Afterward, she turned to head back the way she’d come. Then turned again. And again. Lost. Great. Just great.
Her ears perked up when she heard a noise. Clop-clop... Desperate, she followed the sound through the maze of trees. Either she found a way out of here, or she’d melt. Like an ice-cream cone in a microwave oven.
Not that she was whining. Okay, so maybe a little. But even old Satan would be confessing his sins in this heat, if he found it bearable. Which he wouldn’t. It wasn’t hell, it was hotter than hell. Yep, the devil would have already bargained his soul and packed a bag for the Poconos.
Then again, she admitted several minutes later as she stared past the branches of an enormous tree, the Poconos were a little overrated. Her attention fixed on the very big, very dangerous-looking man who’d just galloped up to the river on one of the most beautiful horses Lucky had ever seen.
So the devil rode a horse. Well, she was in Texas.
TYLER GRANT REINED his mount to a halt, slid to the ground and unzipped his pants. Seconds later, he stood on the isolated riverbank completely naked, and mad as hell.
Damn that woman!
The past twenty-four hours rushed through his head with all the fury of a tornado. Hell, he felt as if he’d been hit by one.
He had. One in the form of an educated, attractive, reputable nanny, who’d turned out to be nothing more than a thieving con artist. He still couldn’t believe it. He’d handpicked the woman from a dozen applications provided by the Dalton Agency, one of the most reputable employment agencies in the state, and checked each one of her impeccable references himself. It had all been a lie, he’d been scammed, and now he was in big trouble.
And he always came here when he was in trouble.
The water winked at him, its mirrorlike surface catching rays of sunlight that spilled through the branches of the towering trees sheltering the river. Memories pulled at him of long-ago summers: inner tubes tied to the surrounding trees, excited boys swinging out over the river, plunging into the water...
He stepped into the river. The water embraced his heated, tense body, pulled at his muscles to relax. Despite the past few hours, the never-ending demands of the ranch, the phone calls to the local sheriff about the thieving nanny, he smiled. The water was heaven. Home. God. it had been so long. Too long.
Guilt shot through Tyler and fired his resolve. He was home now, and he was staying, or so he hoped.
He had to find a new nanny, and fast.
His mother-in-law arrived tomorrow and she expected a governess for her granddaughter. If Helen Bell-Whitman didn’t find one—one that met her high standards—he knew she’d cause such a ruckus they’d hear her all the way to the next county. His ears still rang from the moment he’d told Helen he was going home, and that was almost two months ago.
“You’re going to go play nursemaid for a man who’s had simple eye surgery? Hire someone to nurse him, Tyler. His condition is far from life threatening.”
“It’s not that simple,” he’d told her. “Someone has to look after the ranch. Dad’ll be out of circulation for at least a couple of months until his eyes heal from the surgery. He just purchased a new stud and somebody has to oversee the breeding.”
“Breeding? Tyler, you’re a partner in one of the largest private investment firms in the country, for heaven’s sake! You run board meetings, not breeding sessions. Hire someone to handle that revolting work for you.”
“He’s my father, Helen.” And I owe him, he added silently. For all those years I left him alone.
“There’s no need to dirty your own hands over some misguided sense of duty. You’re an investment banker, not a rancher.”
In another life, he thought. That part of him was dead and buried alongside his late wife. Nan had wanted him to be a banker, just as his own mother had wanted it. He’d given up the ranch for them, for a different world where he’d never fit in.
But this he was doing not only for his father, but also for his daughter, Bernadette. To show her another side of her heritage and see her smile again. And he liked getting his hands dirty. Working cattle involved dirt and sweat, calluses and aching muscles, and he’d never felt more alive.
Of course, Helen couldn’t comprehend such a thing. And nothing would keep her from drawing battle lines and forcing Bernadette to choose, when—if—Helen found out what had happened with the nanny. Ulysses or Houston. Tyler or Helen.
