“Juliet, my love, I want you. I want you sweating for me, needing me, gasping for me. I want to fuck you until you cry out with pleasure, like you did last night. I want to make you mine forever. Will you marry me?”
Ten
Juliet’s heart snagged for a second, then raced until blood echoed in her ears. She was not hallucinating. Her mind was not fogged out with hormones and passion. She had not dreamed his last four words. One look at his face, the heat and light in his eyes, the flush on his skin, and the bead of sweat over his upper lip, and she knew he was as aroused as she was. He’d spoken wildly, his brain scrambled by lust and hormones.
“Rod,” she was surprised how steady and clear the word came out, “a minute ago we were arguing about living together, now you ask me to marry you?”
“It would settle the matter, once and for all. You’d have no choice. You’d have to live with me.”
“Rod, I hardly know you.”
“I’d say we’ve known each other pretty thoroughly.” In the Biblical sense perhaps but…“I’m serious, love.” He pulled back a little but she was only too aware of the heat of his body. “I want you and I want you forever. I’m not having you running off to London. I’m keeping you here.”
“It’s too fast!”
He shook his head. “The morning I first saw you on the street, I thought you were the sexiest, most beautiful woman in the world. Okay, I admit, finding out who you were and why you are here threw me for a day or so, but damn it, Juliet ffrench, can you look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me?”
She actually opened her mouth but the words wouldn’t come out. They couldn’t. How could she look into the eyes of the man she loved and lie? Love? Her mouth went dry. It was too much too fast and…“How about we just live together for a while? Just to be sure.”
“Hell no! Why delay?” His hand stroked her breast as he kissed her gently. “Say yes and I’ll take you into my bedroom and make your wildest dreams come true.”
She tilted her head to one side. “I thought you did that last night!”
“Honey, I’ll do it every night for the rest of our lives.”
“What if I’m saying yes just for the sex?”
His fingers tightened over her left nipple. “Sounds like a darn good reason to me.”
It did to her too, right now. “But that’s not all there is to getting married.”
He let out a sharp tsk. Getting irritated, was he? Well…
“Look here, Juliet. I love you. You love me.” Presuming a bit but she wouldn’t argue with that statement. “We’re attracted to each other, we’re great together, and we have shared life and business goals. Seems we have all the bases covered. We could go to Reno for the weekend and make it official if you like.”
“Can’t. We’re going out to my grandfather’s ranch on Sunday and that, Rod, I really want to do.”
“Next weekend then?”
Persistent wasn’t the word but, oh, he was so wonderful. Was she a fool to hesitate? When in her life had she ever met a man like Rod? She knew darn well she’d never find another. This was far, far too fast but…“Not next weekend. I’d like to get the place habitable first.” There, she’d done it. Said yes. Sort of. It was insane. She was insane. Nuts! Bonkers!
His eyes lit with a fire of happiness. He grabbed her by the waist and swung her around, whooping with joy, before setting her on her feet and positively plastering his mouth on hers. She met him, open-mouthed, and kissed back as hard and as well as she knew how.
Between them they stirred enough heat to raise the temperature in the unheated room. Or maybe it was just the desire between them. He drew his mouth away, giving her a chance to catch her breath. “We won’t wait for the damn renovation. That could take months, years. How about Labor Day?”
He was talking about their wedding day. “When’s Labor Day?” Come to that, what was it?
“First weekend in September. That give you enough time?”
“Plenty! Five months to practice to have perfect sex on our wedding night.”
“If perfect sex is the only requirement, might as well go ahead this afternoon.”
“You did promise we’d do ‘it’ if I said yes.”
His lovely mouth widened to a spectacularly sexy smile. “I did, didn’t I? Better keep my promise.” He grabbed her hand and headed out the room and down the long corridor to the stairs.
“Hold on!” she said. “I think that door”—she pointed to one behind them—“is right over the one near the bathroom. If it is, it’s a shortcut. And here”—she dug into her jeans pocket and held up the bunch of keys—“let’s see if one of these works.”
Liking the idea, he snatched them out of her hand and tried several in quick succession. The third or fourth worked, and after a bit of a push, the door opened.
Onto a wide landing.
They both stood and looked around. Ten feet or so across the landing was a door, presumably the one they’d been aiming for. On the right was another doorway, this one blocked and papered over with faded, sludgy wallpaper.
To their left, a stairway led up to the attics and down to…“Damn,” Rod muttered, “that’s how sneaking Tom got in!”
Light came through a glass-paneled door at the foot of the stairs and a narrow chink all around it.
“They broke in.” Juliet was down two or three steps before Rod stopped her.
“Better go carefully.”
All right, the banister was wobbly and the stairs rickety and…“Think they are still there?”
“Doubt it. Too many people here, but just in case”—he stepped around her—“stay behind me.” He ignored her irritated sputter.
Since she had just accepted his offer of matrimony, this time she’d do as she was told. He’d better not expect it again anytime soon.
Pity she was so wound up at the discovery she failed to fully appreciate the view of his broad shoulders and nice firm arse.
