Cowboy For Hire

by Isabelle Drake

  Joy split across the boy’s face. “I can’t wait to get to camp and put up our tents, even sleeping outside can’t be better than this real cowboy trail ride. Are we going to cook over an open fire and eat real cowboy food like beans and coffee?” Stretching forward and patting Cassie’s stout neck, he continued with, “This is a great pony. Will I get to ride it again tomorrow on the way back?”

  Why wasn’t the boy complaining to his parents? Any normal child would’ve been whining about the penetrating heat and constant jarring movement of the horse an hour ago. Instead of complaining, Collin and his older brother John kept asking questions about the hawks and admiring way the dust and dirt of the desert blended into the mountainside.

  Lang offered the boys a halfhearted smile, answered another the slew of questions then shifted to the right. A weak light of satisfaction flickered through him. Ever since Miss Honey Kalchik had given up flirting with him about forty minutes ago, she’d been sporting a consistent frown and offering complaints to anyone who’d listen. Unfortunately, none of the other guests shared her disgruntled attitude.

  Mr. Byrd waved to Lang. “Will we have time to make it to the top of this hill? I’d love to get some pictures before the sun sets.”

  “Up there?” Mrs. Feazel pointed to the steep mountain he and Victoria had ridden up the day before. “The view must be fantastic, we’ll be able to see for miles.”

  Little Collin and John punched their fists in the air and cheered.

  With a groan of disgust, Lang whirled Prickly Pear around, squeezed the horse’s flank and trotted past the other riders. “What do you think Victoria? Can you handle another forty-five minutes?”

  She checked her watch, scanning the group. The only person who wasn’t admiring the clumps of cactuses or the band of clouds stretching across the horizon was Honey Kalchik and she was staring straight at him. A deep, hungry stare, like she was imaging him wearing only a tie like one of those Chippendale dancers. That hungry expression in her eyes had nothing to do with the camp cookout Victoria had promised.

  “Overall, we’re doing pretty good. If we follow that trail up to the high point, we can set up camp along that ridge where we…” Her words trailed off in the dusky evening air, the memory they evoked didn’t.

  As if he needed a reminder of the weight of her breasts in his hands, the urgent way she arched her back when he’d taken her nipple into his mouth. The sweet pressure of his hips pressing into his groin.

  “Forty-five more minutes of this?”

  Lang pulled his gaze from the mountainside, reminding himself he was surrounded by people.

  Somehow Honey Kalchik had maneuvered her horse so that it stood nose to nose with Prickly Pear. “I’ll never make it up that hill,” she whined.

  Mrs. Byrd’s gaze darted between Victoria and Honey. “You’ll be fine, Miss Kalchik. We’ll take it easy for you.”

  Victoria leaned forward and offered encouragement but Honey scowled, turning a not-at-all-innocent smile his way. “Could you take me back to the ranch Lang? I can’t possibly make it up that hill and climbing into a nice, soft bed sounds so much better than crawling into a stiff sleeping bag.”

  “But Miss Honey, it’s gotta be pretty far all the way back to the ranch. Wouldn’t you rather just go up the hill? Once we get up there we’ll get to sleep outside. Under the stars—like real cowboys.”

  Collin had a point, it was going to be a long ride back to the ranch but Honey wasn’t buying. She managed to pout and frown at the same time, all the while sticking her chest out and wiggling.

  “Could you take her back, Lang?” Victoria asked. “So the rest of the guests won’t be disappointed. Please.”

  The happiness on the Feazel boys’ faces was fading fast. One word from him and everyone’s smiles would evaporate like dew drops on a cactus. His trail ride from hell hadn’t worked out the way he planned so far, now he had a second chance to send the guests’ enthusiasm down in flames.

  He looked around at the group.

  Who was he kidding?

  If he said no, Mr. Feazel and Mr. Byrd would probably volunteer to carry Honey up the mountain on their backs so they could continue the ride. And she’d probably end up liking it.

  He shrugged, nodding with defeat.

