Jessica reached over and forcibly removed Natalie’s hands from the bleachers she was clutching as if it were a lifeline. “He’s fine, Natalie. Just give him a chance. He’s a very good rider.”
Natalie nodded, her attention completely on Marco. It was strange. She’d only met him a few days ago and already she felt a kind of protectiveness about him and his safety. Marco nodded and the chute swung open. Marco moved fluently with the bull, his free hand high and away from his body, which Natalie knew would earn him extra points. She didn’t dare chance a glance at the time, but knew he must be getting close to the required eight seconds.
Then the bull spun and Marco was thrown off, landing almost ten feet to the side before rolling and jumping onto the rail as the bullfighters did their job to distract and corral the bull. Natalie could see even from where she was sitting how angry he was, and when she looked at the time, she knew why. He’d lasted 7.2 seconds, just shy of the eight seconds he needed to get a score.
Undoubtedly he would’ve gotten a decent score at the very least and she knew he must be fuming. Marco climbed over the rail where the other riders were waiting for him and began gesticulating back toward the arena. It looked as if he was doing play-by-play and asking the other riders what had gone wrong. Conner put a hand on his shoulder and shrugged. Marco nodded curtly and then spun away from the crowd, heading for the riders’ preparation area.
“Should I go after him?”
Jessica shook her head. “Let him cool off first.”
“Are you sure? I mean—”
“Trust me. Let him swear and throw stuff around and then you can call him and see if he needs you. Don’t force yourself on him.” She smiled a little as she undoubtedly recognized the double entendre. “Scratch that. Sex after being bucked goes a long way toward improving a cowboy’s mood.” She waggled her eyebrows at Natalie, who couldn’t help but laugh.
“How did you know?”
“Oh, honey, it’s written all over both of your faces.” Jessica grinned. “Reminds me of Conner and I in the beginning.”
Natalie scoffed. “And not now? I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
“Well, yeah. But now we know what we are to each other. We’re married and settling down. You and Marco are still learning and you’re in that first blush of attraction. God, I thought Conner was going to singe me from the inside out.”
Natalie forced a smile, but her thoughts told a different story. She wanted that with someone, someday. But first she had to figure out who she was and where she was going in life. It wouldn’t be fair to bring anyone else along for that inevitably bumpy ride.
Conner’s turn came quickly and Jessica clapped and whooped when he stayed on his bull. Natalie joined in and Conner tipped his hat to the two of them once he’d reached safety. They stayed in their seats to watch the rest of the riders, Jessica continuing to give her the golden nuggets of information that Natalie hoped would give her the edge she needed to make the tour.
“Hey, do you mind if we sit together at the other events? I’m going to be on tour for another couple of weeks. It’s nice to know someone, especially a person who’s chock full of knowledge.”
Jessica turned to her and grinned. “Chock full of knowledge? I have to be sure to tell Conner you said that. He thinks I’m a know-it-all.”
“Seriously, this has been so helpful. Thank you.”
“No problem. I had fun.” She rose as the crowd began to disperse. “Wanna go watch the draft?”
“Oh my God, yes!”
Jessica giggled and Natalie followed her through an area normal patrons couldn’t get to until they came to a large room, where several riders, including the top ones from the first group that night and the entire second group, were congregated. Natalie hung back at first, not sure how Marco would want to handle things, but he motioned to her and she walked into his arms, giving him a quick kiss before settling back to watch the proceedings.
Marco was unquestionably competitive and intense, but Natalie liked that he didn’t seem to let one bad night get him down or make him surly. A few of the other riders who’d gotten bucked in the last group were brooding as they waited their turn to draft, but Marco smiled and laughed with Conner and Garret until his turn came. Then he turned serious, looked over the offerings and made his selection. Conner’s eyebrows shot up.
“He’s a rank one, bud.”
“I know. I need a good score tomorrow night though.”
“I haven’t ridden him successfully yet,” Garret put in, “and I’ve been on his back three times. Good luck, man, you’re gonna need it.”
Conner and Brady and Garret chose their bulls and the crowd dispersed. Marco turned to her. “I want some good Italian food and wine to offset the horrid night I had. I know of a good place, but I’m told it’s about thirty-five minutes by taxi. Are you up for the journey or would you prefer to return to the hotel? They serve until midnight.”
Natalie shrugged. “I’m fine if you want to go.”
“You won’t be sorry,” Marco answered with a boyish grin. “Wait until you try a really good Italian wine. I bet I can find a Montepulciano you’ll love.”
Since Natalie’s main experience with wine came out of a box, she figured he was right, and found herself looking forward to the experience. She felt a twinge of guilt about letting him pay for another expensive meal, especially now that she knew about his problems with his family, but if he wanted to drown his sorrows at the bottom of a wineglass she was in no position to stop him.
Marco hailed a cab and gave the driver the address. The man pulled away from the arena and Marco slid his arm around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. He started out playful, nipping at her with little bites, but took it deeper, licking at her lips until she opened fully to him. She tilted her head to get a better angle and their tongues danced around each other in a primitive waltz.
