“It’s fine. I’m an adult, Tony. This is just as much my responsibility as it is yours.”
“It can’t happen again. I don’t want children—ever.”
Ouch. After the initial desire to slap him in the head passed, Sarah tossed back a barb of her own. “Because you’d have to talk to them, right?”
When he didn’t say anything, she dropped her hand and shook her head.
He walked to his pile of clothes and started getting dressed wordlessly. “Bringing you here was a mistake.”
Arms akimbo, Sarah waited for him to turn around. When he did, she stood there, still proudly nude before him. He might be afraid, but I’m not. “I’m not running away from this. I’m choosing life—all of it, the good, the bad, the scary parts. I’m done hiding.”
His face tightened with anger. He growled, “What do you want from me?”
In that desperate question, she heard what kept her heart open to him. She understood his pain and his journey in a way she doubted many others could. Giving up on him was like giving up on herself in a tangled, impossible-to-explain-even-to-herself way. “I want you to tell me whatever it was that made you like this. I want to know you.”
Their eyes clashed across the short distance between them.
When he spoke, his harsh tone was in direct contrast to his words. “Get dressed then, because I doubt we’ll get much talking done with you standing there like that.”
Sarah turned her face to the side and hid a smile behind her hair. Score one for the Yankee. She quickly slipped into her clothing and went to stand next to him, boldly taking his hand in hers.
He turned away and walked out the door, but his hand tightened on hers as he dragged her behind him down the steps and out into the bright late-morning sunshine. They walked together down a rugged path that made Sarah glad she’d chosen to wear sneakers instead of boots. He stopped when they reached a small clearing that boasted a crystal-clear mountain stream.
“This is where I come when I need to think . . . or forget.”
Tony let go of her hand and picked up a rock to throw angrily into the stream. “You know that feeling you get when you first start driving a car on your own? At first you’re nervous, then you get more and more confident until you feel invincible. That’s how I’d describe my career until about five years ago. I came from nothing, you know? No one expected anything from me. I moved out of my father’s house at sixteen. I was working on a cattle ranch when I won a green horse in a poker game. The ranch owner let me keep him at his place and watched me work with him. Pretty soon, he had me training all his horses. I quickly gained a reputation for taking horses from green to champion in everything from racing to the rodeo circuit. People wanted to see what I did, so I booked shows at expos and fairs. Before long, I was getting offers to work with high-profile horses. Some went on to win their owners millions.”
Sarah joined him by the water and simply listened.
“The money came fast and easy after that. Rich people like to win. It made for a very profitable exchange. By the time I was in my early twenties, I was getting jobs all over the world. I could have bought and sold my ranch a hundred times over. Race horses. Barrel racers. The foundation is the same. A willing horse can be taught anything. I’ve always been able to bring a level of trust out in a horse that others couldn’t.”
“Because you care about them,” Sarah said.
“No, because I understand them. I always have. It’s not something I can put into words.”
Sarah wanted to ask more about the topic, to debate his claim not to care, but she was afraid he’d shut down if she did. She let him tell his own story, at his own pace.
“People said there wasn’t a horse I couldn’t gentle, and I started to believe my own press. I met a family with a teenage daughter as headstrong as any animal I’d ever met. She had bought a Canadian warmblood. A seventeen-hand gray stallion with a dangerous reputation and a violent past. There were all sorts of rumors where that horse had been, but whoever had abused him, they hadn’t left a mark. He was stunning and enough of a challenge that he was exciting. I accepted their money and never doubted that I could fix that horse.”
His face whitened as he continued. “I thought I had him ready for her. I was blinded by my own confidence. Something in him was broken in a place I couldn’t reach but I couldn’t see it. I told them he was safe. I told her father she’d be fine. For a while, I was right. Near the end of their first riding season, someone was lunging a horse in the same ring and cracked a whip against it. I don’t know what that stallion had seen or endured, but it came back to him with a vengeance. Those who were there said he went wild. He threw her and, before anyone could stop him, he stomped her to death.”
Tony threw another rock into the water. “I knew he was dangerous, but I thought I was gifted. I’m not. I’m cursed. She was only sixteen.”
Sarah whispered, “What happened after that?”
Tony closed his eyes. “The father took me to court. I hired some fancy lawyer who told me that any apology would be an admittance of guilt and I could go to jail.” He opened his eyes and the depth of his remorse was almost unbearable to witness. “We won the case and the court documents say I wasn’t guilty, but I know the truth. I am guilty, and I never did tell the father that I was sorry.”
Sarah wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tightly. I understand, oh, so much more than you know. It was because of that understanding that she knew there wasn’t anything she could say right then that he’d be able to hear. So she held her tongue and gave him another piece of her heart.
The questions Tony braced himself for didn’t come, and the sincerity of the hug she gave him robbed him of further speech. She wasn’t demanding that he give more, nor was she smothering him with pity. In her embrace, he felt understood and accepted.
And it was more terrifying than any nightmare he’d ever had.
