Secrets and Seduction (Dangerous Desires)

by Sahara Roberts

  Across the arena, Monica still sat with Simon. The black and gray backpack was placed strategically between her knees and his. Something about the sight brought a smile to his face. At least he wasn’t the only one she was dodging. “Dr. Vasquez had me sit this one out.”

  Paloma scowled. “You don’t have to listen to her.”

  “She’s a good doctor.” He recalled the feeling of her hands, soft and gentle, sliding over his skin as she’d examined him. Was it his imagination or had her touch lingered a bit longer than it needed to? He just might need a follow-up with her real soon.

  “Dr. Treviño is a good doctor. The best.” She nodded enthusiastically. “Daddy said so.”

  Could be. But her father held an exclusive option on the good doctor’s services, keeping him busy around the clock since he’d had some unknown episode a few months back. The rumors ran anywhere from him having heart problems to being a schizophrenic. Luckily Dr. Treviño had been present, but his fate had been sealed after treating Guerrero. “And he thought Dr. Vasquez was good enough to fill in for him.”

  Paloma leaned toward him, pressing her breast to his bicep. “You know, you’re real smart.”

  Yeah. A freaking Einstein. “Your nose is starting to turn pink. I’ll take you down to the guys so they can find you a better place to sit.” He stood and offered her his arm.

  She giggled, wrapping her fingers around his forearm as she stood. “You can take me anywhere you want.” Sidestepping to the aisle, she slipped an arm behind him, shoving her hand into his back pocket.

  His shoulders and neck stiffened. He should have taken his damn chances with a bull. Her fingers curled against his ass while he led her downstairs, supporting most of her weight.

  “Da-mi-an.” She reached out toward the guy at the foot of the steps, pulling at his shirt collar to reveal the edge of a tattoo. El Demonio, the Demon, stared at him with freakishly dark eyes. Light skin and a well-defined widow’s peak rounded out the perfectly earned nickname. From what he’d heard, Paloma put her keepers through a “rigorous testing process.” Only those she was satisfied with remained in her employment. And Damian had been with her longer than any of the others. “Did you know Andres rides bulls?”

  Andres acknowledged Damian with a nod as he firmly detached Paloma from his side. “She’s starting to get sunburned. I gotta go back to work before Alex comes looking for me.”

  Damian slid his arm around her waist as Andres stepped back. “I got her.” His brawny arms circled her hips as Paloma pressed against him. Sliding one arm over his shoulder and her other hand slowly up his chest, she tapped a finger on his chin, claiming his full attention.

  “And did you know” —she tilted her head just enough to stare at Andres, smirking— “his daddy used to own this ranch?”

  Andres’s blood ran cold under the blazing sun. Damn Paloma and her bullshit games. Her petty attempt to remind him of his place could get him killed. Andres cautiously met Damian’s gaze, wondering what would happen in the next few moments. If Damian couldn’t get her under control things could get ugly fast.

  For a few seconds the men simply stared at each other. Damian then rolled his eyes, assuming a long-suffering look. Giving Andres a small, quick head tilt, he reached up and grabbed Paloma’s fingers, dragging her attention back to him.

  “Chica, why you wanna play with the hired help when you got me right here, hmm? Let’s go find some shade so we can…talk about this.”

  As Paloma giggled, Andres slipped around the pair and escaped. He silently cursed himself for admitting to the bull riding. He should have refocused her on the action in the ring. As he turned and headed away from the crowds, he knew he’d have to be more careful around her.

  His life and the future of Rancho del Sol depended on it.

  Chapter Two

  Andres tried not to think of it as hiding out, even though he’d been messing around in the stable since leaving the stands. Rayo nickered in his stall, bobbing his head, urging Andres to come closer. “You spoiled nag.” Andres snatched a brush off a nearby shelf. “You think I’m only here for you?”

  When he’d first returned to Rancho del Sol, he’d gone straight to the stables, thanks to Dr. Treviño. Riding enthralled him like no drink, drug, or woman ever could. Bull riding, once his obsession, was more of a guilty pleasure now. He knew the danger with either horse or bull, but Calderon men trained animals. They learned to ride before they could walk—Grandpa made sure. His earliest memories were of him in the saddle, learning from his elders.

