out for trouble.
She was causing a hell of a lot of trouble with his libido, with his control.
He extracted the sticker, and ran his thumb over her heel. Her soles were roughened, as though she was used to going barefoot.
He raised his head, his gaze slamming into hers. God Almighty, this woman was his dream. It seemed he’d been waiting for her all his life. He tightened his hands around her waist, pushing her thigh more firmly against him, torturing himself.
But he couldn’t let her go, couldn’t look away. He saw the nervous sweep of her tongue over those pink, pouty lips and felt as though something vital had short-circuited in his brain.
The groan that escaped his throat surprised him. He could no more have stopped himself at that moment than he could have sprouted wings and flown.
Cupping the back of her head, he drew her to him, so close, lips barely touching.
“God, you’re beautiful.” He feasted, angling her head, drawing in her essence. Sweet. So sweet. The urgency that swept him raged like an unstoppable bullet. He couldn’t think. Could only feel.
He couldn’t remember this ever happening in his life—to have his mind blanked of everything but a woman.
Everything but Jordan Grazer.
The loss of control scared him. He wanted to lay her down on the bed of grassy earth, to peel away the flirty barrier of cotton that enticed rather than hid, to make love with her under the canopy of leaves overhead, to explore every facet of her firm body right here in the summer shade of the California oaks.
Her fingers tangled in his hair and all the strength went out of his knees. From his crouched position, he eased them to the ground, still holding her in his lap. Desire shot straight over the top as he realized that she’d taken over the kiss, was calling the shots, making him burn. The strength of her fingers in his hair, the avidness of her mouth moving across his, exploring, enticing, wiped his brain of all coherent thought.
Without permission, he jerked at the hem of her tank top, slid his hand beneath, and cupped her smooth breast. Her nipples were pebble hard, straining against his thumb. God, this woman had fire—damn near outmatched him.
The raspy low of a cow penetrated the mist of desire, bringing him to his senses. His head shot up, alert, his instincts kicking in, searching for danger.
He felt the beat of Jordan’s heart beneath his hand.
“What is it?” Her voice was breathless, aroused.
He gave himself a moment before he tried to speak. Years of living on the edge told him that danger didn’t lurk. But something was disturbing those cows. He glanced down at Jordan. She seemed unaware that her hand covered his where it still rest
ed over her breast.
He knew the instant that realization dawned. Color bloomed on her face, and she snatched her hand away, struggling to get to her feet.
“Easy does it, Blackie.” He stood and helped her up, noticing that she looked everywhere but at him. He decided the cows could wait for another minute or two. “There’s something between us. What just happened was inevitable. I’m not going to apologize.”
She tugged at the hem of her tank top, molding the material to her breasts. He nearly lost his train of thought.
“I should be apologizing to Randall,” she said, her voice breathy. “This isn’t right. I can’t...”
The sound of his hopes cracking rang in his ears. Always on the outside looking in. He didn’t make a habit of poaching on another man’s territory. Except this didn’t feel like poaching.
He’d always viewed Jordan as his. He’d found her first. Loved her first.
His heart stopped for a split second, then revived with a painful thud. Where the hell had that thought come from?
Feeling frustrated, angry, confused, he whirled around, scowling at the cows, yet speaking to Jordan. “Either watch out for the sticker patches or stay put. In fact, that’s the best idea. I’ll take a turn around the property and make a lot better time than if you’re pussyfooting over every little rock in the ground.”
“Well, aren’t we simply charming?” she said sarcastically. “I don’t pussyfoot and I can keep up just fine. Besides, far be it from me to bend your rules.”
“What rules, damn it”. He didn’t remember his gut ever being so twisted in knots.
“To keep me in your sight. If that sends you into flights of lust—well, deal with it.” She arched a brow at one of the cows. “Don’t just stand there. Let’s go.”
“Are you talking to me?” Tanner’s scowl deepened. Her indignation set a match to his desire all over again. And he wasn’t going to be bossed around. If anybody did the bossing, it would be him.
“If I were speaking to you, I’d be looking you square in the face. I was letting the bovine know I’m willing to go along with their bloodhound tendencies. Now, would you like to lead, or shall I?”
He glanced down at her bare feet. Releasing a pent-up breath, he maneuvered her behind him and hoisted her onto his back.
She yelped, struggling to get her legs wrapped around him before she ended up in a heap on the ground. He locked his arms around her knees, preventing her from slipping.
“You’re not carrying me piggyback.”
“Funny. Looks like I’m doing just that.” He tightened his hold on her knees, letting her know she wouldn’t get down unless he wanted her to. It was a petty show of control, but damn it, he was off-balance. And he didn’t like it one bit.
Jordan held on to his shoulders. Short of struggling and sending them both on a headlong course with disaster, she appeared to be stuck. With desire still whipping through her body, the position made her much too aware of him. His long hair tickled her cheek and clung to the perspiration on her neck. Her breasts nestled against his back and with each stomping step he took, the friction at the juncture of her thighs nearly drove her crazy.
Dear heaven, she was a mass of runaway hormones. This was an entirely new side of herself—one she hadn’t known existed. With her limited sexual experience, she viewed the act as so-so. She’d never understood what all the fuss was about.
Now, with only a few kisses—hot kisses, she amended—she was fast revising her opinion on the subject. This could be a very big deal. If she responded this fiercely when they’d only gotten to second base, Lord help her if they went all the way.
Which was out of the question. Get a grip, Jordan.
