What The Rancher Wants... (Mills & Boon Modern)

by Monroe, Lucy

  Carlene carried the ice tea glasses into the kitchen and wondered if Win would come looking for her after he had spoken to Leah. Would he understand that Carlene was anxious to know the outcome of the telephone conversation?

  More importantly, would he want to share it with her as a man shared important things with a woman who was more than just an employee?

  Win sat down in his chair and stared at the number he’d written on a slip of paper by the phone. Carlene was right. He knew it. He had to call Leah. If for nothing else, but to make sure that she was okay. He inhaled deeply, trying to gather his thoughts. He wanted to express his concern for the kids without making Leah feel worse than she already did. It wasn’t going to be easy.

  He wished that he’d shown the same forethought before running off at the mouth at Carlene. He’d hurt her. When she went running from the courtyard, he’d been filled with fear. Part of him had known that if he let her go without making things right, he would lose his chance with her. She was already fighting a relationship with him for all she was worth.

  His idiotic comment that she was no more than an employee would give her ammunition in the war she waged against becoming his lover. He couldn’t risk losing her. So he had done something he rarely did—apologized. Then he’d tried to explain. That hadn’t been easy. He didn’t like analyzing his emotions and he hated talking about the past, but she needed to understand why he’d been so defensive.

  He didn’t know if she forgave him completely, but she had listened. She hadn’t pouted and she’d comforted him.

  She had been right. He was afraid that Leah was turning out like their mother. Carlene’s assertion that if his sister was considering ending her marriage, she’d have a darn good reason, rang true. Leah loved Mark. She loved her kids and she wasn’t just bored. Something was going on. Something serious. Win just wished he knew what it was.

  He picked up the phone and dialed.

  Carlene checked the clock on the bedside table for the third time in fifteen minutes. She had left her door cracked open so that Win wouldn’t assume she was asleep, but an hour had passed and he still hadn’t come. Could his conversation with Leah have lasted this long? Doubt gnawed at her. Maybe he didn’t see Carlene as someone with whom he could or should share his family’s problems.

  She’d pinned her hopes on the fact that he apologized for his outburst. She had believed he was truly sorry for hurting her, for implying she had no place in his life outside that of employee and perhaps casual bed partner.

  The soft knock sent hope surging through her. Jumping up off the bed, she called, “Come in.”

  Win pushed the door open wider and stepped inside. His face wore a more relaxed expression than she’d seen all evening. He smiled. “Hi. Mind if I come in and talk for a while?”

  Win in an asking mood pushed her a little off center.

  She indicated the chair and ottoman in the corner. “Uh, take a seat.”

  He pulled the ottoman away from the chair and straddled it, putting his hands on his knees.

  She edged around him and sat on the chair. “So how did the call to your sister go?” she asked, impatient to hear the details.

  “You were right. She needed to hear that the kids missed her. She’d gotten some crazy ideas in her head.”

  “Like what?” Carlene asked.

  “Like her husband and children didn’t really need her. That she was just a glorified housekeeper and nanny. Crazy stuff like that.”

  “She must really be hurting.”

  Win’s expression turned to one of concern. “Yeah. I think she is. She and Mark need to talk. I told her that.”

  “You did?” Carlene couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice. Win was not what one would consider a modern male with sensitivity training.

  “Yeah, I did. You don’t have to be a pop psychologist to know that a married couple needs to talk out their problems,” he said, indicating he had guessed her thoughts.

  She smiled. “No. You don’t. When is she coming back?”

  “It could be as early as tomorrow. I told her not to rush, but that the kids would be real happy when she got here.”

  He had said it just right. “You’re a nice man, Win.”

  “If you believe that, why won’t you go to bed with me?”

  After she recovered from the shock of his blunt query, Carlene frowned. “Don’t tell me that tactless questions like that have gotten you past first base before.”

  Win grinned. “I haven’t dated all that many women, but the ones I did didn’t seem to be bothered by my ‘lack of tact’.”

  Irritation at the mention of women in Win’s past made Carlene reckless. “What about your ex-wife? Did she have a problem with your lack of tact?”

  She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. She wished with all her heart she could call them back when Win’s expression of amused tolerance turned cold and stony. Darn it.

  When would she learn to control her tongue? “I’m sorry I asked that.”

  “Why? Don’t you want an answer?” His voice held no inflection, as if the discussion had no importance for him. His eyes told another story.

  “I don’t want you to feel obligated to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Of course she wanted to know about his ex-wife. What woman in Carlene’s position wouldn’t want to know about the one female that Win had been willing to take the risk of marriage on?

  He contemplated her answer for several long seconds. She began to fidget, shifting nervously in her chair. Resting his elbows on his thighs, he leaned forward and examined her eyes.

  Like a jackrabbit who sensed the presence of a predator, her entire body went still. What was he thinking? He kept his gaze fixed on her so long that the sound of his voice surprised her when he spoke.

  “By the time she left me, Rachel let me know that she pretty much hated everything about me, my lack of tact included.”

