Taming Angelina: The Temptation Saga: Book Four

by Hardt, Helen;

  “Hi there,” Annie said in her spicy New Jersey accent. “How’re you doing, Rafe?”

  “Good. Tom texted me and said he forgot to leave you the rent check. I can write you one now if you want.”

  “No problem. Just have him leave it tomorrow.”

  “Okay, thanks. Chad needs some antibiotics for a couple of the steers. Said you’d know which ones.”

  “Yep, I’ve got them right here. They just came in an hour ago.” She pulled a package out from under her counter and wiped her brow. “Sheesh, it’s hot.”

  The late August day was balmy, but not overly so. “You feeling all right?”

  “Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just flashing a little just like the first time. I guess you haven’t heard the news. Dallas and I are expecting again.”

  “Really? Congratulations. Catie is expecting too.”

  “Yeah, that’s something else, isn’t it? These cousins’ll be almost exactly the same age.” She sat down in the waiting area. “I’ve got two more appointments today. I wish I could just go on home.”

  “Can I get you something? I can run over to Rena’s for an iced herbal tea.”

  “You’re a sweetheart, but no, I’m fine. I’m sure you have things to do.”

  “I’ve got a few more errands here in town, and then some projects back at the ranch I need to get moving on today. My time is limited now that I’m doing freelance work.”

  “Freelance work?”

  “I’m teaching Angelina Bay”—why did his groin pulse at the mention of her name?—“how to ride.”

  “Angie? No kidding?”

  Angie? Didn’t seem to suit her. She was an “Angelina” all the way. Condescending and a genuine pain in the ass.

  Angelina.

  Angelina naked. In the shower. Shiny rivers of water meandering over her curvy body.

  He shook his head slightly to clear the unwanted image. “Yeah. Can you believe I only just met her?”

  Annie chuckled. “Yeah, I can believe it. She’s not the type to mingle with the ranch hands.”

  “That’s the truth. What is with her, anyway?”

  “She’s all right, just spoiled as all get out. She used to be friends with Dallas’s bitch of an ex-wife, and a more spoiled brat doesn’t exist on this planet than Chelsea. Since Chelsea’s been gone, Angie’s been a little better. I get along with her fine, though I can tell my Jersey accent grates on her.” Annie smiled and lifted one black eyebrow. “So I make sure to really emphasize it when I’m around her.”

  Rafe laughed. “I found out today she’s a lot older than Catie. I wouldn’t have guessed.”

  “The years have definitely been kind to her. How are your lessons going?”

  “We’ve only had one so far. Okay, I guess.”

  “Well, don’t let her get to you. She’s a good person inside. Sometimes it’s just hard to see under all the fluff.”

  Underneath that fluff was one sexy woman.

  If only he could stop picturing her naked.

  Chapter Three

  “Daddy, all we did was groom the horse today. He didn’t teach me anything.”

  Wayne Bay sat behind the desk in his home office and regarded his daughter. She’d been his little princess for so long. Catie hadn’t come along until eleven years later, and she’d been more of a tomboy who preferred to hang out with the horses in the barn, so Angie had still been the jewel of his eye.

  He’d been scared to death when she was born a month early, but she’d come out over seven pounds and strong as an ox, screaming bloody murder. He promised her the world that day, and he’d done everything within his power to deliver. Every day she’d grown more beautiful, more intelligent, more strong-willed, and every day she wormed her way further into his heart. His little princess.

  Yes, he’d spoiled her. He’d enjoyed every minute of it. But he’d done her a disservice. Here she was, thirty-two years old, single, without any marketable skills, and about to inherit half a ranch.

  “Grooming is a must before riding, princess.”

  “But we didn’t ride at all!”

  “Grayhawk knows what he’s doing.”

  “I hope you’re right, Daddy. I hate getting up so early.”

  “Getting up early is part of running a ranch.”

  “Isn’t that what the hands are for? Honestly, what is the point of being the owner then? Why not just be a hand?”

