Memories of their interlude in the pantry taunted her. Of course. He must have taken liberties with a lady and her family was forcing him to do the honorable thing.
If that was the case, how very sad for both of them.
However, that was even more reason to make the house as festive and cheery as possible. Despite the fact that Reid was playing the part of a curmudgeon, she felt it her duty as housekeeper to create a pleasant atmosphere for the bride.
With renewed purpose, Ellie set about making a list of what she’d need to turn this drab house into a sparkling jewel for the holiday wedding. Christmas was the most wondrous time of the year.
She loved this season. She loved her pa and was not going to let his cold reception darken her spirits or deter her. And she certainly wasn’t going to allow herself to get moon-eyed over the groom ever again.
Reid sat at his desk drumming impatient fingers on the smooth surface. He should be drafting a letter to the potential buyer for his yearling thoroughbreds to confirm if the man was still interested. Instead, he was stewing over that confrontation with Miss Ellie Jo Cade.
She was a pushy one.
What the hell made her think that cluttering his house up with decorations would brighten his mood? Nothing was going to do that. Not whiskey. Not a willing woman. Not even the probability of him gaining his freedom by chucking it all here and now.
He was damned. Simple as that. When he looked in the mirror, he saw the man who’d betrayed the only friends he had by trusting Burl Erston to save his hide from hanging, and the ranch from bankruptcy. He saw a young woman lying in the street, dead. He saw the trust in his benefactor’s eyes long after Reid had broken his promise to him by landing them all in this fix.
Burl Erston believed he had Reid over a barrel, that he was forcing his hand now. But the man couldn’t be more wrong.
Reid’s conscience was driving him to marry Cheryl. It had goaded him into letting it be known that he was back on the Crown Seven and was ready to face Dade and Trey, and anyone else he’d wronged.
He’d be a married man in seven days. God help him.
He scrubbed a hand over his nape and swore. Cheryl would be here any day now. Though it pained him to admit it, Miss Cade was right about one thing.
The house ought to look festive and welcoming for Cheryl. He owed that much to her, and to her father.
He pushed to his feet and headed across the room. Hell, with his luck, Miss Cade was one of them that went caroling.
He found her in the parlor, staring at the room and tapping a finger on her tooth. In fact she was so deep in thought he was sure she hadn’t heard him come in.
He should’ve known better.
“If you’ve come to apologize for that tyrannical act earlier,” she said, still not looking at him, “then I accept.”
His fingers fisted, but he slammed a lid on his irritation and proceeded with why he’d sought her out. “You want to go with me when I cut down your pine tree?”
That brought her gaze to his. “You’re willing to take me along to pick it out?”
That wasn’t what he’d said or meant, but what the hell. A tree was a tree to him.
“Might as well get what you want,” he said. “I figured if we left now we’d be back in time for dinner.”
Her narrow shoulders drooped. “If I go, who will prepare your dinner?”
“I can grab a bite with the men,” he said, nearly losing his train of thought as he caught the excitement in her eyes. “Hubert can fend for himself once.”
“Excellent!” She hurried into the hall. “I’ll just be a moment grabbing my cloak.”
He smiled at her enthusiasm and headed toward the back door. “I’ll hitch up the sleigh and meet you around back.”
Reid shrugged into his sheepskin coat and pushed outside. He wasn’t going to question the wisdom in going off alone with Miss Cade. Nope, he knew why he wanted to get her alone, and it didn’t have a thing to do with collecting greenery or a tree.
By the time he readied the sleigh and headed toward the house, Miss Cade was waiting for him on the terrace. He started to get out to help her in, but she waved away his help.
“I can manage,” she said, and matched action to words.
He settled the heavy buffalo robe over her lap, then gave the lines a snap. Bells jingled as the sleigh took off with a slight jerk.
“Will we have to go far to find a good tree?” she asked.
He motioned to the mountains in the near distance. “A good fifteen-minute drive there and back. Should be able to find a decent tree in no time.”
Forty minutes later Reid was chewing on those words and not liking the taste one damned bit. Miss Cade wasn’t just wanting a nice six-foot tree. She was determined to find the perfect pine tree among the hundreds here.
He stamped his cold feet and glared at her. “What’s wrong with this one?”
She gave it a critical eye. “It’s a bit sparse.”
So was his patience. “Won’t that give you more space for decorations and such?”
