The Maverick Meets His Match

by Anne Carrole

  No, no, no. She whispered the word three times for emphasis. He wasn’t to be trusted—not with her company and certainly not with her heart. Why he so easily flipped her switch she couldn’t say, but it had been that way even ten years ago. Back then she’d been so sure he was the man her young heart desired. She’d told him the truth back then. She’d been a virgin and wanted him to be the first, thinking it would show him how much he meant to her.

  Instead, he’d walked away, leaving her naked and abandoned. And made sure he was never alone with her the remaining few days before he returned to school. She’d pined after him the whole rest of the year, like a puppy waiting for its master’s return. She’d sent him texts and e-mails, and got nothing in return. He hadn’t wanted her, she realized—he’d wanted her grandfather and had used her to get to closer to JM.

  His rejection had been cruel at a time when she had needed gentleness. And now, here she was, married to him. And still wanting him. Cool, objective, no-nonsense Ty Martin. And did she mention, sexy as hell? But if they ever made love, she knew she’d be setting herself up for a huge fall.

  One hundred seventy-nine days to go. She feared she’d never make it without losing her mind. And maybe her heart.

  Chapter 10

  Abilene hadn’t gone quite like Ty had expected on the personal front. Neither had Fort Worth, Houston, or Lubbock. He’d turned on the charm and let her know having sex with her was never far from his thoughts. And he’d come away empty.

  Ty glanced over at Mandy, her face pressed to the plane’s window as they headed back to Wyoming for a brief overnight to get a change of clothes and check on things at the office before traveling to the Washington rodeo. At least she wasn’t tense anymore about flying, after taking off and setting down a half-dozen times. Given what was up ahead, her newfound ease would be tested.

  Gratefully, business matters had fared better. The rodeos in Fort Worth and Houston had confirmed they’d keep their agreements with Prescott, and as two of the biggest rodeos around, that meant a lot going forward. Of course, since those rodeos used several stock contractors, given their size and length, they had less risk in doing so. Lubbock was the outlier. Stan Lassiter had convinced managers there to give him a chance this year. The committee’s letter asking to void their contract due to “changed circumstances” had been on its way to Prescott’s offices before Ty and Mandy had arrived in Lubbock. The committee had agreed, however, to give Prescott a shot at next year’s contract if the contract included the sweetener Ty had given Abilene and there were no complaints from other rodeos over Prescott’s performance this year. And this time, Mandy had offered the sweetener.

  Ty had admired how she had handled the negotiations, needing little assistance from him. It was true Ty’s presence had helped ease some tension from the traditionalists, but hardly reason enough for JM to turn so much control over to him. Made a guy wonder why JM had been so concerned about the business. Guess he was a man used to being in control and couldn’t imagine things going on without him. Ty could relate. That’s how he’d felt when he’d left the ranch. And when he’d left the land development company. Both seemed to be getting along okay without him, though the ranch was probably less successful. Still, it humbled a guy to think he wasn’t quite as crucial as he thought.

  As for Prescott, Ty had made one significant contribution on the trip. He’d been able to meet with the AFBR’s livestock director and secure a promise to visit the ranch and assess Prescott’s bulls for participation in an upcoming Touring Division Event. He’d decided to wait until he knew for certain Cody Lane would keep that promise before giving Mandy the good news.

  No, it was strictly on a personal level that this trip had been a failure, starting with Abilene.

  He’d come on too strong, pushed too fast, too hard. Mandy had made clear that it was separate beds and separate lives. But they were sharing a room, and he’d seen her checking him out. Fight it all she could, reality was they were going to end up in bed together.

  His ears popped, signaling a change in air pressure even before he saw the thick gray clouds swirling up ahead. This was going to be a rough ride. Weather report had not been good over the plains. Well, this wouldn’t be the first time—but it was probably the first time for Mandy.

  The plane rose and fell and rose again. Mandy clutched her seat as the battleship-gray clouds smothered the plane and rain pelted the windows like tiny bullets.

  “What is happening, Ty?” she yelled above the commotion. Fear squeezed her heart as she struggled against panic.

