Trisha Jennings at the helm for a darn change.
“You sure there isn’t anything I could do for you?” He stepped closer, teasing gleam still lighting his eyes.
“Well, actually there is,” she replied, finding it hard to keep a straight face. “Take off your shirt.”
“What?”
“Did I stutter? Take off your shirt.” Trisha had all she could do not to laugh at the captain’s mixed expression. Shock rounded his eyes, which were turning a deep navy while his mouth gaped open.
Obviously, he wasn’t used to women giving him orders, and yet, he appeared to possibly like it. Why did that observation heat every single cell in her body, at once? Didn’t matter. She’d worry about it later. Not now. Not with the sexy man grinning a lop-sided grin as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She held out her hand. A few more emotions crossed his face before smoldering resignation settled in his eyes, and he stepped forward to deposit the shirt in her hands.
Oh, he was a wicked one. Heat from his bared, muscled torso seeped into her body, licking her arousal to life. Darn his potency. They weren’t even touching.
“Anything else?”
Lose the pants. The dangerous reply resounded in her head and made it as far as her tongue, but she managed to keep her jaw clamped and the words inside. Thank goodness. Because she knew without a doubt if she had voiced them, it wouldn’t be words tickling her tongue.
Turning her back on the sexy, half-naked man helped Trisha regain her equilibrium. “Nope. Thanks. That’s all,” she said, walking to her purse to fish out a travel sewing kit.
She settled onto a chair and proceeded to sew the button back on his shirt, all the while conscious of the captain still standing where she’d left him. He hadn’t moved an inch. She could feel his gaze boring into her flesh like a piece of hot shrapnel, but she refused to glance up.
And it was by the grace of God and sheer willpower that she managed to fix his shirt without pricking her finger. Especially, considering her hand shook like a leaf.
She tied the knot, cut the thread, set her kit aside, and stood. “Here you go. Good as new,” she said, holding his shirt out to him.
He cocked his head, ever so slightly, and held out his hand.
Darn.
His gaze was so compelling and so hungry, Trisha actually took a step forward. But she stopped and shook her head, laughter rumbling low in her throat.
“No way, cowboy. Nice try.” She draped his shirt over the chair, then stood behind it, in case her body decided to betray her mind. With a lift of her own chin, she held his gaze. “How about we set some boundaries and discuss exactly what you expect from me.”
Sexy bugger grinned wide and broad, showing dimples and divots while he crossed muscled arms over his broad chest. Dang. Even the bulldog tattoo on his right bicep was sexy.
Why didn’t he put a shirt on?
“Okay, we can do that,” he said. “I expect you to act like a fiancée when you see any of the guests getting too friendly.”
She nodded, doing her best to keep her gaze on his, and not the happy trail leading from his six pack abs to disappear behind the waistband of his pants.
Lose the pants.
Her mind was losing its battle with her body. Fast. She cleared her throat and nodded. “I can do that. But what about when there are no flirtatious guests, or observing staff members?”
“I want you to have fun. I want you to take advantage of everything Royal Pines has to offer.”
She blinked. Her mind had to be playing tricks. She could’ve sworn his tone dropped on the word everything. Which was ridiculous. Why would he do that?
“Okay. Is that it?”
“Actually, no,” he said, gaze suddenly serious, posture straight. “I could use your help with the daily activity, if you’re game.”
“Oh?” Surprise found her tongue. “How so, s…?” She swallowed the rest of the sir, thankful he let the slip-up drop.
“Our spring season was hampered by a lot of rain and a busted dam,” he replied, moving toward the bed to set his Stetson on a post. He held her gaze as he sat on the edge of the mattress to remove his boots.
Lose the pants.
Stupid inner voice. Was there an off switch? Or a mute button?
“Finn managed to get it all fixed up, but now our clientele from the spring has booked what was left open of our summer season. We’re going to need a few more guides.”
Thrilled by his confidence in her, Trisha smiled in earnest for the first time that day. “Then I’m your man. I wanted to do all those things anyway. So use me as you will.”
The captain’s gaze darkened and dropped to her lips, then her chest. She opened her mouth and tried to rephrase, but an invisible hand was squeezing her throat. His gaze lazily rose to meet hers, and she watched as he scratched his temple with his thumb, that darn, sexy, lop-sided grin softening his features to irresistible.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Trisha smiled a half-smile and shook her head. “You know what I meant.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he repeated, amusement and desire turning the blue of his eyes to a deep cobalt.
“Then I don’t need to rephrase?”
“No, ma’am. I’m quite happy with how you phrased it.”
She laughed. “I’m sure you are, but you and I both know that is never going to happen.”
Trisha walked away from him toward the kitchen half-expecting another yes, ma’am. When he remained silent, she had to fight to keep from turning around to read his expression.
No…I am in control here, she told herself and promptly opened the fridge for something to do.
His soft chuckle met her ears along with some rustling. Dear God, he just lost his pants. Her body gave an oorah shudder, while her mind did its best to keep her focused on the task of opening a water bottle.
Lordy, it was going to be a long night.
****
It had been another long night.