She broke away first, panting. Chancing a glance up front, she saw that unless the cab driver was very good at appearing to ignore them, he actually was ignoring them. She couldn’t believe they’d gotten so carried away they were making out in the back of a cab as if they were two teenagers. Marco leaned over and whispered, low enough that only she could hear, “He’s seen it all before, and probably much more. Do not worry.”
Ducking her head, she fought the inevitable blush creeping over her skin. There were many times lately that she cursed her pale coloring and how easy it was to make her blush, but Marco just chuckled and put his free hand on her thigh.
“Hey! Behave.”
“What fun is that?”
She was wearing jeans, so he couldn’t get far, but he kept the hand there nonetheless, kissing her again and successfully making her forget about everything but this moment. It was amazing, and more than a little frightening, how he was able to center her on a brief slice of time, where all her problems, all her fears and all her insecurities melted in the onslaught of passion she felt when he touched her. Natalie shivered.
“Are you cold, cara?”
“Not really. Just one of those weird things.” Where I think about you touching me and get all gooey.
“You and Jessica looked as if you were having fun.”
Natalie turned to him with a grin. “She is awesome. I mean, I know she worked for the tour for a while but I had no idea she was like an encyclopedia of bull riding. I learned so much from her in just one night. I asked her if I could sit with her at the other events. She seemed happy to have the company.”
Marco nodded. “Yeah, unless Brady’s girlfriend Leah is in town she’s usually alone in the stands.”
“Does Leah visit often? I’d love to meet her.”
“Yes, pretty often. She’s a beautiful skater, isn’t she?”
“And a beautiful woman, too.” She raised an eyebrow and Marco tried to look innocent without much success.
“It’s my heritage, cara, I notice beauty.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Look at how quickly I noticed you in the stan
ds.”
“You’re changing the subject. Is there something I should know about?”
“Brady might tell you something different, but no. I do not go after other men’s women. It’s not honorable. Sure, I may flirt some, but I would never try to steal a woman away from another man.”
“Good to know,” Natalie murmured. She set her head on Marco’s shoulder and the rest of the ride to the restaurant was spent in companionable silence.
As promised, the meal was fabulous and Natalie had a great time listening to Marco and the owner babble back and forth in Italian. The owner’s wife, who was the main chef, kept bringing them little bites of this or that, long after Natalie was stuffed to the brim. It seemed rude to refuse, though, so she just kept eating.
“If you keep accepting they’ll keep bringing more,” Marco told her when the man finally left the table.
“How do you refuse?”
“Let me.”
When the woman came back the next time, Marco launched into a long discourse in Italian, and even if Natalie couldn’t understand a word he was saying, she knew he was laying it on thick by the way the woman flushed and stammered, then leaned in to pat the side of his face and kiss each cheek, which he returned. He took care of the check quickly and they got into the cab the owner had called for him.
It was late when they left the restaurant, and Marco tucked her into him and told her to relax. Between the wine and the food and how long the day had been, Natalie was asleep in seconds. Marco roused her when they arrived at the hotel, and the two of them trudged up to the room and took care of essentials before climbing into bed.
“I want to make love to you, but you look exhausted. Sleep, and I will ravage you in the morning.”
Natalie smiled lazily, her head already sinking into the luxurious, fluffy pillow. “Okay.”
Marco chuckled. “Good night, amante.”
Chapter Five
Marco’s mood soared the next morning after making good on his promise to ravish Natalie, but the day went downhill from there. Despite looking everywhere, and knowing he had it last night, his riding glove was gone. Disappeared. He had to borrow Paolo’s, and as any bull rider knew, working without your own equipment was always the start of something bad. Bull riders were a notoriously superstitious lot.
The bull he’d drawn could be described as ornery at best and Marco knew his buck-off record was high. Despite that, he needed to ride the bull for the full eight seconds and hope for some bonus points along the way if he was going to finish respectably and not drop too far in the overall rankings.
When it came time to get on the bull’s back, Marco pulled Paolo’s glove on and tried to ignore the feeling of dread stealing over him, leaving him shivering and nervous. One of his favorite parts of bull riding was the adrenaline rush right before, during and after a ride. Tonight, though, the adrenaline was pressing down on his lungs and throat, choking him.
Marco sat on the beast as it flung its head from side to side in the chute, its horns making a racket as they hit the wooden and metal bars on the sides. Saliva and other things Marco preferred not to think about were also flying around the chute as the bull snorted and kicked.
Paolo was near Marco’s side, helping him with the bull rope while Conner and Garret worked from the bull’s head and foot to move him into the proper position.
“Are you sure you want to ride this guy?” Paolo asked, casting a worried glance at the flying hooves and the massive, vibrating body of the bull.
“I drafted him.”
“I know, but—”
“I’ll be fine.” Marco had a sudden urge to scan the crowd for Natalie, but forced himself to keep his focus squarely on the one-ton-plus animal that was already doing its best to throw Marco into next week.
Garret nodded at Marco. “Ready?”
“Ready,” Marco answered, nodding back, and after another nod at the tour official, the gate of the chute swung open and Marco and the bull went careening out. All four of the bull’s hooves left the ground and Marco swore the thing was going to take flight until all that weight came crashing down again right before the bull started spinning to the right. That put pressure on Marco’s riding hand, making it harder to stay atop the bull, but he gritted his teeth and held on.
