How to Seduce a Texan

by Karen Kelley

  Did they have spa treatments at the ranch? She could certainly use a massage and a facial. Maybe she’d splurge and have a pedicure, too. After all, Marge was paying for it. She might as well get her money’s worth.

  This was going to be the easiest assignment she’d ever had. A little rest and relaxation, and from the way Cal had looked at her, a whole lot of hot sex.

  Yum…this was too, too sweet.

  Man, this was sweet. Cal wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. Nicole Scott had left the top button of her white blouse undone. But had she left it unbuttoned to let the wind cool her skin or because she knew it would stir a man’s blood to the boiling point?

  Sex appeal had oozed from her. From her long, lingering looks to her full, pouty lips. His gut told him Nicole was the kind of woman who didn’t play for keeps. And that was just the kind of relationship he wanted—the kind he was used to. No strings attached. He’d learned his lesson about getting even a little serious. He’d dated Cynthia for a couple of weeks and he still hadn’t shaken her loose. The woman didn’t know the meaning of the word no.

  His cell phone rang as he herded Bessie back into the pasture. He pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open. Jeff? What did he want?

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re about to have a visitor, buddy.”

  Cal’s eyes narrowed. He and Jeff went back a long way. They’d roomed together in college and been friends ever since. Jeff was one of the few sports reporters who actually cut him a little slack.

  Cal scanned the open pasture, not liking the sound of Jeff’s dire prediction, then shook his head. Paranoia didn’t sit well with him.

  “Who?”

  “A reporter.”

  A sour taste formed in his mouth. The press had labeled Cal the bad boy of football. Maybe he hadn’t been a saint, but they’d painted the picture blacker than it was. That, and Cynthia, were the reasons he was at his brother’s ranch. He’d needed a change of scenery so he could get his head screwed on straight.

  But it seemed they’d found him.

  “Who is he?”

  “Not a he. A she, and they call her The Barracuda.”

  “Great.” This was all he needed. “Talk to me.”

  “Nicole Scott. She goes by Nikki.”

  His eyebrows rose. That hot little number in the black sports car? He shook his head. Nah. Sexy, yes. Hot, yes. But a hard-edged reporter? Not likely.

  “I’ve met her. She doesn’t look like a sports reporter.” Jeff had to be pulling his leg. And his brother was probably in on the joke.

  “She’s a looker, isn’t she?” Jeff asked. “I’ve had a few daydreams about her myself, but the one time I asked her out she gave me a cold stare that practically froze me to the spot. Then she informed me that she made it a policy to never date coworkers. But she’s definitely hot looking.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  Jeff’s cynical laugh came through the phone. “Don’t make the same mistake I did and let her sexy looks fool you. She didn’t get the tag Barracuda for nothing. Her parents are two hotshot lawyers. Remember the Snyder case from a few years back?”

  “Isn’t that the one where they had the corporate lawyers crying when they left the courtroom? It was all over the papers.”

  “Her mother and father are the ones who got all that money for the families. Believe me, Nikki Scott takes after her parents. She might have grown up with a silver spoon in her mouth but when she goes after a story, she’s like a starving dog after a meaty bone. She’s the one who went head-to-head with the man running for senator. James Rutledge, remember him?”

  Before Cal could say anything, Jeff continued.

  “She exposed the family that he’d dumped. Hell, he didn’t even pay child support. Let his kid grow up practically in the gutter. She became a bounty hunter or something. It was in all the papers.”

  “If this reporter is so tough, then why is she here? I’d think my story would be the last thing she’d want to cover. Are you sure she’s not here to just relax and take a nice vacation?”

  “I don’t think she would have agreed to do the story if the boss hadn’t talked her into taking it. I bet that’s exactly what happened, too, because Marge came to me first and asked about you, and believe me, there were dollar signs flashing in her eyes. I told her I didn’t have any idea where you were, but apparently, she did some research. And as long as I’ve been at the paper, Nikki Scott has never taken a vacation. If I were you, I’d hightail it to an island far, far away.”

