"Tell Jeff that," she said with a hint of bitterness.
Riley frowned. "What's that mean? Jeff knows. He loves you." That much at least Riley was certain of.
Tricia made a face. "Not the way you do."
Do. Not did. Riley shook his head. "Of course I love you," he said. He would always love her for the girl she had been, the couple they had once been. But—
"So love me now," she said, snuggling close again.
"Trish! No! You're married! You're just … goin' through some phase or somethin'. This isn't real. You know it isn't!" He peeled her hands away and held her out at arm's length, looking down into her eyes. "Go on home, Tricia. Now. You're out of your head!" Then he let her go and prayed she'd turn and walk away.
Instead her hands dipped below the water's surface, seeking him, finding him.
"No!" Riley jerked back and shoved her away—hard—so hard that she sat right down in the water, while he turned and swam as fast as he could toward the far side of the pond.
Sputtering, Tricia got to her feet. She slapped her hands on her hips and glared at him. Jaw locked, Riley stared back.
Then she said, "Well, if that's the way you want it, Riley Stratton…"
And she turned and stomped back to shore.
Riley took a deep, shuddering breath and turned his back. He didn't watch her go. He was just damned glad she had.
He kept his back turned as he listened to the sounds of her dressing, then mounting the horse and heading out. Then the horse seemed to stop.
"You're a son of a bitch, you know that, Riley?" Tricia shouted back at him.
Yeah, he knew it.
He shut his eyes. His chest heaved. His body ached. His mind spun. Get a grip, he told himself. The worst is over. She'd come. She'd gone.
He'd survived.
There was nothing worse that could happen.
He waited until he was sure she was far away before he finally made his way out of the water.
That's when he discovered his horse—and his clothes—were gone, too.
* * *
Ten
« ^ »
All day long Dori jumped every time she heard a noise, hoping it was Riley returning home.
Of course, she told herself, it wasn't likely. He had made a point of saying that he had to go up to the BLM land. She knew when he went that way he rarely returned early. Still…
Still she hoped.
Jake would be at Tanner's all day and all night. Maybe Riley would come back early. She did the laundry, changed the sheets on everyone's bed, entertained herself with a fantasy of Riley sharing her bed—his bed—with her. It was a lovely fantasy, embroidered, as it was, with snatches of remembered glimpses of Riley with his shirt unbuttoned, Riley with his jeans barely zipped, Riley bare-chested, coming out of the bathroom toweling his hair dry. He hadn't seen her any of those times.
But she'd seen him.
Sometimes she wondered if she simply managed to be in the vicinity when he was coming out of the bathroom from taking a shower, or if her subconscious was making her go in that direction. Whichever … the glimpses were a treat.
They made her want more.
A lot more.
They made her want all of Riley. She had started again to dream.
But it was getting later and later. The nice dinner she'd put on was going to be dried out by the time he got home. So much for dreams.
She had stopped dreaming and was glancing outside for any sign of him when the phone rang.
It was Milly. Milly and Dori had had weekly conversations since Dori had left. Mostly they talked about Jake and the ranch. But somehow Riley's name came up. Milly always wanted to know about Riley.
"Is he like Chris?" she'd asked the first time they'd talked.
"Not … very," Dori had said.
"Better?" Milly had been hopeful.
"I'm not going to make comparisons," Dori had replied starchily.
"Yes," Milly had translated.
Since then she'd asked about him, but not too often. "I'm dying to know what's going on, but I don't want to jinx anything."
"There's nothing to jinx," Dori had protested at first. "Honestly, Milly." But now that she was dreaming, she wasn't protesting anymore.
"Are you happy?" Milly asked her now.
Still looking out the window, Dori replied. "Yes. I'm happy. Of course I am."
Something of the caution she felt must have been clear in her voice, for Milly didn't press further. She said, "Good. I knew you made the right move. And actually I think it's been good for Dad, too."
"How?" Dori was almost afraid to ask. She had had only the briefest of stilted conversations with her parents since she and Jake had left Livingston.
