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COWBOY: His ranch. His rules. His secrets. (Taking Charge Book 1)

Page 3

by Maggie Carpenter


  "I don't know about that," he chuckled, "but we seem to get along. Really liked your videos. You've got a real easy way about your ridin'. I'm lookin' forward to workin' with you. Sorry I wasn't here when you stayed those two days."

  "I appreciate you letting me in without meeting me."

  "I trust Keith's instincts. His A-okay is good enough for me. I understand your boy's about to arrive."

  "He is. I'm so excited, and I'm really happy to be here."

  "It's a good barn," he said casually. "We're a team. We follow the rules and help each other and that keeps things runnin' real smooth."

  He'd mentioned the rules, and she made a mental note to go back through them again when she returned to her cabin. The rules were apparently a very big deal at Dream Horse Ranch, and not just to Keith.

  "I'd better move my pickup," she said quickly.

  "She's somethin'. I'd like to hear how you find an antique like that in such great condition."

  "I'll be happy to tell you," she said happily as she climbed in. "Her name is Daisy. I'll be right back."

  Though she couldn't wait to see her horse, as she drove back to her cabin she couldn't stop thinking what an enigmatic figure Keith Parker was, and pulling into her carport she turned off the engine and stared out the window.

  "What if he's a wanted felon or something? No, I'm only thinking that way because dad's a criminal defense lawyer. Not everyone who likes privacy has nefarious reasons. Why am I torturing myself like this? I've only been here two minutes and I've already fallen in crush and decided the guy's an axe murderer. Good grief, Carly, get a grip."

  Determined to keep herself in check, she climbed from her truck and jogged back to the barn, arriving just as the trailer appeared in the driveway. It rolled slowly into the open area where she had been parked, and as it came to a stop she ran up to meet her longtime horse hauler, Paul Jackson. Stepping down from the cab he looked around and let out a long whistle.

  "Damn, girl, you sure landed on your feet. This place is ridiculous."

  "Isn't it? And the horses are amazing."

  "I can't believe you found this job from some little ad in a magazine?"

  "I know. I almost went right past it."

  "I'm surprised a place like would have to advertise. Usually the high-end barns find their people through word-of-mouth. Those are some nice lookin' horses," he continued, staring out at the paddocks. "I could get this place some sales if you wanna connect us."

  Not sure what to say, but seeing Andy striding towards them, she decided to let him answer Paul's question.

  "That's the guy to talk to. I just got here. I have no idea how this place runs. Can we please get Winston out now?"

  "Yeah, yeah, sure, sorry. I just didn't expect anything like this."

  Following him to the back of the trailer she stood impatiently as he opened the doors, then seeing her big grey gelding she broke into a broad grin.

  "Hey big fella," she said as the horse turned its head. "Sure is good to see you."

  Paul began backing him out, and as Winston stepped down the ramp Carly took the lead rope. He sniffed the air, licked his lips, and let out a loud whinny.

  "He's a beauty," Andy declared, walking up to join them, and as he patted Winston on the neck the big gelding dropped his head and rubbed it against Andy's chest.

  "You really are a horse-whisperer," Carly exclaimed. "Look at that. He's taken to you already."

  "You are one super-sized fella. I saw that video. I can't believe you ride him in just a halter?"

  "You should see her in person," Paul interjected. "It's incredible."

  "I'm lookin' forward to it, and if anyone's a horse-whisperer around here seems like that would be you. He's a lotta horse."

  "Not really. He's as soft as cotton to ride. Come on, handsome, let me show you this place. Thanks, Paul. I'll call you later. Safe trip back."

  As she led Winston into the barn she heard Paul begin a conversation with Andy, but she didn't stop and listen. She already knew what the outcome would be.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  From the window of his office Keith had seen the big grey gelding being unloaded. He was a gorgeous horse, but it wasn't Winston he was standing there to watch. It was Carly.

