The Last Cowboy Standing

by Barbara Dunlop

  She was honestly too tired for this.

  “Are you from the rodeo?” asked Nadine, glancing from one to the other.

  “We are,” the stranger answered.

  Astra pointed to Travis. “He’s the guy who won, isn’t he?”

  “Are you a bull rider, too?” Nadine chirped to the other man.

  “I’m a bullfighter.”

  “So, one of the clowns?” she asked.

  “There’s a big difference between a clown and a bullfighter, ma’am. For example.” He jabbed this thumb toward Travis. “I saved this guy’s life tonight.”

  “I saw that,” Odette put in knowingly.

  “Nice buckle.” Nadine had turned her attention and her brilliant smile to Travis. She reached out and touched the shiny, gold and silver prize at his waist.

  Danielle couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the bling. Really? He had to wear it?

  “This is Travis Jacobs,” the stranger introduced, removing his hat. “He’s tonight’s bull riding champion. And I’m Corey Samson, bullfighter extraordinaire.”

  “Did he really save your life?” Odette asked Travis on a note of awe. Danielle knew the question was more about flirting than any true amazement at Corey’s feat.

  Corey looked to Travis and waited.

  “He most certainly did,” Travis acknowledged staunchly. “Bullfighters are highly skilled, highly trained, and among the bravest men on the planet.”

  The word wingman flitted through Danielle’s brain. Travis was trying to help his friend pick up Odette.

  Nadine turned to her. “That wasn’t short sentences and small words.”

  Travis’s challenging gaze turned on Danielle. It was clear he remembered her using that particular phrase in the past.

  “It was a generalization,” she repeated, refusing to break eye contact with him.

  “That’s very impressive,” Odette told Corey with an almost comical flutter of her eyelashes.

  “Danielle is continuously unequivocal in her elevated specifications for interactive discourse,” said Travis, keeping his expression completely neutral.

  “How does he know your name?” Astrid immediately demanded.

  “We met in Colorado,” said Travis.

  “Briefly,” Danielle pointed out.

  “Dance?” Corey asked Odette.

  “Love to.” She giggled as she came to her feet.

  “Dance?” Travis asked Danielle.

  “Too busy with my drink,” she responded airily, lifting her long-stemmed glass.

  “I’ll dance with you,” Nadine chimed in with obvious enthusiasm, holding out a hand.

  “Ma’am,” Travis answered her, gallantly tipping his hat, taking her hand and helping her to her feet.

  “You know a real live bull riding champion?” Astrid asked Danielle as the two couples left the covered deck for the dance floor inside, and Danielle concentrated on not looking at Travis’s rear end.

  “He’s not a champion.” Danielle went ahead and finished off the martini. “He only does it as a hobby.”

  “He’s pretty good.”

  “That’s what happens when you spend your entire life on a ranch in Lyndon Valley.”

  Astrid seemed confused by Danielle’s tone. “You hold that against him?”

  “What I hold against him is that he’s annoying and incredibly full of himself. To hear him talk, differentiating between a Hereford and a Black Angus is the only knowledge relevant to mankind.”

  Astrid was obviously fighting a grin. “Did you mix the two up?”

  Danielle sighed. “They do look a lot alike.”

  Astrid chuckled.

  “He mocks me,” Danielle elaborated. “All the time, on every level. And we only ever see each other at the ranch, so I’m always out of my element, and he has the advantage.”

  “You’re a Harvard graduate.”

  “I know.”

  “You shouldn’t let him get to you.”

  “I don’t.”

  “I can tell.”

  Danielle regrouped. “It’s just that his frame of reference is so different than mine.”

  “And that ticks you off.”

  “What ticks me off, is that he’s such a snob about it. I’m intelligent. I’m hard-working. People respect me, even other cowboys. Caleb and Reed are perfectly fine with me.”

  Astrid nodded toward the dance floor. “Looks like he’s getting along fine with Nadine.”

  Danielle couldn’t help a reflexive glance at the couple as they danced together. “Nadine has probably been blinded by the shine off that enormous belt buckle.”

  “She always was attracted to winners.”

  Danielle couldn’t help but take note of Travis’s hand on the small of Nadine’s back, her touch on his shoulder, the animated smile on his face, and the way she was chattering on to him. He twirled her around, and she laughed as he pulled her back, holding her even closer against him as they swayed to the music.

  Danielle couldn’t seem to stop a reflexive shimmer of sexual awareness from flashing through her belly. She pictured herself dancing with Travis. Then abruptly shook the image away.

  “What’s that?” asked Astrid.

  “What?”

  “You’re blushing,” Astrid accused.

  “I am not.”

  “You got the hots for the bull rider.”

  “Not even a little bit.”

  “I think a little bit. I think more than a little bit.”

  “I’m ignoring it,” Danielle declared, lifting her martini glass only to find it empty. She glanced around for the waitress. “I’m using intellect and reason to counteract inappropriate infatuation.”

  “You should dance with him,” said Astrid.

  “Not on your life.”

  “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”

  “I’m sure not doing anything tonight that I have to leave in Vegas.”