Bennie would never have to make such a choice and suffer the consequences. Tyler would see to that. He closed his eyes and waded out deeper. Water lapped at his thighs. He would just have to find somebody, anybody, and soon. Helen flew in at Stoney’s airstrip tomorrow afternoon for her first visit/ checkup. Surely he could find somebody by then? He had connections. A few calls and he could have somebody here by late morning. She wouldn’t be a Dalton woman, but he would just have to make do. Any nanny was better than no nanny at all.
OKAY, so he wasn’t the devil, Lucky concluded after drinking in every incredible inch of his backside, from broad shoulders to narrow waist, to the most gorgeous rear end she’d ever seen. She’d only had a glimpse when he’d tossed off his clothes and headed for the water. But now that he stood in the shallow part of the river, she had a much better view. He was definitely just a man. A very naked man. Oh, boy.
He had buns that put Mel Gibson’s to shame.
She blinked, but he didn’t disappear. They didn’t disappear.
Tight, tanned, muscular and curved just so...
And lethal to her sanity, she decided as she glanced down and saw that she’d stepped from the shelter of trees. She inched backward and took cover behind a thick tree trunk. Peering around the tree’s edge, she directed her attention back to him.
To them.
She couldn’t help wondering what kind of workout would yield such spectacular results. Undoubtedly a rigorous one, with a lot of flexing, pumping, grinding... A Flex Your Fanny video? A Terrific Tush workout seat? Probably some pumping and grinding of an entirely different nature.
Water rippled and she shrank back behind the tree just as the man stared over his shoulder. All she needed was to be caught trespassing. From what she’d seen of Ulysses, the county seat and home to the world’s largest pecan, she’d be strung up to the nearest tree—
Her thoughts ground to a halt as her eyes riveted to his face. It wasn’t so much that he was handsome. He was, in a Marlboro man sort of way. Rugged, tough... But more than anything, he was...male. There was nothing feminine about his strong jaw, firm lips, chiseled nose. And his eyes... She couldn’t see the color, but somehow she could feel their heat. The heat when a man looks at a woman that way. The way Rhett looked at Scarlett. The way Romeo looked at Juliet. The way Buster looked at anything with breasts bigger than his. But Tight Tush wasn’t looking at a woman, he was looking at her, and she felt that gaze head-on for the first time in her life.
Panic bolted through her and she even stopped chewing her gum for an endless moment. Surely he’d seen her. He looked as if he’d seen her. She felt as if he’d seen her.
Infinite seconds ticked by until his gaze passed the spot where she hid. Then he turned back around. Lucky resumed her chewing. Of course he hadn’t been looking at her. He didn’t even know she was there. Story of her life.
Reason kicked in and she inched backward. She had to get out of there before he really did catch a glimpse of her, not to mention that she had a wallet to return. Time was money. But then he scooped up several handfuls of water, doused them onto his body and she lost what little common sense she had.
The muscles in his arms rippled, catching gleaming rays of sunlight. Water streamed over his shoulders, down the curve of his back and those spectacular buns. She’d wind up dangling from the nearest tree for sure, but at least she’d die a happy woman. Lucky wiped at another trickle of sweat. Hot. Miserable. Thank God she’d brought an extra pack of chewing gum, otherwise her throat would be sandpaper—
Pop!
The bubble burst. Gum flattened against her face. And Tight Tush jerked around. Lucky ducked back behind the tree trunk, snatched the gum from her mouth and threw it away disgustedly. How could she have forgotten about it? Because she’d been chewing gum for ages, a habit that even hypnosis hadn’t been able to cure. She was addicted. And stupid, she thought as she clamped her eyes shut and held her breath.
Water rippled, but otherwise, she heard no sound. Nothing, just her own breathing and the frantic beat of her heart. She kept her eyes closed, her back glued to the tree, out of his sight. Maybe she’d finally lucked out. Maybe he hadn’t seen her. Lord knew she was due...
Her skin prickled with the strange awareness that someone was watching her and she changed her mind. She’d been caught in the act. A Peeping Tom. She could read the headlines now: Love-Starved Cabbie Resorts To Spying On Unsuspecting Men—
“Enjoying the view?” The slow drawl, rich and deep and slightly amused, slid into her ears.
