Wild Wyoming Nights

by Joanne Rock

  He’d ridden beside her briefly before setting her loose to try the track on her own.

  “Almost.” She thought she heard a hint of a smile in his voice. Or was that wishful thinking? “But I never imagined myself overseeing cattle at my age. Ranching is fine for my twin brother, but I thought I’d be riding rodeo into my thirties.”

  She hadn’t known about the twin brother. Or the rodeo past. Still, she could relate to what he was saying. She felt him shift beside her, turning toward her. A gust of wind blew through her hair, flicking strands against her cheek.

  “I never thought I’d be recreating sword fights or high-speed chases, either. But sometimes life takes surprising turns.”

  “I’ll bet it’s an interesting story how you got here, Emma Layton.” Her name on his lips felt as intimate as a caress to a woman who hadn’t been touched by a man in a long, long time.

  The rush of heat through her veins shouldn’t have caught her off guard—she’d been feeling it all day around him. She’d run four miles to try to escape it. Even so, the magnetic force that seemed to pull her toward him was like nothing she’d ever experienced. Her shoulders shifted fractionally closer. Her knee brushed his.

  She drew in a sharp breath at the contact, ripples of pleasure radiating out from the point where she touched him. She forgot what they were talking about. Couldn’t think of words to say even if she remembered. There was only the moment and the man. The endless starry sky enveloping them like a dream.

  Maybe that was why she found herself leaning even closer—it all felt surreal. Like a time-out from the worry and stress of her real life, where everything was suddenly simpler. Where kissing Carson McNeill seemed like the only thing that mattered.

  Her hand landed on his chest. Warm. Strong. Inviting.

  She splayed her fingers wider, wanting to feel more of him. Then she tipped her face up to his. She was close enough to see him well despite the darkness. His eyes locked on hers for an instant—like two stars close up.

  And then his lips claimed hers.

  * * *

  Carson had been wrestling with the need to touch Emma all day. For hours, they’d been in close proximity, and the urge to kiss her had been there. Every. Single. Moment.

  He’d resisted. Triumphed. Walked away from her at the end of the work day, satisfied that he’d done the right thing.

  But as soon as he’d spotted her treating his ranch like her personal gym out on the pasture road, her glossy brown ponytail swinging while she jogged, he knew his restraint was all out for the day. She’d worn right through it with her bullheaded determination to fake her way through a horseback stunt. Hell, she’d shredded it with her grit and bravado that rivaled any bull rider’s.

  So now when she tipped her mouth up to his, freely offering the taste he’d battled his conscience over all day, he didn’t have a prayer of turning away. Petal-soft and strawberry-scented, her lips parted on a sigh, molding to his. Yielding sweetly. She skimmed her palm over his chest, sliding lower. He wrapped his arm around her, anchoring her against him, feeling the swell of her breasts as she eased nearer.

  Wind whipped around them, stirring the scent of her fruity shampoo as tendrils escaped the ponytail and tickled his cheek. Hunger for more surged, hunger he couldn’t possibly satisfy. He’d never had a woman affect him like this—so swiftly or so completely. Her fingers clenched around the hem of his T-shirt, her nails gently scraping his skin and arousing a whole other heat they couldn’t possibly indulge...

  “Emma.” He blinked his way through the sensual fog, hoping he’d regain reason as he broke the kiss.

  As it was, he simply tipped his forehead to hers, waiting to catch his breath. Her eyes stayed closed a long moment. When she opened them, she edged away even more.

  “Sorry,” she murmured.

  His eyes were adjusted enough to the dark that he could see her run her fingers over her lips. The gesture made his insides twist with need.

  “I wish you weren’t. Sorry, that is. I’ll be damned if I am.”

  He debated starting up the utility vehicle and flooring the gas until he got her back to her room for the night. Behind a locked door. But his stepmother was being transferred to the local hospital tonight, and he wanted to be there for his family when she arrived in Cheyenne.

