by HELEN HARDT
“I was always so sorry about what happened to your mama. How she got sick and all.”
“It’s all right. I don’t remember much. I was young.”
“You remember more than you think you do. You remember that song.”
Dusty said nothing as Zach lifted her chin so she was looking straight into his eyes. “You were such a cute little tomboy back then. I knew you didn’t understand what was happening to your mama. I always wished I could make it better for you.”
Dusty widened her eyes. “Did you? You always picked on me.”
“That was just me being an idiot kid,” Zach said. “When I found out your mama was terminal and they couldn’t help her anymore, I wished I had the power of God to erase that sadness in your big brown eyes.” He skimmed his callused thumb over her lips.
Words, mere words, but they touched her even more than the spark of his fingers on her mouth. “That’s kind of you. I had no idea.”
“I know you didn’t.”
“Well…” Dusty struggled to regain her composure. “We survived.”
“But you still miss her.”
“I probably always will. Don’t you miss your father?”
“Yeah, I do. But I was a grown man when he died. It’s different.”
“I suppose so. It was different when my papa died.”
“Hey”—he cupped her cheek in his hand—“do you want to take a break? I haven’t had breakfast yet. I’m famished, and I could use some caffeine.”
“But Diablo—”
“I’ll bring you back here after we eat,” he said.
“And you’ll try not to interfere?”
He grinned broadly. “Can’t make that promise, darlin’.”
Dusty shrugged her shoulders. A girl had to eat. “Fine. I’m hungry anyway.”
* * *
Again, Zach relished watching Dusty eat. He wondered for a moment how she could stay so fit when she ate like a horse, but then realized she stayed lean the same way he did. Ranch work and rodeos. When his stomach was full and two cups of coffee had given him the burst he needed, he brought Dusty back to Diablo’s pen.
“All right,” she said, looking at him fiercely. “I’m going to try again now. No interfering.”
“You going to sing that pretty song again?”
“Eventually. You don’t stop doing what works. How about you stand over there?” She pointed to a couple bales of hay next to one of the practice rings.
“Sorry, darlin.’ I stay here. That was the deal.”
“Zach, please?”
“Look”—he cupped her face in both hands—“I need to be serious for a minute. I know you think you can handle this bull, but up until now, I’m the only one who he’s even halfway listened to. I need to be here. I can’t risk you getting hurt.”
“I never knew you cared.” She smiled.
Was she flirting? He looked into her big baby browns. No, definitely not flirting. Facetiousness, that’s what it was. The fact was he did care. He cared about anyone who might get injured by his livestock. “Of course I care. Diablo’s my responsibility, and so is anyone who comes in contact with him.”
“Then why did you offer the purse to anyone who could ride him? Surely you know it’s possible that someone could get hurt.”
“That’s what disclaimers are for, darlin’.”
“Do you want me to sign your disclaimer? I’d be happy to, because I can tell you right now that this bull is not going to hurt me.”
He shook his head. She was something else. Her steadfast obstinacy only made her more appealing. She continued to stare at him indignantly. Her long braid had fallen over one shoulder, curving over the knoll of her chest. He imagined her hair unbraided, a mass of golden curls flowing around her naked breasts, hardened ruby nipples peeking through.
God, I have to get a grip. I don’t need a boner right now.
“I don’t want you to sign anything. I won’t let him hurt you.”
Dusty nodded and turned to Diablo.
As she walked around the pen and spoke softly, a shrill noise cut into his thoughts.
“Zach! There you are!”
Dusty turned toward the commotion, her eyebrows raised. “Who’s that?”
He didn’t have to turn around. He recognized the voice.
Angelina. His ex-fiancée.
Chapter Four
Zach didn’t answer. The tall slender woman approached Diablo’s pen. Her brown curls were pulled into two bunches over each ear, and she wore crisp jeans and a pink gingham blouse. Dusty groaned. Who did she think she was? Mary Ann from Gilligan’s Island?
The woman threw her arms around Zach and kissed his cheek. “How are you? I’ve been hoping to run into you.”
