Send Me a Cowboy

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Send Me a Cowboy Page 3

by Joann Baker


  After all, she was his kind of woman. Nicely rounded and deliciously curvy. Her lack of faith in her own sex appeal was also a big draw. He’d like nothing more than to boost her self-confidence.

  Now if he could just put his brother off her scent, maybe he could try a different tact and sweet talk her into his bed. He frowned as he watched the two huddled together. Marcia stood to the side, scribbling furiously in her notebook. Before today, he could have sworn his brother was sweet on his secretary. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

  And Katie. Well, he’d put her hackles up with his order to leave his brother alone. She was going to be a challenge. He grinned. She reminded him of a tiny feline confronting a much bigger opponent.

  He strode past the group taking the steps to the ranch house two at a time. “Let’s get this tour started.”

  I’ve got a little kitten that needs some special handling.

  *****

  Katie’s head was swimming with facts and figures by the time the tour of the first floor was over. She took a seat on the bottom of the wide staircase, making neat columns of notes. John stood in the living room talking on his cell phone while Marcia and James headed to the kitchen. Although the ranch house wasn’t being used at the moment, it was still fully furnished and all the utilities were connected. In fact, she’d been told someone came in to clean once a week. She idly wondered why the new ranch house had been built. This one was delightful. It had that old west charm that was somehow lacking in the newer structure.

  It was perfect for a guest ranch.

  The downstairs already housed an industrial-sized kitchen, a large dining room which could easily be converted into an intimate restaurant-style setting, a spacious open concept living room for the registration and lobby area, plus additional rooms that could be turned into a library and conference rooms. There would, of course, be some renovations for bathroom facilities and maybe even an elevator. That would cost a substantial amount of money. She tapped her pen against her mouth. She’d have to check state regulations before mentioning it to John. No sense making him huffy if she didn’t have to.

  Because the building was so spacious, it might cost more than she’d originally estimated. The initial outlay would go toward renovations and additions, light refurbishing, salaries for staff, and advertisement. She wondered if James would allow her to continue to work with him on that. She already had some ideas on how to showcase the house and the ranch itself. No doubt there were spectacular vistas to be found all around the ranch. She assumed John would allow the guests access to most of the land. She’d have to check into that as well. If not, that could change the whole scope of the project. She frowned as she continued to make notes.

  “Let me show you the second floor.”

  She glanced up in surprise. John leaned over her, one long leg braced on the step beside her, his arm stretched above her, a lean hand resting on the pine banister. Her eyes were level with the apex of his thighs.

  My, oh my.

  She leaned her head back, straining her neck to look up at him. And she had to look way up. He really was a rather large man.

  He studied her face intently and Katie silently counted to ten in an attempt to control the blush she could feel waiting to heat her cheeks. She’d never been good at being the center of attention.

  “You have beautiful hair.” His free hand reached out, stroking her hair from the crown to the ends before dropping back down to his side.

  Well, that was certainly unexpected. “No, I don’t. It’s mousy.” She also wasn’t very good at accepting compliments.

  His lips curled up in a one sided smile. “A very pretty mouse, Katie.”

  The blush stole across her cheeks anyway as her heartbeat picked up speed.

  He moved back. “The bedrooms are upstairs.”

  “Okay.” She closed the notepad and tucked it under her arm. A bedroom sounded like a fine idea.

  He grinned at her eagerness and she groaned inwardly, her embarrassment at his eloquent expression making her want to hide her face in her hands. Instead, she cleared her throat and asked in her most professional voice, “How many are there?”

  “How many do you think we’ll need?” Again his expression was devilish, one black brow raised questioningly. But his voice, low and sultry, conjured up images of going with him room to room as they attempted to quench the desire she could see in his eyes.

  John threw back his head and laughed when Katie’s face turned a brilliant red. He reached down and pulled her to her feet. Standing on the step above him put her exactly at the right height for kissing. Thank God, he couldn’t resist such temptation. He covered her mouth with his, making her groan. His taste was so flavorful. Dark. Rick. Decadent. His arms went around her, pulling her against him. They were connected, chest to chest, thigh to thigh. Her softness cushioned him, welcomed him.