  “You wouldn’t say that if you knew why I’m here.” Emma tightened her ponytail in a gesture he’d seen her repeat often over the course of the day.

  He’d be willing to bet she didn’t let her hair down often. And yeah, maybe that made him want to crow with victory that she’d seemed to forget everything else with him just now.

  “What do you mean?” He forced himself to focus on her words and not the leftover heat still sparking through him. Then he started the vehicle, knowing he needed to get on the road for the hospital soon.

  “I mean, I’m not an up-and-coming starlet, in town because I’m so excited to further my career.” She hugged her arms around herself, sitting back farther in her seat.

  “You’re not trying to get ahead in your career?” He didn’t follow what she was getting at. “Could have fooled me given how hard you worked today.”

  “Yes. Well, I want to keep my job. Desperately.” She slanted a look his way as they skirted a patch of trees and neared the lights of the White Canyon Ranch. “But that’s because I need to be anywhere but LA this week since my ex-boyfriend is getting out of prison tomorrow.”

  Carson tried to process that. He hoped like hell that the ex in question hadn’t hurt her. But damn. Wouldn’t that account for her level of determination not to be in California this week?

  “I’m sorry to hear you were in a bad relationship,” he said carefully. “And I’m glad to know why it means so much that you stay in Wyoming for the film. But that doesn’t make me the least bit sorry I kissed you.”

  “There’s relationship baggage, and then there’s relationship kryptonite. I’m pretty sure a felon ex-boyfriend puts me in the latter category.” She lifted her nylon knapsack off the floor and set it in her lap, as if she couldn’t sprint out of the vehicle fast enough.

  Carson slowed to a stop outside the deep porch of the huge log guest ranch, wanting to tread warily in this conversation, but also needing to reassure her that her past didn’t change how he viewed her.

  “Your ex being in jail doesn’t reflect on you. Only on him.”

  She unfastened her seat belt with a jerky movement. She was upset and he regretted having any part in making her feel that way. He’d watched her overcome one challenge after another on her horse today, admiring her never-ending supply of resolve.

  “He was in prison for hitting me.” She looked at him, her gaze unwavering. “And once he’s freed, he’ll come looking for me. The last thing I want to do is drag an unsuspecting man into the drama.”

  She bolted from the car as if she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell in his lap. By the time he shook off being stunned and set out to follow Emma, the screen door was already banging behind her.

  Three

  Emma realized she was being a coward the moment she got through the door of the White Canyon Ranch.

  She’d kissed Carson and let that kiss carry her away. Then, when she acknowledged to herself how much she’d enjoyed it, she had panicked. She’d flung her past in the man’s face and sprinted. If she ever wanted to move beyond the abuse, she needed to stop acting like this. Like she was ashamed and embarrassed about it.

  More than that, if she was going to move forward with her life, she had to stop putting up smokescreens when a hot guy tempted her to take a chance on the opposite sex again. She had to take ownership of her feelings.

  Forcing herself to stop, she pivoted on the toe of her running shoe before she hit the first step of the main staircase. She wasn’t surprised to see Carson striding through the front door and into the huge foyer with cathedr
al ceilings.

  Her pulse stuttered, then quickened. He’d been appealing, sitting next to her in the darkened vehicle under the stars. Here, in the light cast by the huge antler chandelier overhead, he stole her breath. His gaze locked on her as he closed the distance between them, and those blue eyes saw right inside her.

  “Can we talk privately?” he asked, his expression concerned, his touch tender as he wrapped a hand lightly around her forearm.

  “Sure.” She nodded. “I was just thinking the same thing.” Peering around the empty foyer, she set her knapsack in a window seat behind a floor-length curtain draped around a wooden pull back. Then she followed him back outside to the wide front porch that wrapped two sides of the building.

  Although the guest ranch was full to capacity with cast and crew members this week, the property was relatively quiet now. Emma recalled seeing a bulletin on her phone that a charter bus had been scheduled to transport interested sightseers into downtown Cheyenne tonight for dinner and entertainment.