  Her painted on jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt clung deliciously to her curves, and the frequent blush that crossed her face was adorable. Her blue eyes literally twinkled when she studied him, and that's what she did, she studied him. And then there were her questions. Her curiosity was to be expected, Sandy had been curious too, and Jenna before her, but Carly was different. Carly wasn't just curious. Carly was intrigued.

  "Keith, do you want some coffee?"

  Turning around he saw Elsie standing at the door. He hadn't heard her come in. That wasn't normal.

  "Yeah, coffee would be good."

  "Are you watching her?"

  "Not anymore. She's gone into the barn. Nice horse she's got. Real nice."

  "Are you sure you did the right thing hiring that girl?"

  "Nope, but she was the best candidate, and why are you askin' me that?"

  "I've known you since the day you were born and it's obvious you've taken a shine to her, that's why. I knew it when she first came here. That's not good."

  "It'll be fine, Elsie. She won't go yappin' to the first person who asks her a question. That's the key. Findin' a woman with the right skill set who knows how to keep her mouth shut."

  "I think you're probably right about that, but you're going to have to be careful. She's no dummy. Sandy wasn't either, but Sandy didn't care, especially after she met Mark."

  "Yeah, I know all that. Don't worry. I know how to handle Carly Kincaid."

  "Are you sure about that?" Elsie asked skeptically, frowning as she walked across to the desk. "Keith, you're so close to getting everything you want, everything you've worked for, now isn't the time to take any chances."

  "You're overreactin', and hirin' Carly isn't takin' a chance. I wouldn't have done it if I thought that. Relax. I'll keep her in check."

  "Make sure you do. Do you want cinnamon coffee or regular?"

  "Cinnamon, thanks, Elsie."

  As she turned and left the office, Keith moved back to the window. The trailer had left, and Andy was walking down to the paddocks.

  "It's all good," he muttered. "Carly's exactly right for this place. In another week she'll have settled in and she'll be too busy to be intrigued. Still, it might be wise to nip things in the bud. Yeah, before dinner. She can sit uncomfortably for a short time. That should do it."

  CHAPTER THREE

  The blustery wind flirted with Carly's long skirt as she climbed into her pickup. In spite of Elsie's reassuring words about dressing casually, Carly had spent over an hour deciding what to wear to her welcome dinner. She'd finally chosen a long navy print dress with white pearl buttons down the front, white boots and a pale blue denim jacket. She'd taken a curling iron to her hair and makeup to her face, and when she'd studied her reflection in the old-fashioned oval mirror she was pleased with what she saw.

  Though excited about the evening she was a tad nervous, especially after receiving a text from Keith asking her to arrive fifteen minutes early. Driving up to the house she glanced at the battered old Timex she'd owned since high school. It was almost six-forty-five. Stopping next to the gleaming black truck in the parking area, she grabbed the white purse she reserved for special occasions, hurried through the chilly wind, and reaching the front door she rang the bell.

  "Welcome, and you can just come on in when you're here for a meal," Elsie smiled as she opened the door. "Keith is waiting for you in his office."

  "Thank you, Elsie. Something smells delicious."

  "With the weather suddenly turning chilly I decided to make chicken and dumplings, but there are plenty of veggies in there as well."

  "That sounds wonderful."

  "You'd best find out what Keith wants. I'll see you shortly."

  As she tur
ned and walked down the hall she remembered how edgy she'd been the day of her interview. She'd wanted the job so much. Now it was hers and she couldn't be happier. Reaching the door to his study she found it closed, and knocking lightly she stood waiting for his invitation to enter.

  "I had to step out," he declared, startling her as he approached from behind.

  Leaning past her and pushing the door open, he gestured for her to go in, but when he closed it behind them she saw him turn the lock. A shiver of anticipation rippled through her body.

  "I did stop in and look in on Winston," he said casually as he walked across the room and perched on the edge of his desk. "He's a gentle giant and he looked very content."

  "He doesn't mind change. Probably because he spent his life at horse shows."

  "I asked you to come early because there's something we need to discuss. Something important. Take a seat."