“I suppose it could.” She turned away from him and walked off. “This one has possibilities.”
Reid swallowed a curse and stomped over to her, hoping to hell she’d finally found the right tree. “You want this one?”
“I’m thinking.”
“That’s what I get for hauling you along,” he muttered under his breath.
She shot him a damning glare, then turned her attention back to the tree. “Look! It’s got pinecones on it.”
“That good or bad?” he asked, because if she wanted them off there, he’d be more than happy to oblige her.
Anything to get her to pick a damned tree so he could cut it down and get back to the ranch before they both froze to death.
“I like them,” she said at last, and then favored him with such a bright smile that he damned near forgot to breathe. “This is the one.”
Reid tore his gaze from her and stared at the tree that looked no different than the other pines dotting this slope. Hell, there was just no figuring how a woman’s mind worked.
He dropped on his knees and scraped the snow away from the tree so he could get to the trunk. Even then he had to lie on his gut so he could cut it down close to the ground like she wanted.
He gritted his teeth against the cold and wet seeping into his bones, but the work kept his mind off the enticing woman standing far too close to him. But not for long.
In no time, he’d chopped down the tree and had it loaded on the sleigh. It was just him and her and wild thoughts about getting warm under a buffalo robe.
“Let’s get back to the ranch.”
“Wait! I need evergreen boughs for my festoons,” she said.
Damn! Thoughts of her haggling over which boughs to cut made his head pound.
“How many?” he heard himself ask and wondered if the cold had frozen his brain.
She frowned, and he knew before she spoke that he wasn’t going to like her answer one little bit. “At least two dozen.”
“Let’s make this easy and chop down another tree.”
“I suppose that’s the wisest thing,” she said, but he was already in the process of cutting another pine half as big as the first one.
That ought to give her enough evergreen to cover every shelf in his house.
His fingers were stiff and numb by the time he hefted the second tree onto the back of the sleigh. “Now can we go home?”
“We certainly can,” she said, and her wistful smile wasn’t lost on him.
Once she was settled in the sleigh, he climbed in beside her and clapped his hands in an attempt to thaw them some. Bits of ice flew everywhere.
“Good heavens, why didn’t you tell me your hands were near freezing?” she asked.
He frowned. “They aren’t that bad.”
She gave an unladylike snort and grabbed his hands, sending pinpricks dancing over his palms. “They’re like ice, but at least they aren’t wet thro
ugh.”
“More reason to head home now.” Because sitting in a sleigh with her holding his hands was heating him up below the belt.
“We will once we take the chill off your hands,” she said, and before he could voice an objection, she tugged his gloved hands between her thighs and clamped them tight like a vise to heaven.
At least a heaven he longed to see and feel and taste.
His heart stuttered to a stop while his mind raced with what she’d boldly done. She couldn’t be that naïve, but the concern in her expressive eyes and the firming of her kissable mouth proved she was dead serious about warming his hands.
They still felt like chunks of ice, but the rest of him was heating up damned fast. Didn’t matter that even if he had feeling in his fingers besides pins and needles, there was yards of petticoats and stiff skirt that barred him from stroking her skin.
That’s what he longed to do. It’d been a long time since he’d felt this pull toward a woman. It was so strong he didn’t think about anything but satisfying his baser needs. It was so powerful he damn near forgot his vow to marry Cheryl.
He should have pulled his hands from her then and there, for fat flakes of snow had begun falling again. Instead, he curled his fingers around her thighs.
She stiffened, and that jolt of awareness shot from her into him. Her eyes were huge and turning smoky and clearly surprised that something she’d started with innocent intentions was fast turning intimate.
“I want you,” he said, intrigued by the snow that caught on her hair, her thickly curled lashes, her full ripe lips.
She swallowed, and the pulse in her neck warbled. “You can’t. You’re engaged.”
“That doesn’t stop the wanting.”
He leaned close to steal a kiss, pausing long enough for her to pull away from him. But she didn’t move. She just stared at him with those big eyes full of wonder and passion.
His head dipped to hers, and he kissed the snow from her eyes, her nose, before settling over her mouth. Hers trembled slightly, and he felt that hesitation clear to his soul.
A gentleman would have ended it now. He should’ve apologized for his boldness. For taking advantage of the situation.
But Reid was no gentleman.
