China always erred on the side of caution when it came to her newborns. She kept mother and baby in a separate enclosure until she knew the foal nursed properly. Once the foal had properly bonded with its mother, she released them to the big pasture for a few months.
As far as weaning went, that was entirely up to the foal. This youngster might start nibbling grass and grain as soon as she noticed them, but removing China Love from her mother meant an entirely different thing. China would do that as gently as possible. Fortunately, she had plenty of acreage to fence off a portion of the pasture for the foals. That enabled them to graze alongside their mothers without being able to nurse. It made for less trauma to the foals and China was all about happy babies.
Maverick nodded to Ebony. “Isn’t he your stud?”
China nodded. “I have three stallions. Hex is my white and Aces Wild is my bay. Why?”
Kyrie still wore Maverick’s baseball cap, but he raised an automatic hand to his forehead, as if it were still there. All he touched were his sunglasses perched on his head. At least he didn’t push them down. “Maybe I’m wrong, but don’t stallions fight with other horses?”
“They fight with other stallions, but I don’t let Ebony have free run of this place, if that’s what you’re thinking. He shares a separate corral with Hex and Aces Wild. He’s not allowed to breed unless I say so.”
He’s not allowed to breed. Ha. To a greenhorn, that probably sounded like she turned into some weird dominatrix with leather pants, stiletto heels and a whip come breeding time. She chuckled quietly to herself. It sounded like something Leezel would’ve said.
Maverick didn’t even crack a smile at that salacious comment.
She tossed a brush to him and busied herself with grooming Ebony’s sleek flank so she wouldn’t have to look Maverick in the eye. The whole idea of horse breeding was a risky conversation with a good-looking guy, but she continued if only to tease. This guy needed to relax. “Some breeders think artificial insemination is the only way, but it’s too much trouble if you ask me. I like the good old-fashioned method myself.”
Maverick stood diligently at Star’s side, brushing long strokes down the horse’s neck and chest while he took in the latest chapter of Horses 101. For a fleeting second, she thought of those strong, capable hands smoothing over her shoulders and rubbing her back. Maybe other parts, too.
“So you lock ’em up in the same corral or something when it’s, ah, time?” His question snatched her mind back to the business of horse breeding. Kind of.
“Umm, yeah.” She forced herself to focus, thankful Ebony hadn’t picked up on her nervousness. Brushing her horses usually soothed and relaxed her, but right now her heart thumped like a jackrabbit’s hind leg in a patch of spring clover. “The mares are only receptive at certain times of the year. A stallion knows when it’s their time better than me. I let them figure it out for themselves. The boys have free run of the pasture when it’s time, and so far, so good.”
Maverick sniffed at that comment.
She looked up to see what he thought, but he ignored her, intent on brushing Star, one sure stroke after another.
“How about Gorgeous?” he asked without turning around. “You gonna let her and the foal loose tonight?”
“You mean China Love?” China leaned around Ebony’s big chest to peer at Maverick. He nodded, not taking the bait she’d just tossed his way. “Are you upset that I sold her?”
He shrugged as if he didn’t care, but she knew better. She had caught the disappointment in his voice when he questioned earlier if she was going to sell all the foals.
“Well, are you or not?”
“Don’t matter to me one way or the other.”
Bet me. It matters. You just won’t let it show.
He faced away from her, his back toward her as he worked, but she liked the view. He had moved to Star’s hindquarters, still taking long even strokes that had quite the calming effect on the big Percheron. Star stood with his eyes closed, one hoof pointed into the ground like a tiptoe.
But China noticed something else again. Maverick’s firm ass and long legs. He didn’t wear cowboy boots, more like work boots with worn heels and scuffed toes. His jeans were threadbare on the butt, as if he had about worn them out. The hems were frayed. But those shoulders. Damned if he didn’t make that worn-out shirt look good.
She swallowed hard. A dark tan colored the skin showing between his hair and collar. Her mind went wandering to the rest of his body. Farmer’s tan or not, watching the ripple of his back muscles while he brushed lazy Star created a wave of heat up her legs and into her stomach.
