Loving That Cowboy

by Victoria Chatham

  Cameron heard the edge of panic in her voice. “Yep. Just at the main door. Do you want me to wait for you?”

  “Please.” She disconnected.

  Cameron slipped the phone back in his pocket. She’d obviously been on edge when they’d been talking with Donna and Greg. Then she’d left them to join the publishing rep. What could have changed in so short a time? He turned back from the entrance doors. Being tall had its advantages and he soon spotted her as she hurried out of the ballroom.

  She looked right and left, obviously looking for him. He moved towards her, shocked to see her tightly drawn expression. He stepped in front of her and caught her by the shoulders.

  “Hey, going my way?” he asked gently.

  “On this occasion, yes.” She dropped her forehead against his chest and briefly leaned into him. “Thank you for waiting for me. Could we get a drink?”

  “Sure.” Curious about what other occasion she referred to, right now Cameron only cared that she was with him. “Would you like to go to the lounge here or do you want to go somewhere else?”

  “Here will be fine.”

  Taking her elbow he steered her into the hotel’s elegant lounge bar. A couple left a corner table and he quickly snagged it. Trisha sank into the chair he held for her. He didn’t like the wan expression on her face but before he could ask her any questions the waitress arrived to take their order.

  “White wine, please.” Trisha crossed her arms across her chest.

  Cameron ordered a beer for himself and watched her as she fought to regain some composure. He sat back, not wanting to crowd her. She’d been fine this morning then seemed upset with him this evening and he still couldn’t figure out why.

  “Want to tell me what upset you?”

  She rested her elbow on the table, then placed her chin on her upturned hand and looked at him with troubled eyes. “I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” Cameron countered. He watched her close her eyes and slowly shake her head. She licked her lips and his heart almost went into overdrive as he remembered what that sexy little tongue could do.

  “If I tell you, I think you’ll just get mad,” she said.

  “Try me.”

  Trisha hesitated. She couldn’t deny that he made her blood sing and her pulse race, and that she somehow breathed more easily when in his company. But how could she make him understand something she didn’t fully understand herself? Liking him, lusting over him, wanting to be with him didn’t mean she could or should trust him. She’d trusted once before and still carried that hurt with her. Maybe Samantha had been right, there were just too many people in that crowd this morning for him to have seen her. But why didn’t he tell her before he left that he was riding in the parade? She pushed her thoughts aside, knowing that Cameron waited for her answer.

  “If you must know,” she said hesitantly, “I’m glad you were still here because I feel safe with you. That is so illogical because we’ve only just met, but it’s true.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment and thank you for it.” Cameron watched her play with the stem of her wine glass. “Why didn’t you feel safe?”

  Trisha lifted her eyes to his as if to gauge his reaction.

  “I let one of the contestants rattle me. It’s really nothing but I didn’t want to walk out of here on my own.”

  A slow burn of anger ignited in the pit of Cameron’s stomach and his hand tightened on the beer bottle he held. Jealousy had never been one of his issues, but now every time he thought of Trisha with someone else it made him grit his teeth. He simply did not understand how one night with her had so completely turned his world upside down.

  When he looked at her his brain became jumbled with a series of fanciful images. He saw her with him beside a cozy fire, working side by side getting a meal ready, laughing together in the barn. Hell, he saw himself married to her for goodness sake, an institution he’d never even considered when friends like Greg and Donna Tooley tied the knot. Marriage had been something that might happen one day when he had the security of a home and a business behind him. He carefully put his bottle down on the table.

  “Which one of them was it?”

  Trisha leaned in towards him. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid. Please.”

  Cameron gave her his assurance that he wouldn’t leap to his feet, charge out of the lounge and tear the man’s head from his shoulders.

  “The very first guy out of the box. Brent Heywood.” Trisha sipped her wine and licked her lips again.

  Cameron wished she would stop doing that. “What did he do?”