  As Carson guided her toward the railing at the far end of the building, she decided to save him the trouble of asking her more about her past.

  “That was wrong of me to spring on you,” she said, leaning a hip into the railing while he turned to face her.

  “On the contrary, I’m glad to know so I can make sure you’re safe here.” His jaw flexed as he stared down at her. “I’m just sorry you went through that.”

  “Thank you.” She couldn’t help but feel touched. His words sounded heartfelt. “It’s not something I make a habit of sharing. But I guess I got rattled after the kiss, and felt like you should know.”

  “I’d like you to move to the Creek Spill, where I have top-notch security.”

  She noticed he didn’t say anything about the kiss, which was probably just as well. Maybe he wanted to forget about that moment of heated craziness, too.

  Her thoughts skipped ahead to her position in the cast and what he’d just said about her staying at the other ranch. “Do you mean I can keep this job? You don’t plan on making Zoe send me back home?”

  A hint of a smile pulled at one corner of his mouth. She remembered what it had felt like to kiss him and got a pleasant shiver just thinking about it. It wasn’t going to be easy to forget what had happened between them.

  “One thing at a time,” he cautioned. Pulling his phone from his back pocket, he tapped in some commands. “I’ve got a family obligation tonight, but I can have someone help you pack your things and move you into a suite at the Creek Spill.”

  “That’s so kind of you, but I don’t need help—”

  The warning look in his eyes stopped her protest. “Then consider it a favor for my peace of mind. From now on, you’re my personal guest.”

  The seriousness in his voice made her wonder how personal a guest she was going to be. Plenty of the first unit cast members were staying on his property, so she assumed she would be housed with them. Still, it might make things a little awkward with Zoe and her second unit crew if she wasn’t staying with them.

  “I’m not sure if my director will think that’s such a good idea.”

  Carson finished whatever he was doing on his phone and pocketed the device. Then he put both hands on her shoulders, causing a warm heat that made her insides flutter.

  “Then you can tell her the rationale, or I will, but she’s going to have to agree to the arrangement.” His thumbs sketched a light touch along her collarbone, and her skin heated everywhere. “I just asked one of the White Canyon staffers to meet you at your room, and transportation is on the way. The attendant will help you with your bags and see you into the vehicle. You’ll be met on the other end by my housekeeper, Mrs. Tillson. She’ll show you the suite where you can put your things and will have dinner ready as soon as you arrive.”

  She tried not to notice the way she wanted to sway toward him. No man had touched her this way in years. As for tending to her every need so thoroughly? No man had done that. Ever.

  Emma reminded herself not to get used to it. As soon as filming was done, she would be back in LA, trying to carve out a life for herself while Carson McNeill would still be lord of all he surveyed in Cheyenne. She couldn’t afford to get used to the sort of help he offered.

  “That’s more than generous.” Blinking, she straightened away from his touch, needing to stand strong on her own feet. “Thank you.”

  He studied her for a moment longer before he gave a clipped nod. “I’d help you settle in myself but my stepmother has been in the hospital and my family is expecting me over there. I’ll see you in the morning, though. Help yourself to anything you need while I’m away.”

  He moved toward the driveway where he’d parked his vehicle, but stopped when she didn’t join him.

  She was still stuck on what he’d said about helping herself. While he was away.

  Did that imply he’d be...with her when he returned?

  The breeze blowing off the hills made her wrap her arms around herself, as a chill set in from the sweat that had dried on her skin after her run. A chill...or a pleasurable shiver. She didn’t know what she was feeling, but she knew she needed to get a handle on herself.

  “What is it?” he asked, though he didn’t move toward her.

  “I. Um. Just wondering.” Nerves skittered through her. “Where exactly will I be staying at the ranch?”