  Wayne widened his eyes. Was this really how he’d raised his daughter? To be a snob? How had that happened? Catie and Harper, his son and Angelina’s brother, weren’t spoiled like this. He’d truly ruined his little girl.

  Well, no longer.

  “Princess, it’s high time you learned more than just riding. After your lesson tomorrow, you’re spending the day with me. You’ll shadow me, and I’ll show you exactly what’s involved in owning a beef ranch.”

  “Wayne.”

  He looked up to see his wife in the doorway. How long had she been there?

  “We have an appointment tomorrow, remember?”

  He sighed. “Right. Sorry, I forgot.” He turned back to Angie. “The next day then. Or better yet, you can follow Harper around tomorrow. He does the same stuff I do. He’ll teach you what running a ranch is all about.”

  “Daddy, come on. Isn’t getting up at the crack of dawn to groom a horse enough?”

  “Not even slightly,” Wayne said. “Now go on. I need to talk to your mother.”

  Angie left the room, pouting.

  “What are we going to do with her, Maria?” he asked his wife. “She’s acting like a three-year-old. How did we let this happen? Our other two children are hard workers and understand what goes into ranching.”

  “You spoiled her, Wayne,” Maria said, “and I went along with it. We’re both to blame.”

  Wayne slowly let out a breath. “I suppose so. The question is can we fix it?”

  Maria walked behind him and rubbed his shoulders. Even having the tension kneaded out of his sore muscles didn’t relax him.

  “We can fix it,” Maria said. “We don’t have a choice. But Wayne, we need to tell her.”

  Wayne shook his head. “No. Not yet. Not until it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “It’s necessary now.”

  Wayne pounded the desk with his fist. “No. This is my decision, not yours.”

  Maria said nothing and continued to massage his neck.

  Wayne closed his eyes. Decisions, decisions. Why so many decisions, when all he wanted to do was not think at all?

  * * *

  “Catie?” Angie entered her sister’s ranch house. “You home?”

  Chad and Catie’s black lab, Marnie, greeted her with wagging tail and tongue. Angie gave her a pet. “Hi there, girl. Where’s your mama?”

  A quick walk through the living area to the kitchen proved neither Chad nor Catie was home. Angie sauntered out back to the pool house and changed into her red bikini. She loved Chad and Catie’s pool. It was twice the size of the Bays’. A swim and some relaxing sun time would rev her up for the next day of rising at dawn, a riding lesson, and shadowing Harper all day.

  Usually a morning of shopping and pampering sufficed to rev her up. Strange that it didn’t do the trick today. She dismissed the nagging thought.

  Damn! She was thirty-two years old. She didn’t have to do what her daddy said. No way would she trail Harper around tomorrow. In fact, she might blow off her riding lesson, too.

  She pulled a chaise longue poolside, spread a beach towel on the chair, and lay down. Nothing like the Colorado rays.

  And nothing burned her fair skin like the Colorado rays. She went back to the pool house, grabbed some 30 SPF sunscreen, and sat back down in her chair. She loosened her straps and started smoothing the lotion over her shoulders.

  “Need some help?”

  She looked up into the black eyes of Rafe Grayhawk. What was a hand doing by Chad’s pool? And why did he look so lusciously yummy in those low-slung jeans and a black mus
cle shirt?

  “Thank you, but—” Dear God, he’s gorgeous.

  His long ebony hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and he’d tied a blue bandana around his head like a do-rag. She hadn’t seen his upper arms and shoulders before. They were sleek, bronze, and muscular, a perfect match to those exquisite forearms. And his hands… She’d seen them up close this morning. They were large, strong, capable hands. Hands that were no doubt equally at home handling a horse and pleasuring a woman—both with ease.

  The afternoon sun blazed over her skin even as tingles erupted beneath it. Hot and cold…delicious sensations.

  How would those hands feel rubbing sunscreen on her back?

  Only one way to find out. She cleared her throat. “On second thought, I could use some help after all. I always miss a spot on my back.”

  “I can’t. I’m on the clock. I just stopped by to leave some stuff for Chad.”

  “Then why did you offer?”

  His lips parted. Was he going to smile?