“I’m fine.”
“And who might this be?” she asked, looking behind Zach at Dusty, who stood next to Diablo’s pen. The bull munched hungrily at some hay.
“Oh. This is Dusty. Dusty O’Donovan. Her pa used to work at McCray Landing.”
“Silly”—the woman tossed her twin ponytails, her hands on Zach’s shoulders—“I didn’t mean her. I meant the bull.”
Mary Ann’s giggling laughter grated. Yeah, funny. She meant the bull. Dusty walked toward them. She wouldn’t be ignored or belittled.
“The bull’s Diablo,” she said. “And I’m going to ride him.”
Zach cleared his throat. “Darlin’, I’ve told you before—”
“And you are?” Dusty interrupted, holding out her hand.
The woman shook Dusty’s hand limply. “Angelina,” she said. “Angelina Bay. Zach and I are…that is, we used to be engaged.”
“Nice to meet you, Angelina,” Dusty said sweetly. “Are you involved in the rodeo?”
“Oh, goodness no.” She tossed her ponytails again. “My brother is though. He’s a bronc buster and a bull rider. And my daddy’s entering some livestock in the show. We raise prime beef at our ranch. I’m sure you’ve heard of it, Bay Crossing? On the western slope?”
“Can’t say that I have,” Dusty said, rubbing her hands on her thighs. Her palms were sweaty for some reason.
“Dusty’s from Montana,” Zach said.
“How nice. Do you ride bulls there, Donna?”
While Dusty seethed, Zach answered for her. “It’s Dusty.”
“Of course, what a cute little name.”
“Isn’t it?” Dusty fought her anger, wishing she could control the crimson she knew was rising in her cheeks. “And yes, I do ride bulls in Montana. And here.”
“A female bull rider. You must be tough as nails.”
“It’s not toughness that makes a good bull rider, Andromeda.”
“It’s Angelina.”
“Of course.” Dusty smirked. Resisting the urge to add the “what a cute little name” remark showed her maturity. Okay, even she didn’t buy that, but Andromeda had been a good one. Inspired.
“If you’ll excuse us, Angie,” Zach said, “Dusty and I have some work to do with Diablo.”
“So this is the one with the half mil purse,” Angelina said, ignoring Zach’s obvious attempt to get rid of her.
“Yes,” Dusty said, before Zach could open his mouth to respond.
“I bet Harper could ride him,” Angelina said.
“Who’s Harper?” Dusty asked.
“My brother. He’s a champ.”
“He’s welcome to try,” Zach said, “as long as he signs the disclaimer. You remember Chad’s accident last year, don’t you?”
“Yes. But honestly, Zach, I think Harper’s a better rider than Chad.”
Zach snorted. “I beg to differ, but he can try if he wants to.”
“I’ll definitely speak to him about it,” she said. Then, “I’d love to get together for lunch and catch up. Are you free today?”
“’Fraid not.”
“Oh, shoot.” Angelina’s lips turned into a pout. “How about tonight then? Harper and I are throwing a gala in the Westminster room at the Windsor. Y
ou’ve got to come.”
“Dusty and I have plans.”
“We do?”
“Yeah, darlin’, we do,” Zach said, winking at her.
“Shucks,” Angelina said, batting her eyes. “You two make a cute little couple.”
“Oh, we’re not a cou—”
“Hush, darlin’.” Zach’s arms went around Dusty and he pulled her close.
“Please say you’ll come, Zach. You can bring her along.”
Zach cleared his throat. “We appreciate the invitation, Angie, but—”
“We’d love to come,” Dusty said, interrupting. “We absolutely wouldn’t miss it. What time?”
“Around eight. Heavy appetizers and desserts. And an open bar, of course.”
“You don’t mind if we invite Chad along do you? And my brother? He and Chad are old friends.”
“Of course.” Angelina’s lips broadened in a saccharine smile. “We’d love to have them.” She turned to focus on Zach. “I ran into Chelsea earlier and invited her and Dallas. I’m looking forward to seeing all of you. Ta-ta.” Angelina turned to walk away, but looked over her shoulder. “I’ll have Harper get in touch with you about the bull.”
