The Rancher's Surrender

by Jill Shalvis

  She was cold and he couldn't tear his eyes away.

  Another drop fell, and another.

  "Look, we're here to get this list made," she said with a shiver, and looked uneasily into the sky as yet another bolt of lightning streaked across it. More thunder and the air echoed like a drum, so loud that they could no longer hear the river. "So stop dawdling," she complained.

  "I can't say Delia didn't warn me," Ty said dryly. "But man, was she right."

  "Delia's never right, she just thinks she is."

  "She was right about this, believe me. You're grumpy as hell in the mornings, aren't you?"

  Her hand, the one that held the pen, fell to her side. The furrow between her brows deepened as she frowned. "I'm grumpy as hell all the time, you already knew that. And why were you talking about me to Delia?"

  "Because Delia likes to talk. And you know what? I don't think you're always grumpy at all. I think you just like to hide behind it." He stepped closer, his boots crunching in the dirt that was pitted with the sparse but huge drops coming down.

  Zoe lifted her chin, too stubborn to suggest they move into the barn, even as the sky let loose, dropping what seemed like gallons of water right out of the sky.

  They were drenched within seconds.

  Grabbing her hand, Ty yanked her inside the dark, musty barn just as thunder roared again, so loud his ears rung. Rain pounded the roof like a drumbeat.

  She ignored the fact that water ran down her face in rivulets, disappearing into the neck of her shirt, which was equally wet. She ignored the fact that he was wet, too. And that they were nose to nose, breathing hard as if they'd run a mile.

  "Why do you do that?" he demanded.

  "Do what?"

  His body was nearly flush with hers, so close he could see the pulse at the base of her neck as it went wild. Yet her face remained cool, and between them she crossed her arms, putting that barrier between their drenched bodies.

  It was frustrating as hell. "That," he accused, slipping his hand up, spreading it lightly on her throat and neck. Her skin was wet and unbelievably soft. Her hair had rioted, the dripping curls everywhere. "You pretend you don't feel anything, when I know you do. It drives me crazy."

  His touch drove her crazy, but he didn't have to know that. Talking was difficult with his hand on her, with his fingers flirting softly with her skin. Skin that had gone hot and itchy for more.

  Her heart thundered in tune to the driving rain. She dropped her arms to her sides and shivered as he brought his deliciously warm body closer. "I'm n-not cold," she said, stuttering as her teeth chattered. "You don't have to keep me warm."

  "If you're not cold, why are you shivering?" he asked. "For me?"

  "No."

  A lie and they both knew it. "If I kiss you," he murmured huskily, leaning close, his eyes sleepy and sexy, "are you going to hit me again?"

  "I didn't hit you last time, did I?" His fingers were moving on her now, flirting with the neck of her shirt, doing a little circle near her collarbone that had her legs feeling rubbery and weak.

  God. Why couldn't he just accept the unfeeling facade she was trying to give him? Why couldn't he just leave her alone? But no, he wanted her. He wanted Zoe, the real Zoe, the one she couldn't give him because she had buried that woman too deep.

  Outside the barn, the storm raged. Rain hit the roof like a herd of wild horses, pounding, drumming. It matched her pulse as she stared wide-eyed at the man holding her a willing captive.

  She thought she just might forever associate the sound of the rain with how she felt right now, as if she were on the edge of a huge abyss, waiting to fall, fall, fall … for a man.

  Not just any man, but this one. Ty Jackson. "I don't think kissing is a great idea," she said.

  He was as wet as she was. His clothes clung to every tough inch of his big body as he continued to invade her space with more than six feet of aroused male. "I do," he said.

  "Back up." She straightened her knocking knees ruthlessly. "You're crowding me." Because her voice sounded whispery and weak, she licked her lips and cleared her throat. "We have a list to make, and if you're not up for it, just say so."

  "Oh, I'm up for it."

  Her gaze jerked to his, but she hadn't been mistaken on the content of that comment, not with his eyes so hot. His hand stroked upward, cupping her jaw; his thumb rasped over her lower lip, which opened slightly as she fought the urge to suck it into her mouth. It was such a shocking yearning, she couldn't believe it. So she bit him instead.