  “It wasn’t so much what he did as what he said.” She shrugged and rubbed a hand across her forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m really making a fuss about nothing. I must be tired.”

  Cameron took a pull on his beer, mulling over what she’d said. He knew she must have some baggage to act the way she sometimes did. Could Heywood possibly know something about her background and have challenged her with it? He had so many questions but now was not the time to ask them. She said she felt safe with him and that, for now, was enough. He let the beer trickle slowly down his throat while he reined in his thoughts.

  “You haven’t really had time to slow down, have you?” he asked casually.

  “Not much.” Trisha actually managed a regretful chuckle. “Would you please just take me home? I think Brent’s already left but I don’t want any trouble. Marguerite DeVries doesn’t deserve to have her hard work jeopardized by someone with an over inflated ego.”

  “You think I have an over inflated ego?” Cameron pretended to be wounded by her comment.

  “No, silly.” Trisha said with a chuckle at his teasing. “But Brent Heywood does. Yes, he’s good looking and very photogenic. Because of that he thinks he can charm me into bending the rules. I really didn’t like refusing your friend’s invitation to that barbeque but until I can talk to Samantha and Marguerite together, I’m not even entirely sure I know where I fit in to their scheme.”

  “I know Samantha’s your friend but she seems to be more than a little devious, and don’t worry about Donna. She’s cool.” Cameron made no comment of the fact that Trisha had totally ignored him during that little exchange and he still couldn’t figure out why. He picked up the filmy wrap she’d thrown over the arm of the chair and draped it around her shoulders.

  As they left the lounge he took her arm. If Brent Heywood lurked anywhere in the lobby he hoped it would give him fair warning that Trisha was not alone.

  Once they reached his truck, Cameron looked down at the short, tight skirt of her dress that skimmed her flat stomach and flowed over her hips as smoothly as liquor over ice.

  “I was going to say hop in,” he joked as he unlocked the truck, “but I guess I’d better lift you.”

  He felt her hesitation but then she wound her arms around his neck and relaxed into him as he picked her up. He cradled her for a moment, inhaling the alluring floral scent of her hair and skin.

  “Whose home do you want to go to?” he whispered against her temple.

  Trisha closed her eyes. Still disconcerted by Brent Heywood, still furious with Samantha for elbowing her into a role she did not want nor had agreed to, Cameron’s gentleness acted on her like balm. After the way she had almost snarled at him earlier she hadn’t expected him to be so kind. He had shown her by look and touch that he cared about her. That would be something to cherish. They only had a few more days together. Why not make perfect memories while she could? She simply could give him only one answer.

  “Yours, please.”

  He placed her onto the passenger seat and kissed her, letting his lips slide gently across hers then linger as he teased her mouth with the tip of his tongue. He sensed her smile, heard her satisfied intake of breath as she responded, then he pulled away and looked into her eyes.

  “You are quite the lady. You know that, right?” he said softly.

  “I’m glad you think so.” Her reply was just as soft.
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br />   He closed the door, and went around to the driver’s side, his heart hammering and his palms moist. In a slight daze, he realized that no woman had ever really mattered to him before he’d met Ms. Watts. Right now he was treading dangerous waters and completely out of his depth.

  “I have to be at the Stampede for about noon tomorrow,” he told her. “I’ll drop you back at the condo on my way so you can change. I can’t see you tramping around in those spikes.”

  Trisha laughed as she relaxed back in her seat. “They are actually more comfortable than they look. But you’re right, I will need to change into something more suitable for daytime wear.”

  They completed the drive in silence, which soon evaporated when they pulled up in front of the house and the dogs came tearing to greet them. When Cameron finished petting them, he opened the passenger door for her. Despite the doubts that still crept into her mind from time to time, she slipped happily into his arms. He held her close, nuzzling her shoulder before releasing her but she’d twined her arms around his neck and hung on as she slid slowly down his body, each undulation a sinewy reminder of what she was capable of doing to him. She laughed with delight at her effectiveness when he groaned out loud.

