Taming a Dark Horse

by Stella Bagwell

  She looked up at him, her expression turning sardonic. “You’ll get there soon enough. Besides, I doubt there’s a rooster within miles of here.”

  He grunted a laugh. “Don’t leave your window up tonight. Marina has two roosters and both of them like to crow.”

  “Don’t all men,” she muttered under her breath.

  “What?”

  She drew in a long breath and blew it out. “Nothing. I’ll keep the windows shut. By the way, what time do you get up?”

  He looked down at her. “Normally I get up at four-thirty. But that’s when I’m working. Why does it matter?”

  “Do you want to walk around the house in your underwear? Or would you like me to help you get into your jeans first?” she asked dryly.

  Oh Lord, he thought desperately. This whole dressing and undressing thing was going to have to go on for several days. Probably until the bandages on his fingers came off completely. And after looking at their fragile appearance tonight, he doubted that would be any time soon.

  He didn’t answer immediately and she spoke up before he could decide exactly what he wanted to tell her.

  “Maybe I should send for some sweat pants or pajamas. You could pull them on yourself and not have to endure me touching you.” The shirt finally slipped down his arm and she tossed the garment onto the bed.

  Linc’s brows shot upward at her testy remark. “Who said I didn’t want you touching me?”

  “I can tell. It’s killing you.”

  It was killing him all right, but not in the way she was thinking, Linc thought dismally. He had not expected any of this to feel so intimate and personal. He certainly hadn’t expected this deep desire to reach out and touch her hair, her skin, her face.

  “You’re a nurse. This is your job,” he pointed out more for himself than her.

  “That’s right. I’ve done this very thing many times before,” she said matter-of-factly as she reached for the button on the waistband of his jeans. “It’s all old hat.”

  He sucked in such a sharp breath it as if someone had taken a knife to his throat. “I’ll bet.”

  Nevada’s lips twisted and she glanced up at him with hard brown eyes. “That’s the second time you’ve implied that I’m promiscuous. What gave you that idea?”

  “You. You said you had boyfriends. Or did I misunderstand you?”

  With a shake of her head, she focused her gaze on the fly of his jeans. “No. You didn’t misunderstand. And aren’t you glad I’ve got experience. Otherwise, I might just get you all tangled up in this zipper,” she added cattily.

  Linc started to growl a warning at her, but the loud sound of the zipper peeling open caused his mouth to snap shut. Now wasn’t the time to press his luck, he thought. And if she didn’t step away from him soon, and leave the room, he was going to do something crazy. Like grab her and kiss her until she couldn’t say one more sassy word to him.

  She yanked the jeans down over his hips then put her palm in the middle of his chest. “Sit down on the bed and I’ll pull them off,” she ordered.

  He looked down at her soft brown hand pressing against his flesh, then lifted his gaze to hers. Something about the way she was touching him, looking at him, stirred him in ways he’d never experienced before and the feelings shocked and scared him. She was seducing him without even trying and he wanted to yell at her to get out and leave him alone. He didn’t want a woman turning his insides out. Especially not a woman who enjoyed playing the field.

  He sat down and Nevada grabbed onto the hem of his jeans and tugged the heavy denim down over his feet. Once they were free of his body, she tossed them onto his shirt and stepped back, noticing thankfully that he was wearing a pair of white boxers loose enough to hide the shape of his manhood.

  Clearing her throat, she asked as professionally as she could, “Is there anything else you need? Can you turn the covers back without my help?”

  “Yeah,” he muttered, “I can manage.”

  She looked across the room to where the curtains fluttered in the night breeze. “Do you normally sleep with the windows open?”

  He glanced over his shoulder to follow her gaze. “Yes. When the nights are cool, we usually keep the bunkhouse open. But that doesn’t mean that you have to turn off the air conditioner,” he assured her. “I’m sure you’re accustomed to artificial heating and cooling. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable just for my sake.”

