WIFE FOR HIRE

by Amy J. Fetzer

  Oh, mercy, no.

  Men and horses filed out into the huge arena. Nash was closest to her. Royce was next to him and they shook hands. Then Nash lifted his gaze to hers and smiled. She waved, a strange sense of pride swimming through her. His horse pranced. He was by far the best-looking man out there. He was in it for the fun of it, she realized, because if he wasn't, the animal beneath him would have been one of his own mounts. And he'd have practiced.

  The gun went off and so did the horses. Nash was in his glory right now, she thought. He came in second, after Royce. Nash laughed and shook hands with the winner before he glanced back at her and shrugged sheepishly.

  A few minutes later the attendant released a calf into the arena. Royce went after it, snagging the animal with a lariat and taking him down. Nash was the last man out. He hardly chased the calf, snapping the rope around its neck, sliding to the ground, and had four legs tied in seconds. He hopped to his feet, his hands in the air. The crowd roared, then in another second, when his time flashed on the big digital screen, the crowd howled again.

  "I suppose that's a good time?" Hayley said to the girl beside her, applauding him.

  The girl looked at Hayley as if appalled that she didn't know. "Nash Rayburn has never been beat. Not in five years."

  Hayley swung her gaze back at Nash. He tipped his hat to her, then released the calf.

  When the bronc riding began, her fear climbed as each man took to the field. The horses were merciless, kicking and bucking the first three men off. The third rider got his hand caught in the saddle rope when he was thrown, and the horse dragged him, slapping him against its side. This was nuts, Hayley thought as the young man hit the ground with a teeth-jarring thud. The girl beside her screamed his name and didn't relax until he stood up and strode back to the pens.

  Royce held on for six seconds and then was thrown, hitting the fence. Moments passed before he shook himself and climbed to his feet, obviously disgusted with his performance.

  Then it was Nash's turn. The crowd hushed. Across the dirt ring, he met Hayley's gaze, grinning in the face of her worry.

  Hayley's heart thundered as he tried controlling the horse inside the chute. The door flung open and he bolted forward. Oh, God, he's going to break his neck, she thought, watching him get bounced up and down.

  Yet he held on, his hand high in the air and a huge grin on his face. The crowd counted down the time to eight seconds. Nash held on, the black devil nearly upending himself to get him off. Hayley smothered the scream curling up her throat.

  The buzzer sounded. Nash flung himself off the horse and the roadies corralled the animal back into the pen.

  The announcer proclaimed him the winner.

  Hayley was on the edge of her seat, battling between wanting to bust his chops for risking his life and being so proud of him.

  She shouted his name, pride winning hands down. He looked at her, then started walking toward her. She leaped off the rail and ran to him, jumping into his outstretched arms.

  "You fool!" she said above the noise. "You could have been hurt!"

  "Nah," he said, lifting her off her feet and spinning her around. "What kind of breeder would I be if I let an old paint like that best me?"

  "That was incredible!"

  He stared down at her excited face and knew he couldn't stop himself.

  He kissed her, wildly, passionately holding her head, the motion knocking off her hat as he took her mouth while thousands watched.

  The crowd whistled and howled. The announcer made some comment she didn't hear above the roaring in her ears. She looped her arms around his neck and Nash staked his claim on her, the kiss lush and hot and way too short for his liking. He pulled back, loving her blush, loving the way she shoved at his shoulder and gave him a chiding look that didn't have much weight behind it. He didn't set her down and, instead, swept her up into his arms and carried her off the field.

  She was beet red with embarrassment and buried her face in his shoulder. "Put me down."

  "Nope." His gaze clashed with hers. "I like having you wrapped around me."

  Hayley wanted to heed the warnings going off in her head, but she ignored them and admitted, "I like it, too."