  Cal looked at the cloud of dust Nikki’s car had made. It was just settling back down to the road.

  Nikki had set him up, and what was worse, he’d fallen for it. She was probably laughing her ass off at his gullibility.

  His jaw began to twitch. “No, I won’t be running away.”

  “I don’t like the sound of your voice.”

  Cal chuckled, but his laughter held little humor. “Maybe I’m tired of being crucified by the press—present company excluded. It’s time I gave a little back.”

  “I almost feel sorry for her.”

  “You should.” Cal said good-bye and closed the phone before slipping it back inside his pocket.

  He’d had his fill of people who lied through their pretty, white teeth. Finally, he had the upper hand. He’d give Nikki her story, but she’d damn well earn every word she wrote about him.

  He was going to enjoy this.

  Chapter 2

  Just follow him, that’s what Cal had told Nikki. But where the hell was he taking her? She was starting to get a little nervous. Really, what did she know about this guy, except what she’d researched? Not a whole hell of a lot. He could be a serial killer or something.

  She could see the headlines now: THE DUDE RANCH MURDERER STRIKES AGAIN!

  Now she was being ridiculous. She had a good instinct when it came to people. Not one alarm had gone off when she met Cal earlier today. Nor when he’d joined her at the ranch. Nikki thought she’d caught a subtle difference, not quite as friendly, but shrugged off the feeling. It had been a long drive and she was tired.

  She hit a pothole that almost swallowed her car, effectively drawing her back to the present. That would teach her to pay attention to where she was going and not where she’d been.

  The road they were on was worse than the dirt road she’d traveled to get to the ranch. This wasn’t much more than a path. Her car would definitely need an alignment job when she returned to the city, and detailed from end to end. It looked more gray than black. And it was starting to smell like the country. Her nose wrinkled. And country air was a little too aromatic for her.

  Cal rounded a corner and pulled in front of a dilapidated shack straight out of Deliverance. All it needed to complete the picture was a couple of men on the porch playing banjos and a floppy-eared hound dog dozing between them. Her brain began sending warning signals. This wasn’t good, not good at all.

  She stopped behind Cal and cut the engine before getting out. Dread filled her.

  “Why did we stop here?” she asked.

  “This is the old homestead,” he proudly proclaimed as he walked toward the porch.

  “And your point is?” She eyed the shack with more than a little trepidation. The exterior needed painting—or maybe glue would be better, because it looked as though there wasn’t much holding it together. She had a bad feeling about why he’d stopped in front of it.

  “You said you liked it rough.” He smiled at her, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  Boy, did they have their wires crossed. “You expect me to stay here?” No story was worth living in this run-down hovel. She wanted a resort, massages, pedicures—hot oil sliding over her, a man’s hands massaging it into her body.

  “It’s the only thing available.”

  Her thoughts came to a screeching halt. This was it—the only thing they had vacant?

  She glanced around. Her opinion of the place didn’t get any better. There was
a small barn and pen just off to the right that looked as though it was in better shape than the cabin, a few trees, and that was it. She’d be stuck out here by herself—at least a half mile from the main ranch. Hell, it could’ve been ten miles and it wouldn’t have made a difference. If she screamed, no one would hear her. A cold chill of foreboding ran down her spine.

  This was so wrong. Visions of how she would kill Marge filled her thoughts. If she got an all-city jury, she’d get off, hands down.

  She hugged her middle. “I’m surprised anyone would stay here.”

  He shrugged. “This was my grandparents’ first home. They seemed to manage okay. Some people like returning to the old ways. Did you know there’s a pueblo in Taos, New Mexico, and some of the buildings are over a thousand years old? No utilities, none of the luxuries we take for granted, but there’s a tribe of Indians who live there because they respect the ways of their ancestors.”

