Wanting You

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Wanting You Page 7

by Nan Ryan


  “Another time,” Brit said noncommittally.

  He mounted his iron gray, turned him in a semicircle and rode away with his best buddy frowning after him. Buck was puzzled by Brit’s strange behavior. Lately, Brit never wanted to go into town, and that wasn’t like him. Buck wondered what was bothering him.

  Brit knew a shortcut down to the mansion. It was rarely used because it was extremely treacherous, but he trusted his sure-footed stallion. He’d take the route and be at the house in less than an hour. Man and stallion soon left the broad, high-country pasture behind and started the rocky descent out of the canyon and off the mountain.

  Upon reaching the most dangerous section of the trail down, Brit spoke softly to his stallion and guided the big beast out onto a narrow jutting shelf of rock spanning the south face of the mountain. The ledge, steadily descending, was barely three feet wide. One misstep, one loose pebble causing a misplaced hoof, and man and horse would fall to their deaths far below.

  Brit was not worried. Trusting his dependable stallion completely, he sat relaxed in the saddle, hand loose on the reins. The treacherous trail finally reached a much wider shelf of rock at a spot known as Wilderness Ridge.

  At the ridge, Brit abruptly pulled up on Captain. Squinting, his heart beginning to pound alarmingly, he kneed the iron gray farther out onto a rocky overhang, which afforded an unobstructed view of Manzanita Springs not fifty feet below. The water shimmered in the sun like a million tiny mirrors. But it was not the water that arrested Brit’s attention.

  It was the beautiful girl sleeping on the rocks in the sun. She looked almost naked in a flimsy white camisole and skimpy underpants, both of which were wet and sticking to her flesh.

  Brit swallowed hard as he stared at her, entranced. The thin batiste fabric clung wetly to the creamy curves of her rounded breasts, the twin points of her rosy nipples clearly outlined.

  Her delicate ribs and flat belly were well defined, as was the shadowed triangle of thick gold curls between her pale thighs. Her long hair was fanned out around her head, gleaming golden in the sunlight. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted.

  She was the most beautiful creature Brit had ever seen.

  His initial impulse was to ride straight down to her, grab her up and kiss her senseless. He shuddered and swiftly dismissed the insane idea. She might have that mean-looking, turquoise-handled knife with her.

  Such a shame. Here she was, all gleaming wet, nearly naked and stretched out below him like an exotic offering from the gods of love. And he couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t even go down to where she was.

  Frowning, Brit sat there atop his stallion, gazing down on the beautiful woman to whom he longed to make love, wondering if it was ever going to happen. He was beginning to doubt it. He was at a loss. She didn’t behave as other women did, didn’t respond to him like she should have. Yet he knew she was attracted to him. As much as she tried to hide it, he was not deceived. She was as sexually aware of him as he was of her.

  But obviously she was bound and determined not to let anything happen between them.

  Brit ground his teeth in frustration. Perspiration dotted his hairline and a vein throbbed on his forehead.

  If she even knew that he was up here right now, spying on her, she’d have a fit. Never speak to him again. Call him a dirty, disgusting voyeur who—who…

  Abruptly Brit began to smile wickedly as a devilish idea suddenly came to him, a plan that was foolproof. His dark eyes began to twinkle with mischief and his smile broadened.

  Brit took one last long, lecherous look at the near-naked woman below, then quietly backed the iron gray off the rocky ledge and carefully skirted the springs on his way down to the ranch house.

  At the mansion, LaDextra fussed over him and told him she’d send a vaquero to get young Dr. McCelland to come take a look at his injured hand.

  Brit wouldn’t hear of it. “I don’t need a doctor,” he assured her, heading for the kitchen. “A little iodine will fix me right up.”

  Nodding, LaDextra said, “I’ll get Connie.”

  LaDextra stood over them as Connie carefully cleaned the puncture wounds on Brit’s fingers, generously painted them with iodine, then wrapped his hand in a clean white bandage.

  Eyeing the bandage at dinner that evening, Anna wondered, miserably, if this meant he would be lurking around the house for the next few days. The prospect automatically brought a frown to her face.