  “I was going to ask if you wanted a drink but now you don’t get a choice. I am taking you straight to bed.” His warm breath tickled her ear.

  She pulled off her shoes and swung them by the heels as she padded along the veranda beside him into his bedroom. He didn’t switch on any lights as he took her straight to his bed where he drew back the comforter. When he turned around she already had her back to him ready for him to unzip her dress.

  “It scares me that this feels so right,” she whispered more to herself than him as he kissed the back of her neck.

  He ran the zipper down and slipped the dress from her shoulders then helped her shrug the fabric away from her arms. Dropping a kiss on her shoulder, he closed his eyes as he ran his hands around her sides, skimming over her silky skin and up over her ribs until he cupped her bare breasts. She quivered at his touch and when his teeth gently grazed her neck, her soft moan became a cry of pleasure. Reluctant to release her, he used one hand to push the dress down over her hips. As the fabric crumpled in soft folds around her feet she stepped out of it and turned to him, nestling her head into his chest and holding him tight.

  “Get into bed,” he said in a voice thick with longing.

  She shimmied under the comforter. How many more nights might they have together like this? Trisha sighed. She would make their loving sweet and fun. Seconds later she threw her black lace thong at him.

  “Ms. Watts, you are one hell of a tease.” He chuckled and slipped into bed beside her.

  He drew her into his arms, felt the coolness of her body against the heat of his as she climbed on top of him. She traced his lips with her forefinger and he gently caught it between his teeth, then drew it into his mouth and sucked hard. He felt her sigh through the whole length of her body then she withdrew her finger and placed her mouth gently on his.

  What started as a tender kiss quickly escalated into the exquisite passion they shared the previous night. Hands held, explored, touched and teased. Mouths met and tongues tangled, bodies strained for the release that each could give the other. In the quiet aftermath, while their breath slowed and their pulses returned to normal, they simply held each other.

  Trisha didn’t want to talk. That she had given in so quickly to her heart and body’s demands unnerved her and she still had to come to terms with the emotions Cameron prompted in her. But not now, not right this minute. She gave a contented sigh and turned on her side.

  Cameron threw an arm over her and pulled her against his body, spooning her gently until they both slipped in to a deep sleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  The sky could not have been bluer or provided such a perfect backdrop for the magnificent country mansion in her peripheral vision. She refocused on the jump ahead of her, a log into a green lane, a post and rail fence out of it on the far side. Room for two strides between them but Delacourt stumbled before the log. She held him up, steadied him and he soared over the obstacle and then was falling ...

  “No, no. I was wrong. I’m sorry, so sorry.”

  Trisha’s head rolled against the pillow and the sob that caught in her throat woke Cameron. He bolted upright in bed, and turned on the night lamp. In the soft light that fell across her face he saw the sheen of perspiration on her forehead and her flushed face. He caught her arms but she twisted away from him.

  “Leave me alone. Get off me, get off me!” Her voice rose and Cameron caught her again, this time folding his arms around her and holding her tightly. She sobbed against his chest and he continued to hold her until the sobs subsided and she settled back into a semblance of sleep.

  Shaken by the extreme fear he sensed in her, he lay back against the pillows. He still held her close, listening to the mutterings under her breath, feeling the echoes of panic in the grip of her fingers and nervous shift of her legs.

  He glanced at the clock on the nightstand which showed five-thirty a.m. He had to take her back to the condo before going to the Stampede so saw no point in trying to go back to sleep now. He lay quietly, thinking back to the night she had slept alone in his bed.

  Her sleep had been disturbed that night. He remembered how her fingers twitched and her head had tossed restlessly on the pillow, the vague mutterings that he could make no sense of. Did it have anything to do with what she’d hinted at last night?

