by Kaliana Cole
“Good morning, Em. You’re looking as beautiful as ever this fine morning.” The sinfully resonant voice rolled through her womb. The tantalizing drawl crawled along her spine. The mocking undertone failed to dampen her body’s eager response.
Her mind, however, was having none of it.
“Save it, please, Ty. I can’t handle your shit today.”
“Damn. You said ‘please.’ You must be feeling under the weather this morning.”
He reached out and raised her glasses briefly before lowering them. “Them are some bloodshot eyes, kiddo. Did you tie one on last night?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“It always does. It’s the next morning that’s the problem.”
She clipped the pony up and led her to the hitching rail with a little more force than was necessary.
“Still having trouble with the next book, huh?”
While only Beth knew what name she published under, word had leaked out that she was a romance writer.
“Yeah, it just doesn’t want to happen yet.” She watched as Ty began unloading his equipment.
“So what’s the problem, the bodice won’t rip or the heroine won’t swoon?”
Emma rolled her eyes at his clichéd view of romance writing. “My girls don’t faint, and if there is any ripping to be done, they do it themselves.”
“Mmm. Sounds like my type of girl. Tell me who you write as and I’ll check them out.” The hopeful tone wasn’t slipping under her admittedly less-than-perfect guard this morning.
“Not in this lifetime, big guy.”
He gave her a wicked grin before turning to the task at hand. “What are we doing today?”
“New shoes for Fred and Barney. Merlin’s should be fine to go straight back on, and that bitch just needs a trim. I think she is getting close to foundering again.” It didn’t matter how much Em restricted the pony’s feed intake. She always got too fat in spring.
“Okay, I’ll do Tammy first. It will give my back a chance to warm up before I tackle the others.”
She watched his calm and assured manner with admiration as he handled the uncooperative little mare. Emma would have had her flat on her back with all four feet tied together the first time she kicked out, but Ty just calmly regathered the limb and continued with the job. There was a reason she did not trim this one herself.
Merlin took less than fifteen minutes to reshoe because his shoes were not worn enough to warrant changing. He only needed to be trimmed before they were put back on. Emma watched intently as he put new shoes on Fred but had to admit her eyes only left Ty’s lovely ass, covered by worn Wranglers and framed so nicely by his protective chaps, when they were forced to.
By the knowing little smile playing around Ty’s lips, he was well aware of her area of interest, despite the dark glasses. Emma would normally have been absolutely mortified to be caught admiring his attributes, but this morning she was feeling way too poorly to give a shit.
Emma loved when it was time for new shoes for Barney. The Clydesdale’s hooves were miles too big for mass-produced horseshoes, so Ty forged them himself.
Watching the big man wield a hammer in the molten glow of the forge was a heady sight, one any red-blooded woman would cream over. Her readers had been ecstatic over the scene that had crept into her last book. A scene where a blacksmith who looked suspiciously like the man firing up the gas before her had replaced a lost shoe on her heroine’s noble mount.
She had been inundated with requests to write the blacksmith’s story, but was wary of moving away from the upper-class scene. Readers wanted lords and ladies, not blacksmiths and milkmaids.
She was glad of the mirrored shades when Ty stripped off his shirt. Clad in the navy vest beneath, shoulders bulged, biceps flexed, and that magnificent chest danced in the light of the flames.
Emma watched, absolutely enthralled as Ty worked the steel. His strong hand wrapped the handles of the tongs easily, his thick wrist bound with corded strength. The other arm rippled with harnessed power as the hammer rose and fell rhythmically. Shaping the steel had forged his body into a vision of male perfection. Massive, strong, vital. A towering fortress of protection that a woman could get lost in.
It only seemed a heartbeat later that he patted Barney on the rump as he placed the last well-shod hoof on the ground. Emma shook herself free of the undeniably carnal spell she had fallen under.
Now it was time for the bargaining.
Ty donated his services to the centre even though Emma could well afford to pay him. It was a nonprofit organization. The amount she received for each hour of riding did not even go close to covering costs. Businesses in town took pride in sponsoring a horse at the RDC. It was kind of fitting that Tammy was sponsored by the Kinky Kat.
Emma always felt bad that Ty wouldn’t accept money. His work was backbreaking and potentially dangerous. So it had become a bit of a game to see what he would take as payment. She had been clear at the outset that things of an indecent nature were off the cards. It was usually a pony ride for a horse-mad kid that couldn’t afford a pony or looking after his oversized dog if he had to go away. But that was only after he had pushed the bounds of propriety as far as she would let him.
Ty packed his gear away and leant against the side of the black pickup, arms crossed as he watched her fidgeting unnecessarily with the animals standing quietly.
“You’re not going to talk me out of it this time, Em. I definitely will accept no less than a kiss.” Ty didn’t look like he was joking this time. Definite heat shone in his gray eyes, and the set of his wide jaw was downright mulish.
“I think I should have one every time I see you, Em. I’ll make it fair, every second time I’ll kiss you, but this first one? It’s your turn, and I want it now.” He spread his hands to the side, as if to say, “come and get it.”