  “I’m talking about dancing. What is it you have in mind?”

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  She and Travis had come close to...well, close to something a couple of years back when he’d rescued her from a derelict barn. He’d mostly been amused, and she’d mostly been angry. But after they got back to his ranch house, and she’d showered and borrowed one of his sister’s robes, there’d been a moment, a very long moment, when he’d look like he wanted to kiss her.

  Her desire for that kiss had been so strong that it frightened her. She’d reacted defensively, uttering some patently untrue and hurtful remark. It had worked. He’d backed off. But it had also made him angry, and their relationship had never recovered.

  * * *

  “I see your drink is empty,” Travis couldn’t help saying to Danielle as he escorted Nadine to their table. He raised his brow in a question.

  “That’s your cue to dance with him.” The woman called Astrid nudged Danielle with her elbow.

  It was her cue to dance with him. Although he fully expected her to shoot him down, he had to take the chance. Danielle was in front of him, and he wanted to touch her. It was as simple as that.

  Nadine dropped into her chair at the table, crossing her shapely legs and taking a drink of something frozen and orange. “Go for it, Danielle,” she breathed. “The band’s great.”

  Danielle shook her head. “I’m not—” But then she stopped. Her eyes went wide, and she focused on a spot behind his shoulder. “Sure.” She rose to her feet. “Why not?”

  Travis glanced behind him, finding a smartly dressed man in his late twenties. He was clean-shaven. His light brown hair was slicked back, slightly shiny, neat around the ears. He wore an expensive, pin-striped suit, with a white dress shirt and a purple tie. The handkerchief in h
is pocket matched the tie, and his gaze was intent on Danielle.

  “Dani,” he opened with a dazzling, white smile.

  “Sorry, Randal,” she spoke breezily, linking her arm with Travis’s. “Just about to dance.” She all but dragged Travis toward the dance floor.

  “What was that?” Travis asked, as he turned her into his arms.

  “What was what?” she asked, all wide-eyed innocence.

  “What was up with the guy back there?” He settled a hand on the small of her back.

  “Nothing.” She took a breath, placed her hand on his shoulder and stepped into the smooth jazz music.

  She felt so good in his arms that he almost let her get away with it. The dance floor was crowded. The breeze from the open window ruffled her hair. Man, she was beautiful.

  But he was too curious to let it drop. “You were about to turn me down. Don’t pretend you weren’t. Then that guy showed up, and you changed your mind.”

  Danielle gave her short, brown hair a little toss. It was soft and trendy, long across her eyes, wispy at her neck. “I didn’t expect to see you in Vegas.”

  The longer he held her in his arms, the less he cared about the other guy. “Is that your way of telling me he’s none of my business?”

  “He is none of your business. But that’s my way of telling you I don’t want to talk about him.”

  “Okay by me.”

  “Thank you.” There was an edge of sarcasm to her voice.

  Travis was used to that. “I didn’t expect to see you in Vegas, either.”

  “I’m attending an international law conference.”

  “Interesting?”

  “It is if you like international law.”

  “Not exactly my forte.”

  “That’s true, isn’t it?”

  “Why are you smiling?”

  “Because, you’re in my world now, cowboy.”

  He didn’t exactly know what she meant by that. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to pursue it, either, since it would likely mean they’d end up arguing. The way he saw it, Vegas was as much his world as hers.

  “You saw me ride?” he asked instead.

  “The girls dragged me along.” She paused. “Bull riding is not exactly my sport of choice.”

  He wasn’t about to take offense. He’d have been shocked speechless if she’d confessed to a secret love of bull riding. “Where were you sitting?”

  She pulled back to look at him, her gaze quizzical. “Why?”

  He wanted to know if he could have possibly seen her after his fall, but he wasn’t about to explain that to her. “I wondered if you had a good view.”

  “Fourth row, across from the chutes.”

  “Good seats.” He could have glimpsed her on the way down, maybe filed her image away in his subconscious and brought it up when he hit the dirt. It was possible.

  She frowned. “I’m not sure being closer makes it any better.”

  “Are you trying to pick a fight?”

  She hesitated almost imperceptibly. “We never seem to have to try.”

  Travis’s skin prickled in warning, and he glanced around the room, catching the glare of the man who’d approached Danielle at the table. “Who is that guy?”

  “I thought we’d moved on.”

  They might have moved on, but the other man obviously hadn’t.

  “Are you dating him or something?” Travis asked.

  “No.”

  “No to dating him, or no to or something.”

  She drew her arms from him. “This was a bad idea. I’m going back to the table now.”

  “He’s waiting for you.”

  She reflexively turned her head, but Travis stopped her with a gentle palm on her cheek. “Don’t look.”

  She stilled.

  “He’s staring daggers into me. If I’m gonna have to fight, you’d better warn me now.”

  She gave a weary smile and a small shake of her head. “Nobody’s fighting.”

  Travis gathered her back into his arms, and she picked up the rhythm again. His body gave a subconscious sigh, and he drew her closer this time, her chest brushing his, thighs meeting as they moved. She was exactly the right size, exactly the right shape. She fit perfectly into his arms.

