Under Pressure

by Rhonda Lee Carver

  “I don’t believe you! Someone must have told you he was away. How easy it would be to lie.”

  “If you don’t believe me, then talk to him yourself. His contact is already up.” Spark reached into his front pocket and tossed her the phone. “You already know how it works.”

  Catching it with one hand, she looked at the screen. Her throat narrowed. Hitting talk, it rang twice and her father answered. Hitting speaker, she wanted Spark to hear her father loud and clear when he told her to shoot him. “Dad, it’s me. I have a guy here who says he’s the new hand.”

  “Spark Ryder. And honey, please don’t shoot him.” Her father’s sigh rattled the phone.

  “What makes you think I have him facing the barrel of a gun?”

  “Because I know you. Now, put the gun away, be a hospitable helper and show him the property.”

  “But Dad…he doesn’t have a very trustworthy character.”

  “Sweetheart, there’s been a misunderstanding. He explained it to me, now let him do the same for you. I’ve got to go because I’m in the community dance off.” The phone went dead. She threw it back at Spark and he juggled it from hand to hand.

  “Who are you?”

  Turning, Jewels narrowed her eyes on Em who was now standing in the doorway. “What do you mean? This is Spark Ryder. The cowboy who lied to you,” Jewels said.

  Em blinked twice and her mouth twisted. “No, Jewels, he isn’t.”

  “What? Yes it is!” Her nerve endings blushed.

  “Do you think it’s possible to put the gun down during this conversation?” Spark asked.

  Jewels thought over his request and finally lowered the weapon, placing it against the railing. “Someone explain this to me, please!”

  Em gave Spark a flirtatious smile and shrugged. “Yes, the cowboy’s name was Spark, but this isn’t him. This cowboy’s hot, but nope, not him. He looks single. Are you single?”

  Jewels growled. “Em, cut it out.” They were in enough hot water as it was.

  Spark chuckled and his expression softened—slightly. “Yes, I’m single.” He pushed back his hat and nailed Jewels with annoyance. She squirmed and hoped her cheeks weren’t as red as she imagined they were.

  “So if the drama is over, can I go back to bed now?” Em whined.

  “Yes. Go back to bed. You and I will talk later.” Jewels waved her off. She’d definitely give her sister a good talking to later, although Em had no clue of what Jewels had done last night. If she had to face the tyrant in cowboy boots, she’d rather do it alone. After all, she’d planned payback all by herself.

  Em disappeared into the house and Jewels turned to face the cowboy standing ten feet from her. The sharpness in his jaw spoke volumes of his impatience.

  She wouldn’t weaken, even if she’d made a mistake.

  She scrambled for something to say. “Did the wax strips come off okay?”

  “Along with patches of hair…and skin.”

  “It was the one-tug-is-all-you-need kind.”

  “Yeah, I got that.” He shuffled one boot across the rocks.

  “I know you probably don’t want to hear my apology—”

  “No, there’s not much you could say that I’d want to hear,” he said.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. Of course, he wasn’t going to make this easy for her. She couldn’t blame him. He’d paid the price for some jerk’s bad behavior. “Look, I was only taking up for my sister. It was a simple mistaken identity. It could happen to anyone.”

  “There’s a thing called communication. We ask a question and, in most cases, we get an answer in return. You could have saved us both a lot of time—and a lot of stress.” He dropped his gaze over her. His eyes pierced her flesh, and she squirmed.

  “You’re right. I can’t argue that. But seriously, if I would have asked if you were the man who screwed my sister, then gave her a fake number, would you have answered honestly?”

  He sighed. “In theory, if I was the man you’re referring to, which I’m not, but if I was, no I guess I wouldn’t be honest. But I don’t get into playing games like some men and women do— that’s what separates me from all of the assholes in the world.”

  She related and really thought they were getting somewhere. “Then some asshole used your name to get to third base with Em.”

  “And that’d be my friend, Clay Silver. He’s an ass alright, but not as much of one as you might think. He did lie about his name, but he didn’t about the number. He slipped-up and gave your sister his old number. We all are forgetful at times, right?”