  He frowned. “The bunkhouse and external buildings are filled to capacity with the ranch’s employees and with the film’s cast and crew. But there’s plenty of room in the main house. You’ll stay with me.”

  * * *

  Carson couldn’t stop thinking about Emma.

  He sat beside his stepmother, who’d finally been transported to the Cheyenne hospital after a week in a medical facility nine hours away. She had been cleared for a flight on a fixed-wing medical plane at the family’s expense so she could recover closer to home.

  And she was recovering, according to her team of doctors, even if Carson couldn’t see much improvement in her condition. At least she was off the ventilator now. And all three of his half sisters—Scarlett as well as Maisie and Madeline—had been in the room with her yesterday when she’d opened her eyes briefly, a sign Paige was pulling out of the coma.

  That was why Carson didn’t consider it disrespectful that his thoughts wandered to Emma so often in the hours that he’d been watching over his stepmother in her private room. The door was closed to shut out most of the sounds in the hallway. A nurse came in every half hour to check monitors and adjust IVs, but other than that, the room was quiet except for a gray clock ticking on the far wall. His half sisters had left to grab some dinner and change before Scarlett—the youngest of the daughters Paige had with Carson’s father, Donovan—returned to relieve him.

  Carson had plenty to worry about right now with overseeing the ranches, making sure the filming didn’t interfere with day-to-day operations, and beginning a private investigation into his stepmother’s past to see if there was any merit to the blackmailer’s claim. Yet as he sat in the big gray lounger between the window and the hospital bed, what concerned him most was Emma.

  He’d been floored by the idea of any man raising a hand to her. The thought still made him sick hours later. He wouldn’t have been able to take his shift at the hospital tonight if she’d refused to settle into a suite at his house. Because at least now he had the satisfaction of knowing—thanks to a text from his housekeeper—that Emma was safely ensconced in his place, behind doors with a security code. She was surrounded by ranch hands who worked for him, plus a security guard he’d paid to ensure the equipment barns and horses under his care remained untouched for the duration of the filming.

  Carson had already requested two more security guards to start tomorrow. One to ensure Emma’s safety. Another to patrol the grounds. They needed to keep a watch for Emma’s ex, but it would also help the
McNeill family to monitor for any new threats from their mystery blackmailer. Emma’s past gave him a good justification for the additional security since his siblings had agreed not to tell their father about the blackmail note Scarlett had received during her visit to LA the day before Paige’s accident.

  As for Emma—no one was getting close to her on his watch.

  Except for him.

  The thought didn’t just whisper across his consciousness. It roared and shouted. The kiss they’d shared had seared itself into his brain, making him realize that despite his good intentions where she was concerned, staying away from her for the next two weeks was going to be impossible. It would have been tough enough for him to keep his distance while they worked together on her riding. But now? All that combustible attraction was going to be front and center, 24/7.

  But she had to stay with him.

  He’d kissed her. Touched her. Shared her confidence. That made him want to protect her.

  The wide door to Paige’s room creaked open and Scarlett backed into the room, juggling a balloon bouquet, flowers and a brightly striped duffel bag.

  Carson shot out of his seat to give her a hand, darting around the rolling table with a water pitcher.

  “Thanks.” Scarlett threw him a grateful smile, her long dark curls still damp from the shower. “I couldn’t resist loading up on things at the gift shop since we couldn’t bring the flowers from the other hospital with us.”

  Carson set the hot-pink roses on the bedside table before tying the balloons to a handrail against the far wall. “I’ll make sure she gets more in the morning.”

  When he finished the task, he hugged his sister, hating to see her look so worn-out. Not that he’d tell her as much. She was a beautiful woman, but she’d always considered herself less attractive than her older sisters. It was something about looking more like her mother, whereas the rest of them took after their dad. Carson knew it was baseless nonsense. But Scarlett had once filled his favorite boots with rocks and flung them into an irrigation pond after he’d told her she looked like a cartoon giraffe. He’d been twelve.