Surrender

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Surrender Page 28

by HELEN HARDT


  Dusty visibly cringed.

  “But tomorrow the vendor’s having a sale,” Chelsea continued. “Twenty-eight percent off in honor of his daughter’s twenty-eighth birthday. So like a good girl, I’ll wait until then to have it.”

  “I’m sure three thousand one thirty two is a fair price,” Dusty said.

  “Where’d that number come from?” Chelsea asked.

  “It’s twenty-eight percent off of your original price.”

  Chelsea’s heavily lined eyes widened. “How’d you do that?”

  “In my head.”

  “Dusty’s a math whiz,” Zach said.

  Dallas pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and punched in a few numbers. “Damn. She’s right.”

  “Of course she is,” Zach said.

  “What’s the square root of seven hundred eighty-nine?” Dallas asked.

  “I don’t think…” Dusty began.

  Zach watched her adorable face blush. Was she embarrassed by her ability?

  “Ha,” Chelsea said. “She can’t do it.”

  “Twenty-eight point zero eight nine, rounded,” Dusty said indignantly.

  “Damn,” Dallas said again.

  “Are you some kind of idiot savant?” Chelsea asked.

  Dusty’s forehead wrinkled. “Excuse me?”

  Zach gritted his teeth. “Damn, Dallas, can’t you keep a lid on her mouth?”

  “Dallas!” Chelsea whined.

  “Jesus Christ, Chelsea,” Dallas said. “That was just rude.”

  “You’re not taking her side, are you? It was a valid question, certainly not rude. You saw Rain Man.”

  “The woman’s obviously not autistic. She’s just good with numbers.”

  “Well, sorry.” Chelsea flounced away, her bashful skirt rustling.

  “What you see in her is beyond me.” Zach looked down at Dusty’s sad brown eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s no big deal, Zach.” Dusty looked away.

  “Hell yes, it is,” Zach said.

  “Please accept my apology,” Dallas said. “I know it’s no excuse, but she’s been in a mood all night.”

  “Fine,” Dusty said, as she turned to Zach. “I’m exhausted, so would you mind excusing me?”

  “I’ll take you to your hotel, darlin’.” Zach nodded to Dallas. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Zach wanted to take her up to his suite, but he had no intention of bedding her while she was upset about the run-in with Chelsea. And she had admitted to being tipsy. So much for his plan to make love to her tonight. He wanted to be sure she was completely sober and aware so she’d enjoy every mind-blowing minute.

  Besides, he wanted her to trust him. If he took her back now, without pressuring her for more, maybe she’d stop running and tell him what was going on.

  But he did give her a scalding good night kiss at her door. He was only human, after all.

  * * *

  “What’d you find out?”

  Chelsea McCray licked her lips. “Not much more than you already know. Her father worked at McCray Landing a while back. And she’s some kind of weird mathematical genius.”

  Angelina curled her mouth into a snarl. “What’s he see in her, anyway?”

  “You’ve got me.” Chelsea fidgeted with her small pink bag. “Pretty enough. But she’s clearly nothing more than a step above common trailer trash.”

  “I’ll get rid of her one way or another,” Angelina said.

  “Are you sure you want to marry into this family, anyway? Laurie’s enough to make a saint swear, the way she coddles those three boys. She and I have never gotten along.”

  “But Chelsea, she and my mother are like this.” Angelina held up two fingers side by side. “I’ll get along fine with her. And I’ll put in many good words for you.”

  “Honey, I don’t need any good words. I couldn’t care less if the shrew likes me. I have her firstborn. And his wallet. That’s all I need.”

  “And I’ll have her second born,” Angelina vowed.

  Chapter Six

  Zach was leaning against the fence surrounding the practice ring when Dusty, hauling her gear bag, arrived the next morning for her date with Diablo. In one hand, he held a brown paper bag, and in the other, a cup holder with two Starbucks cups.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  “Starving, actually,” she said.

  “You feeling okay?”

  “Yeah. I took two ibuprofen before I went to bed, just in case. I’m fine.”

