“I-I’m n-not getting back on th-that h-horse,” Annie stuttered, her teeth chattering already.
Grinning, Mitch cupped her chin to still its trembling and wiped the moisture from her face. “You can ride with me.”
Seemingly relieved, Annie nodded jerkily. Her sodden curls drooped in heavy spirals, hanging about her face in a way that shouldn’t have been appealing, but was.
Mitch helped her into the saddle, then climbed in behind her. He secured an arm around her tiny waist and felt her sigh and settle trustingly against him.
Above the roar of the storm, his hammering heart—everything—Mitch felt another faint click. This time he didn’t question what that meant. Suddenly, he knew.
Feeling Mitch’s chest rise and fall at her back had the most disconcerting and arousing effect, Annie thought. Disconcerting because it felt so right, and arousing because…because all Mitch had to do was breathe and he turned her on. His powerful thigh hugged hers and made an intimate cradle in which she felt safe, cherished, and oddly whole. His hand, large and warm, held her waist possessively, sending a sensual heat swirling deep within. The swaying motion of the horse and his close embrace warmed Annie through and through, despite her cold and wet clothes.
The rain beat down harder and thunder boomed overhead. Occasionally the mare would whinny in protest, but Mitch’s horse seemed to realize that he was in charge and hadn’t attempted any of the circus tricks her unfortunate mount had tried. Annie longed to peek at him and decided the only drawback to his delightful position was not being able to gaze at his handsome face. She owed him a word of thanks. In truth, she owed him more than that.
“Mitch, thank you for letting me ride with you.”
“No thanks needed.”
Was it her imagination, or did his voice sound strained?
“No, really. I appreciate it. If I’d told Les the truth last night he might not have made us come out here. It’s all my fault.” She paused. “I’ve never ridden a horse,” she confessed.
Mitch chuckled near her ear, resulting in a wave of gooseflesh. “Trust me, Annie,” Mitch remarked confidently. “I’m sure he knew that.”
Annie started to argue with him, but didn’t. It was a moot point. Besides, she needed to tell him something else before she lost her courage. She’d never been good at tendering apologies, but she owed Mitch one for last night.
“There’s something else, Mitch. I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have attacked you like that.” She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what came over me.”
Mitch sigh rumbled through her. “No need to apologize, Annie. I think I understand. I didn’t at first, but I do now.”
“But you couldn’t,” Annie argued, touched that he’d try to make it easy on her when she was the one ultimately at fault. “That’s what made what I did so awful. I —”
“Annie,” Mitch interrupted, regret and something else she couldn’t readily identify sharing his deep baritone. His grip on her waist tightened imperceptibly, as though he were hugging her to him. “If I’d been raised as you were, I’d be a little territorial about my things as well.”
Surprised that he’d found out about her childhood—or had someone told him?-–Annie gasped and turned her head to face him. He was taking the worst of the storm, but he was gorgeous. His hair glistened like polished ebony. Rain slid in little rivulets down the smooth planes of his face, over his strong, lightly stubbled jaw, then disappeared into his collar.
But his eyes were what caught and held her attention.
A blue so clear, so cloudless, stared back at her with undisguised longing, understanding, and desire. A lump of emotion formed in her throat. What was happening to her?
“How did you know?” she asked finally, not because she had any desire to know, but rather because it seemed like a logical question. And, at the moment, Annie was feeling anything but logical. She turned around and resettled against him. Behind her, she felt Mitch let out a long breath.
“Les mentioned it yesterday,” Mitch told her. “Not that I asked. I hope you’re not angry.”
Yesterday she might have been mad, but for whatever reason, today she wasn’t. To her amazement, Annie felt a chuckle tickle her throat. “Actually, I would have liked to hear how Les explained my rather unsavory past in that good ol’ boy way of his.”
Mitch chuckled as well. “He does have a way of putting things, doesn’t he?”