  “You taste delicious, Katie Lenard,” he whispered against her lips. Cupping the back of her head, he took her lips in a fevered hunger, probing the seam of her mouth with his tongue. “Open.”

  John nibbled at her upper lip in a way that made it difficult for Katie to think. In fact, she had no desire to think. She wanted to drown in the sensations spreading through her body. Hesitantly, Katie opened her mouth under his, relishing the shudder that ran through him at her surrender. His tongue coaxed hers to follow his slow, lazy movements. He tasted so good. A hint of coffee, a trace of mint. He tasted like a man should taste, she thought as the sensual haze thickened.

  His strong arms were like steel bands around her and Katie was glad for the support. Her knees were weakened by the kiss. She was no stranger to passionate kisses, but this was far different than any she had ever experienced. Most first kisses were hesitant and clumsy. There was nothing hesitant about John Kinkaid’s possession. As soon as her mouth had opened beneath his, he’d claimed her with his kiss.

  She had no idea how long they remained locked in the intimate embrace, so lost was she in the sensation of being held by him. Her body felt welded to his, the knowledge of his desire for her no secret. She wanted to melt into a puddle at his feet. She wiggled against him, seeking to get closer still.

  John pulled Katie closer, wrapping his arms around her waist to press her against the length of his body. One hand snaked beneath her sweatshirt, caressing the warm flesh of her lower back. He looked into her huge brown eyes and waited with barely concealed impatience for her reaction. The blood heated in his veins, his desire for the woman he held quickly reaching the boiling point. His fingers spread out deliberately, his touch becoming more intimate.

  The swell of her pretty breasts pressed against the fabric of her sweatshirt. The soft material hugged her curves lovingly. He wanted more than anything to discover what was hidden from his gaze. He moved his hand around her side, caressing the soft skin as he went. He pushed his thumb beneath the bottom of her bra, the tip moving back and forth along the gentle swell. He paused a moment to see if she would protest. When she just watched him with those big, brown eyes, he cupped her breast through her bra. Her abundant flesh overflowed even his large hand. He lifted his head to watch her expression as he touched her. She stiffened at first, then gasped when his thumb rubbed across her swollen nipple. She pushed closer, urging him to repeat the caress, and he bit back a groan. Her innocent response inflamed him, pushing quickly toward the point of no return.

  “Do you like that, honey?” She was so ripe, so full. He wanted to taste her. Instead, he bent his head and took her lips again, plundering her soft mouth. She tasted sweet. He could quickly become addicted to her.

  A sound from the other room forced its way through the fog in his brain. Lifting his head, he stared down at her moist lips, slightly swollen from his kisses. Reluctantly he removed his hands from beneath her shirt, wincing at the tight pull of his jeans as he backed away, putting one step between them.

  “This is not the best place for this,” he growled when he heard more movement from the kitchen area. James and Marc
ia were returning.

  “I, umm…” She bit her lip, staring at him through eyes widened with shock and sexual hunger.

  Unable to stop himself, he surged forward, giving her one last hard kiss before moving completely away. James and Marcia joined them mere seconds later. When James suggested they take a look at the bedrooms, John and Katie ascended the stairs quickly and avoided looking at each other.

  Neither saw the speculative look exchanged by their companions.

  *****

  Even though it was late January, it wasn’t terribly cold out. The thick sweater Katie wore today was sufficient for a quick trip outdoors. John was outside with several prospective clients. If she could interrupt at a convenient time, she hoped to speak with him for just a few moments. She brushed her free hand down her side, loving the feel of the material. The sweater had been Jessica’s Christmas present. It was a royal blue and she said it brought out the red highlights in Katie’s hair.