  “Some coffee’ll help too.” He handed her a cup.

  “Thank you. You’re an angel.”

  “Definitely not.” He laughed. “But I take good care of my own.”

  His own?

  “I got you some breakfast, too.” He pulled out a foil-wrapped sandwich and handed it to her.

  “Thank you. But you don’t need to feed me all the time. I can fend for myself, you know.”

  “Sure you can. But it gives me pleasure to feed you. I like how you eat.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean, you’re not afraid to eat. When you’re hungry, you eat like you’re hungry.”

  Dusty raised an eyebrow. “Exactly how else would I eat?”

  “Like most women. Eating like a bird, or not at all, in front of a man, and then bingeing when they get home. When I buy a woman a meal, I expect her to eat it. Otherwise it’s a damn insult as far as I’m concerned.”

  “I guess you don’t have to worry about me on that count,” Dusty said. “I love to eat. Always have. I used to gorge on your ma’s cookies.”

  “Yeah, I recall.” The laugh lines at the edge of his eyes crinkled and made him even cuter.

  Did he really remember her that well from all those years ago? “I was just a little girl. You can’t possibly remember that much about me.”

  “Of course I do. You were always hanging around, running after Chad and Sam. You were cute as a button. Little tomboy, chasing grasshoppers and lizards. Animals flocked to you even then.”

  “I can’t believe it.”

  “Why not? You remember me, don’t you?”

  “Mostly I remember you tormenting me.”

  “Aw, come on. I was just teasin’. We’ve been through all that.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “You’re not going to hold that against me forever, are you, darlin’?”

  She smiled at him. She couldn’t help it. He looked so adorable. “No. I won’t hold it against you.”

  He took her hand, entwined their fingers together, and pulled her into his arms. “There are a few things I’ll let you hold against me, though. Your beautiful body, for instance.” He kissed her cheek and nibbled his way to her lips.

  “Oh, Zach.” She sighed into his mouth. “If you start this now…”

  “Hmm?”

  “If you start this now, I won’t get to work with Diablo.”

  He pressed his mouth to hers, ran his tongue over first her bottom lip and then her top one. The sensation was like moist butterfly wings, and she felt it everywhere, especially…

  Then his tongue was in her mouth, swirling. Unable to resist, she joined in the kiss, tasting him, feasting on him. Not able to get enough of him.

  “Zach…”

  “Hmm?”

  “Diablo.”

  “To hell with Diablo.”

  He kissed her again.

  She wasn’t sure she could ever get enough of him. What was it about him? She had run from him, tried to hide. Tried to rid herself of the feelings she knew would lead only to heartache. She didn’t want to run anymore. Didn’t want to hide…

  Sam was judging livestock all day and wouldn’t be back until early evening. Her room was vacant. Oh, God…

  “Zach?” Her tone was breathless, hoarse.

  “Yeah, darlin’?”

  “Take me to my hotel.”

  He grabbed her hand and they raced to his pickup.

  * * *

  They stood outside the do
or to her room while she fished for her key card.

  “You sure about this, darlin’?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She had a hard time breathing. “I’m sure, Zach. I want this.”

  Zach grabbed her purse from her. “Where the hell is that damn key?”

  He found it, pushed it in the slot, and pulled her into the room, shutting the door and pushing her body against it. His hardness protruded through his jeans and poked into her belly. She wanted to touch him everywhere, lick him everywhere. She wanted to rip his clothes off and her own, and get down and dirty right there on the hotel rug.

  “You’re so beautiful.” He cupped her face in his hands. “You have the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen.” He pushed his erection into her. “Do you feel that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Feel how much I want you. How much I hunger for you.”

  “Yes, yes.” Her breathing was unsteady, her pulse wild.

  “Do you want me?”

  “God, yes. Yes.”

  “Say it, darlin’. Say you want me.”

  “I want you.”