She was not going to go all the way with Tanner Caldwell. No matter how intriguing the possibility was. She’d hang out until his friend, Sonny, dug up some information. Not a second longer.
Then it was back home for her, to an interrupted marriage that needed to be set back on track, and a loan that would ease financial burdens and save her beloved stables.
Her hands tightened on his shoulders as a foreign sound intruded on her inner tirade, blending softly, pitifully, with the twitter of birds and rustle of leaves in the breeze.
“What was that?”
“Sounded like a whine.”
“Over there.” She let go of one shoulder to point to a pile of dry foliage heaped against the tree trunk. “Oh, Tanner, it’s puppies!”
His hands slipped around to her hips to steady her as he lowered her to the ground. The friction of her body sliding against his strong back nearly derailed her thoughts.
But the sight of the mixed-breed mutt and her puppies stole her attention.
“Careful,” Tanner cautioned as she reached out. “She looks pretty bad. If she’s in pain she might bite.”
Jordan noticed that Tanner didn’t exercise the prudence he warned.
“It’s okay, girl,” he said softly, reaching out to the dog. She appeared to be a mix of shepherd and collie, with a few other unknowns thrown in. “You’re having a rough time all by yourself, aren’t you.”
The gentleness of his tone made Jordan go all soft inside. Those scarred hands stroking so tenderly were at odds with the look of him—long hair shifting across his broad shoulders, his warrior’s body crouched. Dragging her gaze from the tempting sight of him, she squatted by his side, lifting the two puppies that couldn’t have been more than a few days old.
“Oh, they’re so tiny. And weak.”
The mother dog thumped her tail, keeping a nervous, watchful eye on her puppies. As though she’d decided that Jordan was friend rather than foe, she dropped her head wearily to the leaf-strewn earth, her woeful brown eyes trained on Tanner as though she recognized his strength, his capability, and was pleading for help.
Tanner ran his fingers over the dog’s matted fur, checking for injuries. “The puppies are a good size. Looks like she had a tough delivery.” His voice was like a whisper on the breeze, pitched to soothe, so he wouldn’t startle the distraught, weak animal.
“We should get her to a vet.” She inhaled the unique smell of puppy, noticing the scowl on Tanner’s face as he took his eyes off the mother for a moment.
“Don’t look at me that way,” she said, knowing his thoughts before he even spoke. “Surely there’s a town close by that’s safe.” She held the warm babies against her chest, their puppy breath tickling her neck. “Antoinette is counting on us.”
He frowned. “Antoinette?”
“We can call her Annie for short.”
“Why?”
“Because Antoinette can be a tongue twister.”
“No. Why would you name this dog in the first place, and why Annie?”
“Because it’s pretty. Feminine. She’s had a rough time and she deserves a pretty name. I always wanted to name one of my horses Queen Anne, but I haven’t owned one yet who fits.”
“Any other significance here?”
“Like what?”
“You tell me.”
The man was more astute than one had a right to be. “All right. I’ve always wished I had a feminine name. Jordan sounds like a boy’s name.”
“I’ve got to tell you, Blackie, you don’t look anything like a boy.”
The way his eyes traveled over her, she didn’t feel like one, either. Still, she’d spent her life living up to a certain image, the knowledge that she’d never be the son her father had so desperately wanted. The closest he’d been able to come was a unisex name.
“Sight unseen, though, it can create any number of problems. When I enrolled in college, they assigned me a male roommate.”
That flash of a dimple winked again, but he didn’t smile. “Did you keep him? The roommate.”
She buried her face in the fur of the puppies. She hadn’t actually kept the guy...just gone out with him a few times. But the territorial light in Tanner’s eyes—a light that looked an awful lot like jealousy—spurred the imp in her.
&nb
sp; “A true lady never discusses her liaisons.” She should have known better than to poke at him. If his eyes got any hotter, her skimpy clothes would ignite and burn right off her body. “Are we going to find that vet, or not?”
He gave a nod and carefully scooped Annie into his arms. Jordan felt the need to help, to support, but her own hands were occupied with the wiggly offspring.
When she turned, she noticed the cows had caught up. Like nervous sentries in charge of the nation’s gold, they watched the human activity.
“It appears those cows have the blood of Lassie in them. At least the mother does. Don’t you think that’s sweet? Being a mother herself, she was concerned over these babies.”
Tanner just snorted and looked down at her feet. “You’re on your own till we get back to the house.”
Her brow arched. He obviously wasn’t interested in her interpretation of the cow’s behavior—though she herself was feeling fairly proud of explaining the puzzling, uncharacteristic bovine sociability. And why had his tone turned so frigid?
“Despite your ideas to the contrary, I’ve been walking for quite a few years. And speaking of transportation—”
“I didn’t know we were.”
“Walking,” she reminded, noticing how carefully he cradled Annie in his arms, picking his way across the uneven ground so as not to jostle her. “How are we going to manage three dogs and the two of us on a motorcycle?”
“Who said anything about the two of us?”
“I did.” She saw his jaw clench, and gave him a look that warned him she was fully prepared to argue. And win.
“Mr. B. keeps a Jeep in the garage,” he finally said.
“Oh. Isn’t that handy.”
He didn’t comment.
She was walking a few paces in front of him. At his silence, she glanced over her shoulder. “You sure there’s a vet close by? I could probably get Malone up here—he’s the doctor I use at the ranch. He’d be discreet.”