He put an arm around her waist and rested his chin on top of her head, releasing a shaky breath as he did. Outside of initial lawyer consultations and his testimony in court, he’d never spoken of that time in his life. People had thrown accusations his way, both in private and in public, but he’d never defended himself.
There was no defense for what he’d done. He’d been young and cocky. Then young and afraid. If either were a valid excuse, prisons would be less full.
At first he’d tried to weather the character flogging he received in the press. Everywhere he turned there was a reminder of what he’d done, who he’d hurt, what he’d taken from the planet. The news played the story over and over until there wasn’t a person on the street who didn’t stop to talk to him about it. It didn’t matter if they were damning him to hell or excusing what he’d done, each encounter left him feeling raw and filled with a guilt so intense he’d considered taking his own life to even the score.
So he’d bought the Double C and retreated there. Drinking heavily and eating next to nothing, Tony probably wouldn’t have lasted long had David not wandered onto his property. The memory of their initial meeting was muddled by the drunken haze of his first months on the ranch, as were the details of exactly how David had become Tony’s manager. Had David bought the first horses with his own money or Tony’s? He couldn’t remember. They’d just started appearing.
At first David had worked them while Tony continued to binge drink, deliberately ignoring the changes at his own ranch. Eventually boredom, curiosity, or both had driven Tony to watch David train.
Then to work with a horse on his own. Before long, working with the horses replaced drinking, and he and David came to an agreement. Tony didn’t want to meet perspective buyers or hear about the horses after they left his ranch. David could hire whoever he thought necessary to keep the ranch running smoothly, as long as they respected Tony’s privacy and kept their distance from him.
Somewhere along the way, anger replaced fear. Indifference replaced regret. He found peace in the distance he placed between him a
nd those around him.
Peace everywhere except in those fucking dreams.
And now with Sarah.
Nothing in his life had prepared him for the whirlwind of his little blonde intruder. Pushing her away was about as easy as trying to stop high tide with a spoon. She played by her own rules and challenged every one of his.
For the first time in years he felt something besides anger, and part of him hated her for it.
She thinks she can save me. She’s too innocent to understand that some people, like some animals, are damaged beyond redemption.
Hand in hand, they walked back to the cabin. Tony asked, “Do you need anything from inside before we leave?”
Those dark brown eyes searched his face before she nodded. He opened the door, fighting temptation and winning by the merest margin.
Sarah closed the door and pulled her shirt over her head. Her bra followed. His jaw fell open a bit as she stepped out of her shoes and the rest of her clothing. What normally would have been an act of seduction was charged with a different emotion. “I saw a deck of cards in the kitchen. I’ve never played cards naked. Have you?”
He shook his head wordlessly.
“Want to play?”
A man didn’t need to be asked that question twice. Tony stripped bare and, despite his arousal, went to retrieve the deck of cards. They sat across from each other on the rug in the living room. He shuffled the cards and asked, “What do you know?”
She smiled at him and blushed. “I don’t mind learning something new.”
He caught her double meaning, but asked a safer question. “Have you ever played poker?”
“No, but I’ve always felt that I would be good at it. Maybe I was a cardshark in a past life.”
He couldn’t help but return her smile as he dealt. “I didn’t bring much cash with me.” He fished out some dollar bills and change from his jean pocket.
“Let’s play for something more valuable than that.”
He didn’t try to guess what she wanted, because there was really no way of knowing with her. “Such as?”
She sat straighter and crisscrossed her legs, giving him an unbelievably distracting view that sent his blood pounding southward. “Time. Each one of those quarters can be an hour and those dollars could be a day. The winner gets to choose what we do with that time. You could win a few more hours of silence.” The teaser at the end was unnecessary because he’d already lost the ability to do anything but agree to whatever she suggested. When he didn’t respond, she prompted, “I have no idea how to play, though, so you will have to speak.”
She listened intently as he explained the game to her, and he was torn between throwing his cards down and taking her again and again until his fascination with her ebbed and demanding that they end the game now, before it was too late.
Don’t trust me, Sarah.
People don’t change.
I don’t want to be the one to teach you that harsh lesson, but God forgive me, I can’t stay away from you either.
She won six days and three hours from him, which was all the money he’d brought, but he conceded to himself that his attention had been divided. He expected her to gloat when she pulled the last of the winnings to her, but she didn’t. He waited for her terms, certain that they would exceed what he would honor.
She counted the days on her fingers and said, “Six days. That brings us to Tuesday.”
He hated that he had to know. Hated that he couldn’t charge forward as uninhibited as she’d been since the moment he’d met her. “Six days of what?” he demanded.
She smiled at him gently and shrugged. “Of whatever we want to do, but let’s stay here at the cabin.”
“We have to go back eventually,” he said gruffly, not wanting her to know how much he wanted those extra days alone with her.
“I know,” she said a bit sadly. “But we don’t have to go today.”
Six days and three hours.
He could give her that.
All seriousness fell away as a huge smile spread across her face and she announced, “And we stay naked!”
He raised one eyebrow at her. “Are you a nudist now?”
She shrugged those beautiful shoulders again and said, “No, but I may have been one in a past life, because I would love to play Ping-Pong like this.”