  His mouth, reckless and possessive, claimed hers. His strong arms enveloped her and carried her to the bed. He laid her down gently and unbuttoned her shirt. He moved slowly, letting his fingers linger as he tantalized each inch of flesh. She squirmed as tiny flames ignited every place he touched her. She wanted to rip her shirt off and move things along.

  When he finally exposed her breasts and lavished his attention on them, she wanted even more. She wanted to be naked. Naked under his touch. She wriggled and groaned, whispering his name.

  “Please,” she said, and found herself repeating the word.

  “Please what, darlin’?”

  “I…don’t know.”

  “Do you want me to touch you?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Here?” He cupped her breast, lightly running his thumb over her taut nipple.

  She shuddered.

  “Here?” He grazed his fingers lightly over her belly, circling them around her navel.

  She squirmed.

  “Here?” He unsnapped her jeans and ran his fingers under the waistband.

  Tremors surged through her. “Oh yes,” she said, sighing.

  He slowly unzipped her jeans, eased his hand inside her panties, and found a sensitive spot that sent her writhing.

  “Here?” His voice was hoarse, needy.

  “God, Zach. Yes.”

  His strong callused fingers toyed with her delicate folds. Heady. Wonderful. When he removed his hands, she whimpered. He swirled his tongue around his fingers, tasting her juices.

  “Mmm. You’re sweet as a peach.”

  He plunged his fingers back inside her panties. He smoothed over her folds again, and she gasped when one thick finger slid inside her.

  “Tight. So tight,” he whispered. “Damn, you’re going to be a sweet fuck.”

  His coarse words should have astonished her, but instead they turned her on, made her prickly and moist. Sweet fuck indeed. She wanted to be his sweet fuck. Sweeter than anything he’d ever had. His finger stretched her, filled her, stroked her. He moved in and out, around and around, finally settling on a place that drove her mad with wanting. She moaned, wailing his name, begging and pleading.

  “Darlin’, I want to make love to you.”

  “Yes, Zach. Yes. Make love to me.”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m going to make love to you like no one ever has before.”

  If only Dusty hadn’t chosen that moment to turn her head. She had wanted his lips on her ear, her neck. So she twisted to the right, her gaze landing on the night table.

  The phone sitting there.

  The message light was flashing.

  The red pulse of it consumed her, took over her heartbeat, her breath, her mind. A buzzing sound, surrounded by white noise, echoed in her head to the beat of the flashing light.

  * * *

  What had he done wrong?

  Zach stalked out to his pickup, bewildered. She had jumped off the bed and zipped up her jeans. Her beautiful breasts, reddened from his kisses and resting on her chest, had jiggled between the two sides of her unbuttoned shirt as she kicked him out. Unceremoniously. Thoroughly. No explanation.

  Was it because he had said she’d be a sweet fuck? He had meant it in a loving way. He didn’t consider what he wanted to do with her to be merely fucking. She knew that, didn’t she?

  She was so perfect. So beautiful. So tight and wet. He had never wanted anything, anyone, the way he wanted her. And not only because she was attractive. He liked her as a person. He liked that she loved animals. He liked that she was so dedicated to her ranch and to her brother. He liked that she could out eat a lot of men he knew, and that she wasn’t afraid to do it. He liked that she could do complicated calculations in her head. He liked that she was so determined to connect with Diablo. He liked that she was intelligent and brave.

  He liked her. He really, really liked her.

  He couldn’t remember ever liking a woman this much. It wasn’t…love was it? Nah, couldn’t be. Zach McCray didn’t fall in love.

  But he wasn’t about to give up. Dusty O’Donovan would soon find out getting rid of Zach McCray wasn’t so easy. He would get her to open up to him. And he’d get her into bed. One way or another.

  He stepped out of his cold shower to Mozart playing on his cell phone. “Yeah?”

  “Zach.” The deep voice was so like his own.

  Shit. Not Dallas. Not now. The only person he wanted to talk to less was Dallas’s stupid wife.

  “What is it?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “I can’t imagine what about.”

  “About your new girlfriend.”

  “I’m pretty sure that falls under the heading of ‘none of your damn business,’ Dallas.”

