Best of Cowboys Bundle

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Barbara White Daille, Judy Christenberry, Christine Wenger, Shirley Rogers, Crystal Green, Nina Bruhns, Candance Schuler, Carole Mortimer

  She trailed her lips over his cheek and down his throat, dipping under the covers to spread kisses over his shoulders and chest. But when she went to move lower still, he stopped her with firm hands and lifted her back up to his face.

  “No, baby. I said I’d just hold you, and I aim to keep that promise.”

  “You didn’t promise,” she countered huskily. “You said any hanky-panky was up to me.” She wriggled to escape his grasp and continue her journey down his luscious body.

  He held fast and smiled weakly. “I never thought you’d actually do anything. You’ve been pretty adamant about not.”

  She pushed out a breath. “What are you saying? You don’t want to make love?”

  “Darlin’,” he said with a sardonic snort, “I think you can feel just how much I want to. The thing is, if I let you do this, next time I say I just want to hold you, you won’t believe me.”

  “Hawk, I didn’t believe you this time.”

  He groaned. “Which is exactly why I can’t let you do what you’re doin’.” His smile faded, and he reached to cup her cheek in his hand. “Rhiannon, when we make love I don’t want it to be an accident or because we got swept up in the moment. I want it to be because you want me.”

  “I do want you,” she insisted.

  “Ten minutes ago you didn’t. I want you to come to me, to my bed, knowing exactly what you’re coming for.”

  “Ten minutes ago that’s not what you were saying.”

  “I know.” He sighed deeply, gathered her closer and whispered, “But when I felt your body next to mine, tasted your sweet kisses, I realized pressuring you into having sex will never give me what I want.”

  “And what’s that?”

  He gave her a sad smile. “More,” he said, leaving her more confused than ever.

  A couple of hours later Hawk awoke to a reality better than all his dreams. A soft bed under him, a warm woman over him, and a feeling of peace in his heart.

  Then he tried to move his leg.

  “Son of a—”

  He swallowed the rest of his curses, not wanting to wake Rhiannon. Gritting his teeth, he eased out from under her and staggered to his feet. His knee hurt like the fires of hell, but he had work to do. The animals needed tending and then he had to—

  Nope. He wouldn’t be doing any range work today. He couldn’t even imagine getting on a horse, let alone riding out more than two yards. So much for his rustler watch. Maybe he could get in some extra training time with Crimson, if he could figure out how to stay standing without hanging on to the damn fence post.

  Inwardly he swore again. This was the last thing he needed to deal with.

  Rhiannon stirred in her sleep, her hand searching the spot where he had slept. After a tiny moan, her eyes fluttered open.

  “Hawk?” she said sleepily.

  “You go back to sleep. I’ll do the stalls today.”

  “Come back to bed,” she whispered, the hint of a smile on her lips.

  He almost groaned. Why today, of all days? He went to lean over and give her a kiss, and almost stumbled.

  She sat up. “Are you okay? Is your knee worse?”

  “Nah,” he lied. “Just a bit tender.”

  She gazed at him assessingly, and he knew that she saw right through him. “You are going to the doctor. I’ll hear no arguments. You can take Fitz and talk about his medication while you’re at it.”

  There was no percentage in arguing. He’d seen that mulish expression before. He’d lose. “Fine.”

  “I’ll call and make the appointment,” she said, sliding out of bed.

  The sight of her nude body had him catching his breath.

  “Come here,” he murmured, opening his arms to her. She slid into his embrace, for once willingly and without hesitation. If nothing else, their pillow talk had convinced her to trust him, physically. His heart gladdened. It was a step. An important one.

  Her curves pressed into him, and despite his honorable intentions, he had to battle the desire that welled up within him. There was nothing he’d rather do than ease between her legs and plunge up into her, staking his claim, making her his again.

  Instead he kissed her. And breathed in the intoxicating scent of her hair. And relished the tenderness in her green eyes as she helped him dress and limp downstairs.

  While she was on the phone, he hobbled into Fitz’s room to let him know about the trip to the doctor’s.