  If his words had been sincere she would have been drawn to his thoughtfulness. But the sarcasm in his voice told her that he apparently had the idea that she was a spoiled princess who fooled around. The idea was laughable, yet at the moment she couldn’t find it in her to be amused.

  “I’m not concerned about myself,” she said coolly. “If you’re not accustomed to sleeping in a draft, you’ll wind up with a cold. And that’s the last thing your body needs when its trying to repair itself.”

  Even in the muted light, she could see his gaze flicking up and down her body. The sight caused her to unconsciously tighten the lapels of her robe together.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said curtly.

  “Good. I’ll say good-night, then.”

  Turning, she started to leave the room. But before she rounded the corner that would hide her from his view, he called her name.

  Pausing, she stifled a sigh and wondered how she’d ever gotten into such an awkward ordeal.

  Nevada glanced over her shoulder at him just in time to see him swallow and she was suddenly struck with the fact that he was nervous, that her touch had left him just as unsettled as she was feeling. The idea made her look at him in a totally different way and she felt her heart softening in spite of all the tacky comments he’d said to her.

  “Thanks,” he said quietly. “I appreciate your help.”

  Turning slightly back to him, she said, “You sure have a funny way of expressing it.”

  He grimaced. “Don’t expect me to be good at communicating, Nevada. I do most of my talking to horses and they’re much smarter than humans. Just a few words to them gets the point across.”

  Curious now, she walked back to him. “Is that really true? Do horses understand what you’re saying?”

  A soft glow lit his dark-green eyes. “Hell yes, they understand. In fact, most of the time you don’t have to say a word. They just know what you want even before you do.”

  She smiled wanly. “That sounds very nice. To be understood. But then I guess most animals have that inner instinct. I don’t know anything about horses. I’ve only ridden twice in my life.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  In the back of her mind, Nevada knew she shouldn’t be standing here in Linc’s bedroom, talking to him about anything other than his physical condition or needs. But she understood that he needed to talk, he needed to realize that sharing his thoughts with another person could actually be a nice experience.

  “While I was growing up several of my friends had horses, but my family couldn’t afford to have a horse. I felt left out when they got together and went on rides.”

  “Your family was poor?”

  She nodded. “Not dirt-poor. But we didn’t have much for any sort of extras.”

  His gaze was beginning to wonder over her face and hair and she could feel her stomach doing silly little jumps and twirls. He was an extremely handsome man. Not in a suave or smooth way, but in a very, very masculine way and she could hardly keep her eyes off his broad, thick shoulders or wide expanse of chest sprinkled with curly brown hair.

  “How did you manage to go to nursing school?” he asked.

  “I worked my way through with different part-time jobs. I worked in a dry cleaners, a café, a pharmacy, an insurance office. The last one paid the best, but I hated it. The day was filled with people demanding money and threatening lawsuits. It wasn’t for me. But at least it kept my bills and tuition paid. And I received a couple of scholarships that helped get me through.”

  “What about your parents? They did
n’t help with your education?”

  Nevada shook her head. “Mom does well to take care of herself. And Dad left a long time ago. He calls and comes around once in a while, but that’s about it.” Her gaze dropped to her bare toes. “He always figured I’d take care of myself. And I always have.”

  Linc tried to tell himself that her accomplishments weren’t that big a deal. It wasn’t uncommon for women to succeed on their own. Yet that was usually after they were grown and standing on secure ground. He figured Nevada had scrapped and scraped from the time she was big enough to work at odd jobs. He admired her greatly for that, even if he didn’t like her list of boyfriends.

  “Uh—I know I can’t do anything with the horses now. But later on you might like to take a ride.” He didn’t add, with me. He told himself he wasn’t necessarily making the offer as a way to spend time with her. He wanted to pay her back in some way and a horseback ride was as common as breathing to him.

  A slow grin lifted the corners of her lips and Linc realized he’d like to kiss those corners until her lips parted and her eyelids drifted shut.

  “You must already be planning how to pay me back,” she said teasingly. “I guess you’ve already got your worst bronc in mind to put me on.”