  He pointed at the chair directly in front of him. She momentarily paused. It would place her ridiculously close to him. Fighting her butterflies she did as he asked, only to find his clasped hands in front of his crotch were just a couple of feet away. Raising her eyes she looked up at him. A stern frown had crossed his brow, and she suddenly felt as if she'd been summoned to the principal's office. Was she about to be scolded? What had she done? The only thing she could think of was asking him whether or not he owned the ranch. She inwardly cringed. It had been such a stupid mistake.

  "Do you remember the conversation we had when you first came here?"

  "You mean at the interview?"

  "Yep, at the interview."

  "Which part of the conversation exactly?"

  "Didn't I make it a point that you were to mind your business and no-one else's?"

  "Um, yes."

  "Then why were you askin' me a bunch of questions earlier?"

  "I was?"

  "You even had the nerve to ask if I owned this ranch."

  "Was that bad?"

  "Excuse me? Did you just ask if that was bad?"

  "Sorry," she murmured, dropping her eyes as the annoying red blush crept across her cheeks.

  "It doesn't matter if I own it, if I lease it, or if I work for someone else. All you need to know is that I'm your boss."

  The faint scent of his cologne was tickling her nostrils and her eyes had settled on his hands. She hadn't noticed it before, but his nails were manicured. Whoever heard of a cowboy with manicured nails? What the hell was that about?

  "I understand and I apologize. I didn't mean anything by it."

  "That's hardly the point. I like you, Carly, but you won't last five minutes if you don't respect my privacy and the privacy of those who work here. If someone wants to volunteer something that's fine, but you're not to pry."

  "Isn't this all a bit much?" she suddenly blurted out, lifting her eyes to meet his. "I mean, what's the big deal? Did you all rob a bank or something?"

  She hadn't meant to say it. The thoughts had tumbled through her head and the next thing she knew the words had spilled from her lips. Wishing the floor would open and swallow her up, she nervously dropped her gaze.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't meant that the way it sounded. I've just never been in a situation like this. Asking questions is just a part of being friendly and getting to know each other."

  "I think you'd better leave," he declared, abruptly rising from his desk and moving towards the windows behind his desk.

  "Leave?" she repeated, a shard of panic making her heart thump. "Do you mean your office or—"

  "I'm sorry, Carly, this is my fault," he said brusquely, keeping his back to her as he stared out at the night. "I misjudged you. You're not a fit."

  "Are you…are you firing me?"

  "I am, and at this point I must remind you about the confidentiality agreement you signed."

  "I'm not a blabbermouth, you don't have to worry about that," she said earnestly, then as a flash of anger burst out of her, she added, "Dammit, this isn't fair," and as she watched him slowly turn around she felt a well of brimming tears.

  "Fair?" he said, moving towards her. "Fair? I made my expectations abundantly clear. You said you understood and agreed to the terms and conditions I laid out, then in the blink of an eye you crossed the line. Do you think that's fair? Or am I wrong? Did I make my wishes clear or didn't I?"

  "You, uh, you did, and I'm truly sorry. Honestly. Please will you give me another chance? I won't ask anyone about anything unless it's related to the job, I swear."

  He didn't respond, but stared at her, and she felt a flicker of hope.

  "Like I said, I've never been in a situation like this," she continued, pleading her case. "It's only human to be curious, but asking whether or not this ranch was yours, that was completely out of line. I knew it at the time and I was embarrassed then and I'm embarrassed now. It's none of my business and of course you're right, it doesn't matter. I really want to stay, and if I mess up again I'll—"

  "Do you remember what I said would happen if you broke the rules?"

  "Uh…yes," she squeaked, her throat constricting as her stomach suddenly flipped.

  "Tell me."

  "Corporal p-punishment."

  "If you want to stay you'll have to accept the consequences. You broke the rules, and broke them badly."

  "I understand, and if you give me another chance I won't let you down."

  "Are you saying you're willing to accept the punishment?"

  "Uh, yes," she replied, though in a breathy voice she didn't even recognize.

  "Stand up and place your hands on the desk."

  She wanted to do as he asked, but she felt weak and she was sure her legs would be wobbly.

  "Give me your hand."

