by Lauren Smith
He was going to have her. It was only a matter of time. He’d vowed the moment he set eyes on her that she was going to be his. He needed to tame her, to bring her into his world. It would take a long, slow seduction, but Callie would be his. She had to be. Her innocence mixed with her natural sensuality was about to kill him. If he could just get her to forget about Fenn and show her all the wicked pleasures life could bring, then he’d have her, body and soul.
As he stepped off the porch, dusting his hands over his jeans, he saw Callie leave the ranch house and walk toward the barn. Her steps were firm, her face held high, and she had a look of determination on her features. Whatever heartbreak she was suffering, she’d masked it and taken a firm hold of herself.
That’s my girl. The thought slipped out before he could take it back. She wasn’t his. But she would be. Soon. With a low chuckle, he continued to linger near the cabins and waved to some contractors who had just arrived, but he kept a watchful eye on the barn. They would talk, soon, and he’d set in motion his plans to have her.
* * *
Callie couldn’t help but watch Wes as he worked with the contractors. She fed the chickens in the coops, worked with a new foal that had been born a few weeks ago, and checked on the cattle feeding and water troughs over several hours and all of those tasks kept her in plain sight of Wes.
He wasn’t in that suit he usually wore, the one that made him look expensive and mysterious. No, he was in jeans, a t-shirt, and boots and…Her mouth ran dry as she realized that rather than make him look more normal, more approachable, the casual attire gave him a dangerous edge that seemed to say, I’m not afraid of getting down and dirty and taking you with me, sweetheart. The thought made her blush. That was ridiculous. He was just another handsome man in jeans, one she was currently avoiding. That was the whole point of swearing off men, which she definitely had. No sexy, rugged, dangerous men for her. She’d locked her heart in a steel box and sealed it shut forever. There wasn’t going to be any man getting through to it so he could smash it. Not ever again.
Despite her promise though, she couldn’t keep her eyes off Wes. It had to be harmless just to watch him, right? Lust and love were two totally different things after all…Weren’t they?
She watched him crouch by the porch of one of the cabins, a pair of contractors with him, gesturing at something. Even from where she stood, she could see the flex of the muscles on his forearm and the glint of his expensive watch on his wrist. She licked her dry lips and glanced away, only to find herself turning back his way. The light breeze carried just enough of their conversation that she realized they were discussing the wood trimming against the stone base of the cabins. Of course, Wes seemed to know all about the subject. Was there a subject Wes Thorne wasn’t an expert on? His seemingly limitless knowledge was wildly intimidating under the best circumstances, but after he’d seen her meltdown yesterday, well, Callie wasn’t challenging him to Trivial Pursuit anytime soon.
Callie hadn’t been able to afford college. And if she could have, there was no way she would have been able to leave her father, not when he was shorthanded and the ranch was in jeopardy. Now here she was at age twenty, stuck in the same town she’d lived her whole life.
Half of her loved ranch life, but the other half of her wanted to get out into the world, test her limits, and live her life.
Wes suddenly stood and shook hands with the two men he’d been speaking with and then walked away, out of her sight. It was just as well. She really needed to get back to work. With a little sigh, she turned around to go back into the barn and smacked right into a solid, warm male chest.
“Oomph!” She made an unlady-like sound as their bodies collided and she stumbled back.
Firm hands gripped her waist. “What were you doing? Hiding behind this truck?” His tone was full of dark amusement, as though he was fully aware she’d been spying on him.
She sniffed, raised her chin, and tried to dislodge his hands from her waist. He allowed it, and she was fully aware of that fact more than anything else.
“I was checking on the hay.” I was not watching you in those snug jeans.
“Mmm.” He made a little throaty noise as though he were agreeing with her, but she heard the disbelief in the sound.
“If you’ll excuse me, I still have chores to take care of in the barn.” She stalked around him and headed straight for the open doors of her sanctuary. He wouldn’t come after her. He had things to take care of, too. This would be over soon. She’d go back to being alone, left in peace and free of strangely intense men. Thank heavens for that, she thought.
Heading straight for Volt’s stall she decided to give him a quick brushing; that would make her look and feel busy. She slid the stall door open on its sliding rails and grabbed her brush bucket. Then she settled in for a good combing. Volt didn’t pay much attention to her as he buried his nose in his oat bucket, munching loudly.
The sound of footsteps behind her had her spinning. Wes stood in the open stall doorway, watching her.
“Are you all right?”
She barely contained a bitter laugh. “All right? Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
From the corner of her eye, she saw him drift a step closer, and she heard the soft shuffle of his boots on the hay-strewn floor. Wes was too intense for the quiet life on a ranch.
“Here, let me.” Suddenly he was right behind her, the heat of his body searing her skin through the thin layer of her jeans and shirt. His right hand settled over hers gently, grasping the brush and sliding it off her palm. Her hands settled on Volt’s coat as Wes kept her caged while he continued to brush the horse. She watched the way his hand moved the brush swiftly over the horse’s flanks. Did he know much about horses?
Funny, she hadn’t thought to ask. When she’d last been around him, he’d seemed more a dark shadow, a presence just out of sight while she’d been focused on Fenn and the threat on his life. Now, though, she had to admit she was curious, even if he scared her a little. He patted the horse’s back and then turned to her, handing her the brush.