  Nope.

  “I offered because I figured there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell you’d ever take me up on it. After all, I’m nothing but a hand.”

  Her heart lurched. His deep voice resonated with disdain. Disdain for her. Had Amber been right? Was she nothing more than a spoiled brat who considered herself above everyone else? Then again, she was set to inherit half a ranch on the western slope. She’d been born into a well-respected family. Where did Rafe live? He didn’t live on the ranch in one of the houses hands sometimes rented. That much she knew.

  Heck, what did it matter? Right now, this moment, she wanted his hands on her. It had been such a long time since a man had touched her…so very long.

  “You made an offer, Mr. Grayhawk, whether you were serious or not. And I accepted.”

  “I withdrew the offer.”

  “I accepted before you withdrew. Now we have a contract.”

  He rubbed the side of his face. “A contract? For putting on suntan lotion? Are you kiddin’?”

  “Absolutely not. If you don’t perform, I can sue you for breach of contract.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know your brother’s a lawyer. Catie told me. And even a ‘hand’ like me knows oral contracts are binding. But, Angelina—”

  “Angie.”

  “Angie, then.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t sound right.”

  “It’s what everyone calls me.”

  “Fine. Angie. You and I both know this isn’t a good idea.” He smirked. “And it’d never hold up in court.”

  “Do you really want to take that chance?” Angie pasted her best seductive smile on her face.

  He smiled and a dimple appeared on his left cheek. The ice around her heart started to crack as he sauntered toward her, his hand out.

  On instinct, she reached out and touched her fingertips to his.

  “I was reaching for the sunscreen,” he said.

  “Oh.” More warmth flooded her already flaming cheeks. How needy was she? She placed the bottle of lotion in his brown hand. “My back, please.” She lay face down on her chaise.

  The chair dipped a bit when he sat on the edge. “I’ll need to move your straps if you want good coverage.”

  She shuddered when his fingers brushed her skin, and hoped he didn’t notice. “By all means.”

  Smooth hands, silky lotion, hot man. It had been so, so long. Her nipples hardened into nubs and threatened to poke through the chaise. His sensual strokes warmed her through and through. The tickle between her legs became more intense. From a back rub? That had never happened before.

  Course never before had she gotten a backrub from the amazing Rafe Grayhawk.

  Fierce need flooded her. She wanted him, desired him, might die if she didn’t get just a smidge of him. Before she had time to change her mind, she flipped over onto her back, her bare breasts exposed to his view.

  His eyebrows shot to his forehead. “Uh—”

  Without thinking, only feeling, she pulled him toward her until his lips crushed against hers.

  The kiss of a century…how wonderful, his soft sweet lips, so delectable against her own. Was it a hint of lime? Couldn’t be. Such a man as Rafe Grayhawk wouldn’t wear flavored lip balm. Millimeter by millimeter she feasted on those luscious lips, kissing first the top and then the bottom, running her tongue over their plumpness and plunging it inside to taste him. He kissed her back, swirling his tongue around hers in a playful manner that didn’t seem quite “him.” Yet it was. He nipped at her, tugged on her lower lip. Her sex pulsed between her legs. She was vaguely aware of her hips moving upward, down again, upward, downward. God, how she wanted him.

  Her nipples strained against…nothing. Nothing covered them. What had she been thinking? But oh, she couldn’t think. She could only feel. Feel his chest lowering onto hers, the brush of his cotton muscle shirt against her hard nubs. Surely he could feel them poking into his chest. If only he’d lose the shirt…

  He groaned into her mouth and moved his lips to her cheek, raining tiny kisses along the way.

  “You taste just like a tequila sunrise. Sweet and tangy.” He nibbled on her shoulder.

  Goose bumps erupted over her body. Her breasts ached. Her nipples tingled. “Oh my God,” Angie said, her voice a whisper. “My nipples. Please.”

  He trailed his lips over her chin, along the contours of her neck and shoulders, until they lightly brushed one nipple.

  She jolted. Tiny shivers skittered across her skin and landed between her legs.