"He's … kind of quiet," Milly said. "Like he's thinking about things."
"I'm not sure that's good."
"You'd have to be here to understand," Milly told her. "I think you made him pause for thought."
"Swell."
"It might be." Milly was ever the optimist.
"So—" Dori changed the subject "—when are you and Cash getting married?"
"After shipping. Then you and Riley and Jake can come."
Not "you and Jake and Riley," Dori noticed. Somehow Riley had got in the middle—as if he were part of the family.
"Well, Jake and I—"
"All of you," Milly insisted. "I never even got to meet him. I want to."
"But—" But Dori didn't argue too hard. She hoped. And then she glanced out of the window again. By the corral she saw a movement. She pushed back the curtain and caught a glimpse of Riley's horse. Saddled.
But no Riley.
"What the—?"
"What's wrong?" Milly asked her.
"Nothing. I—" Dori craned her neck, trying to see where Riley was. "I don't know. I just saw Riley's horse and—"
"Where there's a horse, there's Riley. Well, I'll let you go, then. Have fun," Milly said with considerable cheer and just a hint of something naughty in her tone.
Dori hung up the phone and went to the door to look again.
There was no Riley.
The sun was getting low in the sky when Riley finally heard the sound of hooves. He'd been sitting there for, he reckoned, close to three hours, fuming and furious—as much at himself as at Tricia.
At least she'd come back. He'd begun to get worried. He'd been trying to imagine walking all the way back to the ranch in the dark clad in only his boots.
The trek, he figured, wouldn't be as difficult as explaining to Dori how he happened to get into the situation in the first place.
Thank God now he wouldn't have to! The sound of the hooves came closer. "Riley?"
"Over—!" he began and then realized the voice calling him wasn't Tricia's.
"Over where?" Dori called back.
Damn it! She'd heard him. He plunged back into the water, shivering as its icy cold bit into exposed body parts.
"Riley! Where are you? Are you hurt? Can you hear me?"
He saw her now through the trees. The horse was clopping through the creek, and coming out the other side, heading straight for him. Dori was looking all around, frantic.
Hell, she was frantic! What about him?
"Riley! Riley, where are you?"
He wanted to die. Maybe he could drown. Could you will yourself not to come to the surface and take a breath?
He didn't have time to find out. She spotted him.
"What the—!" She flung herself off her horse and took half a dozen steps toward where he stood, chest deep in the water and wishing he could drown. "What are you doing?"
He opened his mouth. No sound came out.
"Are you all right? Do you have a cramp? Your horse came back to the house. I've been looking everywhere. Yelling. I thought you'd been hurt." She was babbling. Nervous. Standing on the water's edge now, looking at him, confused, curious.
Riley shut his eyes, as if not seeing her would make her disappear. But when he opened t
hem again, she was still there. Still looking worried. Frantic.
And gorgeous. Wonderful. Ten times better than Tricia ever had.
If Dori had come into the water after him today, he wouldn't have pushed her away.
He wanted to walk straight out of the water now, lay her down and make love to her right there.
"Riley," she demanded, her tone urgent, "what's the matter with you?"
"C'mere." His voice was ragged, as urgent as hers, and he was as astonished by what he'd just said as she appeared to be.
She goggled at him. "What?"
He gave a quick desperate shake of his head. "Nothin'. I…I—" But there were no words. Nothing at all could express the tumult of feelings surging through him.
Oh, God.
"Are you stuck?" she demanded.
Well, that was one way of looking at it. He just looked at her mutely. There was no way out and he knew it. He sighed.
"Riley, what is the matter with you? What are you doing in there?"
He drew a breath and told himself to get it over with. "I was hot. The weather was hot," he corrected, remembering he'd used those words to Tricia. "So I decided to take a swim." He stopped, hoping she would just say, Oh, that's nice, and leave it there.
She didn't say anything. She just waited. "And," she prompted finally.
Hell. "So I did. I swam. And, uh, while I was swimming, I … um … lost my horse. And my clothes." This last was no more than a mutter.