Brett stifled a yawn as he adjusted a strap on the saddle of his palomino the next morning. The corporal—Trisha—had occupied his thoughts and dreams most of the night. The memory of her kisses had fueled several fantasies, which turned into a hot dream once he’d fallen asleep…alone…on the couch.
His desire to not mess with her head or heart was the only thing that had kept him from initiating a kiss inside the cabin last night. Given the way the woman had responded in the dining hall, he knew she was just as lost, just as affected by the chemical thing going on between them.
She had tasted so good, and felt so damn incredible crushed up against him, he no longer cared that she was one of his own. The attraction was just too damn strong to combat that argument. It was shot. Gone. Out of the window. He could no longer use that as a deterrent to keep her at arm’s length.
But her mental well-being was a different story.
And the reason he’d retreated to the bathroom and stood under the cold spray of the shower for a good twenty minutes after she’d mended his shirt. He even remained behind the door until the cabin went dark. No way could he resist touching the woman if she even so much as glanced his way. Retreat had definitely been his best move last night.
But now, watching the beauty laughing and talking to the guests with an easy grace and friendly smile had his insides all twisted up. Especially when she transferred that smile to the male guests. The very single, very interested male guests.
Christ. They were lined up, waiting for her to help them saddle their horses in hopes that she’d ride…
Gritting his teeth, he stopped that train of thought and swallowed a few unreasonable curses. The guests were happy. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, just acting like the rest of his staff, offering friendly chit-chat and a few smiles.
So, why did that bother the hell out of him?
The fact he was questioning pissed him off, too. Damn it. What the hell was wrong with him?
Wit
hout even bothering to come up with an answer, or think twice about his actions, Brett strode straight to the redhead and her crowd of admirers.
Chapter Eight
Bending down to reach under the horse for the saddle strap, Trisha was demonstrating the proper way to saddle a horse, but most of the men were too busy gazing at the way her worn blue jeans intimately hugged her sweet ass.
Only half-hearing her explain about the need to press on the horse’s belly to cause the animal to expel a breath before tightening the strap, Brett pushed his way into the crowd and stopped at her side.
“Need any help?” he asked, placing a hand on her back.
She stiffened and slowly straightened, a flood of pink flushing her cheeks. God, she was pretty. Blue eyes all wide, and soft lips parted in a half-smile.
“Hi…No.” Her smile widened as she glanced at the guests. “We got it covered.”
“You sure?”
Not at all happy at the eager smiles spreading through the crowd, he stepped closer, and ignoring the strange glances from his nearby staff, he brushed a strand of hair off her temple that had escaped from her braid.
Yes, he was aware he was breaking one of his rules—displaying intimacy in front of the guests. But did he care? No.
The guys were looking at Trisha’s ass.
Trisha’s ass.
Damn it.
“Y-yes. We’re good.”
“Okay.” He nodded, then stared down her groupies as he continued. “Because I’m never far if you need me.” And just to make sure they received his “hands off” message loud and clear, he lifted her hand, gazed into her eyes and slowly kissed her ring and finger. “Don’t hesitate to holler.”
“Oh, you’ll hear me yell,” she replied, a spark of anger entering her heated gaze. “Trust me.”
Brett chuckled. Now she joined him in the turned on and pissed off boat. Good. Not much fun to journey alone. And because he was an all-in kind of guy, he bent down and kissed her square on the mouth, and didn’t let up until she melted against him.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she whispered when he finally drew back.
“Damned if I know.” He sighed, resisting the urge to claim her mouth again as she blinked her beautiful blue eyes. Sexy woman made him nuts. Releasing her, he stepped back and glanced around. “All right, let’s get the rest of you saddled up.”
****
Despite the captain’s strange and disquieting behavior in that first morning of work, Trisha enjoyed her inaugural week as a Royal Pines’ Guide. With the guests now gone, she sat with the rest of the crew in the dining hall Saturday morning, and as the captain—Brett—initiated their end of the tour wrap up, her mind wandered over the past few days.
She felt better.
With every rock, field, and creek they’d crossed throughout the week, she’d connected with her surroundings and slowly begun to relax. The soft wind whistling through the trees, smell of pine in the air, sound of birds chirping, and water trickling over rocks all combined to ease a stiffness from her body she hadn’t realized was there.
She was beginning to thaw, to feel more alive, and was under no illusion the progression was due solely to her surroundings. Trisha shifted her focus on the handsome cowboy talking at the front of the room.
Gaze direct, stance erect, gait slow and purposeful with his hands clasped behind his back, Brett walked back and forth in a relaxed, slow stride. The man commanded attention, drew you in without shouting orders. Straightforward. Fair.
Her pulse flickered. Yes, her fiancé also had a hand with helping her to feel again.
And not just desire. Watching him interact with his crew and the guests, young, old, male, female, she had a newfound admiration for his patience and compassion, and the way he made people feel at ease.
Including her.
Several times throughout the week, he’d asked her opinion and even had her help demonstrate proper techniques with the horses.
On that first day, she’d found herself surrounded by children, eagerness lighting their faces as they pleaded with her to show them how to mount.
