“Is that what you want, Princess? To get down and dirty with a cowboy before you go back to your ivory tower?”
Pain seared her heart at his hurtful words. She twisted against him, surprised when he let her turn. Though, with his hands on the counter, he effectively trapped her. When she looked at his face, she didn’t see pleasure there as she’d hoped. Instead, she saw contempt. He’d been toying with her. Taunting her.
Fury replaced the pain, and she slapped his face.
He barely moved. Blinked once.
“Get out of my way.” Proud that her voice was strong, she shoved at his chest.
He stepped back.
She shook so hard she could only pray her legs would carry her from the room. “Don’t you ever touch me. And you bloody well better never talk to me that way again. I’m not your whore.” She ran for the stairs, feeling his stare bore into her back.
Neela sank to the floor after locking her bedroom door. “Fuck,” she said through a tear-tightened throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She’d loved Travis for so long. Through all the years, she’d kept a special place in her heart for him and him alone. Her first love. The man who had fit all her girlish fantasies.
It really sucks, she thought, when dreams shatter.
Chapter Three
A glass of Jack Daniels in one hand, Travis sat in a lawn lounger on the patio off his bedroom, staring up at the night sky. Shame swamped him, made him feel as low as pond scum. If his father had been alive to witness the way he’d treated Neela, Jack Kincaid would’ve taken a strap to his hide.
He’d been raised to respect women. To treat them with care and kindness. Instead, he’d insulted and hurt her, shaming them both.
He threw back the whiskey and relished the burn as it traveled down his throat to warm his gut.
There was no excuse for the way he’d acted. Even as he tried to justify it to himself, he knew he couldn’t. He’d acted like an uncivilized asshole. All because she did things to his insides he couldn’t understand. Twisted his gut into a knot. Made him hard and hungry when he never thought he’d feel that much lust for another woman as long as he lived.
She smelled of jasmine. It was the same fragrance she’d worn as a teenager, but now...damn it. There was nothing else the same about her. She was nothing like the innocent, starry-eyed teen she had been.
For some tiny moment, he’d hoped she’d still be the cute kid he remembered. The one who’d followed him around with sparkling eyes filled with puppy love. She’d flattered him back then. He’d been head over heels in love with Theresa, the woman he married just a few months after Neela had gone home to England. But to have an adoring female hang on his every word, smile at his corniest jokes...well, it was a major ego boost. Made him feel protective of the girl.
But she wasn’t that little girl any more. She was a woman. Had bared most of, if not all of, her body in magazines, fashion shows, billboards, and God only knew where else. The tabloids and entertainment TV shows had paired her with dozens of men. Models, actors, musicians.
Theresa had been pregnant with Aaron the first time he’d seen Neela on Entertainment Tonight. Snapshots of her in a next-to-nothing bikini in a compromising position with some European heartthrob on a beach somewhere. He’d been disappointed in her. And, admittedly, a little hurt that she’d turned out the way she had.
She’d been so smart. She could have done anything she wanted with her life. She’d taken interest in the horses, in their care, constantly questioning him. He’d wondered why she hadn’t become a vet, or at least done something with animals.
Instead, she’d sold her body. Maybe not in the Biblical sense, but in his book there wasn’t much difference. She’d used her body—her dark, sultry looks—for profit.
Her spoiled arrogance angered him. Had she fallen into his arms willingly, as he’d expected her to, his guilt would have been much less.
Yet, when he’d come on strong with her, she acted offended and hurt. A reaction that confused him even while it pointed an accusing finger at him.
Travis reached down and lifted the bottle of J.D. from the wooden porch floor and poured another shot.
In person, she was more exquisite than any photo he’d seen of her. The glossy, airbrushed pictures in the magazines his wife had enjoyed reading didn’t hold a candle to the living, breathing Neela Singh.
Her soft English accent, combined with her naturally husky voice. The way her hair curled slightly at her shoulders. How her dark eyes watched his every move. How her full lips moved when she spoke, or smiled, or frowned. Or the way they’d parted on a gentle sigh when he’d touched her. Her sweet scent.