  No, she guessed they weren’t getting anywhere.

  She brought her chin up. “Are you defending him? I mean, who gives an old number? Had he forgotten his name too? What a lame excuse.”

  “It’s possible your sister has the same memory loss issues since she gave him a different name too. I heard you call her Em, but my friend knows her as Jewels. And that’s you.”

  Her stomach rolled. She couldn’t wait to have that talk with Em. “Apparently, my sister left some finer details out of the story.”

  “Apparently.” A grin played at the corner of his mouth. He shrugged. “I can’t vouch for why he stood her up. You’d have to take that up with him. Now, weren’t you working on an apology?”

  “You said you didn’t want to hear one from me, or anything for that matter.”

  “I’ve changed my mind. The sun’s coming up and it’s only going to get hotter for this cowboy standing in the wide open.”

  Coming to grips with her pride, she rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry about the misunderstanding.”

  ~°°°~

  Spark digested her apology. There were two things working against him this morning as he stood at the bottom of the steps to the porch.

  One, he should be fired up that he was mistaken for another cowboy and was punished with a modern day torture device innocently named wax strips. Why would anyone use that shit on their body?

  Second, Jewels Stone was the prettiest, sexiest woman he’d laid eyes on, and unfortunately, she looked much better in the light of day. She wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup and her hair looked like she’d met up with a cyclone, yet he couldn’t drag his gaze off her.

  What irked him the most? She wore the tiniest, skimpiest shirt and shorts that sent his imagination down a wrong path. If only he could stomp up the steps…she’d be at the perfect level to bury his tongue in her—

  Damn!

  His cock twitched and wrestled with the confines of his boxers.

  She knew he was turned on. He could see the awareness in her chocolate eyes and her nipples hardened. The pearly buds pressed the fabric, teasing him.

  The length of her slender legs drove him through the Sahara desert of his mind and he thirsted for a tall drink of Jewels. He grazed the delectable part of her firm thighs where the hem of her frilly pale blue shorts stopped, reminding him of pretty wrapping he couldn’t wait to remove to find the gift inside.

  Truth was, he’d like her legs better if they were draped around his bare waist.

  Hell, every part of her was mouthwatering.

  He slipped his hat off and swiped his hand across his damp brow.

  Yeah, a man could dream.

  At least he’d gotten his apology, which was late in coming.

  “How do your legs feel?” she asked.

  “Like I got into a fight with a rooster and lost.”

  “Come inside. I’ve got something that’ll help you.” Jewels went to the screen door, opened it, motioning for him to follow.

  Dirty thoughts skipped through his mind. Damn, a woman didn’t make an offer like that unless she was thinking dirty too.

  Boss’s daughter. Off limits.

  The limits were slipping.

  “Sorry, but I’m a little skittish when it comes to your proposals.” He shook his head.

  “Awww…find your bravery and come with me. I promise, you won’t complain.” She stepped inside of the house. The
screen door screeched and slammed shut.

  He stood there, weighing his options with a scale of good and evil.

  He could run like hell—he should. Or, he could risk it all and follow Jewels. He had a feeling he’d follow her into a raging fire if it meant he could kiss her one more time. He’d never known another that could turn him inside out with one glance.

  Looking over each shoulder, there was no one around. No one who could save him from his internal demon that wanted to get real dirty with a treasure rightly named Jewels.

  Pushing aside the last sliver of doubt, he stepped upon the porch and opened the door, peeking in. He walked in and gently closed the door.

  He examined the foyer. The walls were lined with family photos. On a small cherry wood table set a framed picture of a younger Joshua Stone. Sitting next to him was a beautiful red-haired woman and three young girls with similar features. The one sitting closest to Stone was Jewels. He’d know the bright cinnamon eyes and deep dimples anywhere. Jewels looked a lot like her mother.

  “I’m back here.” She yelled from somewhere in the back of the house.

  He stepped across the polished wood floor, dragging his hat from his head and holding it against his chest.

  “Are you coming?”