At the bottom of the stairs, the decor was, if possible, even grungier than upstairs. Paper hung in tatters from the walls, the floor covering was threadbare and ragged, and there were several footprints in the dust on the floor. Footprints that led across the hallway to a door in the far right-hand corner.
“Does that lead into the Rooster somewhere?” Juliet asked.
“I guess so,” Rod replied. “We’ll find out in a minute.” He was intent on the knob and lock on the outside door. “Someone oiled this so it would open easily, and it must have blown open, or maybe they left in a hurry and didn’t latch it properly behind them.”
“We can take care of that easily enough with a good bolt.”
“Yup, that’ll take care of them.”
“Did you know this door was here?”
“I’d forgotten about it and it’s hidden pretty good.” He opened it wide. A foot or so away stood the bulk of an industrial rubbish bin. “The Dumpster hid it. Bet that’s how the ‘face’ you saw disappeared so quickly the other night. He slipped behind the Dumpster. Could have even gotten inside the door. In the alley all you’d see would be the Dumpster.”
And have no idea there was a door behind it. “Let’s make sure it’s sealed for good. I don’t want anyone else sneaking in.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll see to it they won’t. Let’s check out the rest of his route.” The far door wasn’t even locked, and it opened into a cluttered storeroom. “Damn,” Rod muttered, “I’d forgotten about this place.”
They were in a large room, packed with enough cast-off and battered furniture to open a junk shop.
“Where is it?”
“It’s behind the storeroom. I shoved all this in here when I took over. Hated to throw out the stuff, as technically it belonged to Pete, so I left it all here and locked the door.”
The door that was now unlocked and, yes, opened into the small room where they stored cartons of toilet paper and napkins and catering-sized tins of beans and fruit.
“He had an easy way in and
out,” Juliet said, “but also had to know his way around. How many people know there is a back door behind the Dumpster?”
“Not many. Let’s worry about that after we make sure they don’t get in again.” She gave him a hand moving a tall bookshelf that Rod angled against the bottom stair so it made an effective barricade. Then, just to be sure, they locked all three doors. “The storeroom should be locked anyway,” he said. “I keep it locked!”
“Not a problem if our intruder had keys,” Juliet pointed out.
“Which, by all accounts, isn’t possible,” Rod muttered. “But he obviously does.”
“We’ll take care of that on Monday,” Juliet said, and it couldn’t be too soon. “You know”—they were in the corridor now, heading for her office, or maybe his—“why would someone go to all that trouble and risk being seen just to get us to read certain papers?”
“Changed your perception of the old man, didn’t it?”
True. “But it underscored he’d done the dirty on you!”
“I’m not sure about that.” Rod stopped and turned, pressing her against the wall, his hands flat on either side of her head, surrounding her with his presence. “Pete always said he’d see me right. I think he has. I’d rather have you than the Rooster.”
“Rod Carter, that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me!”
“Honey, I’m just starting with romantic. Didn’t we make plans just before you decided to explore behind locked doors?”
She decided? Yes, she supposed she had. Besides, there was no point in splitting hairs. Not right now. She could think of far more interesting things to do. “I’ve finished exploring for today.” She rested her hand on his chest and slowly trailed her fingers down until she cupped his fly and grinned up at him. “On second thought, perhaps not.”
His mouth was still; his eyes weren’t. “What about third thoughts? Are they naked thoughts?”
“After all that rooting around in the dust and dirt, I think they should be naked-in-the-shower thoughts.”
His smile suggested he agreed completely. “Good idea. You look great naked in the shower.”
Okay, so he’d had an eyeful. “It’s my turn to see you wet and soapy.”
He dropped a kiss on her forehead, nose, and each corner of her mouth. “Wet and soapy, eh? It’s going to be a tight squeeze, two of us in that shower.”
“We’ll manage—trust me.”
He kissed her chin. “Honey, we’re going to manage fine, for a long, long time, and now it’s time to give you a proper welcome to Silver Gulch.” He swept her up in his arms and headed for the stairs.
RUN OF BAD
LUCK
Karen Kelley
One
“Damn, I could’ve been in a nice air-conditioned room surrounded by naked men this morning. What the hell am I doing here?” Nina Harris grumbled.
Her front tire hit a pothole, throwing her off balance. She righted herself, glaring at the dusty dirt road stretching in front of her.
“I am so not enthused with Texas.” And apparently she was losing her mind since she was talking to herself. “Not good,” she mumbled.
She slowed as she came to a cattle guard with a half-moon wooden sign hanging over it. Maddock’s Dream, she read.
“Ah, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.”
This was it. Her grandfather’s spread. Probably more like a nightmare, but it was her nightmare now. He’d deeded her the place right before he’d died.
She’d never even met the man.
The little red convertible she’d rented bounced over the metal bars of the cattle guard, almost jarring her teeth loose. Up the road and around a bend, a sprawling two-story house came into view. A cluster of outbuildings, a couple of pens, and a large brown barn dotted the landscape of the Texas hill country.
No, not a nightmare. From what she could see, damn nice. One thought kept running around inside her head: Why had he deeded the place to her?
A group of men lining one side of a wooden fence caught her attention. She supposed they were cowboys by the way they were dressed: cowboy hats, chaps, boots.
