Ranger's Wild Woman Cowboys By The Dozen

by Tina Leonard

Ranger took her in at a glance, his eyes nearly as bright as the candleglow. “Hannah,” he said, “I’d like to change your mind about ‘no biggie.”’

  Her knees trembled a little at the intense look in his eyes. She felt like prey stumbled upon by a wolf.

  “And then there’s that matter of my psychotic brain twitch,” he said, drawing closer. “Now, psychosis is something I’ve never been diagnosed with before, and I was wondering,” he said, taking hold of her hand, “if the nurse who nursed me in the cave is in? Because I haven’t thanked her yet for taking such good care of me.”

  He took her face between his palms, and Hannah’s tremble kicked up to tremor. The pieces of her broken heart rattled against each other with expectation, with hope. Gently, he brushed his lips against hers, never taking his eyes from her astonished gaze.

  “You look scared,” he murmured. “We’ve kissed before, remember?”

  “Peck,” she said. “You called it a peck.”

  “Well, this time,” he said, lowering his face toward hers again, “this time, it’s a kiss. And it’s going to be a ‘biggie.”’

  Chapter Six

  “Wait,” she said, moving her head back just before Ranger could kiss her, hating that she had to do it and yet knowing she had no choice. She couldn’t allow this romantic hideaway to lure her into a spell. “This is a bad idea.”

  “No, it’s not. Hold still.” He winked at her, then drew her forward again.

  “No. I’m serious, Ranger.” She pulled away, making certain his hands fell from her face and completely broke their contact. “One of us has to be.”

  “I’m serious. I seriously want to kiss you.”

  “I know. Me. And Cissy. And whoever comes along next.”

  “Not that I’m arguing the point, but you didn’t exactly seem reluctant before.”

  She gazed at him before going to sit on the plump sofa, in a spot where his charm couldn’t work on her. “Hey, I recognize boredom. Remember me? I’m going to work on a riverboat to give me a change of scenery.”

  “I’m not bored.”

  “You’re the king of bored. You left the ranch because you were bored. You decided to join the military on a whim, knowing you were probably too old to be accepted. But actually, you just wanted an excuse to leave.”

  “You’re going deep on me again. This is in the same category with the brain twitch or whatever it was.”

  “Not really. Boredom is the same reason you kissed Cissy, and it didn’t mean anything. And then me, and that didn’t mean anything, either. You’re having a midlife crisis.”

  “Midlife crisis?”

  “That’s what I think.”

  “From your powers of observation as a hair-dresser.”

  He was irritated, but she’d expected that. She was, too.

  “And my observation as a card dealer. I learned to read people. It’s not too hard to read that you’re bored. And I don’t have a sign on me that says, ‘Looking for fun? Hang out here for a while.”’

  He sighed. “Okay. You’re right. It was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have tried to force a romantic issue.”

  She watched him carefully. “You agree with me? Really?”

  “This time, yes.”

  “I mean, I don’t even know you,” she pointed out.

  “Well, you knew me well enough to kiss me before.”

  “You said peck. We pecked.”

  “Pecking is between friends.”

  “Can be. Yes.” She nodded emphatically. “Very sisterly, even.”

  “Gotcha.” He sat on the sofa at the opposite end and crossed his legs up on the table. “So, you ready for me to warm up Hawk’s truck?”

  She blinked. He’d probably spent ten minutes lighting all these candles. “You want to leave? Do you feel up to it?”

  “Sure. If you do.”

  The dinner smelled good, and the cabin was warm and pretty. But she really didn’t think staying here with Ranger was in her best interest. He looked long and lean in his jeans, reclining on the sofa, and she had been lying anyway about not wanting to kiss him. Jumping his bones would be a sport of choice, but she’d sworn off being a boredom chaser, so now she had to stick to her guns. “I’m ready if you are.”

  He closed his eyes. “I have a slight headache,” he murmured.

  “I can drive, if you don’t feel well.” She leaned forward to peer at him.