  Other memories crowded in, his mother teaching him to dance, his father’s stories about building a dream home to keep his beautiful bride by his side. They’d moved out shortly after he’d left with Susana, his father concerned about the increasing cartel presence in the area. Instead of running the ranch, Andres lived in a cabin, looking up at the house he’d been born and raised in, while his parents’ fears for the future played out in front of him.

  Now he spent his days caring for the horses, getting them ready for the rodeo, which is what he’d been doing when Monica showed up, looking all pretty in a flowery dress. He’d been warming up Mota, following every twist of his bucking body. One minute his gloved hand held leather, the next he was boots in the air then ass on the ground.

  He hadn’t been thrown in years. Why today? Why in front of her? The only thing hurt was his pride, because he knew exactly what was going to happen. Sure enough, she’d run out to check on him, arriving just as he was groaning at his humiliation. He’d opened his eyes to find Doc’s concerned face hovering over him—mistaking embarrassment for pain.

  She’d issued orders like a little drill sergeant, and nobody had thought to stop her. The ranch hands had hauled him up, laughing, then sent them off to the stable. He had to admit things improved once they were alone together, and she was trying to get him out of his clothes.

  The long-ago talk with Dr. Treviño had flown straight out of his head. But he remembered now. It included look after her, wonderful young lady, treat her with respect, and most importantly, if I had a daughter. Not that he’d ever be good enough. He winced, pulling his fingers against callused palms. But who could blame him? He’d been half naked, she’d been kneeling between his legs, her sunglasses tugging down the front of her dress…all his blood had rushed south, and he’d been struck stupid.

  Over the past few weeks, she’d thawed from a perfect ice princess to greeting him with a friendly smile. He looked forward to that smile and worked for it when he had to. Earlier, he’d seen another rare flash of interest. He’d pushed—harder than he should have. Maybe not the smartest move, but he’d had his bell rung.

  Then she had stomped off in those ridiculous shoes. Who wore high heels and a white dress to sit in dusty stands? But he sure enjoyed how the skirt moved with the swing of her hips.

  Rayo perked up, his ears twitching. Curious, Andres leaned out of the stall and stopped short. Monica was heading his way.

  She stopped a couple yards away, unusually quiet. “You didn’t ride today.”

  “Nah.” She couldn’t know. Dr. Treviño hadn’t let her attend the rodeo they’d had earlier in the season. He started brushing again, at Rayo’s insistence. “I don’t participate.”

  “But you’re doing okay? No b—”

  He snorted. “I’m fine, Doc. Go back to your date.” The words stuck in his throat like dusty tumbleweed.

  “He’s not my date.”

  Good. He grimaced, annoyed at the stab of satisfaction that rushed through him.

  Rayo mimicked his snort and stepped forward. Monica held her ground, and her skirt, but she did lean back a bit. The wind tossed her hair. “I…I hadn’t noticed how windy…” She inhaled. “Andres, I wanted to—”

  He didn’t want a damn apology. “Happens all the time. My family believed it’s the ghost of Uncle Rey, Grandpa’s brother, blowing through here.” His gaze went to the framed picture sitting under a weathered black ribbon. “He was older and
took a tumble, breaking his hip.”

  “Rodeo?”

  “Yup.” He nodded. “The doctor warned him to be careful. At his age he wouldn’t heal well after the abuse his body had taken. Didn’t keep him from visiting with the ladies at a cantina one town over. One night he had too much to drink, missed a step, and lost his grip on the banister.” Monica winced. “When he finally came to terms with the fact he’d never walk again, he took his life, right here by the entrance.”

  “Dios mio.” She made the sign of the cross.

  “Rey didn’t have a family of his own. Grandma said the only girl he ever loved left him when they were young and never looked back. Guess he figured he had nothing to live for if he couldn’t ride.”

  “You take after him?”

  He shrugged, not wanting to consider what he would do if he couldn’t ride anymore. “We’re two restless spirits roaming around the stables.”

  She leaned against the wooden doorframe, studying the stall. “I always thought a stable would smell like manure.”

