Seduction of Saber (Saving the Sinners of Preacher's Bend #3)

by Jevenna Willow

  “Get a move on it?” he mimicked, watching her arrange the flowers into a glass vase and then set them out on the kitchen table. “Should I have said that to you?”

  She took another appreciative sniff. She loved the scent of roses. A few stems of freesia were mixed in the bouquet to give it more color. He’d spared no expense.

  “You know what I meant, Mr. Patterson.”

  He moved closer to her body, stalling the rest of her coming thoughts. “Do I?”

  “Yes,” she whispered toward his face.

  “Please stop calling me Mr. Patterson. It makes me feel old.”

  Julia took a deep breath, and regrettably had to admit to missing the smell of this man. Leather. Musk. Old cigar. The way his dimples came about? She missed that too.

  She’d missed a whole lot about the incredible Saber Patterson while he’d been helping set up the rodeo with the other men. And she certainly should not be missing anyone. Not at her age. Not when she’d already convinced her body she didn’t need a man in her life in order to make it happy.

  As his hands found their way to the side of her head, and he suddenly kissed her, savoring the taste of him inside her mouth, Julia groaned. She wasn’t happy without a man. How the hell did she think she’d believe this lie?

  “God, I missed that—and you—over these last few days,” he said, pulling away, almost as if he could read her mind.

  Julia licked her lips. She was much too afraid to speak, yet found voice to say, “How is that possible? You and I barely know each other. You can’t miss someone you barely know.”

  She was trying to make her point come across about this sad fact, but nothing seemed to work.

  “No? Then why is it I can’t think straight when not inside this boarding house with you? A man has to think straight to be able to ride bulls, Little Darlin’. You, my dear, are messing with success. Not a good thing.”

  In response, she carelessly shrugged her shoulders; though his hands were still at either side of her head and felt so great there.

  “Damned if I know why you can’t think straight, cowboy? I’ve certainly been able to do so.” She made a move to step away, out of his very dangerous reach, hoping to hide another whopper of a lie.

  He released her face, but his arm snaked out to grab her by the wrist. “Oh, you know, Little Darlin’,” he warned. “You know perfectly well what you’re doin’ to me. And why.”

  “Do I?” Her eyes widened, Julia yanking her arm to get her wrist out of his grasp; failing pathetically.

  “Yes. You do.” His promise more as a threat as he pulled her closer. “After the rodeo ends tonight, you will be makin’ up for it, in spades.”

  Julia balked. Says who? No one should be so freely allowed to tell her what she is expected to do.

  “Mr. Pa …um, Saber …what if I say no to this?” She raised a brow, baiting the man. “Then what?”

  He grinned dangerously, but dropped her arm. “You won’t say no.”

  “I won’t?” she questioned.

  “No. You won’t,” he repeated. “Get dressed, Ms. Hillard. I’m takin’ you out on the town tonight, first to one damn fine Rodeo, then to dinner. After that, we’ll just have to see what happens.”

  “You’re telling me what to do again, Mr. Patterson,” she warned. Her tone of voice not quite matched to the widening of her eyes or the heat inside her cheeks.

  “Then do it.” He turned her body and playfully slapped her on the behind. “I’ll sit right here and wait for you to get yourself gussied up for our date.” He took a seat at the head of her kitchen table.

  “Wouldn’t you be a bit more comfortable in the other room?”

  This raised the cowboy’s brow. “What other room?” he asked.

  “The living room, Mr. Patterson…you know, the room with sofas, and where most gentlemen usually wait for their guests to get themselves dressed for a night out on the town.”

  “Why, Ms. Hillard, for a moment I had thought you might want help in that getting dressed department—or undressed.” He hung the rest of this very suggestive words wide open as thick sexual tension filled the air.

  It took Julia less than two seconds to hightail it to her bedroom and get ready for her…well, non-date, so to speak, without any of Saber’s help. She ripped apart her closet trying to find that one perfect outfit, that one pair of perfectly matched panties and bra of black lace, that one perfectly sexy blouse with the gold buttons. It was almost as if she was dressing for sex.