  A second later, a snore escaped him. Her eyes widened. Dinner in the oven, candles ablaze with romanticism, and he was so bored he’d fallen asleep. This was not a good sign. “Ranger,” she whispered. “Ranger! Don’t go to sleep on me!”

  He didn’t move, except for a totally relaxed snore.

  “Great.” Actually, he had every reason to be exhausted. He’d been very sick, and he hadn’t slept comfortably in a few days. “So much for me being your good medicine,” she muttered. “More like a sleeping pill.”

  Still, that left her free to munch on Hawk’s dinner. Alone. She grabbed one of the wineglasses from the table, crept into the kitchen and fixed herself a plate full of food. It was a shame that Ranger was missing this wonderful dinner, but maybe it was better if he got his rest.

  “Mmm,” she said, starting into the casserole. The wine was tasty and velvety, and she sat in the kitchen at the bar, enjoying every bite of her meal. Even the chair was just right, metal, but with a leather seat. She had a perfect view of the outdoors. Dark sky illuminated with diamond lights—there was very little she could think of that would be more romantic than this.

  She washed her dishes, holding back a yawn. After she dried them, she went to check on Ranger. He was sleeping comfortably. Obviously, they weren’t going anywhere tonight. She might as well rest, too.

  Heading back down the small hall, she went into the master bedroom. “Pretty big bed for one person,” she murmured, “but I’m sure it’ll be just right.”

  And it was, soft and warm with a heavy comforter. And lonely.

  “I need a dog,” she told herself. “Maybe a cat.”

  But not Ranger. Definitely not that bad boy. The last thing she would ever be was his latest toy. He was looking for diversion, and she didn’t want to play.

  “It’s raining,” he said suddenly, interrupting her thoughts. She sat straight up in the bed, holding the sheet to her even though she had worn her shirt to bed.

  “Raining?”

  “Yep. Guess that means we can’t try out the hammock on the balcony.”

  “I wasn’t going to, anyway!”

  “Are you afraid of storms?” he asked.

  She couldn’t see him in the darkness, just his silhouette and it made her nervous. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been alone with a man in her sleeping space. “Absolutely not!”

  “Good. I didn’t want to have to hold you if you got scared.”

  She scowled in the darkness. “I wouldn’t ask you to.”

  “Glad we got that straightened out. So, the TV says this area is under a tornado watch.”

  She snorted and pulled a pillow over her head. “A little rain isn’t going to do anything but flush out some of the dust.”

  “I was just testing the honesty of your claim about storms.”

  “Go away. It’s not going to work.”

  Outside, the rain began to hit the windows.

  “Maybe we can’t leave until the morning,” he said.

  “I rather thought that when you began sawing logs on the sofa. I could have left you, but you seemed so trusting and alone that I couldn’t. After all, you did give me a ride. Of course, you also brought me into this mess, which I suppose entitles me to ditch you, but I couldn’t. We are definitely leaving in the morning, so don’t get too comfy on the sofa.”

  “No room in here?”

  “Nope. The bed’s too small for two.”

  “I thought you’d say that. King-size beds have a reputation for being tight. Okay. I’m going to go watch the rain hit the windows.”

  “You
do that,” she said, thinking she’d rather he stay in the room with her, but knowing that that way led to disaster.

  She could hear his boots head down the hall. To herself, she sighed, thinking she was relieved, and then realizing she was sighing because she couldn’t throw back the covers and say, “Bring it on, big boy!”

  That made her giggle. “He’d probably have died of shock,” she said out loud, enjoying the thought. Except she knew he would have been shocked, but it would have been a good shock. Then he would have dived in with her, and she wouldn’t be alone anymore. And it would have felt better than right.

  “And now I can’t sleep.” Thinking about the king-size bed and the rain and the candles was too much temptation. She crept down the hall and peeked around the corner, shamelessly spying.