Lucky’s heart stalled, only to rev full speed ahead when she lifted one lid a fraction and saw a pair of large, tanned feet, the toes mere inches from the tips of her sneakers.
Her one eye opened farther and her gaze traveled up a pair of muscular legs encased in faded and slightly damp jeans. The material molded every muscle, showing off his lean calves, powerful thighs. Her gaze hit his zippered fly that was only half zippered, and stopped for a long moment. A wave of heat rushed to her cheeks and she forced her other eye open to get the full view. Not that she actually saw it, not that she wanted to, of course. Where the metal teeth parted, she saw only tanned skin and a funnel of dark, silky hair that swirled up over an incredibly tight abdomen. But the sight was enough to make her swallow. Hard.
“I guess you are.” Tyler folded his arms across his chest and swept his gaze over the woman. At least he thought it was a woman. It was hard to tell, dressed as she was in faded baggy jeans—He did a double take. Make that unfastened jeans.
He stored that information for safekeeping and pushed his attention higher to the T-shirt plastered to her chest. The white material clung, to her, outlining small but perfectly shaped breasts. Her nipples swelled, stretching the material to taut little points and he did some heavy-duty swallowing of his own. Okay, it wasn’t that hard to tell. Definitely a woman.
“W-what?”
Her question forced his gaze to the final frontier. Her hair lay hidden beneath her cap, with the exception of a few dark tendrils collapsed against the slender curve of her neck. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat, her pink lips parted, her face damp with perspiration.
“I’m sorry,” she went on. Wide eyes the color of warm cocoa collided with his. “I didn’t hear you.”
He smiled. “I asked if you were enjoying the view.” But Tyler was doing a little enjoying of his own. Not so much from the sight of her, even though that was agreeable enough. No, it was the way she looked at him. Like a child eyeing the last cookie, the want plain and undisguised in her big brown eyes, and she didn’t even know the size of his bank account Of course, his money wasn’t all women were interested in. He’d met some who just wanted a roll in the hay. But this one was different. Mixed in with that hungry light was an innocence he hadn’t seen in a long time. And with all that hungry innocence directed at him, his jeans grew awful snug in certain strategic places.
“So are you?” he asked, shifting his stance to give a specific body part a little more room.
“Yeah—I mean no. I mean...” She shook her head. “Yes, the view was—is nice, but that’s not why I’m standing here.”
“Really? Then why are you standing here?”
“I had a flat tire on the dirt road back there.” She turned and pointed, but couldn’t quite make up her mind in which direction. “Some dirt road. Anyway, I’m not sure where it’s at now. That’s why I’m here. I’m lost.”
“Lost? So that’s why you were spying on me?”
“Exactly—no, not exactly. Look, I heard water and thought I might find someone who could steer me in the right direction.”
“So why didn’t you ask me for directions instead of hiding behind this tree?”
“I wasn’t hiding.” He raised his eyebrows and watched her face flush an even brighter crimson. “Okay, so I was hiding.”
“Not a very effective way to get directions. I would have come right out and asked.”
“Oh, really? You’d ask a naked stranger for directions?”
“I would if the naked stranger were me.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense. You can’t be your own naked stranger.”
“Good point. Let’s see, who could be my naked stranger?” He stepped closer, one arm shooting out to lean against the tree. He gazed at the unfastened button on her jeans. “Wait a second. You could be my naked stranger.”
“What are you talking—” She glanced down. “Uh-oh.”
“Planning on joining me in my nakedness?”
“Of course not.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Great. This is just great.”
“Not yet, but it could be.”
Her eyes snapped open. “What?”
“This—you and me—two naked strangers.”
“I think one naked stranger is enough.” She grabbed at her waistband with frantic fingers.
“Here. Let me.”
“No, that’s all right. This always happens to me—” His fingers brushed hers. Flesh met flesh and her hands stilled. Their gazes locked as they waited to see what he would do next.