  “Weather. We’re heading through a storm.”

  “Wh…what kind of storm.” Please let it not be a tornado or something.

  “Old-fashioned gully washer. We’ll be fine, Mandy,”

  His large hand patted her thigh and quickly withdrew. Like heat lightning, a little shimmer of electricity shot through her. That was the first time he’d touched her since Abilene, gratefully. The thought of that first night in the hotel room still brought heat to her cheeks. Each night in every hotel room had been another test of willpower. So far, she’d passed the tests, but barely.

  Now here she was, smack-dab in turbulence that mirrored her emotions.

  “Can you guarantee that?”

  The radio crackled with a string of nonsense words.

  “Pretty much. I’ve clearance to increase altitude. We’ll try to ride over it.”

  “We’re going higher?” She felt as pukey as a green-gilled fish.

  “Best way to avoid the turbulence. That’s what the big jets do. We can’t climb as high, but we’ll do our best.”

  The plane shuddered as it bumped and dipped along. Ty had both hands on the steering column, his focus locked on the panel of instruments.

  Rain pummeled the glass. Wind thrashed the cabin.

  She bit her lip and tried to hold in the shrieks climbing up her throat.

  She yelped just as the plane bucked, and her stomach roiled.

  “I’m going to be sick,” she managed to gasp out.

  “Bag’s under the seat.”

  She fumbled, finding it and a square cushion, which she left on the floor.

  “You have a parachute with this?” She placed the opened bag under her chin.

  “That’s a floatation device. Besides, no way you’re shooting out of a plane at this altitude, honey. We’ll be fine. Trust me.”

  Trust might be easy to request—but hard to grant as they tossed about.

  The plane dipped, then rose again as the pelting rain sent rivulets of water down the glass windshield. No sense looking out the window. She couldn’t see anything but the eerie gray darkness of a huge abyss.

  “Just a few more miles of this. Hang in there,” Ty said.

  He was flipping this and that switch on the panel. Did he really know what he was doing? The plane shuddered, and the queasiness in Mandy’s stomach ended up in the bag.

  The rain ceased as abruptly as it had begun. The shuddering stopped, and with the tick of a clock, they were flying once again through settled clouds and aqua-blue skies.

  “You okay?” Ty said, a grin on his face as he peered at her bag.

  She crumpled the top closed, hoping it didn’t smell too bad. “I will be.” It was mortifying enough to have lost her lunch while Ty had remained the model of calmness. She’d never get used to flying in these little planes, she realized. Just like she’d never get used to being with Ty Martin. And yet here she was.

  “Good. We’re almost home.”

  Home? Where was that now? The ranch house she couldn’t face? Her mother’s house, where she no longer lived? Ty’s hotel suite, where she’d merely be a guest in a man’s room?

  Mandy headed for the airport’s lounge as soon as she disembarked the plane so she could fix her makeup, do a quick brush of her teeth, rinse her mouth, and try to calm the wings still flapping in her stomach. As she exited the bathroom, however, the queasiness she felt from the plane ride lurched into downright naus
ea as she watched a willowy blonde tap her high heels across the ragged linoleum floor and fling her arms around Ty’s neck as he stood talking to the man behind the counter. Mandy stopped in midstride when the blonde, who looked like the one in the picture on Ty’s phone, planted a long, full-mouth kiss on Ty’s lips.

  “Surprised?” The blonde giggled, her curvy body still wrapped around Ty’s. “When you said you were working on a special project and too busy to see me, I thought I’d come down here for the weekend and see if I couldn’t coax you into a little time off. But when you weren’t at your hotel room this morning, I figured the next best place to find you either coming or going was to check on your plane—and I was right!” She squealed the last words.

  Now that was a woman who obviously was used to getting what she wanted. And given the way she was put together, tall, thin, and with a bust measurement unnaturally out of proportion to her narrow hips, she probably wasn’t insecure enough to think a man might not be pleased to see her. Dressed in spiked white heels, tight white skinny jeans, and a sleeveless, strapless pink top, even Mandy had to admit she looked like a female version of a sugary confection.

