Changing Fate (Book 3) (Piper Anderson Series)

by Danielle Stewart

  Regaining some of her composure, she brought her delicate hands down, stood, squared her shoulders, and met his eyes—knocking all coherent thought clear out of his head. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that gas station attendant. I was just so happy that he’d heard of the place.” Her color was back to normal, but her voice was a bit strained. “Does Texas have a lot of ranches named Double C?”

  “Appears we have at least two,” he said and this time he could not restrain the lusty grin that spread across his face. She was as adorable as she was sexy—a disconcerting combination. Had she turned up the heat and come on to him, he would have lost interest—well, after sampling whatever she’d offered.

  Apparently a man could only go so long without sex before he lost his damn mind because she hadn’t shown the least bit of interest in him. Truth be told, as the enormity of the situation sunk in, she wasn’t paying very much attention to him at all.

  “I can’t believe I did this . . .” A look of self-disgust crossed her delicate features. “Oh, my God. My brother will never let me live this down. Only I would drive all this way to the wrong ranch.”

  She paused and her eyes widened. “The wrong ranch.” Repeating the words slowly with new emphasis. She retightened the top of her towel with hands that shook a little. “I should get dressed.”

  Even though the towel concealed more than shorts and a tank top would have, knowledge of what lay beneath . . . or rather, of what didn’t, was torturing him. He’d managed to clear his head of images of her, writhing with pleasure beneath him, but they were clamoring to return. It was time to make a hasty exit while he still had the mind to. Mustering a nod, he stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

  Too soon, she was with him again. No makeup. No shoes. A simple flowered, sleeveless blouse and pair of tan shorts, which were likely considered a modest mid-thigh length, still drove him damn near crazy. He wanted to run a hand up one of her long legs to test if they were, in truth, as soft as they appeared.

  She rushed by him and disappeared into the living room. He followed, aroused but trying to remain irritated by the presence of a stranger in his home.

  She has to go.

  “I really am sorry about this,” she burst out with her rapid-fire northern accent. “You probably think I’m crazy. I guess I am.” She paced back and forth in front of him, a barefoot beauty. “I knew I should have bought a map.” She waved her cellphone in the air. “It worked the rest of the way down here, but not when it really mattered.”

  Leaning against the door jam, he felt the stirring of something even more worrisome than lust. A tickle of adrenaline licked through his veins as his high-energy intruder came to a stop in front of him. It had been years since anything had made his heart race and his breath catch in his throat. Something about this woman pulled at a part of him he’d considered long dead.

  Appearing oblivious to how close he was to hauling her to him and tasting those tempting, pursed lips, Sarah said, “I’ll get my stuff and be out of here before I cause any trouble.”

  “Trouble?” Dammit, now why didn’t I simply agree?

  She turned away, bent and gave him a delightful view of her never-ending legs as her shorts rose up. She didn’t seem to notice, just kept rummaging through her luggage. “With your girlfriend or wife or whatever.”

  “No trouble,” he drawled. Crazy must be catching because he was having difficulty reconciling what he knew he should say with the damn fool things coming out of his mouth.

  “There they are,” she exclaimed happily and pulled out the most impractical pair of boots he’d ever seen: knee-high, polished leather with ridiculously spindly heels and some sort of strap across the top. She held them up next to one leg. “I bought these special for this trip. Do they match?”

  Who the hell cares? No man would ever ask her to take them off. No, those were the kind that stayed on all night.

  She sat on the couch as she pulled them on. Her big brown eyes studied him intensely. He’d bought horses with less of a perusal than she was giving him. He wished he had taken the time to shave that morning. His plaid shirt was covered with dust and sweat from working in the heat of the afternoon. The old jeans he’d thrown on without a second thought that morning were layered with grass stains. Not much to look at.

  “Could I bother you for one more thing?” Her voice was huskier than before. “May I use your phone?” She held up her cellphone. “This thing is useless here and my friends must be worried by now. They expected me hours ago.”