  He wasn’t there. Strange, he hadn’t been in his favorite spot on the couch watching TV, either.

  “Appointment’s for 2:30 p.m.,” she told him when he went into the kitchen after having searched the whole downstairs.

  “Have you seen Fitz?” he asked.

  “Why, no.” She glanced up. “Is he not in his room?”

  He shook his head. “He’s not in the house. I checked everywhere.”

  “Oh, dear,” she said, biting her lip. “I’d better check outside. Lord knows where he’s gotten to this time.”

  Hawk frowned. “This has happened before?”

  “A few times,” she said with a concerned glance out the window. “He’s never wandered far, though. I generally find him in the barn or out in the meadow.”

  “Lost?” Hawk asked, worry increasing by the second.

  “He usually thinks he’s back home in Ireland. He says he has to meet someone, urgently.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She looked at him apologetically. “I—You have enough to worry about. As long as I found him, I didn’t want you to fret over this, too.”

  He understood her logic. But if he was in charge here, he needed to know everything that happened on the ranch.

  Of course, she would debate that he was in charge. To her, this was her family and her business.

  And here he’d thought they’d made so much progress.

  “We’ll talk about this later. Right now we better find Fitz.”

  Afterwards he’d put an end to this tug-of-war, once and for all. And then they could figure out what to do about their relationship.

  Because one thing was for damn certain. After holding her in his arms all morning, there was no way in hell they were going back to sleeping in separate beds.

  Chapter 10

  “B e careful.”

  Hawk gave a final tug on Jasper’s cinch and placed the toe of Rhiannon’s pink boot into the stirrup. Jasper was Hawk’s other saddle horse, the gentler of the two.

  She gave him a tight smile. “Oh, I will.”

  “And don’t go too far. If you don’t find him, come back and we’ll call Pete to round up some of the boys to help.”

  “I’ll find him. How far could he have gotten?”

  “God knows. But I don’t want you both out there lost in the desert. The wind’s up. I’m afraid we’re going to get some weather.”

  Hawk was beside himself with apprehension and annoyance. They hadn’t found Fitz anywhere in the area around the house or outbuildings. None of the vehicles or mounts were missing. And Hawk was in no condition to climb into a saddle and look for him.

  It’s not like Rhiannon hadn’t ridden before. She’d occasionally taken Jasper out alone for short exercise rides, and longer ones when Hawk was with her. She’d do fine, or he wouldn’t be letting her out of his sight.

  But he still worried. The desert was a big, formidable place if you weren’t used to it. It could swallow you up in a minute and not spit you out again for years. Especially if it started snowing.

  For the tenth time he shook the canteens hanging from the saddle horn and patted the first-aid kit tucked in the saddlebag. “Maybe I should get you a blanket. Just in case.”

  “Hawk, don’t fuss,” she admonished. “I must go now, before he gets any further.” She leaned down and gave him a quick kiss. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right as rain.”

  With that she spurred Jasper and was gone in a puff of dust.

  Instantly Hawk regretted letting her go. He should just have downed ha
lf a dozen aspirin and gritted through the pain, regardless of what she said. He’d hurt far worse back in his rodeo days.

  Okay, maybe not. But it went against everything he believed to let his woman carry the weight meant for him. It was his job to take care of her. He’d failed his mother when he was young. It made him crazy to think he was failing Rhiannon in the same way.

  It seemed like hours before he spotted Jasper trotting back over the rise with Fitz bouncing behind Rhiannon, but in fact it was only forty minutes.

  Meanwhile Hawk had downed some painkillers, fed the animals and made coffee. With a sigh of relief, he trudged to the barn to meet them.

  Helping Fitz down from the horse, he asked, “What were you doing, old man, running off like that? You had us real worried.”

  “Gettin’ a Christmas tree,” Fitz declared. “Only three weeks till Christmas, y’know. Gotta find a good one.”

  Hawk could only stare. He flicked a glance to Rhiannon, who lifted a shoulder along with her brows.

  “There’s only junipers and piñon grow around here, Fitz. We need to go farther up in the mountains for pines.”