Travis groaned as his cock grew thick within the confines of his jeans. Yes, he’d meant to taunt her, to scare her away. What he hadn’t expected was his own body’s reaction to her. She’d trembled at his touch, and her skin had flushed when he drew his teeth along her neck. She’d tasted sweet and salty. Heaven and hell. And he’d lost it.
In that moment he’d wanted her more than he’d ever wanted another woman. Wanted to sink into her heat and hear her moan his name. To run his hands over all that bronze flesh she hid underneath long sleeves and pants. The clothing itself taunted him, effectively hiding her from the neck down. Where were the cutoff jeans and tiny tube tops she used to wear?
He downed the remaining whiskey and set the glass on the floor beside the bottle. Popping open the buttons of his fly, he pulled his already hard and throbbing cock free. He wrapped his right hand around the shaft and pressed against his balls.
It wasn’t Neela’s soft, giving body, but his hand was all he had. Damn him, he would have taken her right there against the kitchen counter like a rutting bull if she’d let him.
He stroked the length of his cock and closed his eyes against the too-bright moon shining down on him like an accusing spotlight. Here sits a man who should be shot, he thought as he slowly stroked his dick. A man who hadn’t had sex in so long he was willing to attack a defenseless woman.
“No,” he growled as his balls drew tight. She’d been aroused. He’d heard it. Felt it in the pucker of her nipples against the lacy bra cups and front of her blouse. Saw it in the flush of her skin. She’d wanted him. Maybe as much as he’d wanted her.
But he didn’t want her, a part of his mind shouted. You don’t want her.
His body denied the accusation as cum pressed at the base of his cock, ready to explode. You want her to suck your cock with those lush pink lips. To press those breasts in your face and beg you to taste her nipples. To taste her pussy. To impale her on your dick. And to hear her scream your name as she orgasms with you deep inside her.
He clenched his teeth and groaned as cum shot out of him, and he pumped his hand hard, milking every last drop. He slumped against the chair, breathing hard.
God damn him. She wasn’t the woman he wanted. He didn’t want any woman. His wife, his one true love, had died three years ago. He refused to get sucked in by Neela. By her sexy accent and sultry voice.
As he poured another shot of whiskey, the only picture in his mind was of her sad eyes as she stared at him, disbelief and hurt written on her face. Right before she’d slapped him.
Damn him. How could he have treated his little princess that way?
* * * * *
Life moved at a much slower pace here than it did anywhere else she’d ever been. Time slowed to a crawl. The days felt like weeks.
Neela sat back on her heels and swiped the sweat from her forehead. She’d been on the Rocking K for almost a week, yet it felt like months. Besides taking care of the boys, cooking three meals a day, cleaning the house and washing load after load of laundry, Travis had given her a list of additional duties. One of those included tending the garden. Today she was on hands and knees weeding the cucumber plants. The boys played on the wooden swing set in the backyard, where she could keep an eye and ear on them while she worked.
She found the physical labor rewarding and already could feel a
change in her body. Not that she’d ever let herself get soft, but this work took different muscles than spending a half hour a day in her father’s weight room. She just wished there were something she could do about the scorching sun. Even at nearly six in the evening the sun was still high, the heat sweltering. She’d give anything to don a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.
A sardonic smile curled her lips. If she wore shorts and a T-shirt, exposing her scars, she could guarantee that Travis would stop staring at her every time they were in the same room. But she couldn’t expose her scars to sunlight, and she didn’t want to frighten the children.
The days were filled with work and playing with the boys. The little rascals were sweet and mischievous. Especially Aaron, who did anything and everything to gross her out. She’d found three bullfrogs in the sink one afternoon. Another time a garden snake had made its way onto her bed. Little did they know she’d had fun catching the creepy critters when she was here before. She’d scolded and acted suitably terrified, but she didn’t think she fooled them. She couldn’t ever really be angry because she was already madly in love with each of them.