  He nodded, not trusting himself to answer. The way she continued to look him over . . . slowly . . . from head to foot had him fumbling for sanity. He pointed to the land phone on the small table in the corner of the room and wordlessly watched her walk to it.

  Damn.

  “There’s still no answer.” She waved the handset helplessly in the direction of her distant friends. “I guess I should just head over there and wait till they get home.”

  “Are you sure you can find the place?” he asked without missing a beat, surprising himself.

  Replacing the receiver, Sarah’s eyes narrowed at him even as her dimples revealed her good humor at his teasing. “A cowboy and a comedian?”

  Tony shrugged. “Can’t say I’ve ever been accused of being funny before.” He’d never had much to laugh about and didn’t see any merit in acting the clown since the world was full of those who took to idiocy naturally.

  Her expression softened. “Well, you should try it more often, it suits you.”

  The compliment jolted him like a brush with electric fencing. Tony retreated a step and almost fell when the back of his boot met her suitcase.

  She advanced and reached to steady him but he stepped back again, evading her touch.

  The sound of the front door opening had never been so welcome. Women make men stupid. Plain and simple. Wasn’t that what his father had always said? He didn’t need more proof than practically falling on his ass because a woman half his size had complimented him.

  The shuffle of boots across the wooden floor announced someone’s intention of joining them. Melanie. Her presence wasn’t a surprise. As his housekeeper, she used his kitchen on a daily basis to prepare meals for him. Normally, however, she was better at minding her own business.

  Yep, she was fixing to break the one rule he’d laid down the day he’d hired her and, for a reason he wasn’t comfortable exploring, he wasn’t prepared to correct her in front of Sarah.

  She came to a stop at the doorway. “You have company? Do you need anything?” She looked over as she spoke and for a moment the two women simply stared at each other.

  A man would have been hard-pressed to say if these two women could get along. Life hadn’t been kind to Melanie and she’d spent almost as much time hiding on his secluded ranch as he had. Although she was likely only a few years older than Sarah, they couldn’t have been more different. If the two were cats, Sarah would be the fluffy white, pampered, city-type that would likely run at the first sign of a rodent. Melanie was a brown, bad-tempered, barn cat: useful to have, but better kept outside.

  Not that she ever showed her temper around him, no one did and stayed.

  He was still debating how to get both out of his house, when Sarah stepped forward with the huge, welcoming smile he’d seen on her face when she’d thought he was her friend’s brother.

  She took Melanie’s hand in hers and shook energetically. “Hi, my name’s Sarah.”

  Melanie pulled her hand free. Did he imagine the hiss? Careful, Sarah. Feral cats aren’t real good when cornered. He figured he could intervene before things got ugly, but most creatures got along better if you let them sort it out for themselves.

  Sarah’s smile didn’t dim as she waited for the other woman to speak.

  “Melanie,” his dark-haired housekeeper said curtly.

  In the high speed way she spoke, Sarah said, “I can only imagine what you must be thinking, but this is much more ridiculous and innoc
ent than it looks.” She took her phone out of her back pocket and waved it between them. “I mean who knew it wouldn’t work out here, right?” She looked over her shoulder at Tony and said, “Your husband was just letting me use your phone.” Then she flushed a delightful shade of pink. “Okay, your shower, too, but he didn’t let me use that. I mean, I did use it, but that was before I knew you would both be here. Which, you should be, because it’s your house. So why wouldn’t you be here? I’m the one who shouldn’t be here. And I’m actually just leaving.”

  Melanie, who’d simply stared at Sarah during the overflowing river of speech, raised her eyebrows and stated succinctly, “I’m not his wife.”

  “Whew,” Sarah said with a laugh, then stopped and looked at both of them again. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. If you’re his girlfriend or whatever, I’m cool with that. It was just that—whoa, explaining this to a wife would be so much worse. Not that anything happened.” Sarah closed her eyes briefly as if the thought pained her and then continued earnestly, “Unless you count that he saw me naked, and that totally wasn’t his fault.”