  He stood in front of the window, hands on hips, staring out at the darkness and the rain. Even not moving he seemed very large, very commanding. Her breath caught in her throat. Way sexy, way hot. What was she doing, saying no? What would keeping her distance gain her? She might never have a chance at that much man again! Who cared if she was simply his girl-whirl? She’d be on her riverboat, dealing cards and enjoying the happy memory of one night in a cool hideaway with a major amount of man.

  But no, they’d feel awkward around each other in the morning. She was going her way, and he was going his, and she’d be kidding herself if she thought it was just one night of fun between the sheets. She’d started out on this journey to forget about him!

  If she slept with him, it would take that much longer to forget about him. In fact, she could develop amnesia and he’d probably be the first thing she’d remember.

  “Rats,” she murmured to herself. The temptation was killing her. “You know,” she said to get his attention, “I hate for you to be bored and scared of storms.”

  He turned around, his gaze catching on her with heat. “I am not bored, and I’m only afraid of hurting you.”

  She raised her chin, astonished.

  “You’re right about us kissing being a bad idea, but not for the reasons you mentioned. The boredom thing. The truth is, you’re delicate and bruised, and I’d like to pound the idiot who hurt your feelings so badly.”

  Oh, boy. Her eyes widened. Her throat dried out. She could tell him that actually he was the idiot, but obviously he didn’t imagine that he’d hurt her. Which made her realize that he had not meant to be careless with her. It was just that the moment she’d met him, she’d known she’d met a man worth having. Only, she wasn’t supposed to be falling for a man, and…Ranger wasn’t game for love, no matter how sweet he was about wanting to pound someone for her. “I think you’re more man than I can handle,” she said softly. “Right now.”

  A smile softened his face. “I think you’re a crazy li’l ol’ gal. But I could handle you, even though you’re kind of a wild thing. I could definitely handle you.”

  She pursed her lips. “Think so?”

  “Yeah. And you’d like it. We both would.”

  She sucked in a breath. “Why are you still wearing that ring?”

  “I like it.”

  His eyes warmed her, saw through her. She liked it, too. She liked thinking it meant something to him.

  “It’s my good-luck charm,” he said. “Keeps me from falling under the curse.”

  “Oh, yeah. Right. I think…I think I’ll go back to bed now,” she said. “I just thought I should check on you. Make sure you weren’t feeling woozy or something.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Well, goodnight.” She fled back down to the lonely king-size bed. Whew! Okay, the sooner they hit the road tomorrow, the safer she’d be. She was falling harder, and the feeling was weightless. If she didn’t get away from Ranger soon, she was going to be lost.

  RANGER LAY ON THE SOFA after blowing out the candles. He’d miscalculated. He’d added up the time he’d spent with Hannah to mean more than it apparently had, and then multiplied it by his lust for her.

  But that hadn’t equaled getting to hold her in his arms. She liked him; he knew she did. But that wasn’t enough for her to get around the fact that he’d kissed Cissy. And, if he was truthful with himself, he would have to admit that Hannah was right: He wasn’t in the market for a hot and heavy love affair right now. He had issues, and he respected her for figuring that out. Some women would have slept with him and tried to change his mind, focus his attention on them.

  Hannah was different. Even her body language radiated Go away!

  Which, perversely, made him want to stay closer to her. Had made him want to marry her in his most weakened moment.

  Whew. When he thought that through, he realized how lucky he was not to have made love with her. He might have started believing his own fairy tale, and then what? Take her back home to the ranch with Mason?

  No way. Hannah had no home. She was a gypsy. He couldn’t live like that, and he couldn’t live with Mason. He was attracted to her because he was bored with his life, as Hannah had pointed out, and her gypsy-ness called to him.

  But in the end, it wouldn’t work out. They’d have great sex and nothing else.

  Of course, great sex was worth considering.

  But…not with Hannah. She was already too emotionally pained. He wondered who had hurt her. He wondered why men did that to women.

  He sank onto the sofa and wondered why women did that to men. Why wasn’t love easy?