  Well, it wasn’t her style. And she wasn’t about to…

  “But then, some people don’t have what it takes.” He casually leaned against the post that held up a slightly warped roof.

  One eyebrow shot upward. Was that a challenge? It had sounded like one. At the very least, he questioned if she could stand up to the rigors of a life without amenities. She’d faced Fort Worth’s mean streets. Even covered a gang war once. She could certainly handle staying in a place that had seen better days and having…what? No microwave?

  “Of course I’m staying. This is exactly what I was looking for. I just questioned whether the cabin would hold up if a strong wind should blow through. I’d hate for it to fall down around me.”

  He studied her. Was that a smidgin of respect she noted in his eyes? If it was, it was gone in the next second.

  “I’m glad you’re happy,” he told her. “Because this is about as rough as it gets.”

  His gaze lingered long enough for her to start feeling a buzz of anticipation. The cabin had thrown her for a loop, but as her body came to life under his mesmerizing eyes, she thought about the fantastic benefits that went along with this assignment.

  “You did say you liked it rough.” His gaze caressed her, sending a flash of heat coursing through her body.

  She nodded, afraid that speaking would be too difficult. Her mouth had gone completely dry as images of entwined naked limbs flashed across her mind. She inhaled a ragged breath. She really needed to get laid more often.

  When he turned and started up the two lopsided steps, the spell was broken. Oh, yeah, he’d definitely earned his reputation as a lady’s man. Her panties had come close to the melting point.

  He nodded toward a triangle of rusted metal that hung from the porch. “If you do get in a bind, just ring that. But don’t forget about the boy who cried wolf. It’s only for emergencies.”

  “I have a cell phone.” She made her way up the steps.

  “It doesn’t always work at the cabin. Unless you want to crawl up on the roof. You might get better reception there, but I don’t suggest it. I’d hate for you to fall off and break something.”

  Okay, what was going on? Her gut told her something had changed since their first meeting. When he’d ridden up on his horse to get the cow back on the other side of the fence, Cal had flirted with her—hadn’t he? He was still flirting with her, and the look in his eyes when he glanced her way was more than heated. Hell, it scorched her skin.

  But he also acted as though he expected her to run screaming back to her car. It was almost as though he hoped she would run screaming back to her car. The mixed messages didn’t make sense.

  Maybe the sun pounding down on her during the drive here had fuddled her brain. Right now, Cal acted as if he was happy she’d picked up the gauntlet—but not in a good way.

  Nonsense of course. She was overly tired. She’d been putting in long hours at work. When was the last time she’d even taken a vacation?

  Her parents had once told her to put in the hours while she was young. There would be time to enjoy the fruits of her labor once she’d established herself. Except for the occasional long weekend, she didn’t take vacations. It was probably time she did.

  She pushed her hair behind her ear. No, she was only imagining his changed attitude toward her. There was no way Cal could know the real reason she was here. Marge was too crafty to let the cat out of the bag, and as far as anyone at the office knew, she was on vacation—completely plausible.

  The drive to the Texas hill country had taken her longer than she’d expected because she’d gotten lost—twice. She was tired. Nothing was going on. When she returned home, she was getting a GPS.

  Cal stepped inside the cabin, then held the door open for her.

  She brought her attention back to the present and walked past him. The interior was even worse. A layer of grime and dust covered the probably once white sheets that draped over the furniture. She was so going to kill Marge for this.

  “The maid’s day off?”

  “Most people who stay here want to do everything—including cleaning the place.” He let his gaze slowly roam over her. “You don’t look the type. I wouldn’t blame you if you left.”

  She waltzed past him. “I don’t mind a little hardship if I get what I’m after.”

  He crossed his arms in front of him. “And what are you after?”

  You. A juicy story.

  No, better not mention that. She didn’t want to scare him off. She had a tendency to be a little too blunt at times. Most men were intimidated by her aggressiveness. She glanced over her shoulder and eyed the football player turned cowboy. He didn’t look like the type who would easily scare.