  “I’m concerned about you.”

  “You stopped being concerned about me the day I started walking.”

  “That’s not fair, Zach.”

  Zach snorted. “Sure enough is. When you weren’t playing pseudo father, you were ignoring Chad and me. So why should I listen to you now?”

  “Because I’m your brother, and I want what’s best for you.”

  “And in your opinion that’s not Dusty?”

  “Not by a long shot. She’s after your money, Zach.”

  “That’s Chelsea talking, not you. Not that I ever gave a damn what she thought, but after her performance last night, I sure as hell ain’t interested in her opinion.”

  “Damn it, I’m not the whipped lemming you and Chad like to think I am. I agree she was out of line. But this has nothing to do with Chelsea.”

  “Right,” Zach scoffed.

  “She’s not the right woman for you, Zach.”

  “You don’t know anything about me, especially not what kind of woman I want.”

  “She’s using you.”

  “She’s a sweet girl, and I don’t think she even knows how to use someone.”

  “Christ, you just met her.”

  “So? You and Chelsea knew each other for—what?—three weeks before you were engaged?”

  “That’s different. Chelsea’s different. She’s—”

  “From the Kennebunkport Beaumonts. Yeah, I know. A nice Yale girl. And I use the term nice loosely. Very loosely.”

  Dallas continued. “Where did Dusty go to school?”

  “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

  “Did she even go to school?”

  “Yeah.” For one year, but Dallas didn’t need to know that.

  “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “Then don’t try to keep me away from Dusty.” He cleared his throat. “This conversation is over, Dallas.” He hit End and tossed the phone on his bed. He dressed quickly and headed back to the stock show grounds.

  * * *

  “That’s right, sweetheart,” Dusty crooned to Diablo. “No one’s going to hurt you.”

  The bull was anxiou
s. Dusty could sense it. He had fed on a bale of hay and drunk several gallons of water, and although he should be relaxed after a huge meal, something was bothering him. Was it her? Was it because Zach wasn’t with her?

  She knew how Zach would react when he found out she had sneaked in to see Diablo, but she had needed it.

  She closed her eyes and concentrated for several moments. Then she walked around to his head and looked into his eyes. “Relax, relax,” she said, trying to soothe him. She began the lullaby, her gaze never straying from his.

  She sang it through three times before the bull began to relax. She reached out to touch his cheek. “Yes, that’s a good boy,” she said, stroking gently. His short hair was bristly yet soft. She caressed it, and then held her hand still, continuing to gaze into the animal’s brown eyes. “You’re not such a brute, are you?” She sang again, moving her hand slowly down to stroke his nose. He snorted, but she remained calm and left her hand where it was. Within minutes, the bull’s body loosened, and she saw gentleness in his eyes.

  Timidly, she reached out her other hand, but the boom of a flare gun sounded at that exact moment, startling Diablo. He snorted menacingly and shuffled his front paw on the dirt beneath him. Then he bucked his head and pushed Dusty backward. She landed on her behind.

  “Damn, damn!” She leaned back against a bale of hay, her rear end stinging from the fall. She cursed the gun that had ruined her connection with the bull, and she cursed herself for not being better able to control him.

  Why did I think I could control such a strong, beautiful animal? I can’t even control my own body, my own blood. Damn the bull, damn the blood, damn everything in the universe!

  The tears she’d tried so hard not to shed finally fell.

  * * *

  Zach found her there.

  Curled up next to Diablo’s pen in a fetal position, weeping.

  He didn’t try to talk to her, just sat her up and brushed the dirt and hay from her face and body. He pulled a red bandana out of his pocket, wiped the tears from her cheeks, and covered her nose and urged her to blow. He lifted her in his arms, carried her to his pickup, set her inside, and drove her to his hotel.

  “It’s okay, darlin’. Come on.” He helped her out of the passenger side and led her up to his suite of rooms on the top floor of the hotel. He nudged her inside and through the living area to the bedroom. Gently, he pushed her down onto a chair.

 

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