She heard him anyway. Now her eyes really did get wide. She looked around quickly, as if ascertaining the truth of what he'd said. As if he'd lie about it, for God's sake! Then her gaze returned to him. She gaped. "You lost your clothes." It was a question, and it wasn't a question. There was a glimmer of something in her eyes that he didn't want to put a name to.
He grunted, eyeing her belligerently. She eyed him right back. He wasn't cold anymore. The heat of her gaze, combined with his own embarrassment, would turn the old swimming hole into a hot spring before too long!
"I didn't lose 'em intentionally," he said gruffly.
She cocked her head. "Oh." She seemed to be weighing that. Then she said, "How? How did you lose your clothes?"
"A rat ran off with them," he said through his teeth.
Dori's mouth twitched into a grin. "A rat?"
Riley scowled. "A rat." Only a rat would do this to him.
Dori looked around again. "The, um, rat … didn't take your boots."
"Prob'ly couldn't carry 'em."
"Or maybe it wanted you to be able to walk home."
Riley gritted his teeth. "Maybe."
"Not a very nice rat." She cocked her head. "Did you do something to the rat?"
He sucked in a breath. This was not something he wanted to talk about. But Dori clearly did. She was waiting for his answer, all ears.
Riley sighed. "Tricia came up when I was swimmin'. She … had this, um … idea…" He definitely did not want to talk about this!
But Dori was completely still, listening to every word he said. She didn't take her eyes off him, either.
"She thought she'd … go swimmin' with me." He didn't look at Dori.
"Swimming," she echoed. It wasn't quite a question, either, but there was a hell of a lot of skepticism in it.
"Swimming," he repeated. "And other things," he added in a mutter.
"Ah."
He could tell she knew what "other things" were. "I didn't do it," he said. "I would never do it. She's a married woman, for cryin' out loud! So I told her no."
"And she stole your clothes."
He colored fiercely. "She was mad," he explained, feeling like an idiot. "She sort of … came on to me and I sort of … pushed her."
Dori's eyes got saucerlike. "You pushed her?"
He shrugged. "She fell down in the water. She got wet. Not hurt. An' she got mad, I guess, too."
"I guess," Dori said dryly. Then she grinned. She laughed.
Riley glared at her. "It's not funny!"
Dori wiped her eyes. "Of course not," she said, but she couldn't quite wipe the grin off her face. She hiccupped she was trying so hard not to laugh anymore. Her breasts jiggled when she laughed. Wasn't she wearing a bra today, either?
Riley sucked air.
"So, now what?" Dori said when she could finally manage a sentence again.
"You're ridin' Jake's horse. There should be a towel in the saddlebag." Thank God Jake had taken to being fastidious enough to bring a towel along because, he said, his body felt "squirmy" if he had to get back into his clothes when he was wet.
At the time Riley had shaken his head in disbelief. Now he understood all about "squirmy." "Get me the towel," he said.
For a moment Dori didn't move. She was staring at him blankly. Her gaze seemed to have dropped to where the water lapped his midriff—and below. She couldn't see beneath the surface of the pond, could she? Riley dropped his hands.
"The towel?" he said impatiently.
"Huh? Oh—" she ran her tongue over her lips "—sure." She got the towel. It was a bath towel, but not a terribly big one. Still, Riley reckoned it would cover the essentials.
"Toss it to me."
Obediently Dori balled it up and threw it. The towel unfurled in flight—and landed in the water.
"Oh—" Dori pressed her fingers to her mouth "—dear!"
Riley added a few other four-letter words to that. He snatched the sopping towel up and dragged it around his waist. It billowed beneath the water, then settled against sensitive parts of his anatomy. It—he!—poked out like a damn tent pole! He stared down in dismay.
"Can I help?" Dori asked after a moment when he didn't move.
"No!"
"Sorry. I was just … wondering." She gave him a worried look. "What's wrong?"
"You know damn well what's wrong."
She hesitated, then a faint smile touched her mouth. "Oh," she said. "That." She looked away for a moment, then straight back at him.