  “Something bothering you, Anna?” Brit’s smooth baritone voice broke into her troubled thoughts.

  “No,” she replied too hastily. “Certainly not.”

  Smiling then, knowing exactly what she was thinking, Brit mentioned casually, “This hand’s a little sore, but it won’t slow me down. I’ll ride on down to Fort Davis tomorrow as planned to see about that new army beef contract.”

  “Now, Brit,” LaDextra mildly scolded, “there’s no need for that. Why don’t you wait a few days, let those fingers heal?” She turned and looked at the attorney. “You tell him, Will.”

  “Maybe you should listen to LaDextra, Brit,” Will said evenly. “That beef contract can wait. Or you could send one of the division bosses down to the fort.”

  Brit looked thoughtful, as if he were mulling it over in his mind. Then he looked directly at Anna and asked, “What do you think, Anna? Should I go or stay?”

  You can go to blazes for all I care. Sweetly she said, “I’m sure you know better than any of us how badly your hand is hurt.”

  “Is that a yes or a no?” he needled.

  “Make up your own mind!” she snapped.

  While Will and LaDextra exchanged puzzled looks at her harsh tone of voice, Brit merely grinned, amused.

  He drawled, “Yep, I’ll just ride on down to the fort tomorrow.” He looked pointedly at Anna when he added, “Probably won’t be back for a couple of days.”

  Anna returned to the springs the very next afternoon.

  Smiling as she approached the stands of thick green willows enclosing the cool, sparkling waters, she felt deliciously wicked. She had decided that since no one else ever came to the springs, she would, this very day, take everything off.

  She never had before. She had always left on her underwear. Not today. Today she meant to experience the provocative pleasure of swimming totally nude!

  The only person who posed any kind of threat was miles away from the ranch. Brit would be gone—thank God—for at least today and tonight, leaving her free to relax and enjoy herself.

  Anna picked her way through the tall willows. Soon she stepped out into the large clearing, dropped her leather-bound book and blanket to the sun-heated rocks and kicked off her shoes. She was starting to unbutton her dress when she turned her head and saw him.

  She almost had a heart attack.

  Sound asleep, Brit Caruth lay stretched out on a huge flat rock, sunning himself like a big, sleek jungle cat.

  Naked save for a battered Stetson hat placed strategically over his groin, he was unquestionably the embodiment of stark masculine beauty.

  Anna couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  He looked like a perfectly carved Greek statue, all bare and bronzed and lean and muscular. Her throat gone dry, her heartbeat erratic, she warily studied his dark, chiseled face. Long sooty lashes were closed over those beautiful dark eyes. High, prominent cheekbones cast shadows on his smooth tanned cheeks. His perfectly shaped mouth, in repose, was soft, sensual, tempting.

  Anna’s wide-eyed gaze moved cautiously down from his handsome face to his tanned throat and bare, sculpted shoulders. She noted the bulge of his hard biceps, the bands of muscle that shaped the wide, symmetrical chest that tapered to a trim, hard waist.

  Her fascinated gaze slowly slid lower.

  Only his groin was covered. Everything else was bare. That splendid masculine body was fully exposed to her eager eyes. Anna stared at the well-molded juncture where his hard muscled thigh joined his slim hip. She studied the prominent hipbones. The flat,
drum-tight brown belly. The thick line of raven hair leading down from his navel. The dark, shadowy hint of inky curls peeking out from beneath the well-placed Stetson.

  Swallowing hard, Anna stared at the hat and found her herself guiltily wishing that it was not there. She had an overwhelming desire to go to him, fall to her knees and lift the Stetson so that she could see everything.

  She didn’t dare.

  Her breath short, she allowed her gaze to travel on down his long, muscled legs to his bare brown feet.

  Then she started back up.

  And all the while she stared at him, she was telling herself that she had better turn away right now and leave. Go before he woke and caught her looking at him.

  But he was so brown and so beautiful, and, sleeping as he was, harmless.

  Anna edged closer, admiring him, desiring him. How, she wondered, would it feel to take off her clothes and stretch out beside him? To lie there naked in the warm caressing sun with him? To feel his heated bronzed body touching her own?