“You seem to know what you’re doing,” she finally said, peering over her shoulder at his face.
Observing his profile, she noticed the twist of his sensual lips in a bare hint of a smile.
“I own six of them. I should hope I know what I’m doing.” His words lit a strange fire deep within her belly, and she knew she’d bump into him if she leaned back even an inch.
Callie took the brush from him and set it in the grooming kit outside Volt’s stall. She dusted her hands off on her jeans as she waited for Wes to leave the stall.
“You really have horses? Why didn’t you say anything before?” She could have made him muck out the stalls…the image of him, hay fork in his hands, shoveling manure made her bite back a little smile.
He actually laughed. The rich sound of it did funny things to her stomach. It quivered and a slow wave of heat moved across her face.
“You seem surprised,” he noted as he closed the stall door and then latched it.
Callie retreated a few steps, the barn suddenly feeling much warmer than it had a minute ago.
“Well, you never said anything before about horses. And you don’t look like you do a lot of riding.” She swept her gaze down his black t-shirt, which did nothing to disguise the lean cut muscles of the abs beneath it. You’re not checking him out, Callie. Stop it, she warned herself. She dragged her eyes upward and noticed his powerful forearms and she couldn’t forget that the feel of his hands on her skin always seemed to burn her in those brief times he’d touched her. Oh yes, Wes Thorne unsettled her, and she didn’t like it. If she kept getting swept away by how attractive his abs and arms were there was no way she was going to be able to keep her vow. She had to get out of there and fast. She grabbed the saddle and headed for the tack room, hoping he would take the hint and not follow her.
That silent prayer went unheard because he filled the space of the tack room doorway, as th
ough to stop her from escaping him again. She focused on putting her saddle away.
“You and I haven’t talked much, and certainly not about horses. I’d be happy to talk now…about horses. I play polo. A man has to be very good on a horse.” He paused and that caught her attention. When her eyes met his, he continued. “I enjoy riding, and not just the horses.”
For a second, she had no clue what he meant. Riding…Then it hit her and she flushed with mortification. He was implying that—oh!
“Well, sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Thorne, but I’m not up to being ridden today, or ever. I’m not interested, period.”
Rather than anger him enough to send him away, he sidled closer.
“No, you’re not up to it, not yet.”
Turning to face him, she shot him the fiercest look she could manage. “I don’t think you get it. I want to be left alone. No more men, no more romance, no more anything…” Suddenly her words came out a little choked, as though she couldn’t breathe. Here she was confessing her heartache to him, the last man on earth who’d understand what she was going through. His sister had told Callie all about Wes. The women he dated, how he never fell for anyone. He was nothing like Fenn. Wes wasn’t a man for loving, but for lusting, and she didn’t want to be around that either.
Wes tilted his left wrist to study the face of his expensive watch, checking the time.
“That sounds a bit like a challenge to me. Do you want to challenge me?” It wasn’t a threat, no, but something about the way he said the word “challenge” made her insides squirm.
“Challenge? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Wes’s lips twitched. “So you’ve decided you won’t fall in love? Is that it? No more men for you because one man broke your heart?”
Rather than answer him, she just swallowed hard and drew in a much needed breath.
“A friendly little wager wouldn’t put you at any risk then, would it? What if I said that in thirty days I could change your mind? Make you want a man again, not just any man, but me.”
Callie focused on the doorway, debating if she could escape him, but it didn’t seem likely. What if she just let him play his little game? It wouldn’t hurt her; he couldn’t get to her.
I’m safe. He won’t get to my heart. She was sure of that. Sure enough that she finally met his gaze and nodded.
“You think you can seduce me in thirty days? Fine. You’re on. Good luck with that, Mr. Thorne.”
“Thank you, but I’ve never needed luck.” When she started to dart around him, he stayed her with an outstretched arm. “Now, just a minute, we’ve terms to discuss. If I lose I’ll have one of my connections at art school on Long Island write you a recommendation for entry to their program.”
“Art school?” How could he offer that? She wouldn’t ever be able to afford that.
“Yes, they have a scholarship program you’d qualify for and my friend’s recommendation would seal your acceptance.”
Callie let all of that sink in. If she resisted the temptation to sleep with him, he’d help her get into art school? The one thing she wanted more than anything? There had to be a catch.
“And if you win?” She couldn’t quite say the words “if I lost.”
“If I win you’ll get passion beyond your wildest dreams. I know how to please a woman, Callie. Every trick, every toy, every little fantasy you’ve ever had, they can all be yours. I can promise that while we’re together your life will never be the same. Anything you want, I can give it to you. Anything.” He was so confident, so bold, she almost believed him.
But there was one thing he couldn’t give her and thankfully it was the one thing she never wanted to experience again. Love.
“That doesn’t sound like a hard bet to win,” she replied. Why she felt the need to taunt him, she wasn’t sure.
He chuckled, not at all upset. “If you think this will be so easy a challenge to win, you won’t refuse anything I suggest?”
Suggest? Just what did he think he could suggest? “What do you mean?”