  How long had it been? Years. Four? Five years? Back when she was engaged to Zach McCray.

  Her vibrator helped, but even Mr. Ace was no substitute for a living and breathing male.

  A beautiful Native American male, with skin the color of bronze and eyes dark as midnight. And full pink lips that nibbled on her nipple as though he were starving and it was a feast. How she wanted those lips kissing and sucking the most secret part of her.

  She spread her legs. Was that involuntary? No, because she knew she was doing it. And she knew why.

  “Touch me,” she whispered. “Please.”

  His lips still clamped on her nipple, he lightly brushed his fingertips over the indentation of her waist and over her hips. He nudged her bikini bottom aside. She twitched.

  God, yes. Please.

  One long finger breached her, and a heavy sigh escaped her throat. So good. So very, very good.

  He let her nipple tumble from his lips. “You’re so wet, baby. So fucking wet.”

  She raised her hips as he slowly slid his finger in and out of her heat. How had she gone so long without this? How?

  Right now, she’d willingly give anything, anything at all, to have his hardness embedded inside her. Would it be bronze and beautiful like the rest of him? Would he sink into her slowly or would he plunge in, desperate to be part of her?

  He kissed her nipple again, a tiny peck, looked up at her, and smiled, his pearly teeth a beautiful contrast against his dark skin. “I bet you’re sweet. Damn, I’d love to taste you.”

  Those lips between her legs? That tongue? She’d die an untimely death. Do I want his lips or his cock? She could no doubt have both, but which did she want first?

  She didn’t have to make that decision.

  In a flash, he withdrew his finger and abruptly stood.

  “God, Angelina, I’m so sorry.”

  Sorry? Was he kidding? “What for?”

  “This is your sister’s house. My boss’s house. And you’re a client of mine. What the hell am I doing?”

  Sweat beaded on his brow, and his arousal was apparent beneath his jeans. Again, she wondered what he looked like in all his glory. And how his glory would feel inside her wet heat that still throbbed.

  He grabbed the bandana off his head and wiped his forehead. He penetrated her with his gaze. “What was I thinking? I don’t even…”

  “Even what?” Angie asked.

  He shook his head. “Nothing. I got work to d
o.” He turned and walked around the side of the house, disappearing from her view.

  Angie sat, her breasts still bare, her sex still aching. She flung her bikini top onto the deck, stood, and walked to the side of the pool.

  She dived in.

  Nope, still didn’t cool her off.

  * * *

  “I need some sex.”

  Amber and Catie both shot liquid out of their mouths, Amber a pink cosmo and Catie a virgin pina colada. Happy hour at the Bullfrog on a Thursday night. Angie had dragged Catie out and they’d picked up Amber on the way. After fifteen minutes of small talk and one martini, Angie let loose with her bomb.

  “Don’t we all.” Amber turned to Catie. “Not all of us are lucky enough to have a McCray warming our bed at night.”

  “I could have had a McCray—” Nope, she couldn’t have. Zach McCray had never loved her. Their engagement had been finagled by their two mothers, best friends who wanted to see their ranches combined. Laurie McCray had passed on over a year ago. Angie’s mother still missed her.

  How had she gone this long without a relationship? Without male companionship? She’d dated, but none of them had lived up to her expectations. Always something from her list crept up.

  Ever since the Zach debacle, she’d wanted more—a real connection—so she’d made a list of characteristics for her ideal man. Catie made no secret of her feelings that her sister was being ridiculous, and gave her crap about “Angie’s list” on a regular basis.

  Angie had thought Zach possessed it all. Intelligence—he was a Harvard man. Movie star good looks—one brown eye and one blue eye might make a normal person look odd, but heterochromia worked on him. A boatload of money—the McCrays owned the biggest beef ranch in Colorado. What he hadn’t given her was love and devotion. Problem was, because of her list of standards, no one had lived up to Zach McCray since, so Angie never kept anyone around long enough to see if love was even possible.

  But what was wrong with having standards? She perused her list in her mind.

  1. Financially affluent

  2. Intelligent, with an IQ in the superior range at least, preferably genius range