  Right. As she’d told John a week ago, her hair was mousy brown. She’d have silky, beautiful hair and a size four figure, just as soon as pigs learned how to fly. Katie walked toward the outdoor corral, smiling at her fanciful thoughts. The report for the guest ranch was almost complete and today would probably be her last day on the Triple K. She could finish everything else at her office in town.

  After the episode at the homestead, John had barely spoken to her. When she did have questions for him, he responded with short, curt answers or referred her to James or Marcia. She’d taken the hint and erased their encounter from her memory–or at least she’d tried. Throwing herself into the project, she’d worked hard to bring it in under the projected budget. It would be close.

  She’d told Jessica about the cold shoulder treatment and her friend had advised her not to be discouraged, that there was still plenty of time. But Katie no longer wanted John Kinkaid as her cowboy valentine. She wanted something more with the hard-headed rancher. She just wished she could find a way to make him want that too.

  She hadn’t spoken to him for two days. She’d gotten here early today only to find he was scheduled in back-to-back meetings with several potential clients. She’d been working over four hours today recalculating costs, budgets, and tax benefits. She wished she could put her love life together as easily.

  Her stomach rumbled. She was hungry but didn’t know if she should stay for lunch today. Running into town wasn’t an option since it was an hour away. She sighed. She probably should have brought her lunch. She could have walked around the ranch and found a spot to have a one woman picnic. And a good cry. Last week after the initial tour of the homestead everyone had returned to the main house for a late lunch prepared by the housekeeper-slash-cook whom Marcia had introduced as Mrs. Carter. As soon as he’d eaten, John had excused himself. And had been ignoring her ever since.

  She’d been left to work with James to determine what amenities and services he wanted to offer. James had deferred to Marcia on almost all decisions and Katie had soon discovered the two were definitely serious about each other. Maybe that was what had sent John into a snit.

  She walked down the steps, spotting John and another cowboy on the other side of the corral. Reaching the fence, she opened the gate, making sure to close it behind her. The ranching books she’d read over the last few weeks always mentioned greenhorns and their failure to close a gate behind them. She’d show John Kinkaid she wasn’t a greenhorn. That she could live in his world. Surprisingly, the corral was well-kept. She’d expected torn-up ground and patches of weeds. And lumps of manure. Instead, the grass was even and as well cared for as the lawns in the city. No poop in sight. Did he have a cowboy come out and scoop behind the horses?

  The thought made her laugh out loud and the sound drew the attention of the men. She’d made it about halfway across the corral before they noticed her. She waved the papers in her hand, signaling that she wanted to talk to them. Both men seemed to freeze for just an instant then all hell broke loose.

  John jumped over the fence and came barreling toward her. The cowboy ran to a large horse tethered to the corral. Why hadn’t she noticed it? Oh, right, her thoughts had been centered on John. Just as they had been since she’d seen his photograph.

  It was too far away to hear what John was saying as he ran toward her. Was he cussing her because she’d interrupted his meeting?

  Just as she wondered why he was running, she heard a noise behind her. Turning, she raised her papers to shield her eyes and saw the largest, blackest bull she’d ever seen in her entire life, flying hell-bent-for-leather across the corral. Straight at her. Now she knew why John was coming toward her like a bat out of hell. She was about to be flattened by two thousand pounds of pure fury. She froze. What the hell was she supposed to do? Play dead? No, that was in case of a bear attack.

  Instinctively she turned to run, uncaring of the ungraceful picture she was probably making with her boobs bouncing and her thighs rubbing together fast enough to start a fire. Why, oh why, hadn’t she started her gym membership yet?

  She lost her grip on the papers and they fluttered to the ground. Wasn’t a bull like a t-rex, their vision based more on movement than sight?

  Holy crap, Katie thought hysterically, trying to get her legs to move faster, where were all of these useless trivia facts springing from? She had to watch less Jeopardy and exercise more.

  She tried, she honestly tried not to be the horror movie extra who tripped and fell just as she was about to escape the clutches of the madman. But luck wasn’t on her side. Two steps later her right ankle crumpled beneath her and she went sprawling face first onto the ground. John was close enough now for her hear him.

