“You want any more kisses?”
“More than I want my next breath of oxygen.”
“Then brush. I’m not kissing you unless you do.”
“Yes’m.” He brushed his teeth, scowling at himself in the mirror.
Annie checked the tub, and finding it full, turned off the taps. She returned to the sink and filled a glass with water. “Spit,” she said to Dallas, “and then rinse.”
She held the glass to his lips like she would for a child. “Now strip. It’s time for your bath.”
He grinned. “I don’t strip unless you do.”
“Ha-ha. Do you really think you have any power here?” She unbuttoned his shirt, discarded it, pushed him down on the toilet seat, and pulled off his boots and socks. “Now the jeans, Cowboy.” She took a deep breath, trying to rein in her scalding desire at the sight of his chest, and unbuckled his belt. She closed her eyes and completed the job. She quivered when, pushing his jeans and boxers to the floor, she brushed the hot skin of his hips.
She opened her eyes slowly. He was completely and totally aroused. With a devil may care grin on his handsome face.
“Damn, Cowboy. You’re stinking drunk. How is this possible?”
“Because you’re here.”
“Whatever. In the tub.”
“I’m serious. I’m hard as stone whenever you’re around. I can’t control it. It’s starting to piss me off, to tell you the truth.”
“I’ll bet. In the tub. Now.”
He stepped in obediently. “You gonna wash me?”
“No.” She turned.
“Please? At least get in with me. This tub is huge. There’s plenty of room.”
“Absolutely not.” But she wanted to. So badly she could barely breathe. “I’ll go see about your coffee. When I get back here I expect to see your hair washed.”
“You promised me kisses if I brushed my teeth.”
“I did no such thing.”
“You did!”
“Nope. You weren’t listening. I said I wouldn’t kiss you if you didn’t brush your teeth. I didn’t say I would if you did.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Too bad. Happy bathing.”
She walked out and shut the door behind her. She leaned against the wall, her heart pounding in her chest, imagining the slick warm water flowing over his beautiful body. Panting, she left the room.
Ten minutes later, she ran back in, terrified that he might pass out and drown. What had she been thinking, leaving him alone? He was nearly incapacitated.
“Thank God,” she said, when she saw him lounging in the tub, unharmed. But his hair wasn’t wet. Now she was pissed. “You were supposed to wash your hair.”
“I want you to do it.”
“Sorry. No dice.”
“Please? I’ll stop asking for kisses if you wash my hair.”
“You will?”
“No.” He chuckled. “But it was worth a try.”
“Get cracking. Now.”
His lazy smile spread across his face. “No shampoo.”
“What? Oh crap.” Annie grabbed a bottle of shampoo out of the shower stall and returned to the tub and handed it to him.
Within seconds, he had grabbed her wrist and into the tub she tumbled, fully clothed. She sputtered as water sloshed over the sides of the tub. “Damn you! Now look what you did.”
“Now you have to wash my hair.”
“I don’t have to do anything but stay Italian and die, Cowboy.” She struggled against his hold. “Let me go!”
“Kiss me.”
“No, damn it, let me go!”
For a drunk, his grip on her was like a vise. The more she struggled, the wetter she became, until he eventually turned and pinned her against the side of the tub. She opened her mouth to protest and he clamped onto her, thrusting his tongue between her lips.
The kiss was exquisite torture. She pushed at him at first, but his slick naked body slid under her touch. He, however, fisted his hands in the wet fabric of her blouse and held on for dear life. After several minutes of unsuccessful grappling, she surrendered and sighed into his mouth.
His groans fueled her passion, and she pressed her soggy clothed body to his. When they broke to breathe, he nibbled across her lower lip.
“I want you so much,” he said.
“Mmm,” was her reply.
“Take off your clothes. Please. Make love with me.” His smoky whisper was threaded with desire.
“You’re killing me, Dallas. This isn’t fair.”
“You want me. I can feel it.”