  “I’m pretty sure I can take him,” he mused, breathing in the fresh fragrance of her hair.

  “His name is Randal Kleinfeld. I knew him in law school.”

  “In the biblical sense?”

  She tipped her head back, dark eyes chastising him. “You are insufferably rude, you know that?”

  Travis might be rude, but Randal was intensely possessive. Not that Travis blamed him. Even he could see that Danielle was a gem, a beautiful, sensuous, fiery gem of a woman. And for the right man, there’d be no looking back.

  “Did you date him, Danielle?”

  “It’s business, Travis. He wants to talk to me about a job. With his firm. They’ve made me an offer to move to D.C.”

  Travis didn’t like the sound of that. If she switched firms, she would also switch clients. She might never come back to Lyndon Valley on business with Caleb.

  He tried to tell himself it didn’t matter. They’d seen each other maybe a dozen times in the past two years. They were barely acquaintances. Mostly they fought. There was certainly nothing personal between them

  Still, he found himself bracing for her answer as he posed the question. “Are you going to take it?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t need any pressure while I make up my mind.”

  Travis glanced at Randal again, taking in his clenched fists and the dark scowl that furrowed his aristocratic brow. It was patently obvious that he was after more than just a business relationship with Danielle. And Travis realized he had no way to stop him.

  Not that he wanted to stop him. Danielle’s personal life, in D.C. or anywhere else, was none of his business. He hoped it wasn’t Randal’s business. He hadn’t seen much of the guy, but what he’d seen, he didn’t like.

  Thankfully Randal didn’t have the upper hand, at least not at the moment anyway. Right now, Travis was the guy who had her in his arms, while Randal was the guy on the sidelines. He deliberately eased their bodies farther away from the crowd and splayed his hand across the small of her back, thinking he liked it this way.

  Two

  The next morning, Danielle told herself that Travis’s dancing her to the exit and spiriting her to the hotel elevator to get her away from Randal was no big deal. She didn’t owe him any grand thank-you. She’d expressed her appreciation last night, and he’d been polite about it. It was done, over. It had accomplished its objective.

  She didn’t need to contact him again. In fact, it was better if she didn’t contact him again. Their dancing last night had confirmed her secret fear. His body was as fit, as rock-hard and as sinewy as she’d fantasized.

  He was tall and broad. His chin was square, nose just imperfect enough to be masculine. His blue eyes sparkled with what she swore had to be hidden secrets. And even fresh out of the bull riding arena, he smelled fantastic. She supposed he’d probably showered. But it wasn’t any shampoo or cologne she’d reacted to last night. It was pure, male pheromones that had pushed up her pulse and made her skin tingle in anticipation of his touch.

  When he’d pressed their bodies together, a rush of pure arousal had flooded her system. Through the back of her thin, satin tank top, she’d felt the individual calluses on his fingertips. Her breasts had brushed his denim shirt, teasing her nipples, making them embarrassingly hard. Under her own hands, she’d felt the solid strength of his shoulders, the shift of his muscles, and she’d longed to touch every inch of him.

  Dancing with Travis was like secretly wat
ching an erotic movie, or spending a week’s pay at the spa or eating chocolate cupcakes with gobs of buttercream icing. You knew you shouldn’t, but sometimes a woman couldn’t help herself.

  Now, she made her way to the Sinatra Room to attend a panel on emerging market tariff relief. There was a refreshment stand in the south lobby, and she’d left herself time to pick up a cup of coffee and a muffin. She was thankful that she’d stopped after one martini last night. For a few minutes there, she’d been tempted to order another.

  “There you are, Dani,” came Randal’s friendly voice. “I don’t know how I missed you last night.”

  “Good morning, Randal.” She quickened her pace.

  “Are you going to the tariff panel?”

  She was tempted to say no so he wouldn’t join her. But it was an important panel. And if he saw her there later, it would just be embarrassing.

  “I am,” she answered. “Just got to grab a coffee first.” She veered off to the right.

  “Coffee sounds great.” He kept pace. “I’ll buy. So, how’ve you been? How are things in Chicago?”

  “Good,” Danielle replied. “Business is brisk.”

  “You got the letter from Nester and Hedley?”

  “I did.”

  They joined the long line snaking out of the small coffee shop.

  “Nice offer?” he pressed.

  “Did you have something to do with that?”

  Randal held up his palms in a gesture of innocence. “I wish I had that kind of clout.”

  She checked his expression, not sure whether she was buying it or not. “You didn’t bring me to the partners’ attention?”

  “I did not. I think they were impressed by the Schneider Pistole merger.”

  Danielle still wasn’t convinced. “And how did they know about Schneider and Pistole?”

  “Everybody knows about Schneider and Pistole. You successfully navigated some very protectionist waters. Bookmakers were giving it seven to one against.”

  “Very funny.”

  The line moved ahead, and they squeezed to one side to let departing patrons get past. The aromas of icing and cinnamon teased Danielle’s senses. She’d told herself to go with a whole grain, fruit muffin. But the sweet confection was tempting.