Travis pretty much ignored her. They spoke only if it pertained to the boys. Jeff arrived every morning at six-thirty from his house on the other side of their property where he and Carol lived. He’d have a cup of coffee while Travis finished breakfast and kissed the boys goodbye. Then they’d leave, and Travis wouldn’t return until supper.
He spent the evenings with the boys while she cleaned the kitchen and folded laundry. She went to bed when the boys did, and then the process would start at the crack of dawn the next day.
Carol called several times each day to check on her, but she’d only seen her cousin twice since arriving. Neela didn’t say anything about the tension between her and Travis. She didn’t want to worry Carol who already had enough to be concerned about, being eight and a half months pregnant.
Neela heard the approach of Travis’ truck on the other side of the house and called to the boys. “Your dad’s home! Time to get cleaned up for supper.”
Aaron, holding Christopher’s hand and trailed by Bobby, came toward her, careful to step between the rows of cucumbers and not on the plants. Neela smiled at the oldest boy. He was very watchful of his baby brothers. She pushed to her feet and ruffled her fingers through his dark hair when he reached her.
“I think Chris had an accident,” he said in a loud stage whisper.
She tipped her head to look down at Chris whose face was down turned. She heard a sniffle. “Ah, honey,” she said and lifted him into her arms. She felt his wet bottom against her forearm. “Don’t cry. We’ll get you cleaned up.”
“I’m big boy,” he said defiantly. But then he ruined his bravado when he threw his arms around her neck and buried his face against her shoulder.
“Yes, you are a big boy. But accidents happen to all of us.”
“You wet your pants?” Aaron asked, his eyes scrunched against the sun as he stared up at her.
She laughed. “Not lately, but I remember when I did. Come on. Let’s get you boys in the bath.” She turned toward the house and nearly smacked into Travis. She stumbled backward, but he grabbed her arms to steady her, then scowled at her. Not that she could recall him not scowling at her in the past week.
“What’s going on? Why’s my boy crying?”
Chris’ arms nearly choked her when Travis reached to take him from her. “Want Nee.”
Travis heaved a sigh.
“Chris peed,” Aaron announced.
Bobby continued to stare, not saying a word. He never said much, but his eyes shone with deep intelligence. He knew everything that went on around him.
Travis reached for Chris again. “Come on then. Let’s get you cleaned up. Auntie Carol wants us to go out to supper.”
“No...Nee!” His stubby legs wound around her waist until he clung to her like a monkey.
“I’ll take care of him,” she said softly, dropping her gaze from Travis’. She saw what Chris’ words did to him, and she felt bad. But getting the boy cleaned up was more important than his daddy’s hurt feelings right now.
She moved past Travis and walked between the rows of foot-tall cucumber plants toward the house. The two other boys trailed behind her. They hadn’t even hugged their father hello.
Chapter Four
Neela couldn’t stop her head from swiveling from side to side as she took in the rustic, purely western décor of Josie’s Grill. Squished into a too-small table between Bobby’s and Chris’ high chairs, she enjoyed the rhythm of the slow country ballads pouring from the jukebox in the corner, the tangy scent of barbeque, and the sounds of conversation from the crowded restaurant. As a female, she couldn’t help but appreciate the array of denim-clad, Stetson-wearing cowboys who streamed in and out the door.
“I think her eyes are going to bug out of her head,” Jeff said around a chuckle before he took a swig from his longneck beer bottle. “So, what do you think?”
“It’s like something out of a movie,” she said then grinned. “I didn’t know places like this really existed.”
“Josie’s definitely has character,” Carol said. She picked up her iced tea and sipped. “And the best ribs in the West.”
“And you’re going to complain about heartburn all night.” Jeff’s words were censorious, but he grinned at his wife. The love between them was so obvious and...big, it made Neela’s chest hurt.
Carol gave Jeff a little shove against his shoulder, which prompted him to lean over and capture her lips in a heated kiss.