  “Where d’ya think I was headed?” he answered calmly.

  “Next time take one of us with you when you go hiking,” Hawk said, struggling to keep his voice mild. “In fact, we can all go. We’ll bring a picnic. How would that be?”

  Fitz beamed. “Brilliant.” He started walking back toward the ranch house. “Don’t forget, we need to slaughter that pig in time for Christmas dinner,” he called over his shoulder. “He’s a nice fat one, he is.”

  Hawk sighed and turned to Rhiannon, whose face had gone a few shades paler. “What?” he asked.

  “I quite like the little beast. I’m not sure I can bring myself to eat him.”

  Hawk didn’t usually get sentimental about stock raised for food, but he had to admit he’d also grown fond of the Christmas pig this year. With cheerful snorts and grunts, it had always trotted out to greet Hawk each morning when he’d come with the bucket of slops and feed, gazing up at him like a faithful puppy. He missed owning dogs, and had taken to giving it a scratch between the ears whenever he walked by. They were pals. How could you eat a pal?

  He shook his head of nonsense and said, “It’s either that or another turkey. We can’t afford much more.”

  “Maybe we can sell him to a child looking for a pet,” she suggested. “And use the money to buy a ham at the store.”

  He gave a bark of laugher, then saw he’d offended her. “Maybe,” he said with as straight a face as he could muster. “Why don’t you ask around at Jake’s?”

  “I’ll do that,” she said with a nod.

  He took Jasper’s reins from her and put his other arm around her shoulders as they walked to the barn together. “You have Christmas trees in Ireland?”

  “Of course. And presents and carols and figgy pudding. What else do you do to celebrate here?”

  “Not much,” he admitted. “In the past, Fitz would drag us to midnight mass every few years. We weren’t big on exchanging gifts, being mostly bachelors on the ranch. Back when there were a few families with kids, we’d have a little party on Christmas Eve for them. The Christmas Day pig roast was always the highlight, of course.”

  Oops. He checked her reaction, and when their eyes met, she made a choking noise. Then they both laughed.

  “Sorry. We’ll skip that part this year. Don’t worry, Fitz will probably forget, anyway.”

  “It’s silly, I know. It’s just…”

  “I understand. Once you start caring for someone, you don’t want to see them hurt, even if it messes up your plans.”

  She nodded. Their gazes met again and held for a long moment. And suddenly they weren’t talking about pigs.

  “Rhiannon—”

  “Please, Hawk,” she interrupted in a beseeching voice.

  “You know I care about you.”

  “Don’t,” she said. “If you really don’t want to hurt me, don’t ask me to marry you again.” She shook her head sadly. “Besides, you don’t have to, now that we know Irish Heaven is going to you.”

  He stopped dead in his tracks. It was the first time he’d heard her concede the inheritance. He didn’t know what to make of her sudden change of heart.

  “You’re wrong,” he said. “That’s exactly why I have to keep asking until you say yes. You deserve to share this land, and Fitz is never going to allow it to be divided. It’s the only way.”

  She wouldn’t look at him, damn it.

  He threw up his hands, startling Jasper. “I don’t understand you! You seem to like me, we have great sex together, and I’m offering you over a million dollars’ worth of property. If it doesn’t work there’s always divorce. Is there a down side to this I’m not seeing?”

  Stroking the horse’s nose to gentle him, she still wouldn’t meet Hawk’s eyes. “I don’t believe in divorce,” she said quietly. “And even if I did, we’d be right back where we started. One of us losing. Better to get it over with now.”

  “You’re assuming our marriage won’t work. Don’t you think I can make you happy?” He held up his palms, warding off a reply. “Never mind. I guess I know the answer to that.”

  Hurt cascaded through his body, worse than the pain in his knee could ever be. He clenched his jaw and turned away so she wouldn’t see.

  He didn’t know why her rejection should hurt him so bad. He didn’t love her. He hadn’t loved his mother, either, when she’d kicked his butt out at fifteen. Hadn’t loved the rodeo when that big bull had bucked him off and stomped his leg to bits, ending his career. He didn’t love anything in this life other than the land he was standing on. And that land was going to be his. He didn’t need anything else. Certainly not Rhiannon O’Brannoch.