“You do that,” Zach said, sliding his hand down Dusty’s back to squeeze the cheek of her bottom.
Dusty jolted. “What the hell are you doing?” Her whisper was urgent. “She can’t even see that.”
“So? You deserve it for telling her we’d go to her shindig.”
Dusty shrugged away from him. “Serves you right, for trying to use me as a pawn in your love life.”
“Now, darlin’”—he pulled her into his embrace again—“I have no intention of using you as a pawn. But I do want you in my love life.”
When his mouth came down on hers, Dusty gasped, giving him the opening he sought.
Oh God, oh God, oh God. Magic again. His mouth was as silky and sweet as it had been the night before, and his tongue was just as carnal and relentless. The kiss was unwavering, drugging. Dusty responded. She had no choice. She moaned as she surrendered.
When he withdrew his tongue, she whimpered at the loss, but when he started nibbling his way across her bottom lip, she shuddered. When he sucked it between his teeth, she hissed. And when he licked inside her lips, running his tongue around her teeth and gums in little flicks, her knees weakened and she nearly swooned.
He caught her in his strong arms. “That’s right, darlin’. Just enjoy it.” He continued his assault on her mouth.
Oh, the sensation, the sweet joining of tongues. Dusty gave in to his domination of her mouth. She wilted in his arms as he licked and bit at her. He not only gave, he took, kissing her with a reckless abandon she had never known. She was losing herself, but she didn’t care.
A soft smack echoed as Zach broke the kiss. Dusty gasped, panting and puffing as he nibbled on her neck, her ear.
“Come with me, darlin’,” he whispered, and took her hand and walked briskly toward a blue pickup.
Dusty tried to break free, but he held her firmly.
“Oh, no, you’re not getting away from me this time.”
They reached the truck, and he grabbed her and kissed her again, completely eradicating her will to refuse him.
Her eyes closed and her mind reeling, she felt him open the door of the truck behind her and gently shove her inside. Before she had time to think, he was beside her in the driver’s seat and had pulled her into his arms again. He pressed his lips to her neck as he fumbled with the buttons on her shirt, pulling the tail from her waistband. Soon his big strong hands were on her breasts, kneading them, thumbing her erect nipples through her lacy bra.
“Oh, God,” he murmured. “You’re so perfect. So beautiful.” He lowered his head and took a rosy nipple in his mouth, sucking her through the fabric.
Her muscles tightened as desire rushed through her. She was a goner now. But at twenty-three, she wasn’t going to have sex in a car like some horny teenager.
“Zach.” She hardly recognized her own voice.
“What, darlin’?” He panted in her ear.
“I…I’m not going to screw you in a truck.” She trembled as he pushed her bra up, releasing her breasts to fall gently against her chest.
“We’re not going to screw.” He kissed the plump white skin surrounding her nipple and flicked his tongue over the rosy bud.
Dusty jolted backward, but his arm steadied her.
“We’re going to make slow, sweet, passionate love.”
Oh God, yes. Slow, sweet, passionate love. But not in a truck.
“But not in your truck, Zach.”
“No,” he rasped, “not in a truck.” He tongued her nipple, biting it gently and tugging.
She squirmed against the dampness between her legs. He sucked one nipple and then the other, using his teeth, his lips, and his tongue to torment her. She heard herself moaning, whispering words of encouragement for him to keep going. What was happening to her?
Her nipples were deep scarlet and tingling when he cupped her breasts gently and returned to her mouth for another firm kiss.
“I want you so much,” he said into her mouth. “I want to make love to you.”
“Yes, Zach.” She puffed against his cheek. “Yes, make love to me.”
“I want you naked, under me.”
“Oh, yes.”
“I want to sink myself deep inside you.”
“God, yes. Yes.”
He grabbed her hand and led it to his arousal. Dusty reveled at the hardness under her palm. She began to stimulate him through his jeans.
“Oh, yeah, darlin’. That feels so good.”