Easy enough.
She’d been around horses her whole life. Mounting and dismounting was as natural an act as breathing. But there was nothing natural about the sudden tightness in her chest, squeezing and twisting the air from her lungs. Or how their happy, excited faces became distorted and dark as her surroundings blurred. And the smell.
God…the smell.
Sulfur and dirt and…blood.
Trisha’s whole body had tightened, like one huge cramp, and she’d been on the verge of losing her breakfast when a firm, warm hand squeezed her shoulder, forging a connection to the present. She’d turned her head, expecting to see the captain, and she had, only he wasn’t in fatigues. He was in cowboy gear, complete with Stetson and a ready, reassuring smile as he addressed her and the children.
At first, she had no idea what he’d said as she’d watched his lips move. His wonderful, deep voice had been calm and soothing and strengthened her grip on reality while warmth returned to her limbs, and the ranch came back into focus.
“I need Trisha to help out in the corral, but I’d be happy to show each of you how to mount,” he’d said, then fixed a shrewd gaze on her, full of knowing and honest concern.
He’d known. She hated being weak, but had allowed him to gently shove her toward the corral. The pressure on her chest had eased, and the act of breathing returned as the children’s laughter faded in the distance.
From out of nowhere, her C.O. had appeared and saved her, and Trisha realized she’d never thanked him.
Inhaling, she brought her attention back to the present, and a smile tugged her lips. His wonderful, deep tone washed over her like a warm, welcoming breeze.
“Great job, everyone,” he said. “You really stepped up to make the New Jersey guests happy and twisted their negative into a positive. It’s much appreciated. So, enjoy your time off, because next week, we’re going to have a full house again with some of our summer regulars.”
Regulars.
The captain’s gaze had slid to her on that word, and her mind instantly grasped his meaning. Monica. The woman who overstepped guest boundaries.
She dipped her head in a slight nod. Done. She would handle it. The captain had asked her for help with Monica, and she would deliver. Happily. And wasn’t that just the problem?
The touching and show of affection required was definitely going to be easy. Too easy. Her body already warmed at the prospect of getting physical.
“All right. I’ll see you bright and early Tuesday morning.” Her boss unclasped his hands and gave a curt nod of dismissal, then pivoted on his boots and strode straight in her direction.
Butterflies instantly swarmed her quivering belly. Idiot. The friendly smile and interest in his gorgeous blue eyes were just for show. Still, her body never seemed to get that memo.
She stood and braced for impact.
Stopping when they were toe-to-toe, he reached for her hands and squeezed. “So? Tell me, sweetheart, how was your first week?”
Her week was fine, great, fantastic even, but her tongue suddenly turned stupid. She opened her mouth and squeaked out a breathy, “Okay.”
“Good.”
He smiled down and freed a hand to brush a lock of hair from her face, turning her knees to mush.
“You have more color in your cheeks.”
That would be courtesy of her stupid blushing. Since her tongue was still out of order but her lips were working, she smiled her reply.
He stilled a second before he dipped down and slowly kissed her lips. With her pulse racing out of control and heat settling low in her belly, Trisha tried to make sense of her captain’s actions. Yes, there were people still lingering in the hall, so this was probably just for show. Except…his gaze had turned dazed on a sharp inhale just before they kissed. Those actions weren’t faked.
Or were they?
Cripes. She just didn
’t know or actually care as she leaned into his muscles and returned the embrace. He was hard and giving and kissed her just this side of sweet. Her whole body was trembling by the time he broke the connection and set her a few feet away.
“Go pack an overnight bag. We’re going camping.”
She blinked, resisting the urge to rub her tingling lips. “We are?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “I like what the mountain air has done for you.”
The fact he was ordering and not asking wasn’t lost on Trisha, but she happened to be in accordance with him. All week, she had longed to spend the night up in the mountains without guests to placate. Somehow, the man knew and was offering her the escape she’d yearned to take.
“All right,” she said, deciding not to look the gift horse in the mouth.
Spinning around, she headed for the door. A night in the gorgeous mountains with the peace and solitude of the woods, alone with nature and…the captain.
That gift horse was a twofer.
****
Offering to take Trisha camping in the woods…alone…for the night was either the single most stupid proposal Brett had ever made or the best damn idea to form in his muddled brain.
The jury was still out.
An hour into their trek, gear packed and on their backs, a pair of rifles slung over their shoulders to ward off territorial animals, he continued to lead the way through the lush foliage, feet automatically taking them toward his favorite spot. He never took anyone there. Ever. Except Finn once.
His steps faltered. So, why was he leading Trisha to his sanctuary?
Because the place healed, his mind supplied. He’d used it often enough. After every deployment.
“So,” Trisha said, halting at his side, the slight flush to her cheeks deepening the blue of her eyes.
His heart slammed into his ribs, hard. God, he could get lost in those eyes.
“I’m beginning to think there isn’t one inch of this place that isn’t breathtaking.”
A smile spread across her face, and the warmth in her expression did something he hadn’t expected.
Heated him from within.
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