The image of the two of them attempting such a feat made him chuckle and then give in to a hearty laugh. “I don’t have anything like that here.”
“Well, who stocks your food? Maybe they could drop a few games by.”
“I can think of better ways to occupy our time,” he said suggestively.
She placed her hands on her hips, lifting those lovely breasts up and down with the move and countered, “You’re just afraid you’ll lose again.”
He stood up, walked to the phone, and called the man who lived a mile or so away and cared for the cabin. “Carl, I need you to pick up a few things for me in town. You may have to go to Dallas to get it, but I’ll make it worth your while.” Although Carl was an older gentleman, Tony knew he had sons living with him who could help. “Leave everything in the driveway. I’m here for about a week, but I don’t want to be disturbed.”
The old man cackled loud enough that Tony held the phone away from his ear for relief. “You finally brought one of your lady friends with you, have you? I’ll tell my boys to be real discrete like. Now what do you two lovebirds need?”
On any other day, with anyone besides Sarah looking sweetly up at him, he would have told Carl what he could do with his sense of humor. Instead, Tony gritted his teeth and said, “I’d like a Ping-Pong set. You know the ones you can put on top of a table?”
Carl said, “I’m sorry. I have an old man’s hearing. Did you just say Ping-Pong?”
It didn’t help Tony’s mood that Sarah heard his question and was covering her mouth to stop from laughing.
She jumped to her feet, a movement so tantalizing that it temporarily wiped all coherent thought from Tony, and gripped his arm. “And backgammon—I love that game. Oh, and Monopoly?”
Carl lowered his voice and said, “Son, if your lady friend is that bored, you may want to meet me in the driveway for a bit of advice. Never too late to learn a few tricks.”
Tony covered his eyes with one hand and groaned. “I appreciate that, Carl, but just bring the games.”
“Your call, Tony. The offer stands, though. I’ve been married over fifty years. I know a thing or two about the workings of the female mind.” When Tony didn’t credit his offer with a response, Carl said, “I should have the stuff by tomorrow. Until then, don’t be afraid to get a bit more creative. There’s no shame in asking a woman what she wants.”
Tony hung up the phone and turned to Sarah. “He thinks I’ve bored you into seeking alternative recreation.”
Sarah ran a hand playfully down his arm. “Poor Tony, do you want me to call him back and reassure him that I’m completely satisfied?”
Tony caught her hand beneath his and held it. “No, but I have to warn you that I’ve never enjoyed playing games, Ping-Pong or any other type.”
The impish grin she gave him sent his heart racing in his chest. “That’s because you’ve never played them naked.”
He conceded that point. He’d always enjoyed poker, but today was the first time he hadn’t minded losing. The idea of watching Sarah’s lovely breasts bounce as she leapt to make a shot or glimpsing her delightful ass bent over as she retrieved a stray ball was beyond tempting—creating a fantasy that rocked his control.
Familiarity normally lessened his desire. Sarah was different. The more he was with her, the more he wanted to be. He hoped to God six days would be enough to change that. For now, he had another fantasy to address. “The games won’t be here until tomorrow, but I’m pretty sure I have some rope around here somewhere.”
Instead of looking nervous as he’d expected, she said, “I’ve always wanted to tie a man to a bed and have my way with him.”
She raised herself up on her tiptoes and wiggled her eyebrows at him. “Is that a dare?”
He tried to look down at her sternly, but the evidence of his arousal sprung to life between them, making it difficult to argue that the idea had no appeal to him. “It’s a fact.”
Sarah leaned forward until her nipples brushed his chest. She took his throbbing dick in one hand and caressed it while she pulled his head down to whisper in his ear. “I’ve always dreamed of being in control just once. I’d rub my body all over you and take things at a slow pace. Instead of enjoying your hands on me, I’d lick every inch of your body. I’d take you in my mouth and bring you to the brink and then, only then, I’d let you taste me. They say that a postponed orgasm is a stronger one. I’d test that theory. I’d bring you close again and again, taking my orgasms but delaying yours until you couldn’t take it anymore. You’d threaten me, beg me, want to drag me on top of you, but still I’d make you wait. Then, when we’re both in a place where neither of us could wait a second longer, I’d lower myself on your . . .” she paused over her word choice, and he smiled despite how excited she’d made him.
“Cock,” he suggested. “You’d lower yourself on my cock.”
Her hand tightened on him and she echoed the word in a whisper. “Cock.”
The mixture of innocence and siren drove him wild. He jerked and almost came in her hand, cursing that he could be so close so soon. “I’ll go get the rope,” he said in a rush, stumbling a bit as he stepped back from her. She’d done it again, bulldozed through what he considered a nonnegotiable line in the sand.
Some things were worth keeping an open mind about, though.
And he was sure there wasn’t a man alive who wouldn’t agree with him.
Chapter Thirteen
A few days later, Sarah catnapped beside Tony on the couch, snuggled beneath a light comforter. Time was passing too quickly—a blur of showering together between games they often didn’t finish because one of them lost patience and leaned in for a heated kiss that would lead them both astray.
Gentling the Cowboy Page 13