He slid her shirt from her shoulder and kissed her there, bit into her, and licked to soothe the sting.
“Zach.” Her voice sounded husky, throaty.
“Hmm?” He slid his tongue over her shoulder, up her neck, nuzzling her pulse point.
“Not here.”
“Right.” He broke away from her, leaning back in his seat, beads of sweat trickling from his brow. Her hand was still on his crotch. “Damn.” He exhaled slowly, his breath whooshing from his strong body. “You get to me, woman.”
Dusty removed her hand from him and leaned back into the passenger seat, trying to steady her breathing. “I-I don’t mean to.”
He reached for her hand and entwined their fingers together. “It’s not a bad thing, darlin’.”
With those words, she catapulted back into reality. It was a bad thing. She had to stop it.
Oh, she didn’t want to. She ached for him, for his kisses, for his touch, for his sex embedded deep inside her. But she had to end this. She couldn’t get close to him, couldn’t let him in.
Couldn’t risk him learning the truth.
Quick as lightning, she disentangled her hand from his, grabbed the door handle, and fled.
Chapter Five
Zach cursed as Dusty ran away from him, her shirttail billowing in the winter breeze. The Colorado winter was mild, an Indian summer that had continued through January. No snow to speak of yet. Zach wanted to run after her, to find out what was wrong, but he was so hard he couldn’t move.
What was it about this woman? He wanted her like he had never wanted anything. Clearly, she felt it too. So why did she keep running away?
He fished his keys out of his pocket, turned on the engine of his truck, and opened the windows, letting the January breeze flow through the cab. He thought it might help him cool off, but he didn’t hold much hope. He wanted to go after her, but she was out of sight now, and he had no idea where to look.
What could be troubling her? Was it his fault? He was the one who’d forced her to talk about her mother earlier, but she had seemed okay with that. Maybe it was the money thing. She and Sam were sharing a hotel room. Were things really that tight for them? Only one person, besides Dusty, had the answers. He grabbed his cell phone and dialed Chad.
“Hey, Zach,” Chad said into his ear.
“Hey. Have you
seen Sam this morning?”
“Yeah, he’s right here with me. We’re checking out some of the livestock, and then we’re going to head out for a bite of lunch. You want to meet us?”
“That’d be great, little brother.”
“Hey, I’m taller than you are.”
“You’re still my little brother. Where should I meet you?”
“M and D’s Barbecue. In about half an hour.”
“Great. I’ll be there.”
And I will find out what is going on with Dusty. Figuring out that sweet little thing had somehow become a priority for him.
* * *
M and D’s had the best barbecue in the nation. At least in Chad’s vocal opinion, and Zach agreed. Sam, however, had tears in his eyes and water running out his nose after the first few bites.
“I told you not to get the spicy sauce,” Chad said, laughing at his friend. “A Montana boy can’t take all the pequin and jalapenos.”
“Peking what?” Sam said, reaching for his water glass.
“Not Peking, you moron. This ain’t China. Pe-keen. As in hot chile peppers.” Chad motioned to their waitress. “We’re gonna need lots more water here. And a few Kleenex, please.” Chad turned to his brother. “You’re quiet today.”
“Ain’t much to say.” Zach munched on his ribs and turned to Sam. “O’Donovan, you’re red as a beet.”
“Really, I’m fine.” Sam coughed and drank more water.
“Dusty and I worked with Diablo this morning,” Zach heard himself say.
“Yeah?” Sam wiped his hands on his napkin. “How’d she do?”
“Okay, I guess. She sang him a lullaby.”
Chad erupted in laughter. “You’re kidding.”
“He’s not kidding,” Sam said. “It’s an old Irish lullaby our mama used to sing. It seems to work on bulls. At least it works for her.”
Chad rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say.”
Zach continued. “She did well with him actually. He seemed to respond. Truthfully, I was the one who got a little nervous. She reached out to touch him, and I freaked.”
“Dusty has good instincts,” Sam said. “You don’t have to worry about her with the bull. After all, he’s in a pen, and she’s not stupid.”