Emma opened and closed her mouth, trying to find a retort, but nothing came out.
“That’s just about it, darlin, but it works better if those lovely lips of yours are touching mine.” His smile grew, the magnetism the Whelans had in spades coming to the fore. “Just one little kiss, Em. Surely you have the self-control for that.”
Emma dragged her feet as she approached him. She was lucky to see him twice a month. Surely she could handle that, but she could just imagine him staking his claim in the middle of the main street. “You promise you won’t embarrass me in town?”
“You have my word that I will not kiss you in town without your permission.” He just looked so damn happy with himself. “Come on, Em, just one little kiss, right here.” He laid one big finger on his slightly fuller bottom lip.
Emma suppressed a groan. The man was too damn irresistible for his own good. She stood between his dusty boots that were planted wide and raised her chin stubbornly. While he had his head tilted looking down at her, he was too tall to reach without putting her hands on him. Gray eyes sparkled with pure mischief.
“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?” Clearly glorying in her discomfort, his grin said that hope was laudable but futile.
“Hell no. I’ve waited too long and worked too hard to make it easy, darlin’.”
Emma laid one hand on the swell of his chest for balance and reached up, snaking her other hand to the back of his neck to tug him down. He was definitely not making this easy.
She had the intention of laying the merest peck on him and stepping back out of temptation’s way. Such good, innocent intentions. But the path to Lucifer’s pad is paved with those.
His masculine scent wrapped around her, the tang of fresh sweat and a musk that was untainted man. Primal, hot, and all male. The heat of his skin branded her, radiating through the cotton covering his chest. His silky hair tickled the back of her knuckles where they splayed on the thickness of his nape. Hot, corded muscle scorched her palm.
And his lips, oh God, his lips were like a brush of warm satin. She could taste the faint cinnamon from the gum he
chewed, intoxicating, addictive. Just so fucking right.
She kissed him once, lightly, but it wasn’t enough. She doubted she could ever get enough of this man.
She plucked at the lower fullness before turning her attention to the curve of his top lip. Unable to resist, she licked the bow.
Her body fell against his as he opened his mouth, admitting her seeking tongue. The cinnamon was stronger, but it did not override the taste that was purely Ty, decadent and thrilling.
Her tongue stroked against the rough velvet of his, inviting, enticing, but he remained passive. She nipped him. A stinging caress against the fullness of his lower lip that demanded a response. Still he did not participate.
She pulled away when she felt him smile triumphantly beneath her onslaught. “You bastard!”
He hadn’t even lifted his hands from where they rested against the vehicle.
“Lord, Em. That was some kiss. I ask for a peck and you all but crawl in my mouth.” He ran his tongue over those sinful lips. “I can’t wait for my turn.”
“It will be a month before I need you back here, so it’s gonna be a long wait, cowboy.” She assured him, chagrined over her lack of control.
“Zach didn’t tell you I was coming out to help with the hay this afternoon?”
The cocky tilt to his head said he knew damn well Zach hadn’t told her squat. If she could have found the strength, Em would have belted him one in the jaw. All that smug, alpha, conceited, Whelan confidence was coming through loud and clear in those sparkling gray eyes.
She thought about what he said. He had only promised not to embarrass her in town. He wouldn’t, would he? Not in front of those two miscreants.
“Yeah, I would.” He answered her unspoken question, a shit-eating grin splitting his gorgeous face. He ran his tongue over those lips again, as if gathering her taste. “You have given me a hard act to follow, but I should be able to come up with something to impress the boys.”
He gave her a wink before sliding behind the wheel. “See you later, darlin’.”
She hoped he could lip-read as she called him every name in the book, the Tourette’s banshee on the loose once more. He probably could if the laughing face she saw in the mirror was any indication.
Emma stomped her foot with enough temper to rival any self-respecting two-year-old. One thought was coming through loud and clear. All Whelans should be lined up and shot as a danger to the female population.
What had she gotten herself in for?
Emma groaned. What was she going to do?
Coffee, the answer was more coffee.
Chapter 2
Ty drove away with laughter bubbling through his soul. Emma Duncan was a balm to his heart and a menace to his self-control. Not to mention his sanity. He’d had more unrequited hard-ons in the past few years than he’d ever had as a teenager.
He had first met Em nearly three years ago when she had approached the progress association with her plan for a riding for the disabled centre. She had wanted to have a worthy use for the equestrian complex that was on the exclusive property she had just purchased. One pleasure horse that she used to go for a quick lope about on did not go far in filling up the twenty-horse stable or using the indoor and outdoor arenas the estate was equipped with.
He had been intrigued with the pale city girl who looked like she had never picked up anything heavier than her nail file. Such fine, delicate features and a curvy little body just made for sin. He smiled at how inaccurate his first impressions had been.
The next time he had seen her had been to go and shoe Barney for the first time. He had been shocked to find the three horses she had acquired neatly and competently trimmed, top-of-the-line shoeing gear nearby.