  And that was what it would be. Saber all but insinuated the after part of their evening would be eventful. She wanted it. He wanted it. Moreover, neither could deny what was going to happen—eventually. Sex would be inevitable.

  Twenty minutes later, Saber whistled under his breath as she glided into the living room. She wore a newly purchased pair of blue jeans, her favorite purple and gold blouse, a pair of cowboy boots she rarely put on her feet, and a good covering of makeup. It wasn’t as if she did this every day, but it was like riding a bike. Once you’d done it, it all came back quickly.

  “Now you look like a girl who’s goin’ to a rodeo, Little Darlin’.” The man stood up swiftly, deep appreciation for what he saw mirrored in his silver-blue eyes. He handed her one of the roses pulled from the bouquet.

  She took a brief sniff and smiled. “Then it’s a good thing that it’s exactly where I am going, Mr. Patterson.”

  “Too bad we can’t just skip the bull riding part of our evening,” he grinned, his eyes swimming with promise, his tone equally so. “And just get to the good stuff.”

  “Would you even do such a thing?” she asked, holding her breath as he moved closer still. His hands were maneuvering her body to his warm chest, her fingers splayed against the heat of solid muscle.

  “No. Not this time, Little Darlin’. I am under binding contract. And the promoters want Eight Second Wonder to strut his stuff.” His voice had lowered to a heavy rasp. “They want a performance, Julia. And that is exactly what they will get. But once it is all over, my full and undivided attention will be on you and no one else. I promise.” He leaned down and kissed her, then drew back. “I have to please the masses. Not just please myself, I’m afraid.”

  Julia’s senses were reeling. She didn’t care if he pleased the masses. All she wanted was this man to please her. And he was. Tenfold. For an accomplished Bull Man, Saber Patterson had the softest lips of any man and she suddenly could not get enough of him, reaching for his face.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Seated in a private box that viewed the entire sand-filled arena, Julia accepted a glass of white wine with gratitude. A cute waiter in blue jeans and cowboy hat gave her a wink and sly grin to match. He was trying to hit on her, but she was making life difficult for the man. In fact, she completely ignored these normally conducive actions, keeping her eyes glued on the Bull Men who came out of the chute.

  One right after the other, each man was trying his best to outdo the other. Some made it by two seconds. Others achieved limited success in three. The longer they hung on, the farther up the standings than the previous rider they would place. To a certain degree, this was bettering their chances at being discovered, and perhaps moved to where the big money was—the professional bull riders.

  Her father had taken her to a professional bull ride a long time ago. She’d forgotten how exhilarating it could be to watch. Could, not was.

  One rider got as far as six seconds—more than impressive. He’d dusted off his britches and slapped his crushed hat to the side of his chaps with a lopsided grin on his face. This gained him a packed makeshift arena on its feet toward the grand achievement. Preacher’s Bend hadn’t been this entertained in a very long time.

  Another rider, in particular, did not get up as quickly when his bull threw him into the hard metal gates surrounding the spectators. Julia could’ve sworn she’d heard bone crack. He was removed from the floor on a stretcher by the help of the rodeo clowns.

  Later on,
two of those clowns kept the bull at a distance until another man could limp off with the aid of a third clown’s shoulder. The crowd cheered this rider on as he made his way out of the arena. One man’s pain was another mans’ entertainment, she supposed.

  She’d been holding her breath the moment he’d hit the dirt. There was no cheer coming out of her mouth. No siree! Her fingers white-knuckle gripped to the wine glass during the full six seconds ride. And damn! Six seconds had never felt so long before tonight. She couldn’t fathom how long eight would feel.

  A well-dressed woman—pink cowboy hat, tight fitting designer jeans, white cowboy boots and a barely concealing tank top—leaned over and whispered into her ear, “Isn’t that the sexiest thing you ever saw?”

  No. No, it isn’t. It is the most damned foolish, pigheaded, and idiotic…

  Her brain kept her mouth shut for a change. But, it added more to the cajoling thoughts, once the woman turned her head the other away.