  Honey shimmed in the saddle as she sighed. “Oh, thank you, Lang. You’re just the man I need.”

  Lang avoided Victoria’s gaze as he spun Prickly Pear away from the guests and started back to the ranch with Honey right by his side.

  —

  By the time Lang peeled Miss Honey off him and reached the campsite, most of the guests were bedded down for the night. Only Victoria and the Byrds sat by the campfire, talking softly and staring at the thin wisps of smoke trailing into the black sky.

  Instead of greeting them, he pulled off Prickly Pear’s saddle and led the animal down to the stream for a drink.

  Darkness surrounded him when he got to the water. Alone. It was exactly what he’d wanted and it was what waited for him down the road. That suited him fine. That constant ache Victoria gave him was worse than a bad tooth and harder to cure.

  When he’d left his hometown, being separated from everyone he knew and everything he’d ever cared about seemed like the only answer to the despair that chased him. Now his future loomed ahead even more dull than his past.

  The sounds of the night echoed and mocked his restlessness. After Prickly Pear dropped to drink, he moved to a low spot, bent to splash his face.

  The cool stream water did little to ease the heat of the day that lingered in his heart and pounded through his veins. Relief would be a long time coming. He splashed his cheeks again and then rested his wet hands on his thighs, staring down at the glimmering water rushing by.

  He had to forget about Victoria, the ranch. The Circle Cat was her place, she belonged there. Not him.

  Prickly Pear nudged him, making him realize he’d been squatted by the stream for several minutes. “Okay, let’s go find the others. I know you’re tired.”

  Cassie nickered as they approached.

  “For such a small thing you sure have a lot to say.”

  Lang scratched Cassie’s neck, got Prickly Pear settled, then approached the campfire. Low embers glowed in the night, nobody was in sight. He dropped onto a smooth patch of dirt, leaned against a boulder. A sigh of relief rolled out of him. The rock was warm from the flames and eased some of the strain of being in the saddle all day.

  Victoria had done what she’d set out to do. He’d been wasting his time trying to get the ranch from her.

  She’d proven herself time and again and stolen his heart in the process. Leaving tomorrow would be damn hard but he’d be getting out while the getting was good. He had a shred of pride and some sizzling memories to keep him company during the lonesome nights headed his way.

  He had to admit, Victoria was different from Lori Anne. Sure, she’d come from a wealthy background but she wasn’t spoiled or lazy. She didn’t expect things to fall in her lap.

  Every time he’d cooked up a new idea to send her packing, she’d come back harder and more determined than ever. That sassy spark in her eyes—he’d miss that. Along with everything else about her.

  Even though she’d asked him to stay, she’d also made it clear her plans didn’t really include him. Just what he had to offer for the moment. And he wasn’t stupid enough to think she’d change anytime soon. He might as well spend eternity kicking dirt clods and spitting tobacco juice.

  Lang turned away from the campfire’s low flames but couldn’t get away from the images of Victoria flashing through his mind. Not just the hot ones, like her hosing down the horses in the damn wet t-shirt, but also the every day images, like her feeding those peeping chicks. Thing was, to him she was sexy no matter what she was doing. And he wanted her more and more every time he looked at her. But on his terms, not hers.

  “Lang?”

  Victoria’s voice barely got through the lust he was trying so hard to
pen in.

  “Lang?” She stepped closer, her hair sweeping back from the breeze. “I was worried. I set up your tent…”

  She knelt beside him, grabbing his forearm. “What is it? Is something wrong with Hank? Did we overwork the horses? Did you get Honey back to the ranch okay?”

  He raised one hand to trace the worried curve of her eyebrows. Sometime between the time he touched the fine arches and the second he looked into her eyes, the air between them thickened and pulled him in.

  He reached out and grabbed her, slamming her generous body against his hard, weary muscles, then tucked her neatly into his lap. She fitted perfectly. “Everything is fine,” he replied, nuzzling her neck. “Hank was on the porch, listening to baseball and feeding Promise cookies, all the horses are settled for the night and Miss Honey Kalchik… Well, she’s not happy but I did get her back to the ranch okay.”