  "Ouch!" He stared at her in injured shock.

  "The list," she reminded him breathlessly, when he'd yanked his hand back.

  "You bit me!" He sucked the finger into his own mouth and the strangest thing happened to her tummy. It got all tight and bouncy as if full of butterflies. Her thighs quivered. "I'm sorry." She laughed a little shakily. "I'm not sure what happened to me."

  His stare turned from hot to thoughtful, then speculative. "You're nervous," he decided.

  "No."

  "Yes, you are." His voice softened so that she had to strain to hear him over the noise of the thunder and driving rain. "I would never hurt you, Zoe."

  Feeling like a jerk because she had hurt him, she backed up a step.

  "No, don't go yet," he murmured, reaching for her. "It's still pouring." His hands slid slowly up and down her arms, warming her. "I've got an idea. Let's see where this attraction leads."

  She knew where it would lead, straight to bed, if they even got as far as a bedroom. "No." But because it sounded weak and maybe like she wanted to be convinced, she said it again, stronger. "No." Since she wanted to mean it, she stepped back, crossed her arms over her chest and added a glare for good measure. She had to because he was a man who attracted her in a way she hadn't been attracted before.

  He sighed but let her go. And go she did, turning and running out into the storm as if an entire family of wild bears were on her heels.

  It wasn't a bear. Just a man. One tough, intelligent, passionate man who had the unique ability to hurt her.

  She couldn't allow it.

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  « ^ »

  The chores were easily divided. Zoe handled the business aspect and most outdoor duties, negligible as they were until they got stock. Maddie handled all meals and worked with Delia on the inside of the ranch house, trying to repair and clean up all the damage from neglect, which was extensive. And expensive.

  Zoe reconciled the ranch's bank statements. They'd opened a new bank account to keep track of finances. Then she divided the bills into two: the pile that could wait a little bit longer, and the pile that could wait a lot longer.

  She sighed and rubbed her forehead.

  "That bad?" Delia came into the room, or rather flowed into it, looking beautiful and serene in a long silk pantsuit the color of a fresh, blooming lilac, despite how hard she'd worked all day removing ancient wallpaper, which had been rough, relentless, messy work.

  Zoe could ignore the fact that her own T-shirt was wrinkled and her jeans ripped at the knee, because how often had Delia offered—begged, actually—to make her some new clothes? But it was hard to ignore how tired and discouraged she felt. "Not too bad," she lied, hesitant to say more.

  Relations between her sisters never changed. They loved and supported one another through thick and thin, no holds barred. But Delia and Maddie didn't quite understand her obsession with being the true owner of Triple M and she knew it. She knew, too, that they would bury their hurt rather than press her about it.

  It was a disgusting little truth about herself that shamed Zoe. It was wrong, this burning need to belong above all else, including her sisters' happiness. She hated that about herself.

  Delia's mouth tightened, even as her eyes warmed. "Don't lie to protect me, hon. I know how tight the money situation is. Just tell me." Gracefully she sank onto the only other chair in the bedroom they'd converted to an office. "Are we going to make it?" />
  Lying would be good here, but Zoe just couldn't look into Delia's face and do it. Instead she studied the small room and what they'd done to it. The house had been cleaned and put into amazing shape in just the short time they'd been here, but all that effort had to be credited to Delia and Maddie, since Zoe had spent most of her time and efforts outside.

  Even so, the large ranch house was now clean, and because it was, the treasure of the house shone through. Rustic wooden ceilings. Terrific wooden floors. Large hallways and breezy rooms. Of course most of that loveliness needed work, badly. Windows needed replacing. The outside needed new siding, trim and painting. The plumbing was pretty much shot. And Zoe was convinced that one good wind would take the roof right off.

  The overall effect was shabby but clean, and full of character. And since it was theirs, all theirs, Zoe had never loved anything more in her life.

  And she didn't intend to lose it.

  Still, nothing could disguise the fact that they had a lot of house, more than three thousand square feet, but they had no idea what to do with it all.

  Delia leaned back and studied her latest manicure, silver nails with gold sparkles. "I guess your silence answers my question pretty well."