  He could have been seriously injured…

  Or, worse.

  Doesn’t anyone care?

  Julia had no real desire to make any one of these ladies her enemy. By judging their significant other’s mental capacities, it would surely put a large target on her back. Riding bulls for a living was crazy. Saber Patterson was crazy. To be doing this? When he could be doing something else completely worthwhile with his life? Something far less dangerous. Accounting perhaps.

  Even Jake Giotti wouldn’t have dared try his hand at riding bulls for a living. Moreover, Jake was as wild and crazy as they came.

  Another of the women seated in the VIP box suddenly blurted out her surprise. “They’re keeping Patterson back!” This gained the attention of the remaining women as if a bomb exploded; all eyes darted his way. “Must mean he’s getting the nastiest bull alive. Damn. His should be a fun ride to watch.”

  She saluted Julia with her wineglass, hoping to share the secrets of the ‘wives’ club’. A fun ride to watch meant the man would come off that bull happy as a lark, and make his significant other happy, if still capable of making any woman happy.

  Julia felt her face lose its color, however. This was an elite group of women she was among. The wives club wasn’t the place to voice an opinion. Each woman seated in this private section, the significant other of the more entertaining riders on the circuit, was fed, wined, and gloried upon…until Julia’s head was spinning with such buzzing activity she didn’t know where to turn. Numerous cameras flashed in their faces. Autographs were asked for. She’d even been handed a phone number on the sly, the cowboy stating that if Patterson got his head kicked in, he would be more than happy to make up for Eight Second Wonder’s lack.

  Julia had a very hard time blending in. She’d never thought for a single second that being asked by Saber to come to the rodeo as his guest had meant this. It was all too much to take as an evening’s entertainment.

  As she turned her thoughts into the happenings of the chute, and tuned out the women’s chatter as best she could, her breath caught and held. She could just make out Saber’s jet black hat and red shirt through the men crowded around him. All in chaps and cowboy hats, those men knew how to handle the bulls, and handle them well. Not a single animal got out of hand.

  Her mouth started to water, her hands got all clammy, and she nearly dropped her wine glass to her feet as Saber climbed over the metal gate, settled his muscular thighs on the bull, and then grabbed the rope with his left hand. His right tried to tighten the rope over the leather glove, but his bull was making this difficult. The audacious creature slammed Saber and another man into the side of the chute, causing Julia to jump.

  They gave him a second to readjust. No one would open that chute door unless the rider and the bull were ready. No one wanted to scrape a man off the ground.

  Saber yanked on the hemp surrounding his palm. He then dared a quick look at her. His smile didn’t convince her he was at all sane.

  A nod of his head, he had the crowd to their feet and the cheering into an uproar. Another nod and the chute opened.

  The creature bucked, snorted, tossed its hind legs into the air, left the ground with all four hooves by a good three feet, and as the cheering became so loud to where Julia could barely hear her own thoughts, the bull then dropped its head to the ground. This caused Saber to lean too far forward and from that moment on all hell broke loose.

  One brief millisecond of life and the control of a two-ton beast became a tragic mistake made by the man.

  **

  Five hours later, Julia was in the waiting room of the nearest hospital down in Sparta. She was wringing her hands together, pacing the floor, and crying quite relentlessly, due to a man’s dire need for unnecessary danger.

  She’d used up all the tissues from the box, choosing instead to pace some more, cry even more, then start to hate every horse, bull, and living creature with four legs that she could possibly think of. If riding ostriches was a sport she would hate them too.

  The minute Liddy showed up at the hospital Julia had reduced herself to flipping through a stack of uninteresting magazines, biding her time. All they could do now was wait it out, but waiting sucked.

  Therefore, she started pacing again, started hating Saber Patterson with every fiber of her being. He could have gotten himself killed! She started hated men, in general, just to kill time.