Just then the cabin came into view. The small white framed house was a replica of the little cottages which lined the back of the Peter’s estate. Hardly what Annie would have thought a bunch of rough-and-tumble cowpokes would require. Still, knowing Les, she’d learned not to take anything at the Triple P for granted. Mitch urged the horse forward just as the heavens really opened up. The steady rain which had drenched them by now turned into a downpour which threatened to drown them before they could seek shelter.
“Hold on,” Mitch shouted into her ear.
Annie did. To him.
Minutes later, Mitch drew the horses to a stop in front of the cabin, slid down from the saddle, then helped Annie down. She wished she had more of an opportunity to appreciate how her body slid down his, because the brief contact she’d been treated to wasn’t enough. Regretfully, Annie rushed to the porch.
“Go on inside and get warmed up,” Mitch told her, looking all sexy and heroic. “I’m going to see to the horses.”
Annie was reluctant to leave him alone outside. Anything could happen. Despite the fact that he’d handled the horses with skill and grace she admired, Annie couldn’t rid herself of the notion that they were still dangerously unpredictable beasts. She’d just wait her for him, she decided. Seemingly sensing her thoughts, Mitch paused and looked at her. He grinned and her knees almost buckled. “Get inside, Annie. I’ll only be a minute.”
She returned his smile. “Good, then I won’t freeze to death while you’re gone. I’m not leaving you alone out here.”
Mitch groaned at her obstinate attitude, then took off. True to his word, he returned shortly having secured the horses in the lean-to which stood near the rear of the cabin.
Drenched to the skin and looking as though he were secretly enjoying his wet adventure, he leapt onto the porch and met her by the door. A dimple she’d never noticed winked in his cheek as his gaze met hers. “Anybody ever tell you that you were stubborn?”
A small smile came to her lips. “A few people.”
“And you’re the queen of understatement,” he added.
“Just open the door,” Annie chuckled. “We can discuss all my fine qualities when we get inside.”
“Or explore them,” Mitch rumbled under his breath.
Or explore yours, Annie didn’t say, although she wasn’t the least bit ashamed of the direction her thoughts had taken.
As they stepped through the door, Annie had to admit she was ready for some indoor adventure.
Chapter Eleven
Ushering Annie into the darkened cabin, Mitch controlled the urge to wheel her around and kiss her until their wet clothes steamed from the heat. Having her ride in front of him had been pure torture. Quite frankly, on that last stretch before they reached this blasted cabin, Mitch had feared he would burst. As far as he could recall, he’d never been that hard—especially fully clothed.
Annie groped for a light switch, then flooded the little room with soft illumination. Though not as lavishly decorated as Rose Cottage, this little home had all the necessary amenities.
Including a few that seemed odd for a supply cabin, Mitch thought. He had the sinking feeling Les had just maneuvered them again.
For instance, what would a fencing crew need with fresh flowers, fruit, and a bottle of champagne? Or all those scented pillar candles scattered about which had never seen a match? It hardly matched the rather manly décor. Various horse prints, dream catchers and Navajo weavings adorned the rough-hewn paneled walls.
The furniture matched the large braided rug on th
e floor, and had been carefully positioned around a large rock fireplace. Firewood was stacked conveniently on one side, along with kindling and old newspaper. The couch was a plaid behemoth that would undoubtedly fold out into a bed. A very comfortable bed. Mitch smothered a sigh.
It had been hard enough staying out of Annie’s inviting, ultra-feminine room back at Rose Cottage. But keeping his distance here, where he longed to roar, beat his chest, then drag her to the bed, was going to be a different matter altogether.
Les needed to get his affairs in order because as soon as they were back at the ranch, Mitch planned to kill him.
Looking bedraggled and tired, Annie glanced up and offered him a teeth-chattering smile. “I-it’s a little w-warmer in here.”
Mitch grabbed an afghan from one of the recliners and wrapped it around Annie’s shoulders. “Sit down while I start a fire.”
Annie shook her head. “I think I’m going to look around and see if I can find something dry for us to change into.” She headed for the back of the cabin, still shivering.
Mitch set about building a fire. Within minutes a healthy blaze had taken hold and warmed the little cabin. Nevertheless, Mitch’s mood didn’t improve. He was wet, horny, and angry—but not at Annie. He was angry at Les for being a manipulative little tyrant.