Her interest peaked. Real cowboys…hmm…The magazine she freelanced for needed a centerfold. Maybe some of these bronco riders still had all their teeth. Her gaze swept over them again.
A bowlegged cowboy glanced her way, then returned his attention to the pen. Too old and obviously bent out of shape. Another cowboy spit a stream of brown juice on the ground.
She gagged, forcing herself to swallow past her nausea. She wasn’t even going there. Okay, the third one down the line had a nice butt. Maybe him?
She parked near the pen to see what they found so interesting on the other side of the fence and grabbed her camera off the seat as she climbed out of the car. She rarely went anywhere without it.
The lawyer hadn’t mentioned any of this, she thought, as she looked around. She’d only scanned the papers before signing them. It was a deed. Nothing that would get her into trouble. Besides the fact she was damn tired after her flight from California.
The men cheered, drawing her attention back to the pen. What were they having? A rodeo?
She smoothed her hands down her beige slacks and wandered over, found an open spot between two of the older men…and stared.
Ah, man, why hadn’t she come to Texas a long time ago? Her whole body tingled with awareness, heat spreading down her limbs. This was so not what she had been expecting.
The cowboy sat atop a bucking horse, one hand gripping a rope while the other hand was high in the air. His body jerked and twisted, moving with the animal.
This guy couldn’t be real. He oozed raw energy and a lethal dose of sex appeal, and, oh baby, he could park his boots by her bed any day. Her gaze moved over him.
This was good. Really good.
Excitement flittered down her spine. She jerked the lens cap off her camera and leaned between two boards, zeroing in on his face: the sweat beading his tanned skin, the unadulterated excitement, his rugged good looks.
A hot flush washed over her skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake as an ache began to build inside her. Taking pictures had never felt this damn good. She’d been photographing naked male hunks for a few years now, and she had to admit that it had been pretty exciting at first, but after a while it became routine.
This was different. He had all his clothes on and still looked better than any of the men she’d ever photographed. She didn’t think she’d ever get jaded capturing this much intense emotion.
No, this was the real thing.
She snapped pictures as the cowboy’s muscles strained, the horse dancing and bucking beneath him. The horse grunted, attempting to unseat the man. It was electrifying and damn sexy from where she stood because the cowboy didn’t look like he was ever going to give up.
She snapped a dozen or more pictures, then paused for a moment, mesmerized. The cowboy moved with a smoothness that told Nina this wasn’t the first lady he’d ridden, wasn’t the first lady he’d broken to his will.
He clinched his thighs on the horse’s sides, refusing to be thrown off. He rode her hard and fast, moving with her gyrating twists and turns.
Nina drew in a deep, ragged breath. Moisture broke out on her upper lip. Her breasts strained against her shirt, her nipples sensitive and throbbing with the need to feel his mouth covering one, then the other.
The camera whirred as she snapped off more pictures, capturing the man as he tamed the wild horse. The hunger inside her built. She lost count of the number of pictures she took. It could’ve been ten or one hundred and ten.
The horse’s sides heaved when she finally stopped bucking, coming to a jarring standstill, giving in to the inevitable.
Exhausted from the sheer energy it took to watch him break the horse, she lowered the camera, her arms limp at her sides.
The cowboy nudged the horse’s flanks, walking her around the pen, letting her settle down completely as he soothed her with soft
words, then jumped off to the cheers of the men. Two of them hurried to the center of the pen and took the horse’s reins.
He laughed at something one of them said, his smile wide and unrestrained. Nina was transfixed, unable to look away for even a moment.
The small group of men dispersed, apparently going back to their other duties, as the cowboy unbuttoned his sweat-drenched shirt and tossed it across the top rail. She was on the opposite side of the pen, but she had better than twenty-twenty vision and she didn’t miss a detail of each sinewy muscle. She was really glad he hadn’t noticed her yet or she might not have gotten this delectable display of flesh.
She brought the camera back up.
Her mouth went dry as she moved in for another close-up, watching the way his muscles flexed and relaxed, then flexed again. She snapped off more pictures, practically drooling over broad shoulders, bulging pecs, fantastic biceps, and a six-pack that made her long for a tall cool drink. And as if that weren’t enough, his low-riding, faded jeans and worn chaps jealously hugged his lower half.
Her gaze slowly moved back up his torso. She could almost imagine running her tongue over his skin, flicking across his nipples before raising her mouth to accept his kisses. She gripped the camera and drew in a deep breath.
Could her fantasies get any better than this?
He scooped a hatful of water from the metal trough and dumped it over his head, and as the water splashed over him, he slung it away with a jerk of his head.
Oh, yeah, things could get a whole lot better. Lord, she was practically having an orgasm just standing there. She didn’t even want to imagine what it would be like making love with him. But, then again, maybe she did.
She took more pictures. Water dripped from his sandy-blond hair onto his chest, over his stomach, sliding inside his jeans. What she wouldn’t give right now to be those droplets of water.
When she realized she just stood there, holding her camera in front of her face but not doing a damn thing, she quickly snapped off more pictures, then lowered it once again.
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