He had picked up her hands, looking at the elegantly manicured, but shortly trimmed nails in disbelief. Not a chip or callus had marred their smooth perfection. He recalled being confused about what to be more concerned about, the fact that the girl knew her way around a rasp, or that she could do a man’s work without bearing a mark from it.
When he had questioned her about it, he had gotten a taste of her sharp tongue and biting sarcasm. “I know you country folk are a little slow, cowboy, but those things there? Them’s called gloves.”
He had since found out that her father had been a business tycoon who had believed in knowing every facet of his business from the ground up. When his daughter had shown interest in horses, she had approached it with the same diligence. She had taken over management of his thoroughbred breeding enterprise at seventeen. Emma could do pretty much anything that might be required with a horse competently and efficiently.
Unless it involved Tammy.
That horse just set out to ruffle her feathers. And they ruffled so prettily too.
In the time he had known her he had became more and more intrigued. The one thing he really wanted to know was her pen name. To have a window to her fantasies, to glimpse her dreams and desires, would be priceless. But so far, both her and that old harridan Beth had remained steadfast.
The fact that Beth was his aunt gave him exclusive name-calling rights, god help any other man who thought to.
He had thumbed through more romance novels in the past two years than he believed existed. He had even enlisted the aid of Colby and Zach. With their help he had assembled a short list of possibilities. Authors without listed places of residence, in the right age group, with strong heroines. Heaven knew that if the three of them had put this much work into school, they would have been veterinarians and agronomists instead of farriers and feed merchants.
He couldn’t wait to tell his brothers that he had finally made some progress with Em. They had been nagging him since he had told them he had found the right woman six months ago. But Em was like a skittish filly, one you wanted to keep for the long haul, not just get a quick ride out of. You didn’t throw a rope on her and overwhelm her. You gave her time, waited for her to come to your hand, and today Emma had rewarded his patience. Granted, her hungover state may have weakened her resolve a little, but Ty was taking any victory he could get.
The sweet flavor of her lips overshadowed any reservations he had about taking advantage of her less-than-perfect health. She tasted better than any woman he had ever kissed. Perfect. As if her mouth had been made for him.
It had taken every scrap of his self-control not to return her caress, his burning desire curtailed as he strove not to frighten her off.
Just like that filly, he knew that if he had grabbed hold of her then, she would have spooked. But by allowing her touch without attempting to return it, he was inviting her back for more. He sensed Em was just as inquisitive as any filly ever born.
The woman was living like a nun. In the three years Em had lived in Liberty Springs she had never been associated with any scandal or linked to any man. Beth always fed him just enough information to keep him going. She wouldn’t break her client confidentiality rule, but she would give anything to see her nephews happy.
She had been more forthcoming with information after Emma had trusted him enough to give him the code to the imposing security gate. He no longer had to wait to be buzzed in, but could enter himself. Only Beth and her husbands, the vet, and more recently, his brothers, also had the code. All knew that to divulge it would be a breach of trust.
At first Ty had been cautious of his attraction to Emma. Sophisticated, rich city girls did not go for uneducated country bumpkins of modest means. But he had found her shy uneasiness a challenge. He had long been told he could have his pick of women, but that had lost its appeal some years ago. He had buried the charmer behind hard work and a brusque exterior, but Em had reawakened that part of him. He found himself responding to her easily, the charm and charisma he had once unleashed without compunction coming naturally once more. He loved putting a blush on her cheeks or bringing fire to her eyes.
And he knew she wanted him, too. She was usually a little more circumspect about it than she had been this morning, but that w
oman loved looking at him. He even braved sparks from the forge just to let her look her fill while he worked the steel. No one else had seen him at the forge in less than long sleeves, but for Em he would lose the shirt. He couldn’t quite bring himself to strip off his vest. He didn’t have a modest bone in his body, but sparks of molten steel striking his bare chest was not on his list of favorite sensations.
The stroke of Emma’s tongue against his had just topped that list, though. A grin curled his lips as he realized it was only a matter of hours until he would get to feel that again. Colb and Zach were going to be green with envy when he told them he had tasted her.
Or maybe he wouldn’t. It would serve the juvenile shits right if he just walked up and planted one on her right in front of them. Especially Colb, that man had been nursing a hard-on for Em ever since he laid eyes on her. It had near broken his heart when he found out she hadn’t come to the Springs to indulge in the lifestyles that abounded. Well, the organ that had suffered most was quite a bit lower than his heart.
And Zach had despaired of Ty ever finding the one who would be woman enough for the three of them. He heartily approved of his eldest brother’s interest in Emma but doubted she would agree.
He had told Ty that if all that romantic slosh he had been frantically reading for clues was any indication of what that woman wanted, he knew he and his brothers could not deliver. Oh, they had that dominant, alpha thing down pat, but the flowery words and honeyed caresses were a long way from the primal, earthy pleasures they would offer. As much as he wanted Emma to be the one for the Whelans to call theirs, Zach would not allow his hopes to build too far.
To tell, or not to tell. That was the question.
Ty pondered the dilemma with glee as he headed towards his next client, Emma’s tantalizing taste ghost-like against his palate.