“Well?”
“I’m sorry.” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. For the life of her, China couldn’t remember what he had asked. “Umm, what?”
“You’re going to keep Gorgeous and the foal separate from the rest of the horses for a couple more weeks, aren’t you?” He raised a stern brow as he repeated his concern.
“Yes. Of course. I do that with all my foals. Besides, China Love is special.” She had to smile. This was the longest conversation she and Maverick had had.
After a couple of moments of quiet brushing, she voiced a tempting thought. “Hmm. Maybe I could persuade Mr. Foster to let me keep her. I’m sure he would be just as happy with another one of my kids. Maybe Star. He would be ready to pull the trolley this summer.”
She let that comment hang until Maverick cleared his throat. When she turned to see what he wanted, her hands were suddenly flat on his chest, the brush included.
China gulped, startled she hadn’t heard him approach. He didn’t make any attempt to step back and give her more space. She lifted her hands from his very muscular pecs. He took a step closer. She pressed her back against Ebony’s side, pleased that Maverick had taken a first move. If that was what this was. Sure felt like it.
She fisted her fingers between them instead of touching him again like she wanted. That chest was solid. Hard. Darn, but he filled her line of sight. Two very formidable Percherons were out there. Somewhere. She couldn’t see either of them. Just him. Just the plaid and the coffee-brown windows to this man’s soul.
She had to crane her neck to look up at him. Z would call him a tall drink of water. She licked her bottom lip, thirsty for a sip of some of that water.
Her heart stalled. Looking all the way up at him while he looked all the way down at her sent a surge of quivering heat up through the floorboards, through the soles of her boots and into her legs. She was no tiny little dewdrop of a girl. She smelled like horse twenty-four-seven. What the hell was that man looking at?
His gaze fell to her mouth. He blinked. The corners of his lips didn’t offer the hint of a smile breaking out. She held her breath, frozen as he scanned her every feature. Her brows. The line of her nose. Her lips. His eyes flickered down her neck to her top button. Damn him. He knew what lay beneath that top button and she was glad he did.
Her fingers itched to trace the hard edges of his face, so many angles and corners. The dark line of his furrowed brows. The scruffy shadow that graced his chin and jaw.
He gave not a hint of emotion away. His eyes moved back to hers and suddenly, there wasn’t enough air in the whole damned barn. She might as well have been looking at a rock. On a mountain. Mount Everest. Where the air was really, really thin. Where oxygen didn’t exist. Only—him.
One of them should step back, and it probably should be her. Bosses should do those kinds of things. They should be smart.
She didn’t.
She couldn’t.
She had been caught in a tantalizing trap of do or dare, the one she had started by needling him about keeping the foal. Only now—
Oh. My. Hell. He’s glorious.
Indecision darkened his face. His brows crinkled just a titch. Very slowly, he leaned toward her.
China forgot how to breathe. She couldn’t, not with her heart pounding up her throat. It was happening right then and there, and she wanted
it with every tingling nerve in her body. She wanted this man. This incredible now.
He circled the back of her neck with a very gentle hand, but paused, his breath already on her chin, and his eyes searching hers for an eternity. His other hand slid down to her side. His thumb smoothed circles on her bare stomach.
“What?” she asked in an unusually hoarse voice. Kiss me, damn you. Don’t stop. Not now. Not when you’ve come this close.
“May I?” he asked, his voice as gravelly as hers.
She grabbed him by his damned collar and closed the gap. White-hot heat melted their lips together. She shut her eyes as the taste of Maverick’s mouth and tongue erased every last misgiving. Her lungs pulled in the breath he breathed, needing more. The delicious taste of him. Wintergreen. The smell of him. A hint of manly sweat mingled with the great outdoors.
Yes!
The thunderstorm racing through China’s veins burned any apprehension clean clear away. Kyrie might see them. Let her look. She’s seen worse.
He murmured deep in his chest and lifted China off the floor and into his arms, boots and all. She wrapped her legs around his waist, surprised when he didn’t shift to catch her. Just clutched the cheeks of her ass in a firm, masculine grip.