Then Mitch heard the sound of a shower running and his bad mood vanished.
Annie was naked.
Again.
Mitch groaned aloud and prayed for patience where his delectable adversary was concerned. And he hoped she didn’t suffer any sort of catastrophe which required his assistance. The next time he saw Annie Witherspoon sans clothes, he fully intended to make mad, passionate love to her.
Mitch pulled off his boots and socks, then shrugged out of his wet shirt and padded barefoot to the kitchen. A quick search through the cabinets and refrigerator only confirmed his suspicion that Les was up to something. The kitchen was fully stocked. He snagged a can of coffee from the cupboard and snorted at the label. Gourmet, no less.
As he scooped coffee out of the can, Mitch pondered his present circumstances. He supposed he should at least make a concerted effort not to seduce Annie, but at this point he would only be lying to himself. He wanted Annie more than he’d ever wanted a woman in his life. It was wholly unnatural for him to go against his nature, he reasoned.
Hell, who was he kidding? Mitch wondered, wringing the water out from his shirt at the sink. He’d been doomed from the beginning. From the first moment he’d rescued Annie, he’d been a goner. Just then, Annie walked in.
Dressed in a long white shirt that had to belong to one of the taller ranch hands, Annie looked utterly sexy and completely gorgeous. She’d pulled her hair over to the side and it tumbled down on shoulder across her left breast. She’d obviously not put her damp bra back on to Mitch’s delight. He could see the outline of one perfect nipple displayed through the shirt. Her face scrubbed free of makeup, Annie’s big brown eyes dominated her heart-shaped face. Lips the color of a ripened plum—which he knew from experience tasted every bit as sweet—smiled hesitantly at him.
At that moment, Mitch had never seen a more beautiful woman, and he knew that if he lived to be one hundred, he never would. He struggled to find his voice.
“Feeling better?” he asked hoarsely.
“Much. I didn’t stay in long, so there should be plenty of hot water. You should take a shower as well. I found a T-shirt and a pair of sweats in the bathroom.” She grinned. “Don’t worry, they don’t belong to Les. Not enough ornamentation.”
Mitch gestured to the counter. “I made coffee. Help yourself, then see if you can get warmed up over by the fire.”
Meanwhile he’d go see if he could cool himself off.
Annie breathed an audible sigh of relief when Mitch left the small room. She’d had the almost overwhelming urge to run her fingers over his impressive bare chest. He was a supreme example of the human species, Annie thought, willing her erratic pulse to slow, with well-developed muscles and skin that looked as smooth as silk.
Annie padded to the window and watched as the storm they’d so narrowly escaped wreaked havoc with the world outside. Rain streamed down the foggy panes and thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.
What on earth had possessed Les to insist they take this silly ride on today of all days? Annie wondered again. Honestly, she was almost inclined to believe that the little dictator had somehow orchestrated the whole thing. He had to have known that rain had been forecast when he sent them out.
And then that shirt.
It obviously belonged to a somewhat smaller man. One who didn’t have such wide shoulders or that broad chest. She stared transfixed at the awesome sight before her. Some exploration was definitely in order.
“Annie,” Mitch growled.
Her gaze snapped to his. “Yes?”
He grinned lazily. “It would probably be better if you didn’t look at me like that.”
Embarrassed at being caught openly ogling him, Annie felt an uncomfortable blush stain her cheeks. “How long do you think we’ll have to stay here?” she asked, ignoring his remark.
“My guess is that we’ll be here overnight. Even if it’s not necessary. Because that’s the way Les planned it.”
“Overnight?” Annie echoed. “But that’s ridiculous. It’s just past noon. There’s no reason why we shouldn’t be able to get back to our cottage this afternoon.”
Mitch smiled knowingly. “Wait and see,” he predicted.
Something he‘d said niggled at her. “What do you mean this is the way Les planned it? Surely you can’t be serious.”
Mitch crossed to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup of the hot brew. “Want some?” he asked.