  He stopped, releasing her legs and letting her slide down the length of his body. He was still breathing hard and having her so close increased it. He didn't want to say anything that would sending her running. He had a feeling she'd been near that point earlier, so he simply smiled. "Good, 'cause we fit right nice." He kissed her again, quickly and possessively, then put his arm around her waist and led her out of the arena.

  A young roadie raced up with her hat, handing it to her and congratulating Nash. He thanked the boy by name and the boy beamed. Nash's friends and employees came up to him, and he accepted congratulations and teasing over their kiss as they worked their way to a vendor stand. He bought cold drinks, and Hayley watched him drain a bottle of water, then take out a handkerchief to wipe the dust and sweat from his face and throat.

  "I'm too old for that," he confided.

  "You looked good. The girls beside me were drooling over you."

  "Right. Like they'd drool over their father."

  She scoffed at his modesty, holding his gaze. "The twins would have enjoyed seeing that."

  He smiled tenderly. How like her to think of them. "They videotape it, so we can get a copy for them."

  "Great. Then they can see how you could have gotten killed."

  He simply smiled, pulling her close and walking with her toward the auction tents. "You worry too much, Doc." He looked down at her, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "But thanks."

  The Thoroughbred auction was before dusk and an amazing thing to see. The animals were paraded in front of the buyers, and though the bidders were registered and the horses numbered in a catalog, Hayley listened as the bids rose. She could buy a mansion for the price. With a pen she marked the program listing Nash's horses, reading about him, the ribbons and the races his horses had won. A Kentucky Derby and two Preakness winners in the past three years.

  No wonder they were in demand.

  The stallion she'd seen him show the other day was led out. The price rose so quickly she couldn't keep track. It hit over a million. When the bidding halted, she glanced at Nash. He was sipping a soda, his forearms on the rail, totally at ease.

  The auctioneer called out the final bid and Hayley gasped. Nash nodded to the auctioneer and the gavel slammed down.

  She sagged against the fence. "Amazing."

  Nash shrugged. "Seems fair."

  "Fair?"

  "That's the son of the last Derby winner." He nodded to the horse and its new owner.

  "Oh."

  "A good two-year-old. I have the foal." He led her away from the pens.

  "Was that the one I saw you have put back in the barn the other day?" she asked.

  He nodded. "The mare is excellent stock, and her foals will be the eye catchers in two years."

  "Do you artificially inseminate?"

  He quirked a smile. "Yeah. I'd let them go natural if the stallions didn't get so hot and bothered they hurt the mares."

  Hayley reddened.

  "For a doctor, you sure do blush a lot."

  She elbowed him playfully and he chuckled, finishing off his soda and tossing the can in the trash.

  Jimmy Lee rushed up to him, handing him papers to sign, and he chatted with Hayley as Nash read and signed the documents. No sooner had Jimmy left than Andy Pike pushed his way over, followed by three men. The men all shook hands and Andy started in with questions Hayley couldn't begin to understand. Nash stood back a bit, his arms folded over his chest, and she was fascinated with watching him. He had the men's respect, answering questions of breeding methods, veterinary services and cutting techniques. She learned that some of these horses actually went to ranches as far away as Nebraska and Oklahoma. And she also learned that women noticed him, tried waving to get his attention. He'd nod and politely res
pond with a smile, but the looks they gave him, looks no other woman could mistake for anything but "I want you and I'm available," didn't have much effect. Regardless, she had the urge to step closer.

  Finally Nash excused himself and took her arm. "Sorry. Ready to split?"

  "Yes," she said with feeling. "My feet are killing me."

  They walked to his truck and Nash had to help her into the cab, it was so high off the ground. Leaving the parking lot, she sank into the soft cushions, her hat on her lap. In seconds she was dozing.

  Nash glanced at her, thinking the woman was a cross between a fairy in his dreams and a thorn in his side. Despite the distance separating them across the truck cab, he could sense every inch of her like sunshine on his skin, like an animal senses its mate. It was the sweetest torment, like discovering her all over again. Her body was shapelier, and the way she carried herself was as sexy as her walk. And when he kissed her, it was as he'd been gone on a long journey and finally made it home. His fingers flexed on the steering wheel and he looked straight ahead. How was he going to spend the night alone in his house with her and not want to take her to his bed? He groaned, shaking his head. He was going to come apart at the seams if he wasn't careful.