"For … me?" she asked almost hesitantly.
He frowned, not sure what she meant.
So she spelled it out. "You. Um. Your … enthusiasm." Her gaze dropped to the part of him beneath the towel, below the water's surface, and her color deepened. "Is it for me … as opposed to … Tricia, I mean?" Her voice was tiny, almost distant. She didn't look him in the eye.
He almost smiled. "Yeah, it's for you," he admitted, his tone gruff.
Her gaze lifted, met his again. "Then I don't mind a bit." She held out a hand in his direction. Still Riley hesitated.
"Riley," she said softly, insistently, "Come on." Dori had ridden double before.
She'd ridden behind her brother, Deke, when, as a college student, he'd worked for Will Jones. She remembered putting her arms around his waist to hold on and keep her balance. More recently she'd ridden the same way with Jake. She'd sat with his small body pressed back against hers, holding him close.
It wouldn't be any different with Riley, she'd assured herself when he'd reached down and hauled her up behind him onto Jake's horse.
But there was something about riding double with a naked man…
Well, he wasn't entirely naked. He had on boots. And a towel.
But the towel didn't do much, except cover the essentials from worldly view. She hadn't been polite enough to look away when he'd swung into the saddle. After all those fantasies brought on by handling his briefs, she wasn't about to miss a glimpse of the real thing when she had the chance!
Riley Stratton was very … impressive. His prolonged contact with cold water had not dampened his enthusiasm a great deal. He seemed pretty uncomfortable right now, from the way he was shifting around in the saddle.
"You okay?" She adjusted her grip on his bare waist, trying not to bother him as he tried to get settled. The horse sidestepped, unused to the weight of two adults. "I can walk."
"No." His reply was a mutter. The horse sidestepped again.
Dori slipped. She grabbed for something to hold on to.
"Jeez!"
"Oops! Sorry! I didn't mean—" She let go of that as fast as she could. She locked her hands together around his middle. Doing so pressed her hard against his bare back, but it was better than … well, not better than … but safer … than what she had grabbed on to.
"Go," she said. "Let's go. We need to get home."
Riley touched his boots lightly to the horse's sides. The horse moved forward. Dori's breasts moved against Riley's back. Her hands pressed against his abdomen. Her thighs bounced against the backs of his bare legs.
"Yesssss," he said through his teeth. "We need to get home. Yesssss."
Riley had heard that foreplay was good. He'd read it in a magazine once. "Prolonged arousal heightens feelings, enhances awareness, makes for spectacular sex."
They never said anything about it damn near killing a man.
But then the experts probably didn't reckon that riding a horse naked with a woman's arms around you, rubbing you, touching you for the better part of five miles was foreplay.
They were wrong.
And it damn near killed him.
He'd wanted Dori Malone for weeks. He'd gone to bed aching with need every night just from looking at her, just from casually brushing past her in the alcove or from putting on a pair of Dori-folded undershorts. But it was nothing to how he felt now with her body pressed against his, mile after mile.
He could feel her cheek pressed against his back. Her breath teased his shoulder blade. And every once in a while, God help him, he thought he felt the touch of her tongue or her teeth there.
The first time he felt it, he almost jumped right out of the saddle. "What the—!" He jerked the reins so hard that Jake's horse shied and damned near bolted. He turned and glared at her.
Dori wetted her lips and looked back at him, all innocence. Except for that tiny flutter of a smile at the corner of her mouth.
"You askin' for trouble, Ms. Malone?"
She batted her lashes. "I don't know, Mr. Stratton. Am I?" Her raised chin grazed his back. Her hands smoothed the hard flesh of his belly, then slid fractionally lower. His towel twitched.
"You are playin' with fire," he warned her.
She dimpled. "Am I?" she asked again in a voice both innocent and sultry.
Riley sucked air. He shrugged bare loins against saddle leather trying to find ease. But there was no ease—only desire. A shudder ran through him. "Gotta get you home," he muttered.
THE STARDUST COWBOY Page 15