“I’ve got to make a trip to Paris in the next week and I think it’s only fair to take you with me. I’ve seen your artwork. I know you’d enjoy taking in the museums and the sights. It’s the perfect place for an artist to visit.”
Paris…What he offered her, the world she’d always dreamed of, as though it were an easy thing to give her…it was impossible. She could never afford that trip.
A shameful heat filled her cheeks and she ducked her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t afford to—”
With a low growl he forced her chin up so she had to look him in the eyes again. “I may not be a man with honorable intentions toward you, but if nothing else, I’m still a gentleman. The trip and anything on it will be at my expense. All you need do is join me.”
“A free trip to Paris?” She couldn’t help but look this handsome gift horse in the mouth. He answered with a nod.
Paris. How could she refuse? He’d chosen the one place in the entire world she couldn’t say no to.
“All I have to do is go with you?” Her heart was beating so fast that she had to force herself to calm down.
“Yes, come with me. Give me my thirty days to court you as you deserve.” He sounded so solemn, so serious about a silly wager, but the heat simmering in his eyes was full of promise and it scared her a little.
He won’t get in, she promised. He won’t. I’m safe.
“Okay. I’ll go with you.” The words came out and she felt as though she were living in a strange sort of dream. She was going to Paris with Wes Thorne. Was this all really happening?
“Good. I can stay with you, help you with Volt if you like.” He didn’t move away from her when she tried to get past him again.
Callie needed to get away from him. Just because she’d agreed to go to Paris with him didn’t mean she wanted him to follow her around all day. She wanted to be left alone, left in peace. Not being intimidated by a man who was the personification of sin when she’d just sworn yesterday to avoid men like him. This bet was likely just a way for him to amuse himself. He had to be playing with her. Nothing more. There was no way a man like him would have any interest in her, and she didn’t want him to. Wes would want a tall, polished model, a thin society beauty, not a short, curvy girl in jeans with calloused hands. It just didn’t make any sense for him to be interested in her. He had to be really bored out here if he was paying attention to her. I must be the only female for miles if he’s paying attention to me. It was a depressing thought.
“I’m sorry. I’m not in the best mood. You should probably just go.” Please go away, she prayed. If she had to ask again, she feared her plan to avoid men like him wouldn’t last. She’d be a sucker all over again and throw her heart into something only to get hurt. No more Ms. Nice Guy. I have to protect myself, don’t I?
The intense wolfish gleam in his eyes softened and he inched toward her. Before she could move, he trapped her against one of the posts bearing an old saddle she’d been oiling earlier that day. The thick scent of the hay, the tang of the oil, and the exhale of Wes’s breath consumed her, shrinking her universe into this one infinite yet enclosed span of time. He rested one hand on the saddle by her waist, so close, but not quite touching her hip. His other hand curled under her chin and gently lifted it up so she had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. His gentle but firm touch made that newly built brick wall around her heart quake.
No, I can’t let him get inside my head. She had to control her emotions and her response to him.
“Shed your tears for him, Callie. You are allowed that much,” he whispered. His warm breath fanned across her lips as his face inched closer to hers.
“Allowed?” She bristled and flattened her hands on his chest, pushing hard. He didn’t budge.
“Yes.” He smiled, almost coldly. “You’re allowed to cry when your heart is broken, but just know that when you’re ready the entire world awaits you.”
We
s cupped her cheek, closed the distance between them, and pressed his lips to hers. It was no chaste kiss. His tongue slid inside, stroking hers, and she jolted against him. He assaulted her senses, his hands suddenly everywhere, sliding slowly over her back, tracing her hips, caressing the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck. Her blood thundered in her ears, like the resounding beats of a mustang’s hooves upon the fields on the other side of the mountains.
His teeth sank into her bottom lip, the little sting making her gasp in shock and a traitorous zing of awareness and pleasure rippled through her. He coaxed, teased, and played with her mouth and seemed to be memorizing her body with the way his palms shaped her curves and slopes. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. She had to stop this. She needed to…When she started to tremble he suddenly stepped back and rested his forehead against hers, their shared breaths an equal measure of soft pants.
“You aren’t ready. Not yet.” He brushed a lock of her hair back from her face and tucked it behind one of her ears. The gesture was intimate and tender. She trembled.
“Ready for what?” she demanded, but her tone was breathless.
“For me. But you will be. I have thirty days to prove it to you. Unfortunately I have to return to Weston for a few days but I’ll come back and pick you up.” He withdrew from her personal space, gazing for one minute longer at her before he strode out of the tack room and away from her.
Callie lifted her fingertips to her lips, her hand shaking. What had she done? Wes had kissed her. Kissed her. Her first kiss. It was not the way she had planned it, and it was not from the man she wanted, the man she loved. Her heart shuddered in her chest. It felt as if she had betrayed Fenn, but she hadn’t. A person couldn’t betray someone they had never been in a relationship with. That was the biting reality she had to accept. She may have loved Fenn, but he didn’t love her back, not romantically. She would only ever be a little sister to him. And that had shattered her heart into a thousand pieces. What would being around Wes do to her if she couldn’t stay cold and unmoved by his passion?