“I want you. I won’t deny it. I can’t. But as soon as you sober up you’ll ditch me again. So the answer is no.” She pushed him away, successful this time, and scrambled out of the tub. She threw him the bottle of shampoo. “When I come back in here, I expect that hair to be clean, along with the rest of you.”
Sopping, she left the bathroom, making a mental note to wipe up the floor before he got out of the tub. In his condition, he’d likely slip and harm himself. She rolled her eyes, berating herself for giving a damn. She’d dry the freaking floor for him. Despite everything, she couldn’t bear the thought of him hurting himself.
Back in the bedroom, she stripped off her drenched clothes and pawed through his dresser for something to wear. She found a pair of striped cotton pajamas that looked brand new. She dried herself off and put the garments on. They hung on her, but the pants had a drawstring that she tightened around her waist. She cuffed them to her ankles and looked in the mirror. She laughed to herself, more at the sheer absurdity of her present situation, rather than out of humor. She certainly wouldn’t win any fashion contests, but it would do. She picked up her wet clothes and went in search of the dryer.
Traipsing through Dallas’s huge house, she finally found the laundry room hidden in a corner of the first floor. Like everything else in the sprawling ranch house, it was oversized, about the size of Annie’s living room in her tiny apartment above the clinic. She started her clothes on the gentle cycle, and then went to the kitchen and poured a large mug of coffee for Dallas. She padded barefoot back up the stairs to the bedroom and placed the coffee on Dallas’s night table. Sighing, she went into the bathroom to check on him. His hair was wet, though whether it was from a shampoo or their earlier grappling session, she wasn’t sure. At any rate, she was done fighting with him, and the water was losing its heat, so she decided it was time to get him to bed.
“Are those my pajamas?” he asked.
“I had to put something on. My clothes are in the dryer.”
“God, you look sexy.”
“I look like a frumpy housewife.”
“You could never look frumpy, Doc. Damn, I want you.”
“So you’ve said.” She held out a towel for him. “Come on. Let’s dry you off and get you to bed.”
“Now you’re talkin’.”
“For sleep, Cowboy. You’re going to pass out within minutes.”
“Not a chance, as long as I know you’re here.”
“No problem, then. As soon as I get you bedded down and my clothes are dry, I’m outta here.” She jiggled the towel at him. “Come on now.”
He let out a sigh and stood up and stepped out of the tub.
“Oops,” Annie said. “I meant to wipe up the floor. It’s wet, so be real careful, okay?”
“I’m fine. A little chilly, though.”
“The water was losing its heat. Don’t worry.” She rubbed him with the towel. “I’ve got some hot coffee for you. You’ll be snug as a bug in no time.”
“Stay with me?”
“Sorry.” She wiped the last of the moisture from his body and toweled off his hair. “Come on.” She led him into the bedroom and helped him into a clean pair of boxers. “Lie down, now. Like a good boy.”
“I am a good boy. I always was. I never made”—he let out a lion’s yawn—“the same mistake twice.”
“So I’ve heard.” She handed him his coffee. “Take a few sips.
It’ll warm you.”
“Thanks.” He took a sip and promptly choked. “Damn. What is this? Sludge?”
“It’s coffee, you idiot. Now drink.”
“This ain’t coffee, Doc. It’s pine tar.”
“Quit your whining. I don’t drink the stuff. How am I supposed to know how to make it? Now drink.”
“Yes’m.” He and took two more sips, screwing his face into distortion. “That’s all I can take. If your intent was to punish me for my overindulgence, consider yourself successful.”
“Funny man. Lie down now.”
“Come lie with me.”
“Nope.”
“Please? I don’t want to be alone.”
The words crushed into her heart. They were the same words she had said to him the first night they spent together. He had stayed.
So would she.
“All right. I’ll bed down in one of your guest rooms.”
“No. Here. With me.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Don’t care. Please.”
She sighed. He had stayed with her that first night and held her when she needed him. “Fine. You’ll be passed out within ten minutes anyway. Then I can turn the blasted channel to something other than sports.”