  That brought a smile to his face. “There’s not a horse in my remuda that’s a bronc. They’re not bred to buck. They’re bred to work cattle.”

  He leaned over to the nightstand and opened a door at the bottom. Several books were stacked inside and his bandaged hand shuffled awkwardly through them until he reached the one he was searching for.

  “Here,” he said, offering the book out to her. “You might like to look through this. If you’re not interested, that’s all right, too.”

  Nevada stepped forward and took the book from him. “The American Quarter Horse,” she read aloud, then glanced at him. “Is that what you raise here on the ranch?”

  He nodded.

  Smiling, she clutched the book to her breasts. “Thank you, Linc. I’ll take this to bed with me.”

  As Linc watched her leave his bedroom he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if she took him to bed. But that wasn’t something he could allow his mind to dwell on. Because going to bed with Nevada Ortiz was something that would never, ever happen.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning when Nevada climbed out of bed, the first thing that caught her attention was the smell of coffee. Which could only mean that Linc was already up and in the kitchen. How he’d managed to make coffee with his bandaged hands, she didn’t know, but she was certainly going to find out.

  After a quick trip to the bathroom, she tied on her robe and stuck her feet into a pair of satin mules. Once she left the bedroom, she headed straight to the kitchen expecting to find Linc there, but the room was empty.

  She poured herself a cup of coffee, which still smelled quite fresh, stirred in a hefty amount of cream, then walked over to the back door to glance onto the patio.

  The sight of Linc sitting there in a green motel chair took her by complete surprise. A moment ago, when she’d discovered he wasn’t in the kitchen, she’d assumed he’d be on the front porch. He seemed to feel more comfortable outdoors and probably enjoyed drinking his morning coffee in the fresh air. She hadn’t expected to find him at the back of the house.

  Opening the door, she stepped down onto the patio and carried her coffee over to where he sat with his long legs out in front of him. He hadn’t bothered to put on his hat and the faint yellow glow of the rising sun made the brown strands glisten with streaks of gold. The shirt he was wearing wasn’t buttoned. Neither were his jeans, but she could see he’d somehow managed to zip them up enough to keep them on his hips.

  “Good morning,” she greeted him while telling herself not to notice how damn sexy he looked. Those broad thick shoulders and square jaw didn’t make up for his moodiness, she told herself. Besides, he’d been a bachelor for years and from all that she could tell, he didn’t much like women. It would be foolish of her to fantasize about the man.

  “Good morning,” he replied.

  “Sorry I wasn’t up to help you dress,” she told him. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  Linc glanced over as she took a seat in a nearby lawn chair. Her white satin robe clung to every curve of her body and her black hair draped her shoulders like wild, tangled vines. The makeup she’d been wearing yesterday had been washed away and now he could see the true smoothness of her rosy-tan cheeks and the long silkiness of her lashes. Her lips reminded him of dark-pink roses, the kind his aunt Amelia used to grow in a sheltered corner of the big house garden.

  Nevada Ortiz was a naturally beautiful woman, he thought. Just like the rising of the sun in the azure New Mexican sky.

  “It wasn’t necessary to wake you,” he said after a moment.

  “You’ve been using your hands too much,” she scolded. “When I unwrap them this evening, I’d better not find that you’ve disturbed the skin, or you and I will both be in big-time trouble. I really don’t relish being chewed out by two doctors.”

  “Two doctors?”

  “Dr. Olstead and Dr. Hastings,” she explained.

  “Don’t worry,” he said with a faint frown. “I haven’t put a lot of pressure on my fingers. They feel fine. In fact, I think they’re a little more flexible this morning.”

  Studying him over the rim of her coffee cup, she was surprised to see he appeared relaxed this morning. The grim, tight expression he’d worn most of yesterday was gone and his green eyes were much softer. She was happy to see the change in him, yet at the same time she realized that like this, he was much more dangerous to her well-being.