  Half an hour later, he pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine. Within minutes they were through the front door. Hayley went around the house flipping on lights, while Nash went to the French doors, peering out onto the patio.

  "I'm going to shower and change," he told her, crossing to her.

  "Me, too."

  "Meet you here."

  She nodded, a sudden wave of excitement coursing through her. She knew it wasn't wise to want time alone with him this badly, but she did. She pushed aside the fact that she was leaving, that they were from too-different worlds, and hurried through her shower, pulling on shorts and a T-shirt and not even bothering to dry her hair.

  She found him sitting on the back veranda. She stepped out onto the patio, her eyes widening at the meal laid out. Candles, chilling wine and heavenly smelling food under those silver domes. "If you tell me you whipped this up, I quit, and you can take over the cooking."

  He stood, pulling out a chair for her. "Not a chance. It's catered."

  Her brows rose. "My, my."

  "I figured you needed the break and I'm starved." Besides, he thought, he didn't want her to feel as if she had to cook, and the last thing he wanted was her attention diverted.

  She slid into the chair, sighing deeply. She tipped her head back, staring at the stars as he poured her a glass of wine. "It's almost sinful doing this."

  He eyed her. "You aren't going to refuse, are you?"

  She shook her head as he pressed the goblet in her hand. "Of course not. I was going to suggest takeout or delivery."

  "When was the last time you pampered yourself?"

  Her forehead knitted.

  "Can't remember, can you?" His expression was a little too assured for her liking. "Don't you think its about time?"

  "I never had the money or the time, Nash, you know it."

  He inched his chair closer, uncovering the meal. "I know, darlin', but for the next couple of days, just think of nothing but relaxing." And being with me, he thought.

  She straightened in the chair, the aroma of food making her mouth water. "Sounds like a plan, and you don't have to tell me twice." She forked a bite of veal. "This was really sweet of you."

  "I didn't do it to be sweet."

  She glanced up, the bite halfway to her mouth. "Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Rayburn?"

  His lips quirked. "Would it work?"

  She smiled slightly. "Boy, is that a loaded question." She ate.

  "Don't answer then, just let me dream."

  His low tone made her skin go warm, the heat of it offering memories and a promise of more. She met his gaze. The air between them simmered with suppressed sexuality, melting away the barriers he'd struggled to erase all day. They dined and sipped wine, discussed politics, the twins, the ranch. They got into a heated debate over fertility and cloning, and Nash finally had to concede to her views. She was fighter, battling for the human race, and he was only seeing the way to breed a faster stronger horse.

  God, he loved her mind.

  And he wanted to love her body.

  Relaxing in his chair, he couldn't take his gaze off her. The breeze lifted her red curls. She looked sated, her eyes closed, a small curiously private smile curving her lips. He squashed his need to pull her onto his lap and just shifted closer, facing her, then bent down to lift her feet onto his lap. She spared him a glance. He pulled off her sandals and massaged her feet. She moaned, going limp.

  "Come with me," he said.

  "Where?"

  "For a ride."

  She opened one eye.

  "On my horse. What a trashy mind."

  He provoked it, she thought. "Isn't it dangerous at night?"

  "The moon is full and I know this land like I know my own hand."

  "Go get your beast, Rayburn. I'll wait here."

  He stood. "You aren't going to fall asleep on me, are you?"

  "Just getting my second wind, honest." She waved, sinking into the chair.

  Nash left and Hayley sighed. Relax. Enjoy it, she told herself. You'll soon be gone, and like everything else, you'll regret it if you don't. A few minutes later her ears pricked to the sound of hooves. She watched as he rode the horse across the patio, the sight somehow incredibly romantic. She stood up when he stopped in front of her, holding out his hand.