  With a start, he realized Hannah was standing in front of him. With the wind and rain wildly hitting the windows, he hadn’t heard her walk into the room. He gazed up at her face, soft and sweet in the darkness, her eyes huge and wary like a squirrel’s. “Hey,” he said softly. “Can’t sleep?”

  He thought she trembled. “I don’t think I can,” she said.

  “Storm bugging you?”

  She shook her head. “You’re bugging me.”

  He stared at her for a moment, adding the tremble and her words correctly. She’d changed her mind about making love with him. The realization made his blood pound in his head, made his pulse strong with desire.

  But…he’d never know why she’d done it. They were too far from the real world for it to count. Sex was sex and his brothers would say he was weird for not jerking her down onto the floor with him and losing himself in her all night.

  But there was more to life than quickies. Tomorrow he would be glad he hadn’t taken advantage of her.

  “Come here,” he said, pulling her down in front of him so that they lay spoon-style on the sofa. He buried his face in her shoulder so he could smell her neck and her hair, and put his arm around her waist to anchor her safely to him. Now, let it storm all it wants. I’ve got Miss Funky-Punky in my arms.

  Chapter Seven

  Hannah sighed to herself as she melted into Ranger’s arms. It had taken all her courage to come back down the hall to him, wanting him and yet not wanting him. Wanting something more than what they’d had so far, knowing she didn’t have any more than this to offer him.

  And maybe he understood that she was just lonely. That’s all it was. She was lonely and scared of her life. It was going nowhere, and she had as many issues as he did, only she wasn’t admitting it. It would be heaven to make love with him, but tomorrow she would be glad she didn’t take advantage of him.

  She closed her eyes. It felt great to be curled up against Ranger, even if she knew it was only for one night.

  Tomorrow, she had to get to Mississippi.

  Ranger had to offer himself to the military.

  “I’m thirty-six,” she whispered to Ranger. “Just in case you thought I looked too young for you.”

  “I’m thirty-two,” he whispered back, “just in case you thought I looked too old for you.”

  “Do you really think the military will take you?”

  “Yeah. I’m strong and willing and possessed of all my faculties and at least I can swab decks or something. Do you really think the riverboat will let you deal cards to ogling men?”

&nbs
p; “Yes. I’m smart and willing and possessed of all my faculties and really good at it. Besides, the man I was supposed to marry owns the boat.”

  Ranger sat up and flipped on the lamp beside the table, pulling her to sit beside him. “Okay,” he said, “you can’t slip that humdinger in there like it doesn’t count. You married me under false pretenses.”

  “I didn’t really marry you. It was the fakest of fake marriages. And I’m not married to him. I said I was supposed to marry him. Why are you so outraged?”

  “Because I’m going into the military where there are no women, or at least not many, and you’re going to a riverboat that a significant other of yours owns,” he said, feeling huffy.

  “The two have no relation.”

  “Hannah Hotchkiss,” Ranger said, his voice intense, “you’re making up a phantom man to keep your distance from me, aren’t you? A cardboard fiancé?”

  “No. Truly, you’re safe from me.”

  “Damn right I am! Because I wouldn’t touch a woman who had a boyfriend, and you know it. Don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do. But that has nothing to do with anything.”

  He stood. “It has everything to do with everything. Is that the joker who stomped on your heart and made you so nontrusting? You definitely have trust issues.”

  “No,” she said emphatically. “And that’s not my issue, thank you.”

  “It was someone else?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go back to bed,” he said.

  “Ranger!”

  “Go back to bed. There’s only room for one on this sofa, and that one is going to be me. I’ll be up at first light to get you on the road toward Mississippi.”

  “Fine.” She got up from the sofa and flounced down the hall.

  “Fine,” he mimicked.

  “Fine,” he said again. His every cell seemed to have closed up inside him, gasping with shock. The man she was supposed to marry! What the hell kind of bomb was that to drop on a man who still had some lingering cactus needles lodged in his feet? They were small and spiny and they bothered him—he’d need tweezers and a strong light to get them out and maybe a real doctor—but they were nothing like the strange, cracking feeling inside him right now.