A rumbling groan ground out of him. The barn rafters faded from view. Nothing else existed, only the feel of his iron bands wrapped around her, and the taste of his tongue making intimate love with hers. His fingers traced the seam up the crack of her ass as he pressed her against his zipper.
Deep, cleansing fire rippled up through her core in a tantalizing wave that played every taut nerve in her body like a harp. She moaned, surprised at the response his fingers sparked in her deepest depths of her damned near virgin body. Heat pooled at her core. The sensible woman she thought she was changed into an insatiable creature, a predator starved for the male body pressed against hers. Ready to devour him.
He eased his lips from hers and gently tucked her head under his chin, one hand still cupping her bottom. This man was handling her, and she liked it. A lot.
Oh. My. God. His heart’s pounding, too. The intensity of the moment must have surprised him as much as her. She stilled to gather her wits, listening to the runaway racehorse inside his ribcage. When her feet finally touched the earth, he held her tight. She couldn’t have stood on her own two feet if she wanted to. Not yet.
She cringed. It had been so long since any man had dared approach her, much less taken her by storm like Maverick did. Had she just made a total fool of herself? Holy smokes. She had never felt this delicate or treasured before. He had simply, wonderfully, oh my goodness—kissed the living hell out of me.
His manly strength overpowered her. She leaned into the depth of his arms, surprised how much she liked the smell and feel of him.
“You okay?” he asked quietly, his breathing heavy at the top of her head.
She stayed where she was, content to know he couldn’t catch his breath, either. He was warm and strong and she couldn’t imagine a better place to be than encircled by him.
Ebony nickered. China came back to her senses. There was still work to be done. This tender, magical moment was nearly over. She needed to get the stallion back into his corral before the mares showed up. In season or not, she didn’t need him getting frisky. But she didn’t want to move, not if it took her out of Maverick’s firm hold.
He stoked one hand down the center of her back. It slid over her bare skin, coming to rest at her waist while he held her tight with the other arm. Two fingers slid under her belt, then beneath her panties, pointing down to her tailbone. And there he stopped.
She squeezed her eyes tight as desire coursed strong and hot. Every muscle in her body clenched in agreement with those two wayward fingers. Thrumming with need, she wanted his fingers to keep going. She ached. It was all she could do to not give into the moment. Kyrie was close by with her kittens and... and...
Oh, yes. I have to tend to my stallion. My, um, other stallion. All her talk about horse breeding had backfired on her. Ebony might not be frisky, but she sure as hell was.
“I really should take Ebony back to his corral,” she muttered as her fingers wandered over Maverick’s hard chest muscles again. The feel of his nipples beneath the plaid pockets brought another wiggling surge of lust through her body. This man was an addiction she wanted very much to feed for a long and satisfying time. Every last inch of him. With her tongue. Her lips. Her mouth.
Instead, she asked, “Can you, umm, take Kyrie up to the house for me? I’ll be right there.”
He didn’t release her. Didn’t even hint that he might. Instead he tipped her chin up with those same two fingers that had just been in her pants. He peered into her eyes. The man didn’t smile.
All of her lust-filled thoughts crashed to a halt. Have I made a fool of myself? No. Don’t spoil this, too. Don’t say goodbye. Don’t tell me you’re leaving. Not yet.
“I happen to like the old-fashioned method myself,” he said quietly. He kissed her lightly on her forehead, and—ahhhhh! He was killing her!
He set her back a half step, his hands still comfortable on her hips. She shivered. Yes. He wanted her, too. She could read it in his eyes, and she felt it in the strong fingers still latched onto her. Pinpoint welding. That was what bound them together for now. Each of his fingertips had somehow melted her to him.
Ebony snorted. He had gotten a whiff of the mares. Well, hold your horses, Ebony old buddy, because it’s my turn. I’ve just gotten a good whiff of Maverick.
Common sense prevailed. Ebony came first.
“I really have to go,” she whispered. “The mares. The stallions...”