  Impossible. No woman could hate everything about this man. He had too much loyalty, too much honor; too much of what made a man a good man.

  She instinctively shook her head. “She must have been crazy.”

  He didn’t smile. He didn’t even blink. “Not crazy. Determined. She wanted out of this little hole-in-the-wall town and she thought I was her ticket out of here.”

  Carlene’s chest tightened. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s simple. Rachel married me, believing she could convince me to sell the ranch and stake her life in the big city. When she discovered that I had no desire to uproot Leah’s new life, or my own, Rachel made it clear that she found me lacking in just about everything. I wore my boots too scuffed and my hair too long. According to her, I was rude and uncouth. Toward the end, she couldn’t even stand me touching her at night. Not that I wanted to all that much. The town was just starting to attract a certain clientele for winter sports. She hitched her star to one of their hangers-on and left Sunshine Springs behind just like she wanted.”

  Pain for Win’s loss ripped through Carlene. His marriage sounded more like a civil war.

  “How long were you married?” She almost asked how long he’d had to endure Rachel.

  “Less than two years.”

  “All of that happened in less than two years?” She couldn’t keep the disbelief from her voice.

  His grim features relaxed into a smile. “Yeah. One thing you can say for me, when I screw up, I do it fast and well.”

  Carlene could not digest his attitude. “You didn’t screw up. You married her believing she wanted the same things from life that you did. It’s hardly your fault she lied to you. You must have loved her very much.”

  “I married her because I wanted a woman’s touch raising Leah and because I was tired of walking around with a perpetual hard-on. I told you, she made me wait for sex until we got married. I thought she was just an old-fashioned girl. Hell, she wasn’t even a virgin.”

  The self-disgust in Win’s voice tore at Carlene’s defenses. “Win, ther
e’s nothing wrong with your wanting a woman to help Leah through the difficult years of adolescence. It’s unfortunate that Rachel wasn’t interested in making you a proper wife or your sister a suitable mentor.”

  He stared at her as if she had just spoken in Portuguese. “Well, at least now you understand why I’m not going to jump into the trap of marriage again.”

  The certainty in his voice crushed the hope that had been blossoming since Win knocked on her bedroom door. How could she prove to him that marriage didn’t have to be a trap if he wouldn’t take a chance on it, on her? She needed more time than a short-term affair provided to prove that she wasn’t like his mother. Carlene wouldn’t get bored with him after six months.

  If he wouldn’t risk a committed relationship with her, how could Carlene show him that she wasn’t like Rachel either? She didn’t want him to give up his life and his roots in the community to make her happy and she knew that she would never grow immune to his touch. She couldn’t. She loved him.

  There was no point in denying the truth any longer. She was crazy in love with the stubborn, sexy rancher and her life was never going to be the same.

  “I understand that you got burned and that you are leery of committing yourself to another woman.”

  He leaned further forward until his blue eyes burned into her own. “Listen to me, Carlene. Listen close. I’m not just leery. I am not interested in marriage.”

  He spoke each word with precision, leaving her in no doubt that he meant exactly what he said. She would have to be a fool to believe that she might be able to change his mind. The earlier recklessness she had experienced returned. So what? Men and women had been doing foolish things in the name of love throughout history and it didn’t always end in heartache. Sometimes love conquered.

  She had to believe that this would be one of those times. She couldn’t accept the alternative—a future without Win.

  She reached out and wrapped her fingers around one of his fists. “But, you are interested in me.”

  He closed his eyes, his expression that of a man in pain. “Yes, honey. I want you so much it’s killing me.”

  She believed him.

  Reaching out with her other hand, she traced the line of his jaw. “Where will we end up in that whole range of possibilities between a one-night stand and marriage that you told me about?”

  His eyes flew open and she felt his muscles go battle-ready under her fingertips. “Are you saying that you’re willing to give us a try?”

  How odd that he would put it in those terms. To her way of thinking, it had been Win who refused to give them a chance. He didn’t see things that way. The knowledge gave her hope.

  “Maybe. I can’t promise anything, Win. You have to tell me where we’ll fit on that spectrum of possibilities first.”

  He turned his face and kissed the palm of her hand that rested against his cheek. “I guess just taking it one day at a time won’t work for you?”

  She shook her head. “I need some assurance that I’m not simply a convenient body.”

  He laughed, relieving some of the pent-up tension between them. “Honey, you are a ways from being convenient. That’s for damn sure.”

  She didn’t return his smile. She couldn’t. She had to know the answer. “Then what am I?”

  She was giving up her dreams to go back to teaching school for a chance with Win. A small town like Sunshine Springs was never going to hire an ex-bartender who was living with her lover to teach their children. She could practice discretion, she supposed, but doubted that would last very long. Besides, she didn’t want to hide her love for Win from the rest of the world. She had the feeling that he needed her public commitment as much as she needed to know where she stood with him.

  “You’re my woman.”

  She digested that. “For how long?”

  His eyes widened in shock. “You want me to put a time limit on our relationship?”

  “No.”

  “Then what do you want?” Frustration radiated off him in waves.