  Her nervous gaze climbed slowly back up his long, lean frame, returning finally to his face.

  And she froze, horrified.

  Brit’s dark, hooded eyes were open and looking straight at her. For a long tense moment, they stared at each other in silence.

  It was Brit who finally broke the spell.

  He drawled lazily, “Usually I stand to acknowledge the presence of a lady, but…”

  “Don’t you dare get up!” she warned. Then added accusingly, “What are you doing here? You said you were going to Fort Davis today!”

  Brit shrugged his bare, tanned shoulders. “Changed my mind. Decided I’d better take care of these injured fingers.” He lifted his bandaged right hand.

  Anna’s own hands went to her hips and her eyes flashed with anger when she said, “You did this on purpose!”

  “Did what?” He was all little-boy innocence.

  “Led me to believe you would be away from the ranch today,” she said heatedly. “You never meant to go to the fort. You intended all along to come here and…and ogle me. Catch me without my clothes!”

  Brit laughed. “You’ve got it backward, haven’t you, sweetheart? You’re the one who intruded on my privacy, caught me naked and leered at me.”

  “I did not! I would never leer at—”

  “I don’t mind,” he told her, smiling wickedly. “Look to your heart’s content.”

  “I do not want to look at your…at your…”

  “Well, I sure want to look at yours,” he coolly interjected. “Why don’t you just shed all those hot sticky clothes and lie down here beside me?”

  Her face now a bright, flaming scarlet, Anna, backing away, shouted angrily, “Are you out of your mind?”

  “Just about,” Brit said truthfully. “You’re driving me crazy, Anna.”

  Ten

  Furious and upset, Anna hurriedly spun away. She slammed headlong through the thick willows, clawing at the branches slapping her arms and legs, desperate to get away, to reach safety.

  Dislodging pebbles and stirring up dust, she scrambled swiftly down the mountainside, feeling as if Satan himself were after her.

  And, in a way, he was.

  Brit Caruth was surely the devil incarnate. A handsome, seductive, dangerous demon who took evil delight in tempting and tormenting her. The sexy, sinister son of a bitch meant to seduce her, corrupt her, rob her of her virtue and her will, and strip her of her inheritance.

  This latest incident at the springs would not be the last of his diabolic schemes to slowly, surely chip away at her defenses. The base, brazen bastard wouldn’t rest until she surrendered.

  “That’s not going to happen!” she told him under her breath. “Never, never, never!”

  Fighting back threatening tears of frustration, Anna reached the border of the mansion’s manicured back terrace. She stopped to catch her breath and compose herself. She straightened her dress, smoothed her hair and remembered, suddenly, that she had left her book at the springs. Cold fear clutched her chest. Would Brit bring it back? And if he did, would he quietly give it to her or would he shame her by letting LaDextra and the entire Regent household know that the two of them had been at the springs together?

  Anna took a deep breath, crossed the vast terraced lawn and slipped in the back door. She immediately heard voices. She looked down the long, wide corridor and saw young Dr. McCelland handing his suit coat to a servant.

  Forcing herself to smile, Anna went to greet him.

  “Hello, Dr. McCelland,” she said, offering her hand.

  “Miss Wright.” said the doctor, his eyes immediately lighting up and a shy, boyish smile touching his lips. He shook her hand gently, as if it might break.

  Dr. J. Bryan McCelland Jr., only son of the recently retired Dr. J. Bryan McCelland Sr., looked much younger than his thirty-two years. A very shy, very nice man, he was barely taller than she. The slimly built physician had sandy hair, a fair complexion and green eyes that lit up noticeably each time he looked at Anna.

  “What brings you to the ranch today, Doctor?” Anna inquired politely, smiling at him.

  “Just a routine visit to LaDextra,” he said, his shy smile still very much in evidence. “I spent the morning down at the bunkhouse and at the married ranch hands’ quarters—checking on the men, their wives and children, tending a few sick people. Thought I might as well stop by at the house since I was out this way.”

  “Yes, of course,” Anna said, then extended her hand toward LaDextra’s room. Accompanying him down the corridor, she said, “You see to the health of the hired hands as well as…?”