  He closed his eyes and listened to her breathing steady until it became deep and even. He felt her relax as he held her close. At least he could offer her that, because he would indeed do everything possible to keep her safe. That vulnerability he’d sensed in her when he’d first met her tugged at his heart. That she trusted him was a bonus.

  He looked at the clock again, decided he should get up and gently disentangled himself from Trisha’s warmth. Grabbing his jeans, he pulled them on as he went through to the kitchen where he quickly filled the coffee maker. He left it to brew and went outside to feed the dogs.

  There was logic in his normal daily routine that helped ground him, for he could make no sense at all of his whirling emotions about Trisha. He ran his hand through his hair until it stood up in short, messy spikes and huffed a breath of frustration between his lips. He hadn’t been so knocked sideways since Mackenzie upped and left him to deal with the mess caused by their parents’ death.

  “We don’t need any distractions, do we boys?” he murmured to the dogs as he petted them, all the while thinking of the distraction still in his bed.

  He straightened up as he heard the door open behind him. Trisha, wrapped in his black robe, stepped out hesitantly onto the veranda.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  That she had to ask made him think she’d overheard his comment to the dogs.

  “Take a seat and I’ll get the coffee. Cream, no sugar. Right?”

  Trisha nodded and he frowned when he saw the blue shadows under her eyes. When he came back from the kitchen she’d settled herself in a cedar Adirondack chair.

  “I hope I didn’t disturb you last night.” She took her coffee from him but avoided his eyes. “I don’t think I slept very well.”

  “You were a bit restless.” He smiled at her. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

  “But you need your sleep if you’re to compete efficiently. I shouldn’t have come out here last night.”

  He looked at her over the rim of his mug but she’d bowed her head and he could see nothing of her face, only the fall of her bangs across her forehead. “Are you saying that was a bad thing?”

  “No, not exactly.” Hesitation lingered in her voice as if she chose her words carefully. “But I haven’t taken one photograph or a written a word since I arrived. I got sidetracked with that event last night and should get back to the real reason I’m here and let you get on with your work.”

  “That sounds like a br
ush off to me.” He carefully placed his mug on the veranda rail although he could just as easily have thrown it against the wall in frustration.

  “Cameron,” Trisha didn’t look at him but watched her fingers as she ran them around the rim of her mug. “You make me feel things I shouldn’t feel, make me want things I can’t have. I will go back to London and continue with my life when Stampede is over and you have your horses and your ranch to take care of. I think we should just concentrate on what we have to do.”

  “So you don’t want to see me anymore.” He sagged back against a veranda post, not believing she could mean what he heard her say. Frustration segued into a cold anger, anger that she would so easily write off what they might have together.

  “I’m sorry if I mislead you.” Trisha bit her lip and added in what appeared as almost an afterthought, “I think I mislead myself.”

  Cameron looked at the coffee in his mug as if it had turned to sludge. Whatever thoughts he’d had, whatever hopes he may have harbored in the last few days, evaporated from his mind as quickly as dew on a summer morning. He looked at Trisha’s bent head, watched the way she played with her mug and knew with certainty she’d felt the same things he had. He pursed his lips as he looked at her. Hell, no way was he going to let her off lightly.

  “You’re scared,” he accused. She looked up at that. Damn, but her eyes should not be moss-bright in the morning sun, should not be looking at him like he was breakfast. “You’re saying one thing but I think you mean another. If you feel whatever we’ve got is moving too fast, I’d agree with you. We met five days ago and already I can’t imagine my life without you. How do you think that makes me feel?”

  Trisha shrugged. Cameron took her mug from her hand and set it on the arm of the chair then hauled her to her feet into a warm embrace. Her heart beat rapidly as her arms snaked around his waist and she rested her head on his shoulder.

  “Don’t pretend you couldn’t care less,” he growled softly. “For both our sakes be honest. If you really don’t want to see me again, then I suppose I’ll have to live with that. But if you feel anything close to what I do, then we’ll find a way to make it work.”