  Irritation spiked in her. Not that Mandy was jealous. How could she be jealous when Ty meant nothing to her? But still, the woman had nerve. Legally, Ty was her husband, and they had both agreed to be faithful to their vows for the six months. Miss Sugar was not part of the deal.

  Finding her legs, Mandy strode forward. She knew the exact minute Ty spotted her, because his face colored crimson.

  “You going to introduce me, Ty?” Mandy said as she drew alongside the two. The man behind the counter had made himself scarce.

  Miss Sugar turned her blond head to look at Mandy. Big blue eyes stared at her from over a perfect little nose. A frown creased the woman’s once-smooth brow. The pointed chin rose. “Yes, Ty, introduce us,” she drawled. She didn’t move an inch from her spot melded to Ty’s side.

  With some awkwardness, Ty set Miss Sugar away from him. “Mandy, this is Kendall Parker. Kendall, this is Mandy…Martin. My wife.” He practically choked on the last words.

  She would have admitted those words sounded odd to her too, except she was too caught up in gauging Miss Parker’s reaction to the news.

  “Your wife?” Kendall said the words with obvious skepticism, as if someone were playing a bad joke. “Honey, you don’t believe in marriage.” She shifted her gaze to Ty.

  He held up his hands. “She’s my wife, Kendall. We were married a few days ago.”

  Kendall looked Mandy up and down, obviously trying to gauge what Mandy had that Kendall didn’t. The scowl on Kendall’s face said she hadn’t come up with anything.

  Annoyed, Mandy stepped to Ty and twined her arm in his, like the loving couple they weren’t.

  “I don’t understand,” Kendall said. “You said you were working on a project, not marrying some strange woman. Did you get drunk in Vegas or something?”

  “Mandy. Her name is Mandy. We’ve known each other for ten years.” The twitch in Ty’s jaw belied the steadiness in his voice. He rubbed a hand down his face.

  Kendall’s eyebrows arched. “Just when were you going to tell me?”

  “Yes, Ty, when were you going to tell her?”

  If eyes could spark fire, Ty’s would have burned a hole right through her. “Mandy, I’d like to have a few words with Kendall.”

  Mandy arched her brows but didn’t move. She’d no reason to make this easy for him.

  “Alone.”

  She forced a smile. “Fine. And when you’re done, you can have a few words with me. Alone.”

  Mandy stepped away, crossed her arms, and watched from a distance as her husband tried to explain things to a woman far more beautiful than she was.

  Ty could tell by the resolute way Mandy walked to the car that he was in for it.

  “So I’m a business project? I thought you were going to tell her we were married.”

  Ty searched his mind for an explanation she would buy. He came up empty.

  “What would I say? I’m married but not really married, so check back with me in six months?” Ty had also texted the same message to the other women in his life. As far as everyone knew, he was on a special project.

  “So you intend to go back with her when this is over?”

  He shrugged. “I left the door open. She’s nice enough.” Kendall didn’t ask much from a man other than good sex and a nice gift once in a while. Her preference was jewelry.

  Mandy’s mouth had flatlined. “And that’s all you require.”

  It had been. “I suppose.” Although being with Mandy, he’d come to enjoy matching wits with her—business-wise and otherwise. Too bad she was so much work. Kendall was no work at all.

  “And will she…be around after six months?”

  Kendall had not taken the news well. And he hadn’t offered any explanation for this change in his circumstances, because there was none he felt anyone would believe, not to mention it was complicated. “Doubtful.”

  “Well, I’m sorry. I guess.”

  “No need to be.” He’d never had a problem finding willing women.

  But was that all he required? Someone who didn’t demand anything from him? Who just wanted sex and a gift now and again?

  He glanced over at Mandy. She walked with her arms crossed and her body rigid. Could she be upset by Kendall? Could it matter to her? That was an intriguing thought.

  * * *

  “You’ve got to put some clothes on,” Mandy said as she turned toward the wall to avoid the sight of a naked Ty, towel drying his hair, fresh from the shower. The man apparently had no shame…and a very nice body.