  He followed her voice down a long hallway and into the kitchen. She was holding a white box.

  “I hope you don’t have any torture objects in that thing.” He chuckled but he was as serious as a heart attack.

  She smiled and he swore it could compete against the brightest rays of the sun. “No, I promise. Now, pull your pants off,” she demanded.

  “Oka—what?” He was hearing things.

  “Pull your pants off.”

  “Uhh, you asked me to do the very same last night and it didn’t work out so well.” Not to mention they were in the middle of her kitchen, her sister was somewhere in the house and who knew who else.

  “Don’t be shy, Spark. It’s not as if I haven’t seen it already.” There wasn’t a sliver of modesty on her face. “Now, drop them. I have an ointment that’ll make your sensitive skin feel much better.”

  “That’s sweet of you, but I can handle the discomfort.”

  “Don’t let heroism get the best of you, cowboy.” One corner of her pretty lips lifted. “We need good, sturdy hands here on the land. If you’re going to be out working in the sun mending fences and stacking hay this afternoon, I want you as strong as I can get you. We wouldn’t want any part of you—” Her gaze shot to his waist then back up so fast that he wondered if he’d imagined it. “—getting infected, now would we?”

  He swallowed. He wasn’t sure if the mention of infection or her reference to his parts made more of a reaction in his body. “No, I don’t want anything catching a cold.” He undid the buckle, the metal clanged and echoed off the wallpapered walls, and then loosened the zipper. His jeans dropped to his booted ankles. “If it’s all the same to you, I won’t remove them entirely.” This way, if for some unexpected reason he had to run, it’d be easier to pull them up on his way out the door.

  He wasn’t quite trusting her yet.

  “Suit yourself.” She swept around the counter, box in hand. “Have a seat here on a barstool. You’ll be at a perfect height.” He lifted his brows and she shook her head. “Tsk, tsk. Pull your mind from the gutter.” Her eyes twinkled.

  “Come on, sweetheart. Admit it, when we’re together the mind has a way of twisting down a naughty path.”

  Her cheeks turned crimson. “Not at all.” He noticed the slight tremble in her fingers.

  He didn’t believe her for a second but didn’t argue. He slid up on the stool, propping his booted heels on the metal. He watched her closely as she opened the box and fumbled through the contents. She produced a small vial and held it up, shaking it and tapping the lid against her palm.

  “What is it?” As far as he knew, she could be using a liquid form of hair removal.

  “It’s a secret potion.”

  He searched her face for any glimpse of humor. Nothing. “What?”

  A smile broke out over her features. “I’m kidding. You really don’t trust me at all do you?” She looked at him through a long veil of dark lashes.

  “Not even in the slightest.”

  “Yet you’re still allowing me to help you.” Her tongue swept out and rolled across her bottom lip.

  “Pass up having you touch me? Not going to happen.” Although flirting should be breaking an unwritten rule, he couldn’t bother with guidelines, not when she stood this close.

  He enjoyed seeing her flustered, not to mention the way she looked at him with an innocence he knew was a smokescreen. He got a mere glimpse of her wild side and he could only imagine the road rash he’d walk away with if he succumbed.

  “Wow, you do have charm. I never would have guessed.” She uncapped the container and dropped the lid on the granite counter. It rolled across the slippery top and dropped to the floor. He could see she was nervous, and he was flattered.

  “I have my moments.” He winked.

  Feeling cold wetness against his hand, he jerked and looked down. The dog was nuzzling his nose against Spark’s knuckles. “I don’t know what you’re feeding this thing, but he’s a monster.” He rubbed the dog’s head and received a whimpered thank you.

  “This is Oyster. Pet him at your own risk. Once you start, it could turn into an all-day thing. He demands attention.”

  “Oh, I’m not worried. Hey, boy, how are you? You’re a big guy, aren’t you? You should consider protecting your house better, buddy. Your owner will end up shooting you or some other poor bastard who has made her angry.” Oyster plopped down by the chair, resting his chin on Spark’s boot.

  Jewels sighed. “It didn’t take you long to find a friend.”