  “I’m researching a book.” She shrugged. “I’m writing about how the early settlers lived.” That sounded good, but did he buy her lie? She didn’t even blink as his gaze met hers. “The best way to write about it is to live it.” She held her breath to see if he’d buy her story.

  “You’ll certainly be able to do that here,” he finally said before looking away.

  Hook, line, and sinker. She was so good that sometimes she amazed herself. But that’s why they called her the barracuda. Oh, yeah, she knew the tag they’d given her and she was damned proud of it.

  She glanced inside the bedroom. A sheet covered the mattress on the black iron bed to protect it from the dust. Her gaze quickly scanned the room. One window. No curtain.

  Lovely.

  She backed out of the bedroom and went into the kitchen. A mammoth black stove graced one wall. She’d been afraid of this: no microwave.

  Near the stove was a sink with a pump. How archaic. At least she wouldn’t need to haul water. A scarred wooden table sat in the center of the room along with two rope-bottomed, ladder-back chairs.

  Home sweet home. She checked her shudder of revulsion and smiled at him. “This will do just fine.”

  “Then you’re staying?”

  “Of course. I’m a little surprised it’s this rustic, but I’ll manage. I’m tougher than I look.” That should make him think twice about what she was made of. Ha! Nothing scared her, especially living conditions that weren’t up to her standards.

  She sauntered over and opened one of the cabinets. Black, beady eyes stared back at her. She couldn’t move. Her heart thumped loudly inside her chest, and blood drummed inside her ears.

  Except for wild animals. Wild animals scared the hell out of her.

  Run! her brain screamed as the fight-or-flight response triggered. The electrical warning charges zipped across her brain, quickly catching up with her nonmoving limbs. She slammed the cabinet closed and whirled around, throwing herself at Cal.

  He wrapped his arms around her. “Easy now.”

  “Easy?” she squeaked. “There’s a wild animal in the cabinet.” She clung to him.

  After a few seconds, she realized how nice it felt to be this close, especially when she inhaled his spicy aftershave. Not bad, not bad at all. At least, until his chest rumbled. She moved away and glared up at him. He dared t
o laugh? No one had ever laughed at her.

  “There’s a wild animal in the cabinet,” she repeated. How could he be so unconcerned? She wasn’t good around animals. Hell, she’d never even been to the zoo.

  “That’s just Bandit,” he said.

  His attempt to keep a straight face wasn’t working. It wasn’t funny! She planted her hands on her hips. “What the hell is Bandit?”

  He put his hands on her arms, but before she could savor his touch, he set her to the side and ambled over to the cabinet.

  She took a step back. “You aren’t going to open the door, are you? Shouldn’t you call an exterminator or something?”

  “No need.”

  When he opened the cabinet door, she saw that the animal was a fat raccoon, complete with black mask, just like in the pictures she’d seen. Pictures were fine, but up close she could do without a wild animal—or any animal, for that matter.

  “This is Bandit.”

  “Well, make him go away.”

  “How’d you get inside?” Cal asked as the animal waddled backward out of the cabinet, landing with a thump on the counter.

  “Is it tame?” She wasn’t taking any chances and kept her distance.

  He shrugged. “As tame as any wild animal can get. I was staying at the cabin when a pack of wild dogs killed Bandit’s mother and her other babies. I rescued Bandit and he sort of hung around.” He went to the screen door and opened it. Bandit waddled out quite unconcerned he’d nearly scared the living daylights out of her.

  Nikki hugged her middle. “But he doesn’t actually live here. I mean, in the cabin. Right?”

  His grin was slow, warming her blood. “Why? He doesn’t eat much.”

  Okay, this story didn’t look quite so easy. People, she could handle, but she knew nothing about animals. She’d never even had a dog or cat when she was growing up. Her parents had said they didn’t have the time to devote to a house pet, and they couldn’t very well ask the maid to clean up after one. They were right, of course.