  Victoria relaxed but her fist was still holding a wad of his shirt. The sight made him chuckle.

  From under her thick lashes, she looked at him with suspicious eyes. “You laugh at the strangest times.”

  “I was thinking how delicate your fingers look,” he answered, then kissed her knuckles.

  “That’s funny?”

  He wrapped one arm around her shoulders. “When you consider I’ve seen you haul wood like a lumberjack and swing a hammer like a professional.”

  Half of her mouth curved up. “I always liked to work beside my father. Even when I was a little kid. My sister used to tease me about being covered with bruises and sawdust.”

  Images of her determined efforts flashed through his mind. “I’ve never known a woman like you. One who tries as hard as you, who’s willing to work for what she wants and I…”

  He realized in an instant how true the statement was. And how dangerous the words he hadn’t said out loud were.

  “Hard work?” She shrugged, not catching on to what he’d been about to say. “It’s no big deal.”

  “Not many people have the determination to keep going when things get hard. Especially people like you, who don’t really have to.”

  “People like me?” She shifted back, pushing his arm off her shoulders.

  “I don’t mean that in a negative way, Victoria.” Why couldn’t he shut up for once? He should’ve been glad for the distance his comment put between them, instead of offering an off-handed apology.

  She studied him, honest pleasure bringing light to her face as she realized what he’d actually been getting at. “You’ve changed your mind about me being a useless, spoiled, rich girl?”

  Admitting that was going to put him in tricky territory and that was place he didn’t want to go. He needed solid dependable ground. Not some swampland that was going to trick him into taking another step so it could swallow him whole so he tiptoed around the truth. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Victoria got to her feet.

  Lang’s attitude was flickering more than the flames in the campfire. Did he respect her? Did he care about her or not? Not knowing would be worse than getting an answer she didn’t want.

  He interrupted her thoughts, “You didn’t care what I thought when I got here.”

  Their gazes merged when she spun but he turned away, looking very much like he wished he hadn’t spoken.

  She was losing patience with his keep-it-bottled-up method of living. Too many questions tripped through her and she wanted answers.

  Would every man she pursued make her feel like this? Shivering beneath the desert sun and melting into the sheets during the cool nights, desperate for her next breath but thrilled to be alive?

  Or did she and Lang have some special, unique connection?

  How was she ever going to find out if he kept pulling back?

  Shoving her shoulders back and rallying her confidence, she reminded herself she’d gotten this far with him, she’d get answers whether he wanted to deliver them or not. “Things have changed since then.”

  Arching back and crossing his arms behind his head, he eyed her slyly. “You aren’t out for a good time anymore?”

  That again?

  What did that have to do with anything? Why couldn’t he stick to the conversation?

  There had to be a way to provoke him into telling her—or better yet, showing her—how he felt for her.

  If he felt for her.

  Tipping her head casually and starting her approach slowly, she said, “You didn’t think much of the ranch when you first got here, look how everything turned out. I did exactly what I said I was going to do, get the place up and running and filled with guests.

  “I don’t see why you keep implying that the only thing I’m interested in is a ‘good time’. If that was the case, you can be sure I would’ve already had one, done that, I mean.” With a glance down her nose, she added, “But maybe, just because you seem to think it’s so gosh darn important, I’ll move it to the top of my to-do list. Once you’re out of here I won’t have any trouble finding some other cowboy to take your place. Maybe I’ll start by going back to that auction lot and—”

  “Victoria, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” He leapt up, planting himself in front of her, his legs bracketing hers. The heat of his body poured over her, even though his hands stayed at his sides. Naked longing flickered in his eyes.

  He wanted her, physically.

  But was that all?

  “Stop talking like that.” The rasp of his voice made her turn liquid with want. “Because you’re not that kind of girl.”