  That white-hide monster could’ve sent him to his grave, but it hadn’t. However, the man was damn close to dead. He had a broken right arm, a badly damaged left leg, six cracked ribs on his right side—count them, Six! His head split wide open by a dinner-plate sized hoof. Not to mention numerous other ailments the doctors were still checking out through MRIs and the whatnot. And why, do you ask? Because the damn blond fool let a two thousand pound angry devil toss him to the ground, right over its head. Then, it started to smash Saber to pieces before any one of six rodeo clowns could pull the beast’s attention away and get Eight Second Wonder the medical attention he desperately needed.

  His ride had certainly gotten the crowd to its feet. But there hadn’t been any cheering, just enormous gasps and a lot of quick thinking amongst the sudden tears.

  She darted a glance to her arm. One of the wives had sunk her three inch nails in Julia’s arm.

  Julia had been on the edge of her seat all night long. She’d barely looked at any of the riders in particular; barely breathing. Unfortunately, she drank far too much wine to settle her nerves; so much so, that when they’d announced Saber in the chute, all she’d wanted to do was run the other way and hide.

  The other women said she ought to pay close attention or she would miss the show. Julia had wanted to close her eyes; not watch any of it. When she’d dared herself to keep a close watch on the entire spectacle, lest they saw her fears, was when Saber’s chosen bull tossed him ass over tea kettle, and when Julia started to hold her breath, for good.

  She was still holding her breath. Her very own life had flashed before her eyes within those few seconds. It wasn’t a pretty life. A young woman, a teacher, she was the spinster of Preacher’s Bend who now ran the boarding house.

  Boring. Boring. Boring.

  She’d seen what being one of those other women would become, what it would be like, and it wasn’t pretty. It was scary.

  He’d promised her he would not get hurt. He promised her, damnit. And she believed him?

  She’d never been so afraid for someone else’s welfare in all her years. That angry bull hadn’t desired to throw Saber onto that arena floor; it wanted to crush him into it. And it very nearly had.

  “You’re wearing a deep hole in their linoleum.” Liddy was looking up at her, yet Julia couldn’t stand still.

  “It’s a hospital. They can fix it,” she snapped childishly. She closed off her mind to the horror that replayed itself inside her head.

  “Sit down, Julia.” Liddy tossed yet another magazine onto the table. She leaned back in her chair, a heavy sigh let loose from her chest.

/>   Julia sat then stood. Then she started to pace all over again. “I can’t sit. These chairs are uncomfortable. God, I hate this place.”

  “He’ll be fine.”

  “You don’t know that,” she suddenly yelled. “What if he’s not?” She turned her face from her friend, wrapping her arms around her middle. “What if he’s really hurt this time?”

  When she looked at Liddy, her friend rolled her eyes, sighing. “You did not just say that, did you? Of course he’s really hurt, you idiot. He’s in the hospital, for Pete’s sake, with forty-six stitches keeping his head together. A ton of bandages wrapped around his busted up middle. Two plaster casts. And I’m sure there are IV’s filled with just about everything imaginable. . .”

  Julia glared at her friend’s face. “You’re not helping here, Liddy.”

  “He’ll be fine, Julia. The guy rides angry bulls every day of his life.”

  Liddy made a move toward yet another magazine. This time, outdoorsy, and one Julia had already skimmed through. “So what if one of them got the better of him? He’ll bounce right back… and start riding bulls all over again. Mark my words, men like Patterson take their licks, then get right back in the saddle and do it all over again—so to speak.”

  This seemed so callous coming out of Liddy’s mouth. Big help.

  Saber Patterson wasn’t fine. He’d gotten a damn good beating. Thank God, he’d not been gored by those four feet long horns.

  “Good God, Liddy, you sound like an advertisement for pathetic clichés.”

  “Maybe so. But I’m right. He’ll be fine.”

  Liddy’s cell phone rang out. She answered it quickly, held up one finger to hold off the rest of Julia’s thoughts, and said, “Giotti here.” Her eyes rose to Julia as she rushed out angrily, “No. No comment, Pal. Oh, yeah? Well, she’s not saying anything to the likes of you either, asshole.” She slammed her phone shut.

  “Who was that?”