  “Good. I’m glad. You’re going to be surprised how quickly you heal. I know it probably seems like you’ve been bundled up in bandages for a long time now. But later, when you look back on all of this, you’ll realize it wasn’t all that long. And it certainly beats being turned into a charred piece of toast.” She sipped her coffee, then glanced at him from the corner of her eye, “Do you think the fire was an accident?”

  He frowned as he continued to watch the glow of morning sunlight breaking over the red mesas. “I really don’t know. The barn was built back in the sixties and had been updated through the years. In fact, the electrical wiring was replaced only last year. I can’t imagine what might have set off the flames. But I can’t imagine anyone deliberately setting the building on fire. Not with helpless mares locked inside their stalls.” His jaw turned to granite. “But if it was arson, I’d want to kill the bastard.”

  The tone of his voice was just menacing enough to have Nevada studying him even closer. Even though he was man who kept to himself, she figured he wouldn’t be bashful about going after any one who’d crossed him.

  “Well,” she said. “I’m sure it was an accident.” She was silent a moment as she remembered the other well-publicized goings on at the T Bar K… “But so many things have happened on the T Bar K this past year it makes a person wonder if something else might be going on.”

  “Yeah. I thought the same, too.”

  Nevada thoughtfully turned her attention to her coffee and for the next few minutes the two of them sat in silence as the magpies sang from a nearby pine tree.

  The solitude of being in the mountains and alone with Linc was something altogether different for Nevada. Aztec wasn’t a busy metropolis by any means, but it was a darn sight more active than this place. At this time of the morning, she was usually already up and dressed and hurrying to work with one hand on the steering wheel while she tried to gulp down a cup of coffee with the other. Patients of all ages from cranky adults to crying babies would be crammed into the waiting room of the clinic and she would have to deal with each one kindly and methodically before Dr. Hastings made her entrance into the examining room.

  Every day was a busy day for Nevada. And not too many of her nights were spent alone in front of the television. More often than not, she went out with friends to a mov
ie or dinner, or a nearby concert. In her opinion, life was too fun and too short to spend it alone.

  Yet there was something cozy and extremely intimate about sitting here in the morning sun and wearing only a robe and pajamas while a sinfully sexy man lounged mere inches away. And the fact that his jeans and shirt weren’t buttoned only added to the pleasant picture around her.

  “I’m getting hungry,” he said suddenly. “Do you know how to cook breakfast?”

  So much for leisurely sipping her coffee, Nevada thought wryly. But then she wasn’t here to sit around admiring her patient. This was a job, not a romantic getaway.

  “Sure I do. My mother could hardly boil water, but my grandmother is a wonderful cook and she made me work in the kitchen from the time I was a small girl. She said a woman would never be out of a job if she knew how to cook.” Nevada tossed him a wry grin. “Thankfully, I’m past being the grill cook at the Wagon Wheel.”

  Surprise marked his face. “You worked at the Wagon Wheel as a cook?”

  Nodding, she carefully rose from the chair while balancing her coffee cup. “For about a year. Remember? I told you I worked in a café.”

  “Yeah. But I didn’t know your job was cook and I didn’t know it was at the Wagon Wheel. They always have good food.”

  She chuckled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. In a few minutes you can judge for yourself if I’ve lost my touch.”

  Nevada left him on the patio and went to her bedroom to dress. She wasn’t about to cook breakfast in her night clothes. That would be behaving too much like a wife. And she certainly didn’t want Linc to get the notion that she had that kind of idea about him or any man. Lord, what an embarrassing situation that would be.

  Pulling on a pair of blue jeans and a pale-yellow T-shirt that buttoned down the front, she fastened her long hair at the nape of her neck with a brown tortoiseshell barrette. After a quick dab of face powder and lipstick, she hurried out to the kitchen and began to assemble the fixings for breakfast.

  She was frying bacon and link sausage when she heard the back door open and close, then Linc’s footsteps grow closer and closer before they stopped somewhere behind her.