  Oh but with him right there, his heat caressing her body, she felt like that kind. “How would you know?” she taunted with a rough whisper.

  “I know, that’s all,” he growled, his gaze taking in all of her at once, as though he hoped to find proof on her feverish skin.

  Leaning in, brushing her breasts against him until her nipples pebbled, she said, “You don’t know everything, Lang Thompson.”

  Possessively, he set his hands on her waist and curved his fingers tightly around her hipbones. “Promise me you’ll forget that stuff about adventures and one-night stands. Stay away from that auction lot. Be happy running the ranch, taking care of the guests.”

  His constant mixed signals were making her crazy. “I’m not promising anything. You—”

  The kiss started out strong and hard, then softened as the rough pads of his thumbs caressed the flushed skin of her neck, skimmed across her jaw. Strength drained from Victoria’s legs, she sagged against him, craving his power and virility.

  Wanting him.

  The firm grip of his hands, the tender but determined way his mouth moved across hers and distinct smell of his skin—it was all so right, so perfect. She rose up, curving her arms around his neck, pulling herself to him. Her breasts, soft and yielding, pressed into the solid lines of his chest.

  A sigh of sheer pleasure drifted out of her throat.

  Lang jerked back, letting her go. “See? I told you, you’re not that kind of girl.”

  Victoria stumbled, staring at him, wide-eyed and aching. “Are you kidding? That was fantastic.”

  His thirsty gaze poured across her, he muttered, “What would you know?”

  Her breath was shallow, her heart pounding in her chest. “Enough to know what I want.”

  “And what’s that?” he asked, his arms hanging ready at his sides, as though if she said just the right thing he’d grab her again, kissing her soundly and making her whole.

  And with that realization, she knew exactly what she wanted.

  Him.

  Falling hard for a man with his emotions under lock and key hadn’t been part of her plan but Victoria was learning to take opportunities where they existed. If Lang would give her one night of passion, if that was all she could get, she’d take it.

  The moment was there, all she had to do was reach out and grab it. With both hands.

  Victoria swayed toward him, then stalled when she saw something in his ga
ze.

  Uncertainty?

  How could that be?

  She’d never been more certain about anything in her life. But she wasn’t desperate and she didn’t have to take whatever she could get. When she gave herself to a man, he would know too, that they were a perfect match, even if only for that moment in time.

  “I already told you what I want,” she whispered, reaching for his shoulders. “Success. On my own. And excitement. Also,” she ran her hands down his arms, let go when his fingers brushed his wrists, “on my terms.”

  The words tugged between them, impossibly pulling them together yet pushing them apart at the same time.

  “Right now, I want you, Lang.” She reached for him again but he grabbed her first, hauling her away from the open campsite, over rocks and jumping fallen branches. She trailed willingly beside him, deeper into the night, leaving any hesitation or regrets behind and bringing dizzy expectation along.

  After pausing by the horses long enough to snatch a saddle blanket, he tugged her along until digging his heels in by the secluded bank of the river.

  “You sure about this?” he asked between ragged breaths, dropping the blanket at his feet.

  Her body throbbed with sexual heat. “Absolutely.”

  One hundred percent.

  The single word was all he needed. In a flash he had her off her wobbly legs, onto the ground.

  The hard curve of his collarbone, the warm strength of his stomach, the solid, tight bend of his arms, she mewled in frustration because she couldn’t touch him everywhere at once.

  He responded with soft, soothing sounds. The deep, male rumble in his chest only made her quivers tighter and more needy.

  “Lift your shoulders, Victoria.”

  Sensations, wild and intense, coursed through her when his hands slipped her t-shirt over her head.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, running a trail of kisses down her neck, sweeping his hands down her back. “Your skin, your smell…”

  He went to work on her bra hook, never taking his mouth from her skin, marking her as his.

  With a sharp tug, he slipped down her bra straps, tossed the scrap of lace carelessly onto the ground. He paused, gazing at her bare skin, glowing under the moonlight, then pushed one breast up and tasted the tight tip.