  “Stay down, Katie,” he ordered, his voice hard with an emotion that sounded suspiciously like fear.

  Katie rolled up into a ball and lay perfectly still, ignoring the pain in her ankle.

  In seconds she felt his big, warm body folding around her. He’d put himself between her and the bull. She instantly started to struggle. “No,” she protested.

  “Shut the hell up, woman.” His arms clamped around her so tightly she was afraid he was going to crack a rib. She couldn’t breathe.

  After what seemed like hours, but was, in fact, only a few seconds, she became aware of the eerie stillness that had settled around them. The bull hadn’t charged. She heard the snorting of a horse.

  “Okay, boss, I’ve got him. Move nice and slow.”

  John’s hold loosened and he rose gracefully to his feet. Katie turned onto her back, taking in deep gulps of sweet air. At the moment she didn’t care about the picture she must be presenting of a beached whale. She was just grateful she didn’t have a gaping hole somewhere on her body. And that John was still in one piece. Never had she been so frightened. The bull had come out of nowhere but it was her fault for not paying more attention. Not only had she done something stupid to hurt herself, she’d put John’s life in danger as well.

  Tears slid from the corners of her eyes. Why, oh why, couldn’t she be an average size woman? Her weight got in the way of everything. If John hadn’t been there, the bull would have gored her because she couldn’t move out the way fast enough. She was aware of the other two men talking and movement above her. When something blocked the sun from her face, she opened her eyes, staring up at the man who had save her life. Before she could formulate a plan to get herself up off the hard ground gracefully, he squatted beside her.

  “Are you hurt?” The question was short and terse.

  “Are you?” she countered.

  “Don’t mess with me, Katie.”

  She sighed. He was entitled to his anger. She’d almost gotten him either severely injured or killed.

  “I think I twisted my ankle.”

  Expecting him to reach out a hand to help her to her feet, she was stunned speechless when his arms went beneath her shoulders and knees, lifting her effortlessly. How the hell had he done that? Turning her head, she half expected to see the other cowboy helping him
lift her. Nope, it was all John.

  “Wow.”

  “That’s all you can say?” he growled, his voice sounded odd. “You were damn near gored by a bull.”

  “Uh, yeah…” She cleared her throat. Should she tell him she was more impressed by his display of strength than her near brush with death? How many men could deadlift her weight? Way too few in her circle of acquaintances.

  He carried her into the house, but when he started up the staircase she protested. “Put me down. I can walk.” Despite his display of strength, she was too heavy for any man—even one as fit as John—to carry up a flight of stairs.

  “Shut up.” He continued to climb, holding tightly to her and preventing any move she made for release.

  Entering the closest bedroom, he sat her gently on the side of the bed then knelt down on one knee to examine her ankle. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  She shifted and tried to pull her foot out of his hold but he didn’t let go. He gently eased off her black sneaker and then her black crew sock. The skin around her ankle was puffed up and already turning purple. He gently manipulated the joint causing her to wince, but there was no escalation of pain.

  “Well, you’ve sprained the hell out of it, but I don’t think it’s broken. Lucky for you, the vet’s down at the stables looking over a horse.” He stared up at her. “I’ll have him come up and take a look.”

  “A vet!” she screeched. “What am I a prize bull?”

  “No,” he answered her as he gently lowered her injured foot and took hold of the opposite leg. “The prize bull is still in the corral that you so casually sauntered through like you were strolling through Central Park.”

  Katie ignored the throbbing in her ankle and the sarcasm in his voice. “I needed you to look at the report I’d revised so I could go home.” She wondered if the bull had eaten the paper. No wait, that was goats. God, her ankle had started to throb like the dickens.

  She was distracted from the pain as he removed her other shoe and sock. His hand was warm and comforting on the back of her calf. “Get out of those pants.” He stood, towering over her, making her feel small and feminine. “I’ll send Marcia up with an icepack while I get the vet.”

 

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