Tendrils of molten desire lingered between them. “That whole breeding thing, huh?”
She nodded because she couldn’t speak. Yeah, that whole wild, wonderful breeding thing. Wow.
He stepped back into polite mode. “I’ll find Kyrie. She’s around here somewhere.”
“Uh huh.” China couldn’t break his gaze. She didn’t want to look away, but Ebony’s hoof striking the wooden floor broke the spell. He’d picked up the mare’s scent like she had picked up Maverick’s. Slightly sweaty. Definitely masculine. Delightfully carnal. Her idea of heaven.
She stepped away from Maverick and latched onto Ebony’s halter. With one last look, she led the horse away and left Maverick to search for Kyrie. She wasn’t worried. This man was a rock of safety. He’d find Kyrie.
No sooner thought than done. Her niece darted out of nowhere and ran full bore into Maverick’s arms. He crouched to catch her, then swung her high over his head, and China was a goner. What a sight to see that baby enamored with a real man instead of manipulated by her biological creep of a father.
China tugged Ebony across the yard behind the barn and into his enclosed pasture with Aces Wild, and Hex. With every step away from Maverick, reality settled in. Bottom line, she had never given her heart to anyone, not with the responsibilities of the ranch and her equine kids. Until now, they had been enough. A woman who worked from sunup to sundown, then dealt with a wagon full of Leezel’s family problems, didn’t take time for foolish things like romance or boyfriends. Life didn’t work that way. Either you played the field or the game went on without you. She had made her choice long ago and the ranch had won.
China glanced behind her to see her niece sitting on Maverick’s shoulder, his cap on her head while he took the porch steps two at a time. Kyrie had already fallen for him. Star and Gorgeous, too. China Love for sure. Damn. The day he up and left, he would break all of their hearts.
Mine, too.
Chapter Thirteen
Why the hell did I do that?
Maverick knocked on the ranch house door while Kyrie peered down at him from her lofty perch. Kissing China hadn’t been on his agenda. It wasn’t smart. Not as a ranch hand or as a drifter. Or whatever the hell he was. Yet he had done it. Like a lovesick fool, he’d done it, damn it to hell. Hadn’t been able to help himself was mo
re like it. Didn’t want to try when she turned into his arms like she had.
One touch of that silken skin on her back and he lost it. One whiff of her breath, the fragrance of her shampoo, one taste of the honey of her lips, and—shit. All the more reason to pack up and leave now, before things got crazy. This damned woman had gotten under his skin.
He scrolled his gaze over the wide yard between the barn and the bunkhouse. This place. So quiet. Too peaceful. Everything he wanted, but everything he was running away from, too.
Damn it. I’m not staying.
Maverick swung Kyrie to her feet. Leezel might not be back yet, so he knocked again, irritated at himself for jumping the gun and damned near jumping China, too. She just seemed so—genuine. And those damned blue eyes of hers were charged with two-twenty-volts of pure zest for life. Honesty, too. She had a way of looking through him. Of seeing behind his mask, and damn it, being with her felt like he was suddenly standing on quicksand. Sliding into what, he didn’t know. Didn’t want to even think about.
She seemed to love everything in her life, and why shouldn’t she? She had centered her soul in what mattered, even if it was in the backwoods of Wyoming. Hell, even the color of her eyes seemed part of the wild land she called home. The Wild Wolf resonated China Wolf right on down to the dust on the porch railing.
“Is you mad?” Kyrie asked.
He glanced down at the little girl squeezing the little finger of his left hand. “Me? No. Why would I be mad?” Frustrated as hell, yes. Mad, no.
Her lower lip stuck out. The little tyke was a miniature China right down to her cowboy boots. “Cuz your eyes wook kinda scary to me.”
He lifted one brow in a scary tease. “How about now? Do I look scarier?”
“Yes!” she shrieked and giggled. “Do it again.”
“How about if we sit on the porch swing and wait for your Aunt China? It looks like your mother’s not home yet.”
“Okay.” Kyrie scrambled up on the swing and patted the slats on the bench. “Come on. Les swing.”
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