He chuckled into his pillow. “A romantic comedy I bet.”
“Action I think. Something with Bruce Willis or Arnold. Better yet, Gerard Butler. He was hot in 300.”
“Annalisa,” he said softly.
“I’m here, Cowboy. Right here.” She kissed his forehead lightly.
“I should have never seduced you. Wasn’t right.”
“Ha. What makes you think you did the seducing?” Annie pulled a crisp cotton sheet over his body.
“Shouldn’t have. Wasn’t gentlemanly.” He yawned, his jaw opening farther than Annie thought possible. “I don’t do things like that. Never before. But I wanted you so much. Couldn’t control myself. Still want you. Annalisa.”
“It’s okay, Dallas. I understand.” She didn’t, but he needed comfort right now, not an argument. “Sleep now.”
“Annalisa,” he said again. “So pretty. Annalisa.” He sighed lightly and closed his eyes, his ebony lashes settling against his cheeks. “Annalisa,” he whispered. “I love you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Annie sat, mesmerized by his steady slumberous breathing. A lone tear trickled slowly down her cheek. She locked her gaze on his handsome face. The tear fell from her face to his and began meandering through the stubble of several days’ growth of beard. She lowered her lips and kissed it away.
He wouldn’t remember saying the words, and she wouldn’t fool herself into thinking he’d actually meant them. But oh, she wanted to believe it. She so wanted to believe it.
Because she loved him.
She would do what she had to do to be with him. She’d tell him the truth tomorrow. All of it. Every last horrible detail. When he was sober. If he turned his back on her, so be it. She’d be no worse off than she was this very moment.
Forgetting about her desire for an action adventure movie, she clicked off the television, snuggled under the covers, and smoothed her hand over Dallas’s shoulder, down his arm, over his hip and thigh. His skin was warming. She cuddled into his back and kissed his shoulder.
“Good night, Cowboy,” she whispered.
* * *
Dallas was still out cold when the sun rose. Annie stretched and got out of bed. She went to the bathroom, took a quick shower, and fetched her clothes from the dryer. Once dressed, she made a tummy-healthy breakfast of scrambled eggs and hash browns, left some for Dallas, and headed in her car to the herding site to check on the sick cattle.
After saying hi to the hands, she examined the stock and breathed a sigh of relief when she found no new sick animals. It must be the grain then. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed the clinic to check for messages. Nothing yet. She administered doses of sodium thiosulphate to the recovering steers, but before she could get to her car, Doug Cartwright drove up in his police car with Chad in the passenger seat.
“Hey, Annie,” Doug said, the sun casting glints in his red hair. “You’re up with the birds.”
“Just checking on the stock,” she said. “No new sick ones today, which is good.”
“That’s great,” Chad said.
“I tried calling Dallas, but he’s not answering,” Doug said.
“I’m not surprised.” Annie rolled her eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Do you have any news?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. One of my deputies got an anonymous call late last night.”
“And?”
“It seems one of Dallas’s men may have been paid off to poison the grain.”
“I thought he trusted his men.”
“He did,” Chad said. “But if the price is right, even the most honest man can take a tumble.”
Annie knew the truth of Chad’s words. She had seen her ex-husband turn from nice guy to violent criminal all for the sake of money. “Any idea which one it is?”
“I’m going to start questioning them today. We’ll find the culprit.”
“I hope he hangs,” Annie said. “Anyone who hurts innocent animals is a monster.”
“Well, babe, hangin’ kind of went out a century ago, but we’ll see he’s taken care of.” Doug winked at her.
“You know what I mean.”
“I sure do,” Chad said, “and I agree with you. Any man who’d hurt an animal ain’t nothing but a coward.”
“Can’t say I disagree with either one of you.” Doug raked his fingers through his auburn mane. “I don’t want to start questioning the men without Dallas though.”
“I can go up to the house and get him,” Chad offered.