  "There's no saddle," she said.

  "Just put your foot on top of mine." He flicked his fingers. "I'll do the rest."

  She grasped his hand, looking skeptical.

  "Trust me, Hayley." Her gaze locked with his. "I won't let anything hurt you."

  The words were soft, his look tender and holding more meaning than she wanted to see. Oh this is dangerous, she thought and put her foot atop his. He hauled her up before him.

  "This is cool," she said with a glance back.

  "It gets better."

  He urged the horse into a canter, and they raced across the hill, heading for the line of trees a hundred yards away. Hayley laughed, and he gripped her tightly, leaning over the horse's neck with her. The moon shone brightly, turning everything silver, and as he headed into the trees, she tensed.

  "It's okay," he said close to her ear. "Trust me."

  Her body relaxed with each step and she sagged back against him as he maneuvered the horse through the forest. There must be a path, she thought, but she couldn't see one in the dark. Just when she thought the trees would shut out the moonlight completely, the beams speared through the branches, coloring the ground.

  Then she saw it. A cove, the river spilling to the tidal basin in a soft rush. Water trickled over rocks and into the marshy pool.

  "It's beautiful. Can you swim in it?"

  "Yes, but I wouldn't right now."

  She glanced back at him questioningly.

  "Snakes. Water moccasins. Can't see them in the dark," Nash said.

  He chuckled when she lifted her legs, afraid. Then he pulled her warmly against him. He rested his chin on the top of her head, the feel of her in his arms like a dream he'd wished on too many times.

  "I used to come here alone."

  He didn't have to say while he was married to Michelle. She heard it in his tone.

  "I'd sit over there—" he pointed to a cluster of rocks and fallen trees "—and just think and wonder."

  "Wonder?"

  "About you. About where you were. About what I'd done."

  She bowed her head. "Don't."

  "Shh. I'd think about some other man touching you, and I'd drive myself mad. I had to remind myself that I'd made my bed and had to lie in it without you. But still, I'd remember what it was like to make love to you, the smell of your skin, the taste of it."

  "Nash." She twisted in his arms, gazing into his tortured eyes.

  "I have a very good me
mory. But it wasn't perfect."

  Hers was, with a clarity that bit into her soul. This fight in her, the internal battle she'd waged between longing, the true feelings in her heart and what she should do to survive came to a crushing end at his next words.

  "Hayley, I want you. I have for more years than I care to count." His lips brushed hers, his entire body locking tight with a fierce need to have her, to be inside her and hear all those passion-laced cries that haunted his dreams.

  "So much for being friends, I see," she said, the words whispering over his lips.

  Something inside him broke free and soared. "We were always more than friends."

  "Nash."

  He inhaled her scent, wanting it spread all over him. "Uh-uh?"

  "If you're going to kiss me, then you ought to get to it."

  Instantly his mouth covered hers in a lush kiss that fired his already seething blood. Hayley shifted sideways on his lap and arched into him, her skin throbbing for his touch, her breasts filling the space between them. He crushed her to his chest and made love to her mouth with a ferocity that made her want him more.

  Denial never entered her mind. There wasn't room. His touch created a warm haze and sent hot sensations, overflowing, crowding her thinking and making her body answer. Suddenly she couldn't get close enough.

  A kiss wasn't enough. She shifted her legs and wrapped them around his hips.

  Nash groaned darkly. "You're driving me crazy," he whispered into her mouth.

  She couldn't help it. Like before when Nash touched her, she didn't have much control.

  And right now she didn't care.

  * * *

  Eight

  « ^ »

  The horse sensed their passion, sidestepping, and the motion pushed them apart.

  He held her gaze, his breathing rushed. "This isn't the place for this."

  "Depends on your point of view," she said breathlessly, and tightened her legs around him. It ground her softness to the hard length of him straining against his jeans.