  They were ensconced in his hotel suite, the room with just one California king bed. She’d been so distraught over the prospect of staying again in her grandfather’s house, she’d failed to ask if they’d have to share a bed if they stayed in his suite. This was the price she paid for that mistake.

  Of course, being a mere hotel room, there was no space for her collection of boots or most of her clothes. She’d have to keep her stuff at her mother’s and live out of a suitcase. Sounded as temporary as her marriage.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Then I can’t stay here. I can’t sleep in the same bed.”

  The wall was decorated with a curlicue patterned paper, and she began to trace the design in her mind to distract her from the hammering of her heart.

  “Your choice. But you void the terms of the will and then…well, what was the point of getting hitched?”

  She let out a deep breath. That was a question she’d asked herself every day since. “Wrap a towel around yourself then.”

  “No need. I’m all dried off. What’s the big deal? You’ve seen my junk before.” He had the nerve to chuckle.

  Yes, she’d seen it that night in Abilene and had tried ever since to avoid seeing it. Because he had nice junk. Very nice junk.

  “But I wasn’t sleeping next to it. In the same bed.” The wallpaper repeated the curlicue pattern every foot or so.

  “I’m under the covers. You can turn around.”

  She turned around and there he was, bare chested, a thin sheet barely covering the lower half of his body, with a wide, mischievous grin covering his face. Lordy. It was like finding a fantasy man in your bed—all muscle and sinew.

  “I’d be fine if you decided to go to bed nude.” His grin turned cocky.

  “Not happening.” Though she was wearing a baggy T-shirt, a memento from one of their rodeos, she still felt overexposed looking into those smoldering, coal-dark eyes of his.

  She lifted the covers, careful not to disturb the sheet covering his body, and slid into bed. Tucking the blankets around her, she hoped to create some barrier between them. Unfortunately, there was no barrier that could prevent the pheromones wrapping around her. Her heart was beating fast, and she felt warm, very warm. So warm she wanted to throw the covers right off her.

  This was such a bad id
ea. She couldn’t have chosen a better way to torture herself. She closed her eyes, felt a movement on the bed, and opened them only to stare right into his handsome face and those dark eyes. He’d rolled next to her, propping his head on his hand. Gratefully, the sheet still covered the essentials, but that left a lot of flesh and muscle still exposed. Rippling muscle. Tanned flesh. Heaven help her.

  “I don’t know what you’re afraid of, Mandy Martin, but you needn’t be. We have an end date, clear terms, and, evidently, your grandfather’s consent. I say let’s go for it.”

  That’s what scared her. This was merely a distraction for him. She wasn’t sure what it would be for her.

  “I’m not interested.” Her voice sounded thin, reedy, and unconvincing.

  He slid up, almost relieving the sheet of its duty. At the last minute he tugged it up, but not before she caught a glimpse.

  Every night of their trip, in the intimacy of their hotel room, he’d told her he wanted her. She’d had other men tell her they wanted to have sex with her. But they weren’t men she’d once fallen in love with. They weren’t men who were willing to steal her company. They weren’t men who might also steal her heart.

  He stroked his finger down her cheek, sending a little tremor through her. “I can get you interested.” His breath puffed against her cheek, and her belly tingled.

  She turned her face toward him, realizing too late the mistake she made as he gently cupped her chin. The kiss started sweet but quickly turned hot, very hot. His slick tongue stroked hers, cracking her pitiful attempt at resistance. She wanted him. And he knew it. His passion sent an earthquake-worthy tremor through her and she hung on. Sliding her hands up his neck, she burrowed her fingers in his hair and held him so she could feast on his mouth. He tasted good. He kissed even better.

  She felt his warm hand slip under the hem of her T-shirt and slide up her cool flesh to her breast while he pressed his tongue deeper into her mouth. A moan escaped from somewhere in her throat. Her nipples peaked, and her mind turned fuzzy. He kissed her like he was going to devour her, and she wanted to be devoured.