  “Yes, yes I do. I come out here every couple of weeks and I also travel to each of the division headquarters at least once or twice a month.”

  “I see,” Anna replied with interest. “So the cowboys and vaqueros show up at division headquarters if they need medical attention?”

  Dr. McCelland nodded. “Their wives and children as well.”

  Anna again smiled. “You must be a very busy physician.”

  The bashful young doctor smiled back at her. “Not so busy that I’d miss the big Fourth of July celebration.” He turned a pale shade of pink when he said, “You will be there, won’t you?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course.”

  “The biggest blowout in all Texas!”

  That’s how Sally Horner described The Regent’s annual Fourth of July celebration as she and Anna lay across Anna’s bed the next afternoon.

  “Everybody comes,” she told Anna, throwing out her arms in a wide encompassing gesture. “The Regent cowboys and vaqueros and their families will all be there. Plus the entire population of Regentville turns out for the festivities. And there are old friends of LaDextra’s who come from as far away as the Panhandle, El Paso, Pecos and San Antonio.” She laughed and warned, “Be prepared to have a houseful of overnight guests.”

  “LaDextra mentioned the celebration at dinner last night. She said that I would go into town with her some afternoon next week to make the arrangements and to get a new dress for the occasion.”

  Sally nodded. “I’ve already picked out a lovely yellow piqué dress that definitely makes me look slimmer and quite sophisticated as well.” Twisting a reddish-brown curl, she mused, “We’ll want to look our very best since every eligible bachelor in southwest Texas will be there.” She glanced at Anna, then suddenly frowned. “Heck, you needn’t worry. You’d look good in anything.” Sally sighed enviously.

  Ignoring the statement and the sigh, Anna said, “So this Fourth of July festival is a Regent tradition?”

  “Yes, indeedy,” Sally replied. “For as long as I can remember I’ve been coming out to the ranch for the Fourth. It’s such fun, Anna, you’ll absolutely love it. Games and gossiping and food and flirting and champagne and fireworks and dancing and—”

  “Dancing?” Anna interrupted.

  “Yes, of course. Everyone dances the night away.” Sally’s eyebrows lifted. “What? What
is it? Why are you making a face?”

  “I don’t know how to dance,” stated Anna dejectedly. “The sisters educated me, but dancing was not part of the curriculum.”

  “Is that all?” Sally said. “Don’t worry. We’ve got two full weeks before the Fourth. I’ll teach you to dance. There’s nothing to it.” She jumped up and raced across the room to the phonograph player. She cranked it up and said, “Heck, let’s get started.”

  The dance lessons began that very afternoon in Anna’s spacious bedroom. The somewhat scratchy sound of the music, as well as their clear girlish laughter, floated down the stairs to LaDextra’s ground floor sitting room. The old woman smiled with genuine pleasure at hearing her beautiful young granddaughter laughing, happy.

  Her eyes were closed, but LaDextra was still smiling when, half an hour later, the two young women came racing down the stairs, giggling and whispering. Sweet, sweet music to LaDextra’s ears.

  The young women burst out the door and onto the front gallery. They were rushing down the sidewalk when Sally suddenly stopped and grabbed Anna’s arm.

  “Look who’s coming!” she said excitedly.

  “Who?” Anna asked. She lifted a hand to shade her eyes, looked down the long pebbled drive, but saw no one.

  “Over there!” Sally pointed to a couple of mounted horsemen a hundred yards away, cantering across the broad pasture directly toward the house. “It’s Brit and Buck Shanahan. Do you suppose I’d ever have a chance with Buck? He’s not as good-looking as Brit, but—”

  “I have to go inside,” Anna interrupted, anxiously pulling free of Sally’s grip.

  “Go inside?” Sally was nonplussed. “And miss a chance to flirt with these two handsome cowhands? You could at least wait until—Anna…!”

  But Anna was already to the gallery and she didn’t look back. She disappeared inside. Shrugging, Sally sighed, headed for her one-horse gig, waving madly at the approaching horsemen.

  The two men waved back at Sally.

 

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