  He’d been generous, but if she didn’t want him, fine.

  Because he didn’t love her.

  Honest to God he didn’t.

  That afternoon steel-gray clouds crept down from the north, shrouding the high plateau in a dark, biting chill. While Hawk and Fitz drove to their doctor’s appointment, Rhiannon prepared the ranch for the snow she could smell coming. It would be a bad one, she thought, lifting her nose to the angry, roiling skies.

  Almost as angry and roiling as Hawk’s mien had been after their conversation that morning.

  She didn’t know why he was so upset. She was the one who stood to lose everything. She’d even admitted as much aloud for the first time ever, much to her own consternation. She hadn’t meant to admit defeat. Indeed, she was still unconvinced he would inherit from Uncle Fitz. If she truly believed that, she’d be making plans to return to Ireland as soon as she had enough tip money scraped together. Though no longer her birthright, the family farm was generations ago bought and paid for, and money not a source of strife. Life there was comfortable—if depressingly meaningless.

  With a sigh she battened down the barn for the coming storm, bringing in Lucky Charm and the horses, making sure the animals would be cozy and safe inside. Then she carried an extra pile of logs for the woodstove into the house, so the humans would be, too. At least physically.

  If only it were that easy to make two people emotionally comfortable with each other.

  She had a feeling it was going to be a very, very long winter.

  The first snowflakes were already falling when Hawk pulled the truck into the driveway just before suppertime. Rhiannon went out on the porch to meet them.

  “How did it go?” she asked.

  “Good.”

  “Janet, me love!” Fitz sang out, disgorging from the passenger seat with a flourish. Obviously they’d made a stop at Jake’s before coming home. The grin on his face and the scent of beer clinging to his day-old whiskers gave them away.

  She gave him a hug, and he swung her around in an impromptu jig. It was wonderful to see him this cheerful.

  “We got you a tree, we did,” he said, urging her down the steps to the back of the truck, where Redhawk was o
pening the tailgate to reveal a compact little pine tree. He hauled it out and held it up straight for her approval. A bit taller than him, it was lush and green.

  She clapped her hands. “Oh, it’s perfect! The shape is exactly right!” She stepped in closer and ran her fingers up the soft-stiff needles of its branches, inhaling deeply of their spicy, tangy scent. “It smells divine.”

  Hawk watched her wordlessly the whole time, an unreadable expression on his sculpted face. Snowflakes danced around him like mischievous fairies, settling on his broad shoulders and coal-black hair, his long, thick eyelashes and the coppery slashes of his cheekbones and nose.

  Her breath caught in her throat. He was so beautiful. Enhanced by tight, worn jeans and an old jade-colored flannel shirt, his tall, athletic body would make any red-blooded woman feel the tingle of desire. She was no exception. But it was no mere tingle she felt, it was an avalanche.

  Too much. She had to turn away.

  “Where shall we put it?” she asked, to mask her dismay at how deeply under his spell she found herself.

  “Next to the front window,” Fitz said, taking the top while Hawk lifted the heavier bottom. “That’s where it always goes.”

  She noticed Hawk wasn’t limping nearly as badly as before. “What did the doctor say about your knee?” she asked, following them up the steps.

  “Inflammation of the ligaments. He gave me a couple cortisone shots and a prescription, and told me to stay off it for a few days. Feels better already.”

  “I’m glad,” she said. “You look better. What about Fitz?”

  Easing the tree through the door, he murmured, “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

  She nodded bleakly. That couldn’t be good news.

  But for the rest of the afternoon and evening, she put it determinedly out of her mind as together they fetched a large, ragged box of ornaments from the attic and decorated the tree and living room. Fitz had insisted Hawk buy eggnog for the occasion, and produced a bottle of twelve-year-old Irish whiskey to sweeten the mix. He even dug up an old Bing Crosby Christmas album and played it endlessly on the ancient stereo.