  "I could lie."

  "And I'd know it," Delia pointed out calmly. "I always know when you're lying, I have since we were five and you dipped my hair in the red paint and tried to tell me Kenny Harkins did it."

  "Well, how was I supposed to know you had eyes in the back of your head?" But the memory brought a smile to Zoe's lips, and they sat in companionable silence a moment.

  "Is it that bad?" Delia asked softly. "Are we in that deep?"

  "I don't know." Zoe shook back her hair and sighed. "I didn't count on spending nearly all of our nest egg on getting the buildings ready to house animals. I also thought there would be some animals."

  "What are we going to do?"

  Zoe thought about hedging, but in the end she had to say the rest, because if she didn't unload she was going to burst. "I don't know," she admitted. "Even if we had enough to stock the place with animals, not to mention hire the help to care for them, which we don't, we wouldn't have any extra for mistakes. Or even to allow for a bad season."

  Maddie came into the office bearing a tray of tea and cookies. "You both look worried. Maybe this will help a little."

  Zoe didn't have the heart to tell her sister that food wasn't going to cut it this time. But then her nose kicked into gear, going into overdrive at the scent of vanilla and chocolate. "Oh Lord. Are they warm?" she asked hopefully, leaning forward, her month watering, her fingers already reaching for a handful of fresh, still-hot chocolate-chip cookies.

  "Of course they're warm." With a small smile, Maddie handed Zoe a napkin. "Help yourself. I'll pour you some tea."

  Zoe moaned at the first bite as chocolate melted down her throat. "Okay, this will definitely help."

  She didn't try to continue her conversation with Delia until she'd put away three more cookies and an entire mug of steaming tea with tons of lemon.

  Delia restrained herself to a single cookie, watching disdainfully as Zoe stuffed herself. "God. How do you do that?"

  "Easy." Zoe eyed the tray and decided she could have just one more. "I open my mouth and shovel. Chewing's optional."

  "And you don't gain a pound. That's disgusting." Delia slid an elegant hand down her trim figure. "I'd pay for that binge for weeks."

  "Well, maybe you oughta give up Oprah and bonbons and work harder," she suggested, ducking when without losing an ounce of her cool calm Delia flung a manila file with deadly accuracy at her head.

  Zoe straightened and grinned. "Hey, don't hate me because I can pig out."

  Delia sniffed. "Well, at least I'm beautiful. I can always diet. You on the other hand…"

  Maddie sighed at the familiar bickering. "Girls … please. Here, Zoe—" she handed her another cookie "—put this in your mouth."

  Delia laughed. "Yeah, Zoe, stuff that trap shut."

  "Delia," Maddie said mildly. "Drink your tea."

  Her tummy comfortably full, Zoe sat back, watching Delia carefully to make sure she didn't get clobbered again.

  Delia watched Zoe with equal attention.

  Maddie sighed, but the sound was full of affection. "Now, tell me what's up."

  "We've got money trouble," Zoe admitted.

  "So?"

  "So?" Zoe laughed. "Didn't you hear me?"

  Maddie shrugged. "We've got money trouble. What's new?"

  Zoe stared at her and then laughed again. "Well, that's putting it into perspective."

  "It should," Maddie said. "Don't tell me you've forgotten all those nights we sustained ourselves on nothing but a twenty-nine-cent box of macaroni and cheese."

  "With water instead of milk," Delia added. She laughed fondly, then groaned. "Yuck. We might be back to that soon."

  Zoe's stomach growled at just the memory. There'd been plenty of tight times after they'd left their group home together, determined to remain a family despite all the insurmountable odds.

  Three eighteen-year-olds, innocent yet toughened by life. Eventually Delia had found her niche working in a beauty salon, catering to the rich who so fascinated her. Maddie had always cooked, first at Hamburger Palace, true, but she'd worked her way up to much fancier establishments.

  And Zoe … she'd had the hardest time finding her place. She hadn't known what she wanted out of life other than she wanted more. Finally she'd ended up at a city college, then the university at night. She was the only one of the three with a degree.

  Business management.

  She nearly laughed. What would she do with it on a ranch out in the wilds of Idaho?