“If you don’t mind, that’d be great,” Doug said. “I’ll just stay here and keep Annie company.”
Annie forced a smile. Doug Cartwright wanted more than to keep her company. It was written all over his face. “No need,” she said. “I’m done here.”
* * *
A thousand wildebeests were stampeding inside Dallas’s head. It hurt to move. Hell, it hurt to breathe. Fragments of the previous evening came to him. Lying supine on his bed, sucking on a bottle of Macallan. Calling Annie. Annie helping him to the bathroom. Kissing her in the tub. He smiled at that one. Her silky hands helping him into a pair of boxers and putting him to bed. She had stayed. So where was she now?
Cursing, he walked to the bathroom and swallowed four ibuprofen. He quickly dressed and went to the kitchen. On the table was a note.
Good morning, sunshine. Your breakfast is in the fridge. Microwave for two minutes and eat every bite. I didn’t bother making any coffee.
A.
P.S. Some lemongrass herb tea will help the headache.
He smiled. Lemongrass herb tea. God, she’s adorable. God, I love her. If only she had stayed. If only she were here now. If only…
He was wiping his lips after breakfast when Chad came in the back door. Though his brother shut the door gently, the thud echoed in Dallas’s aching head.
“Quiet, will you?”
“Sorry, bro. Doug’s out at the site. He needs to talk to you.”
“Have you seen Annie?”
“She’s out there too, checking on the stock.”
“Good. She’s still here.”
“What? You don’t mean—”
“No. Nothing like that. She just…took care of me last night. I had a little too much to drink.”
“Sweet girl.”
“She is that. I wish…”
“Don’t wish, Dallas. Just make it happen.”
“Can’t. So what does Doug want?”
“He wants to question your men. He got an anonymous call last night that one of them was paid off to poison your stock.”
“What? Damn.” Dallas rubbed his temples. “I can’t believe that.”
“I know it’s ha
rd to fathom, but it could be true. After all, someone poisoned those steers.”
“It couldn’t have been one of my guys.”
“No one else has access to your barns.”
“Someone could have broken in.”
“But no one did. Doug would have found evidence if there had been a break in.”
“God damn it all to hell.”
“I hear you talkin’. Trust me, I’m as upset as you are. You should have seen Annie when he told her. She was chomping at the bit for a hanging, no less.”
“A hanging?”
“Seems she hates animal abusers.”
“Of course she does. She’s a vet.”
“Yeah, well, she’s out there waiting for you.”
“She is?”
“Well, Doug is.”
“Right.” Dallas stood up. “Damn, my head hurts. Let’s go.”
Annie had left by the time Dallas and Chad got to the herding site.
“Said she had to get back and check in at her office,” Doug told them. “Said to call when you found anything out. And she’d call or come out with the lab results when she got them.”
“Okay,” Dallas said. “Well, let’s get on with it.”
“This ain’t going to be a picnic, Dallas,” Doug warned. “Your men’ll get defensive.”
“Yeah, I know. But let’s get it done.”
“You’re sure you’re up to this?”
“Hell, no. I’ve got twenty jackhammers pounding in my head right now. But damn it, no one messes with my livestock and gets away with it, so let’s get it over with.”
* * *
Four hours later, Dallas’s head hurt worse than ever. Grilling his men had taken its toll, and Doug had a suspect that he dragged to his station for further questioning. A young man who had been with Dallas for several years. Morgan Bailey. Single. No immediate family in the area. Ripe for the picking.
But young. And weak. A little rough talk from Doug and he had squealed like a pig.
And the worst part? The trail led to a man named Jon Parker, chief legal officer for Beaumont Enterprises, his ex-father-in-law’s business.
Jon Parker. Chelsea had mentioned him on more than one occasion. They had been friends since seventh grade or something like that. For a while, Jon had been obsessed with Chelsea. Apparently he still was. But why would Chelsea want to hurt Dallas’s cattle? He had given the bitch seven figures, for God’s sake.
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