  “Some do.” He shook his head. “Not mine.” He put in enough hours with the horses to make sure. No matter who owned the animals, their care and well-being was a matter of pride for Andres.

  Rayo pulled toward her again. “Will he bite?”

  “No. He’s an attention hog, though. Once he’s got your number, he won’t let up.”

  “Really…” Rayo stretched out his neck. “I wonder who you take after,” she murmured, running her fingers along his jaw. The frickin’ horse sighed.

  A second later her words sunk in. He swung around and found her lavishing attention on the horse. Damn if jealousy wasn’t taking a bite at his ass.

  Her gentle laughter stopped him from calling Rayo the string of names he was about to spew. Admiration filled him as he watched her move with such confidence. Not many women could handle themselves around a spirited thoroughbred. He reached over to the shelf and pulled down an airtight container. “Here.” He shook out some sugar cubes, placed them in her palm, enjoying the curiosity in her gaze. Rayo, glutton that he was, went straight for the treat. “Step forward.” He cupped her elbow, murmuring instructions by her ear. “Lead him back in.”

  “Is he always like this?” Her dark brows rose in amusement.

  “Nah. Guess he knows how to win over a pretty girl.”

  Her smile dimmed, then she curled perfect nails into her palm as she put some space between them. “I want to apologize—”

  “Don’t.” She tensed up enough that Rayo stopped chewing and set his ears back. Shit. Explaining the history between him and Alex would be like taking a kick to the jewels. “Alex probably didn’t realize what he said or how he said it.” He tapped the brush on his thigh. “Maybe he was getting one in, but this had nothing to do with you, Doc.” She cocked her head, waiting for an explanation but was too polite to ask. “We have a long history; maybe I’ll tell you about it over a cold beer some day.”

  “I don’t drink while I’m working.”

  He grinned at how she created the perfect out. As the town doctor, she was always on duty. “Then I guess you won’t be hearing the story.”

  She shook her head, a steely look in her hazel eyes. Damned if he didn’t like getting her riled. “Well that blows the ‘nice guy’ theory out of the water.” She snorted. “Not exactly a shock.”

  “Doc. I’m a lotta things.” He zeroed in on her mouth, advancing with careful steps until the subtle scent of flowers surrounded him. “Nice isn’t really one of them. In fact…” His voice lowered. “If you knew what I wanted to do to you, ‘nice guy’ would be the furthest thing from your mind.” He moved in closer, his breath fanning across her cheek. “I know it’s the furthest thing from mine.”

  Monica held her ground, revealing another side of her personality to him. She was damn stubborn when she wanted to be. For a mad second, he wanted to back her into the corner. Kiss her until she melted against him. Then he’d explore every curve, reach under her skirt and hear her beg him to take her against the rough boards. His cock swelled, and he swallowed hard as he fought the urge to grab her and do just that.

  She bit the corner of her lip, and he groaned. The brush hit the ground, and his hands went to her slim hips.

  “An—” The way her lips parted around his name made it perfect for stealing a kiss. He devoured the second syllable, licking the remnants off her bottom lip. He was still savoring the taste of her when her hands came up, pushing at his chest to create a gap between them. “I can’t do this,” she whispered against his lips. “I’m…”

  His shoulders tensed. What was she?

  “I’m your doctor. Th-this is unethical.”

  His breath rushed out. He grinned, happy to clear her conscience. “You’re a doctor, Monica Vasquez. But you don’t have to be my doctor.” She could be the uptight doctor with anyone else. But he wanted the woman whose lips parted for a heartbeat. Just long enough to let him taste the sweetness of her mouth.

  The pressure against his chest wavered, but she didn’t quite give in. His growing erection insisted the corner was still a possibility. Better yet, he could have her on that bench, sitting astride him while those fingers ran across his chest. He could swear her full lips pulled into a soft smile.

  “Hmm, forgot you prefer to self-diagnose.”