  Melanie said blandly, “I work here.”

  “Oh, I thought . . .”

  “No,” Melanie and Tony said in unison.

  Another blush spread across Sarah’s cheeks. The quick look she gave Tony sent his heart racing and his thoughts scattering.

  “Sarah isn’t staying,” he said gruffly. “As soon as she locates her friends, she’s leaving.”

  Sarah deflated a bit at his harsh declaration. “Yes, in fact, they should be there now. I should head out.”

  I’ll probably regret this. “Melanie, make a second plate for dinner. Sarah and I will eat in the dining room.”

  Hard to say which woman he’d shocked more. Sarah looked back and forth between them as if seeking a reassurance. “I am hungry. If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble?”

  Melanie didn’t say a word, but she didn’t have to. In fact, he preferred she didn’t. He wasn’t ready to explain to anyone, not even himself, why he was reluctant to see Sarah leave.

  It was more than how his body responded to hers. He wanted . . .

  He wasn’t sure what exactly.

  Was it because she had no idea who he was? She was neither intimidated by his reputation nor excited by the idea of being with a man many considered dangerous. No, she looked at him like there wasn’t a reason in the world why they couldn’t be friends . . . or more.

  Tony had been alone so long that he’d begun to believe he preferred it that way. In the beginning it had been easier, and over time it had become comfortable. Tonight he didn’t want to be a man with a past he regretted. He didn’t want to be angry. He wanted to have an uncomplicated dinner with a beautiful woman. Knowing she was leaving after their meal made it much easier to allow himself to enjoy it.

  Melanie had just finished setting two places at one end of his dining room table when he and Sarah entered the room. No one would have guessed this was the first time anyone had sat there in the five years he’d owned the place. He preferred the solitude of the small kitchen table. He wasn’t about to mention it though––women would falsely read meaning into something like that.

  Chapter Two

  Standing in the doorway of the dining room, Sarah wished life had a pause button. She wanted to slow time and savor each moment of this. Another woman might have been afraid, but the joy of the unexpected was the reason Sarah often chose riding the trails instead of remaining in the ring at the barn she belonged to. Outside of the riding ring she was free and anything was possible.

  This wasn’t how my trip was supposed to go, but look at me, standing next to a real cowboy—one with a shy smile and a slow, southern drawl. He belongs in a book. He was in his late twenties or early thirties, but the rugged lines of his face spoke of years of hard work and his callused hands held a powerful promise she’d never imagined in the manicured, smooth texture of the city men she was used to.

  He even smells like the outdoors.

  How strange would I look if I took out my notebook and jotted down all the things I don’t want to forget about him? I’d start with those muscles. Those heavenly muscles. Unlike the hulking men who strutted like peacocks at her local gym, this man had the understated, quiet strength that Sarah found a million times sexier. He earned those delicious biceps and that rock-hard body in a way that wouldn’t have diminished the size of his . . .

  In the middle of an appreciative sigh, Sarah realized her gaze had followed her thoughts in a less than subtle ogling of his lower assets. She looked up quickly, her face heating with a blush, when she met his eyes. Quick. Say something. “I like your . . . uh . . . jeans.”

  Who the hell says that?

  “Pardon the dust.” He brushed his hand down one thigh, a move that sent responding flicks of heat through Sarah. There it was again, that almost smile. “I usually shower when I get home, but it was already occupied.”

  You could have joined me, Sarah thought, smiling, surprised at herself. Oh, my God, I’m smiling like some street lunatic. Don’t look guilty; look away or he’ll know what you were thinking. She met his eyes and the heat that flew between them made her start considering all sorts of impulsive things—many of which included the removal of some or all of their clothing.

  Sarah gulped.

  Okay, this is not a good idea. I don’t know this man.

  But I’d like to.