Then the bull seemed to almost lie on its side as it spun to the left, and Marco knew he was cooked. Luckily his brain reacted in time so he wasn’t just thrown off the animal toward the abyss, but he was still tossed a good distance, landing on his back. The air whooshed out of his lungs, choking him for real now, and he knew he needed to get up and safely away before the damn thing stomped on him, but his world was going black.
One of the bull fighters made it over to him and bodily lifted Marco up onto the rail, holding him there with the weight of his body as his two cohorts distracted the bull and got him out of the pen. Marco gasped for air, still seeing stars.
“You okay, bud?”
Marco nodded. He still couldn’t speak.
He knew he hadn’t stayed on, but hoped he’d at least get a little something for his trouble considering the difficulty rating attached to the bull. At least the damn animal would score highly for him. Marco wouldn’t finish in the money for this event for sure, but since the bulls were bucking even the most experienced riders today with regularity, he hoped his ranking was safe.
It was never a good idea to second-guess yourself, since hesitating during your next ride because you’ve lost your confidence could kill you, but Marco couldn’t help wondering if the bull had simply been too much for him to handle. A man never liked to admit something such as that, but sometimes it was better to admit weakness and stay alive than take a chance on something so risky. Now he understood the other riders’ reactions when he’d chosen that bull the night before.
Marco climbed over the fence slowly after his bull rope had been returned and dropped to his haunches on the other side, coughing and trying to pull air into his lungs despite their objections.
Paolo made it to him first. He began to run his hands over Marco’s arms, which were not protected by the vest all riders were required to wear. “Are you hurt?”
Marco shook his head and then shook off his brother’s hands. It had been several events since he’d gotten bucked off twice in the same competition and he was disgusted not only with that, but also with how the bull had bested him, knocking him on his ass and leaving him fighting to breathe.
Conner and Garret approached. “I thought you had ’im,” Garret said, and Marco looked up to see a mixture of respect and sympathy in the other man’s eyes.
Respect? That was something he didn’t always see from the other riders, many of whom thought he and Paolo were just playboys spending daddy’s money. Maybe some of them were finally turning the corner. This was Marco’s third season on the tour and Paolo’s second. It was about damn time people recognized they were for real.
Marco coughed again and Conner and Paolo helped him up. He felt less than steady, but he’d be damned if he’d let these guys see it. He saw a streak of purple and yellow and then Natalie was in front of him.
“What the hell happened? Are you all right?”
He had no idea why a simple purple t-shirt revved him up so much, but right then, looking at her long blonde hair drawn back in braids and at that purple t-shirt she was wearing made him want to do very dirty things to her. She raised an eyebrow as if she knew the direction of his thoughts and made an impatient motion with her hands.
Marco sighed. “I’m all right.” He removed his vest and Paolo’s glove, handing it back to his brother immediately and hoping he’d either find his or be able to buy a new one at the next event. Picking up his gear bag that Paolo had dropped as he’d skidded over at the end of the ride, Marco began the walk back to the riders’ prep area.
Natalie fell into step with him. “Do you wanna be alone? It seems as if some of the riders just want to blow off some steam when they don’t do well. I can leave you…”
Marco turned and crowded her into the wall next to her. Now his breathing was short for an entirely different reason. “I don’t want to be alone. I want to fuck you.”
“Huh?”
He shrugged. “Like you said, different riders like different things after they have a tough competition. I like having sex.” Marco sent her his best smoldering look and she bit her lip, her knees starting to buckle until he clamped his free hand around her waist.
Natalie glanced around. “We’re creating a spectacle.”
“I don’t care.” He took a deep breath and began to lower his head.
She pushed him away. “I do. I need these guys to talk to me, to treat me as if I’m their equal, not like someone’s Gal Friday.”
“Gal what?”
Natalie laughed then and Marco was pretty sure it was at him, not with him. “Never mind. Anyway, I don’t want people thinking I’m just some blonde buckle bunny you’re slumming with while you’re on the tour. I want them to see me as a serious athlete.”
Marco heard her use “buckle bunny” in reference to herself and drew up to his full height, which was six inches taller than Natalie, and looked at her stormy eyes. Man, that look did nothing to help his straining, throbbing cock. “You are not a buckle bunny.”
“I know that and you know that,” Natalie answered, rolling her eyes. “But they,” she indicated the arena with a broad sweep of her arm, “don’t.”
“If I hear anyone say something such as that about you I will be sure they regret it, cara.”
Natalie’s eyes widened briefly. Good. Apparently she’d understood the deadly tone of his voice. No one called his woman names without hearing about it from him later. Italian men were protective, as well as possessive, of their women, and Marco was no different. He doubted she would appreciate any show of that on his part, though, so he had been trying to play it cool. No more.
“I don’t want you to get into a fight over me.”
“I won’t unless I have to,” Marco promised. “Why don’t you wait here for me and I’ll be back out in a few minutes? We don’t have to hang around if I’m not even going to place.”
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