  Rayo sidestepped, and a faint conversation caught their attention. He set her back, scooped up the brush, placing it in her hand a few seconds before company arrived. Moving around the horse, he made a needed adjustment to his fly. Monica’s delicate hand moved over Rayo with sure strokes. “You’re a natural, Doc.” He couldn’t help but watch her. What would it be like to feel those graceful hands caressing his skin? Her slender fingers curling around his arms while she pressed herself against him? He cleared his throat, shifting his gaze to her face. “I won’t be responsible if this nag flips over like a lap hound wanting his belly rubbed.”

  “Doctora.” Lupe Escobedo’s short, pear-shaped frame stood at the stall door. “This”—Lupe shot him a hostile glare—“would get people talking in the most inappropriate manner.”

  David Barrios, police chief and a long-time friend, hid his smile beneath his full moustache as he stood next to Lupe.

  “Of course, Lupe. I was checking on Andres and got distracted by Rayo.” She returned the brush to Andres, her soft fingers barely touching his rough ones.

  Barrios stepped back from the doorway, tipping his hat. “Ma’am.”

  “Chief,” she acknowledged as she swept by them both.

  “We need to go.” Lupe clucked as she led Monica away. “Simon is waiting with your bag. I didn’t want him carrying such a heavy burden all over the ranch, trying to find you. Chief Barrios was nice enough to escort me.”

  “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting…” Monica apologized.

  As the two women walked away, Barrios lounged against the doorframe, taking in the scene. “You trying to score points with the doctor?”

  “Nah.” Andres ran his fingers across the blaze on Rayo’s nose, keeping his gaze averted from his friend.

  “Damn. You think I’m the one she’s looking back at?” The chief sucked in his gut, running his hands down the front of his dark uniform.

  Andres stepped back, looking out toward the empty doorway at the far end. His fists tightened with jealousy at the thought of some other man’s hands on Doc, friend or not. “That ain’t funny,” he growled.

  Barrios chuckled behind him, pushing the one button guaranteed to get a reaction. He tipped back his hat, putting his thumbs in his pockets. “Ain’t? They didn’t teach proper grammar at your fancy college?”

  He ignored the question, having taken too much ribbing from his brother’s friend over the years. “Don’t you have chieffing to do—somewhere else?”

  Barrios’s face lost all amusement. “I was sure something was going to go wrong today.”

  The hint of trouble in cartel territory superseded any hurt feelings. “Like wha
t?” His gut tightened. He’d started as one of the chief’s unwitting volunteers years ago, thanks to Rudy, his older brother. Andres had gotten his ass in the saddle to track down a lost kid. He knew the surrounding area better than anyone. Unfortunately, the cartel had forced the department to release the volunteers and hire another half dozen men.

  “I don’t know. Our residents keep us on our toes sometimes.”

  “Saw everyone was here in uniform.”

  “Better safe than sorry.” Shoulders slumped, he pushed himself off the doorframe. “I better get back to chieffing before the night catches up with me.” He held on to his hat as a powerful gust sent dust and hay down the stable ahead of him. “I have to follow up on a lead about Guerrero’s missing driver.”

  “You found him?”

  “No.” Trying to find a missing cartel member would be a waste of time. Nobody would talk to the law. They had enemies with rival cartels, and sometimes within their own ranks. “But the investigation turned up an unexpected connection.”

  “What?” Had he found someone working with Guerrero? Or against him?

  Barrios’s moustache quirked, then he pulled a poker face and set his hat. “You and I will definitely have to talk. But first, I need to get some answers.”

  “I don’t know if you understand how improper it is for you to be found alone with a man in the barn.”

  Moni followed Lupe out of the stable. Her nails bit into her palms as she swallowed the urge to point out in what century they were living.

  Growing up with a renowned doctor for a father and a socialite mother had perks. Soledad, her childhood nanny, had drilled propriety, religion, and social etiquette into her. She knew how to keep on schedule, the patron saint for every day of the year, and she could plan a charity event for hundreds. Most importantly, she’d learned to treat people with patience and respect.

  “Stable.”

  “What?” Lupe pursed her lips.

  “The horses are kept in the stable, not the barn. I’m a doctor first, Lupe. My main priority is my patient. Wherever he happens to be.” Maybe appealing to the woman’s ethical side would help drive home her point. “Nobody in town would raise an eyebrow if Dr. Treviño had been the one to do a follow-up.”