  Hopefully she'd pull this off, that's what.

  Delia stretched. "It sure is getting old, being poor. I want the good life, dammit. I want someone else to give me a manicure for a change. And believe me, when I do, I'm going to tip really good."

  "You'd never let anyone give you a manicure," Zoe pointed out with a laugh. "No one would ever do it just right and you know it."

  "Well, that's because no one is as good as I am." Zoe rolled her eyes and turned to Maddie. "If we've always struggled, why am I so stressed-out over this one?"

  "Because it's different this time," her sister said wisely. "It means more."

  "It does, doesn't it," Zoe murmured, staring off into space. "Because it's ours." She straightened, determined. "And we won't lose it."

  "No, we won't lose it," Maddie said, equally determined.

  "No failing allowed," Delia agreed. "But I have to say here, if you'd just let up a little with the whole Ty situation, you could have it much easier."

  Here it was, Zoe had known she wouldn't be able to avoid it forever. "You want to let him in, don't you. You want him as a partner."

  "Would it be so bad?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?" Maddie asked, and Zoe didn't have an answer. "I mean, have you seen how that man fills out a pair of jeans?" Delia asked her incredulously. "Good Lord. He's got the greatest—"

  "Delia!" Maddie broke in, horrified, laughing. "How his bottom looks is absolutely irrelevant here."

  "How did you know I meant his butt?" Delia lifted eyebrows so high they disappeared into her perfectly aligned bangs. "You've been noticing, too, Maddie, haven't you? Admit it."

  Maddie blushed to her roots. "Knock it off."

  "You have." Delia laughed. "It's okay. I mean, he's gorgeous. You'd have to be dead to—"

  "Got it." Zoe gritted her teeth at this candid discussion of the center of her nightly fantasies. "I don't care how he looks in jeans—"

  "Oh, yes you do," Delia said calmly, smiling in a way that made Zoe want to smack her. "I've seen you drooling with lust."

  "It was anger! That man is annoying as hell."

  "Uh-huh."

  Zoe looked to Maddie for help, but Maddie was giving her a small, knowing smile. "You know," her supposedly shy sister said slowly, "the
way you lose it around him is very telling. I think maybe you protest too much."

  Delia grinned and nodded. "Yes. Yes, she does."

  Maddie's eyes weren't teasing but serious when they landed on Zoe again. "Did you know that Ty grew up on the streets of Chicago, without any supervision or attention or money or anything?"

  Zoe blinked at Maddie, unsettled by the quick shift between lust and life. "What? He told you this?"

  "Sure." Maddie poured more tea for herself. "He seemed to really understand the bond between us. So I asked him why and that's when I found out how hard it was for him. His parents didn't take care of him. He grew up pretty rough."

  That day in the truck, when Zoe had blurted out how guilty she felt about losing Constance before she'd gotten to know her, she'd sensed Ty's deep understanding, his deep grief about something she didn't understand.

  And she hadn't pressed for answers, not wanting to pry.

  No, that wasn't quite true, she admitted. She hadn't pressed because she didn't want to get to know him well. If she got to know him, she might care. And she didn't want that.

  Only problem—it was far too late, she did care.

  And now she yearned on top of that caring. Ached for the boy he'd been, all alone, just as she had been.

  But at least she'd had her sisters.

  Who had Ty had? She didn't want to know, didn't want to picture Ty as a lonely, frightened boy. "Let's leave Ty out of this," she suggested.

  Delia gave her a knowing look. "Can you?"

  "Of course I can."

  "Uh-huh."

  "Look, can we just get back to the fact that we're drowning here and I'd like to make this work? Without a partner?" Zoe let out a breath at both Delia's and Maddie's faces, which reflected both amusement and doubt. "I know you guys like and trust him, and I know it would be far easier if we let him in, but I just think we can do this alone."

  There was a moment of thoughtful silence. Then Maddie reached across the desk for Zoe's hand. "I do like him, but I won't force you to do something you don't want."

  Delia held back another minute and let loose a disgusted sigh. "Hell, hon, if you want to pass that fantastic man up, I think you're a fool. But I'm with you. We do this alone."