“No,” Annie returned. “And quit avoiding my question. What makes you think Les is behind this?”
Mitch waved a hand around and lowered himself onto one end of the sofa. “Take a look, Annie. The flowers, the candles, the fruit. It’s all fresh and it’s not exactly what a fencing crew or ranch hands would require.” He took a sip of coffee. “He set us up. Again.”
Annie started at him, agog. “But that doesn’t make sense. What would he possibly hope to accomplish?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Mitch’s gazed locked with hers, making Annie’s pounding heart stop momentarily. “He’s matchmaking.”
Again, Annie felt her jaw go slack. “You’ve got to be kidding,” she breathed. “Whatever for?”
“Who knows?” Mitch told her. “You know him better than I do. But think about it, Annie. Ever since we got here, we’ve been thrust into situations like this. The one-bedroom cottage, for instance. And all those non-productive errands, just like the one we went on today. Not to mention the fact that he’s completely stonewalled every attempt either of us has made to discuss our campaigns.” He shrugged. “If you can come up with a better excuse for his behavior, then I’d love to hear it.”
Annie couldn’t believe it, but what Mitch said made complete sense. He was right. “What are we going to do?” she asked him, begrudgingly impressed with his insight.
He lifted an uninterested shoulder and gazed at the fire. “That’s the beauty of it for Les. There’s nothing that we can do. We’ll just have to pretend we’re not on to him and hope he doesn’t come up with any other hoops for us to jump through in the meantime. I expect that phone over there will be ringing shortly.” Mitch shot her a sexy sidelong glance and grinned at her. “He’ll probably tell us that this particular area floods or some other nonsense, and that we should stay put until morning. And that it’s too dangerous to try to make it back and too muddy to send anyone out to get us.”
Just then, the phone rang as if confirming Mitch’s prediction. He grinned at her. “Should I get it or do you want to?”
“I’ll get it, Nostradamus,” Annie said drolly. “I wanna see if you’re right.”
Annie answered the phone and her gaze shot to Mitch’s amused one. “Yes, Les. We made it here
fine. Uh-huh. Just as the rain really hit. Mitch handled the horses beautifully. Yes,” she said hesitantly. “I was a little frightened. Yes, sir, he’s a good man to have in a pinch.” Annie rolled her eyes. “What? It’s supposed to rain into the night?” Annie frowned. “This area floods? Okay. Can’t you send someone out to get us? Is that right? Mudslides and Jeeps don’t mix. All right, Les. Yes, I’m sure we’ll be fine. Uh-huh. See you in the morning. Okay. Bye.”
Dumbfounded, Annie looked at Mitch. Thoroughly pleased with himself, Mitch lolled his head back and hooted at the ceiling.
“I don’t know why you’re so happy,” Annie told him. “Personally, I’d be a little worried if I discovered I could think like Les Peters.”
That halted his little chuckle-fest and the most comical expression came over his face, throwing Annie into a round of hysterics herself. Finally, her laughter ended in a comfortable silence. Annie sighed contentedly and sipped her coffee. Mitch’s suddenly thoughtful expression softened his rugged features. Firelight danced across his face, making him look even handsomer and leaving an impression of incredible strength.
He turned to her then. His compelling gaze made her want to lean closer to him. “Annie, would you mind if I asked you a question?”
“That depends.”
Mitch hesitated. “All this time we’ve been at odds over Hightower. But we’ve never talked about why.”
Annie stiffened. Though she longed to understand Mitch’s motivation, she had no desire to discuss her own. Annie recognized the lie in that thought immediately. Truthfully, she had the most disconcerting urge to share her thoughts with him. That was odd in itself, considering she’d never even allowed herself to confide in a girlfriend. The only person Annie had ever had a close relationship with had been Will, and, she supposed, then only because he seemed to need her as much as she needed him. Which brought her back to why she was here. “I would think that would be obvious.”
“To a degree, yes.”
Annie sighed impatiently. “Mitch, given the circumstances, I don’t think this is a conversation we should be having.”
The Perfect Proposal Page 11