  What did she want? Some sort of commitment. A promise, but not marriage. She didn’t know. “You’re the one that said there’s all sorts of ground between a one-night stand and marriage. I just want to know what ground we’re talking about. Is that so much to ask?”

  “There is a lot of ground between the two. I’ve just never had to define it before,” he said with exasperation.

  Dread snaked through her. She pulled her hands from him and scooted back in the large chair. “Have you had a lot of situations where you might have had to, but they didn’t ask?”

  If she sounded confused, that was only fair. After all, she felt confused.

  “No! I told you. There haven’t been that many women.”

  “Believe it or not, your attitude is not helping to set my mind at ease,” she replied, her own frustration lacing her words.

  He smiled ruefully. “Look, honey, I don’t have a string of lovers in my past. It’s been so long since my last date that Shorty was starting to get worried.”

  Somewhat mollified, she nodded. “Okay, then. I can see that defining what our relationship is might be a little difficult for you. You obviously need some time to think about it.”

  He swore. “You aren’t going to let me make love to you tonight, are you?”

  She stood and indicated the door with her hand. “You need time and I’m willing to give it to you. Goodnight, Win. Go get some sleep.”

  He didn’t go. He stood too and towered over her, his entire body emanating male desire. He fixed her with a piercing blue gaze and settled his hands on her shoulders, the heat of his fingers burning through the cloth of her shirt.

  “What I need right now, honey, is you. The question is, are you ready to put me out of my misery?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  CARLENE shivered at the suppressed desire in Win’s voice.

  Was she willing to put him out of his misery? Was she willing to risk letting him make love to her without defining their relationship?

  His face took on a serious, almost feral, expression. “I don’t know the words for what we have, but I can show you, if you’ll let me.”

  She couldn’t speak. She wanted him so much and suddenly the idea of talking didn’t hold all that much appeal. He didn’t want marriage, but he did want her. Not a nameless, faceless woman to warm his body, but her. And she loved him.

  In all her dreams of love and a family, they never included this desperate edgy feeling. This despair and pain mixed with joy and desire. They might not be married, but she knew with every pulse of her heart that she belonged to him. Completely. Her heart. Her body. Her desire. They were all his. If she refused to let him make love to her, that would not change. If he made love to her tonight and then walked away tomorrow, that still wouldn’t change the truth of her love.

  She loved him.

  She needed him.

  She wanted him.

  His thumbs brushed the sensitive skin of her neck up to the underside of her chin. “Please. Let me make you mine tonight.”

  For the second time that night, her proud, arrogant cowboy was reduced to pleading with her.

  She reached up and curled her fingers over his wrists, awed by the strength that held her so gently. “Yes, Win.”

  His eyes turned stormy blue and his nostrils contracted. He didn’t waste time asking if she were sure or saying anything else at all. He closed the distance between their mouths and locked his over hers in a possessive kiss that shook her to her toes. Flicking his tongue over the seam of her lips, he silently demanded entry into her mouth.

  She gave it without so much as a thought.

  She expected him to sweep her mouth with branding passion, but, from the moment he entered her mouth, his kiss gentled. He explored her with lazy thoroughness letting her adjust to his possession while she relearned his taste.

  Wanting more, but not knowing how to get it, she released his wrists and tunneled her fingers into the black silk of his ha
ir. She tugged against his head while trying to press her body against his. The hold on her shoulders prevented her. She moaned in protest.

  Now that she’d decided to make love to Win, she wanted it all. Immediately.

  He refused to be rushed and kept going with that slow, tantalizing kiss. Heavens, the man knew how to use his mouth to advantage. Her nipples grew tight and aching, though he hadn’t so much as touched them. The confines of her bra and shirt seemed too much all of a sudden. She wanted them off.

  Now.

  She tried to let Win know without breaking that incredible kiss. She squirmed. She made needy little sounds low in her throat, but she couldn’t make herself break contact with his lips. Maybe if she touched him, he’d get the idea.

  Reluctantly, she slid her fingers from his hair; mourning the loss of one erotic touch even as she lowered her hands to grasp his shirt near the waistband of his jeans. She tugged until she could get her hands under the hem. She brushed his stomach and the muscles under her fingers tightened convulsively.

  Win growled and let go of her shoulders to yank her closer, trapping her hands between their bodies. The relief of having her breasts crushed against the work-hardened muscles of his chest was short-lived. It just wasn’t enough.

  She wanted skin on skin, but couldn’t even move her hands against the bare skin of belly, he held her so tight.

  She forced herself to tear her mouth from his. “Please, Win. I need…I want…” She couldn’t make herself say it.

  She’d never made love with a man. Her experiences with Win were the closest she’d ever come and she didn’t know how to tell him she wanted him to touch her body.

  He rocked against her, sending jolts of pleasure rocketing through her feminine core. “What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

  “I can’t,” she wailed.

  He let his hands slide down to cup her bottom and squeezed.

  Oh, my goodness, that felt good.

  “Sure you can, honey. Tell me what you want.”