  As she accepted his offer and felt his fingers wrap around hers, she wanted to close her eyes and relish the moment. His grip was strong, but not harsh, and his skin against hers was surprisingly soft. She could easily imagine his touch on her body, and as he pulled her to her feet something extraordinary happened. Though she was a tad fearful and certainly embarrassed, she had never been so turned on in her life

  "There," he declared, putting her hand firmly on the desk. "Now lay the other one next to it and scoot your feet out."

  As she did as he directed she could feel her face flaming even hotter, and staring down at the carpet she was grateful her hair was falling forward and hiding her scarlet cheeks.

  "You can change your mind at any time," he said, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Just say stop and I will, but bear in mind that will also be your resignation. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, I understand."

  "Then I'll begin."

  His hand landed with a solid swat on her right cheek, then followed with another to the left. It was far more embarrassing than painful, and having her body in his firm grasp was making her pulse race as much as the spanking. He was delivering his slaps with an easy rhythm, and though the sting was increasing, she felt herself surrendering to the deliciously decadent feelings washing through her. She wanted him to raise her skirt, lower her panties and spank her naked ass. She wanted him to see the glistening wetness peeping through the backs of her thighs. She wanted his fingers to explore her sex as he spanked, and most of all she wanted to feel his cock slide inside her.

  "Break the rules so badly again, and if I don't fire you I'll take a strap to your backside. Is that clear?"

  "It's clear."

  Though she'd understood his warning, she had no idea how she'd managed to answer him. Every nerve in her body was sparking, her heart was thumping, her legs were threatening to give way, and she was aching for him to take her in his arms and hold her.

  "Let this put an end to the matter," he said formally, but as he released her, to her great surprise and joy, he granted her unspoken fervent wish. He helped her straighten up and enveloped her in a warm, tender hug.

  "I won't mess up again," she mumbled, devouring the feel of his hard body and powerful arms around her, arms she never wanted to leave.<
br />
  "Catch your breath, then go down and join the others," he said softly, pulling back and looking down at her. "They'll probably be here by now and waitin' in the livin' room."

  She gazed into his soft brown eyes. Everything in her was screaming at her to circle her hands around his neck, press her mouth on his and passionately kiss him.

  "You want some water?" he asked, breaking into her salacious thoughts. "How about a spot of brandy to settle your nerves?"

  "Brandy, thank you," she managed, stepping back as he dropped his arms. "I am feeling a bit weird."

  "Sure, that's natural," he replied, turning away and moving to a tray on a sideboard holding two decanters and several glasses. "Have you ever been spanked before?"

  "I thought we didn't ask questions?"

  "Wrong. You don't ask, but I get to ask as many as I want," he said with a wry grin as he walked back to her and handed her the drink.

  "That doesn't seem quite fair."

  "When you're the boss lady you'll feel the same, trust me. So, have you?"

  "Not like that," she muttered, then gratefully taking a swallow of the amber liquor, she closed her eyes and let the soothing warmth slide down her throat. "Thank you. I haven't eaten much today so I'd better not drink much more."

  "You feelin' okay to join the others?"

  "Yeah, sure," she replied, placing her glass on the desk.

  "If you want to stop in the powder room it's the third door on the left as you go back towards the livin' room."

  "Thank you. So, I, uh, I guess I'll see you at dinner."

  "Yep. See you at dinner."

  Picking up her bag slung over the back of the chair she started towards the door, but to her surprise he walked with her and opened it.

  "Don't worry, Carly, no-one will have any idea what happened," he said softly, "not unless you tell them, and that's a no-no."

  "I have no intention or desire to do that."

  As she turned down the hall she could feel his eyes on her, but when she stopped at the powder room and looked back he was gone, and the door to his office was closed. Moving inside the small room she stared at her reflection. Her face was still flushed. Turning the faucet she ran her wrists under the cold running water. It was a trick she'd learned to cool down on a hot day. It worked, but as she dried off and headed to the living room, she had the feeling she'd crossed some sort of invisible line. A line from which there was no turning back.

 

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