  “I’m likeable. Hard to believe, huh?”

  She shrugged. “By the way, just to make this clear, I wouldn’t shoot anyone unless I felt I was threatened.”

  “And you thought I was a threat? That’s interesting since you were the one who seduced me and tied me up. What a waste of rope. We could have had lots of fun.” He loved seeing her cheeks turn a pretty shade of red.

  “You’re a funny guy. I didn’t see you laughing when I pulled the gun on you. Thank goodness, my shooting abilities are spot on. I bet I can shoot better than you on any day of the week.” Challenge lit her tone.

  He chuckled. “If you say so. But considering that you pull your gun, and wax, at the slight change in the breeze, I think it’s safer if I don’t test you.”

  “You’re incorrigible,” she seethed.

  “I’ve been told that a time or two.”

  She examined his legs and he got a glimpse of the tops of her breasts. Sweet baby grasshopper!

  “Hmm, not too bad.”

  “Thank you,” he mumbled.

  She shook her head sending tendrils of hair falling around her cheeks. “Not sure where your thoughts are, but I’m talking about your legs—the scabs.” Did her bottom lip quiver? “The salve will help. It’ll also keep your jeans from chafing the skin.” She dipped her fingers into the clear ointment and wiped it across his shin. “So you knew who I was before Two Step? As far as I know, you and I have never met. And why didn’t you call me out?”

  He relaxed back into the chair, liking the way her fingers moved on his legs. Watching her slender fingers on his skin left him in a trance. “When I came here the first time to meet with your dad, I saw you outside. Only a glimpse, but I remembered.” She brought her chin up for a mere second. He swallowed, realizing she probably caught the catch in his tone. “When I saw you at the bar, I guess I wanted to see what you were up to. I thought you were testing me as a new employee, and now that I’ve said it aloud, it sounds ignorant on my part.”

  “That would be a very unfair way of testing employees. Most men will cave under a woman’s attention.”

  “I sense a bit of bitterness in that statement. I’m going to go out on a limb here,
but I believe your vindication for your sister was more for your own personal gain.” He knew he walked a thin line, but he’d never been good at sugar coating anything.

  “Oh, what makes you say that?” She applied more salve.

  “Because your sister seems more than capable of taking care of herself. And you reacted emotionally, not logically.”

  She squinted. “You’re wrong.”

  “Am I? If you had probed deeper into the pieces of the story, you wouldn’t have felt as if you needed revenge. Instead, you jumped to conclusions, something we do when we’re reeling from an emotional catastrophe.”

  “Do you have any clue what an emotional catastrophe feels like?” She glared at him.

  “Losing a sister in a car accident is considered a catastrophe, right?”

  She moistened her lips. “You lost your sister?”

  “Ten years ago. But damn did I do some crazy things after that. I joined the rodeo circuit and almost got myself killed—not once or twice, but a helluva lot more.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Spark.” Sincerity turned her gaze soft.”

  “I’m an innocent man, Jewels, but I think because I’m a man that instantly makes me guilty of something in your book.”

  “Good theory you have.” She stood up straight and held his gaze. “But you are right about one thing. You are guilty of something.”

  “Is that right?” He scrubbed his jaw and the raspy sound of hair growth reminded him that he didn’t even take the time to shave this morning. By afternoon, he’d sport a halfway decent beard. “Please enlighten me.”

  “You should have told me you knew who I was.”

  “And I’m to blame? You should have been honest and told me upfront who you were. Instead, you lied.”

  Her mouth thinned. “There’s only so many times you can run me over the coals.”

  “And I believe under the circumstances, I have a lot more times to go before you’re even close to being acquitted.”

  “I think you’re getting some weird delight out of torturing me.”

  “Probably about the same pleasure you got in torturing me.”

  Soft footsteps sounded on the floor, and before he could move a muscle, they had company. The dark headed woman stopped dead in her tracks. She looked like Jewels, except for the olive complexion and her eyes were darker. Great, another Stone he had to face. The surprise on the woman’s face almost made him laugh, but he bit it back.