“Eww, gross!” Aaron covered his eyes and turned away.
Neela laughed. “As gross as bullfrogs in my sink? As earthworms in my shoes?”
Aaron dropped his hands. His grin was gone, and he turned toward Travis with a look of unmasked shame coloring his cheeks.
She frowned and looked at Travis who scowled at his oldest son.
“You put worms in her shoes?”
Oh, she’d done it now. Why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut? Tears filled Aaron’s eyes before he dropped his head forward and muttered, “Yes, sir.”
What the hell was going on? Why were the boys acting terrified of him the past couple of days? When she’d arrived, they’d been ecstatic to see him at the end of each day. Today they didn’t even greet him, Chris hadn’t wanted anything to do with him, and now Aaron was about to burst into tears because Travis practically growled at him like a pissed-off bear.
“Why?” Travis demanded, his voice harsh.
Aaron shrugged, his gaze firmly fixed on the tabletop.
“Look at me, son, when I’m talking to you.”
Neela cast a nervous glance toward Carol and Jeff. They both looked as confused as she was. Carol’s brows furrowed into a frown. Jeff shook his head and sighed.
Aaron lifted his face. A tear spilled from his right eye and nearly broke Neela’s heart.
“Why did you put worms in Neela’s shoes?”
“Because I told him I’d take him fishing at the pond, but we needed worms, and he had nowhere else to put them.”
Travis narrowed his eyes at her, obviously not believing the outrageous lie. “And the frogs?”
She pressed her lips together tight for an instant, wishing he’d drop it. Suddenly their pleasant dinner, the first they’d had since her arrival, had turned sour. At this rate they’d all go home with heartburn. “French cuisine. I’d planned to pickle the legs, but couldn’t bring myself to kill the little buggers. Aaron and Bobby were kind enough to put them back outside when I asked them to.”
“Ah-hem,” Carol said, loudly clearing her throat. “Travis, why don’t you take Neela out on the dance floor where you can finish this little conversation in private.” She cast an obvious glance at the boys then back at Travis.
Travis stood so fast his chair almost fell over. “I think that’s a good idea, Princess. We need to talk.”
Bugger it all. The man was a bloody ass. She threw her napkin o
n the table and stalked after him as he made his way to the tiny patch of hardwood flooring in front of the jukebox.
He turned so suddenly she almost ran into him. He grabbed her and pulled her against him, his hand on her left hip. The breath whooshed out of her as her chest bumped against his. He didn’t even give her time to worry about him feeling her scars through her clothes.
Even as they moved to the slow beat of the music, he demanded through clenched teeth, “What the fuck is going on in my house while I’m not there? What are you doing with my kids? They don’t want anything to do with me, and now you’re lying to me right in front of them. And they know you’re lying. What kind of example are you setting? God damn it, I knew I never should’ve let you stay.”
Neela couldn’t find it in herself to join the argument. He was probably right. Why would anyone want her to be responsible for their children? She didn’t have any kids of her own. Had never spent time around very many children.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, knowing the words wouldn’t make any difference to Travis. He was bent on hating her. He thought she was nothing but a spoiled princess. Maybe that’s all she’d ever be good at. She’d really tried hard to do everything right this past week. Followed his damn list to the letter. And enjoyed herself more than she ever had in her life. Except when he was around. One second he stared at her, and she could see the lust in his eyes. The next, he showed nothing but contempt.
She focused on the pearly button of his denim work shirt. Breathed in his clean, masculine scent. Saw the smattering of dark chest hair rising above the V opening of his collar and idly wondered what it would feel like against her fingertips. Her lips.
That led her to wonder if his attitude reflected back twelve years when she’d been so young and naive and thrown herself at him. Did he still think she was that girl yearning for attention? That she’d throw herself at him again? Not likely. Besides the fact that her body would repulse him, she knew where she wasn’t wanted.
Anna Leigh Keaton - Risking It All Page 2