  Oh, how I’d like to.

  Stop, that! She chastised her raging libido. This summer is about breaking free, living, finding my writer’s voice––not about having a one-night stand just because my sense of direction sucks.

  She sought sanity by turning her attention to the table. The very long, very sturdy table. What would it be like to push the plates aside and . . .

  A huge smile spread across her face as images of them entwined passionately elicited another thought. I have a naughty side.

  Me.

  Who knew? All I needed was the right inspiration!

  Tony moved to stand behind one of the chairs and held it out for her to sit on. When she sat, he pushed it in with more force than she’d expected and she gasped. He took the seat across from her, but looked far from happy about it, making her wonder if their attraction was indeed mutual.

  Sarah had never considered herself a beauty, nor was she used to men glowering at her like she was an . . . uninvited guest? I’m such an idiot. He’s feeding me out of pity. This isn’t a date. No amount of leering at him will change that. Sarah groaned, pushed her seat back, and stood. “I should go.”

  “Sit,” he said in an authoritative voice she was sure moved most people to obedience.

  At first glance, she’d thought his eyes were hazel, but in the dim dining room lighting they were a deeper green. The air thickened with tension. Heart pounding in her chest, Sarah stood immobile, like prey frozen in a field.

  What would it be like to be with a real man? One who wouldn’t fumble with a bra strap or ask you if you really wanted to do it so many times you began to ask yourself the same question. No, Tony would take what he wanted.

  She shivered with pleasure at the thought.

  Taken.

  Now that would be something to write about.

  “Sit,” he ordered again, more softly, and Sarah did so only because her knees gave out beneath her. He could ask me for almost anything in that tone and I wouldn’t refuse.

  I should leave now.

  He could dangerous.

  Or he could be the best mistake I’ve ever made.

  The sound of Melanie organizing plates in the adjoining room shook Sarah free of her hormonal stupor. She said the first thing that came to her mind. “I saw your horses. They’re beautiful. How many do you have?” She wasn’t sure he was going to answer her at first. If the harsh set of Tony’s jaw was anything to go by, he was enjoying their time together much less than she was.

  “Depends on the season,” he answered vaguely.

/>   “And they’re all quarter horses?” Is it wrong to ask questions just so I can hear his knee-melting drawl again?

  “Most of ’em.”

  Melanie placed two glasses of lemonade between them.

  Sarah thanked her and took a long sip of her lemonade, half closing her eyes as she enjoyed the refreshing coolness of it. When she opened them, Tony was watching her intently, looking even less happy, if that were possible.

  It made her nervous, and when she was nervous she tended to ramble. “Did you see Scooter outside?” she asked, but continued without waiting for him to answer her. “I put him in a paddock because it was too hot to leave him in the trailer. I hope that was okay. I thought I was at Lucy’s place when I did it.”

  “Are you married?” His voice broke through her monologue like a bolt of lightning.

  “No,” she said quickly, her mouth working faster than her brain. “I’m single. Totally single.” She grabbed a napkin and practically shoved it in her mouth to stop the flow of words. Could I be more obvious?

  Think.

  Think of something cool to say.

  Nothing came to mind.

  Melanie returned with generous platters of steak and vegetables, explaining she would be back in the morning to clean up. The click of the outside door announced her departure and echoed through the quiet house. They ate in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

  “I don’t usually do this,” Sarah blurted out. “Not that we’re doing anything more than eating and, of course, I do that on a regular basis. Eat, I mean. I just don’t . . .”

  “Do more than dinner?” he asked, his expression unreadable as he laid his fork down beside his plate.

  She nodded. “Yes, that part. I don’t want you to think because you saw me in a towel . . .”

  The corners of his eyes crinkled with humor.

  Oh, God, he’s laughing. My fantasy cowboy is laughing at me.

  Embarrassed, she threw her napkin at him. “It’s not funny.”

  A slow smile spread across his face. “It is, actually.”