Another breathless moment and Tyler slid the button into place. The action seemed to relax her. Relief eased her expression. “Do you always walk around with your pants undone?”
“My pants, my shoelaces, a few buttons on my shirt.” She gave him a look that said she’d given the subject a great deal of thought. “I try, but it seems I’m always missing something.”
“That must be quite a sight. A shame you’re not from around here.”
“No, it’s fortunate.” She blew out a long breath. “Geez, but it’s hot here. Speaking of which, where is here?”
“Here is private property.”
“Oh.” As if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, instead of simply ogling the cookie, she added, “I’m sorry. If you’ll point me in the right direction, I’ll be going.”
“I thought you didn’t ask naked strangers for directions?”
“You’re not naked. Not anymore.”
He glanced down at his bare chest. “Almost.”
“Well, almost isn’t naked.” She ducked under his arm and moved around him. “Is it?”
“No, but it’s close enough.” He turned toward her, closing the few inches of distance she’d opened between them.
“I could scream.”
“You could, but what for? Because I’m a stranger, or because I’m almost naked?”
“Maybe both.”
“But I’m not the stranger here. You are. Besides,” he said, holding up his hands. “I never molest trespassers. Shoot them maybe. But never molest them.” His words drew a smile from her. “So tell me, how did you get this far off the road?”
“I was looking for a tree. One tree.” She laughed. “Now I’m surrounded by them.”
“Well, to get unsurrounded, you head that way.” He pointed to his left. “Straight through those trees about five minutes, then you’ll be in open pasture. You’ll see the road from there.”
“Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
“No,” she said over her shoulder as she started off through the trees. “It was definitely my pleasure. You’ve got a great set of buns.”
“I wish I could say the same.” But her jeans were too baggy and he couldn’t quite make out any curves. And that was the real shame, he thought as he watched her disappear between two towering oaks, because it had been quite a while since Tyler Grant had wanted to look. Really wanted to look. Damn.
If he’d had even half the wild child le
ft in him, he’d have coaxed her out of those pants and seen for himself. But sixteen years away had tamed the hellion he’d once been. At thirty-two, he was exactly what his mother had always wanted him to be: a gentleman. Funny thing was, Tyler Grant had never regretted it until now.
2
WHEN LUCKY finally broke free from the trees, she saw her cab on the horizon. Breathless moments later, she vaulted over the fence and stared behind her. The pasture was empty, the grass swaying with the faint breeze. Not a sign of Tight Tush.
Unfortunately, her hormones whispered.
Thankfully, her brain corrected. As if he would have followed her in the first place. He’d been flirting. Just innocent flirting. She’d seen it time and time again.
But no one had ever directed any flirting at her and she was still a little shaken up over it. More so because she’d liked it. Yeah, she’d liked it a lot, she thought, climbing into the cab.
She definitely had to step up her manhunting efforts. Maybe if she smiled a little, invested in one of those push-up bras, she might persuade Buster—Wait a minute. Buster?
Yeah, Buster, her desperate hormones insisted. He was nice enough, maybe a little crass. He didn’t do drugs, though she often wondered, considering how clueless he was when it came to the opposite sex. He was sweet at times. Funny. Obnoxious.
Available, her hormones chimed in. And gainfully employed, and that’s all Lucky really needed.
That, and to find Tyler Grant, she thought as she shot a glance at the wallet sitting next to her on the seat.
She’d barely started the engine when she heard sirens. She glanced in her rearview mirror to see a cloud of dust on the horizon and a set of whirling red and blue lights. The sheriff’s car pulled up behind her in a matter of seconds.
Lucky killed the engine when two uniform-clad officers climbed out of the car. One was a large man, intimidating in his starched beige uniform and wide-brimmed hat. Straight out of an old Smokey and the Bandit movie. She adjusted her rearview mirror to get a glimpse of his sidekick. He looked friendlier, his expression mildly curious as he licked an ice-cream cone.
Gettin' Lucky (Love and Laughter) Page 2