He was a bastard, and he intended to take all that Ellie Jo Cade was willing to give him. Still, he kept his hands trapped between her thighs amid all that fabric that deprived him of exploring her as he longed to do.
There was something wickedly alluring about just kissing her. It seemed more intimate, like a stolen moment that was as fresh as the new-fallen snow.
She tasted of frosty winters and just a hint of spice. She was the dessert he’d hungered for. He damn sure wasn’t going to content himself with a sampling.
He deepened the kiss, and she leaned into him and moaned as if welcoming him home. He took his time, his tongue coaxing hers to duel, their breaths mingling as one.
But what jolted through him like lightning and set his blood on fire was when her hands stole onto his thigh. She didn’t squeeze or stroke or rub him. Just let her small, gloved hand rest on his leg. But that connection was the most erotic thing he’d felt in ages.
Sweat gathered on his brow and his crotch got a bit tighter than comfort allowed. This was do-or-die time. He’d have to take her here in the sleigh, or stop kissing her.
She pulled away from him, her eyes drowsy and her lips red and plumped from his kisses. “Please. We have to go home.”
He wanted to read more into it, but she wasn’t making any assignation for later. They’d had their stolen moment, and he suspected she’d agonize over what they’d done.
Not him.
He wanted her, and if the opportunity arose, he’d take her next time.
Chapter 6
She’d behaved shamelessly.
That realization played over and over in Ellie Jo’s head during the short, tense drive back to the ranch. She failed to appreciate the beauty around her, made more magical by the fact that soft snow danced in the air like an enchanting snow globe she’d once seen on display in Denver. She couldn’t even take pleasure in imaging how she’d decorate the house with all the evergreen she needed, or the joy she’d experience decking the wondrous tree Reid had cut down.
All she could think of was his mouth moving on hers. The firm, seductive strength that had surrounded her, though only their lips touched, was unlike anything she’d experienced in her life. The slightly tart taste of his kiss and the heat of a powerful man that had her sweating beneath her corset.
Her own boldness in heeding the vixen in her and laying her hand on his leg.
She’d never felt such strength—such blatant masculinity so well defined. His strong muscles had clenched beneath her palm and had her scrunching her own thighs in an instinct she’d recognized, but had never dreamed would happen to her.
The groan that had escaped him evoked an answering moan of surrender in her. He was as aroused as she.
She had only to move her hand up his thigh to touch his erection. She’d surely wanted to, so badly she shook with the need. And why shouldn’t she?
She’d lost her virtue, so she had nothing to lose. She’d never had such a wickedly tempting thought in her life than to boldly invite Reid Barclay to take them where they both wanted to go, and realizing that popped the erotic bubble she’d been floating in.
No matter how wondrous this fiery attraction felt, it was all wrong.
Reid Barclay was affianced to another woman. Oh, he’d cut down the tree and boughs for Ellie, but he’d done it so his house would be festive for his holiday wedding. His wedding!
She stole a glance at the man beside her and felt her face flame with embarrassment. My God, she’d been ready to toss her skirts up for a stranger.
Despite what Mrs. Leach had told her about Reid Barclay, she knew nothing about him. Who was he really? Cowboy or gentleman?
The answer was obvious. Neither!
He’d kissed her senseless again without much provocation. She was certain he’d have gone further if she’d encouraged him.
This cowboy needed no encouragement. Reid Barclay was nothing more than a philandering rogue. She’d known that the moment she’d first met him in the saloon.
That was another thing that should have alerted her to his character. The man had spent the night in Mallory’s Roost.
Why, he was the worst sort for an impressionable woman.
She knew that, yet she’d fallen victim to his charisma. Her body was still humming with desire, even knowing the type of man he was.
Yes, that admission said it all.
Ellie had taken great pains to explain the pitfalls of such nefarious men to her charges in the Denver Academy for Young Ladies. She herself had fallen victim before and she’d vowed she’d do all she could to ensure other innocents didn’t fall victim to such men.
She could not turn a blind eye now.
His betrothed was coming here with stars in her eyes and love swelling her heart. The poor girl must think she was marrying an honest man. A man who’d honor her all his days. A man who’d give her a home and family. A man who’d stand by her side if and when the storms of adversity blew their way.
Ellie curled her fingers into fists inside her muff as the sleigh topped the rise and the ranch spread into view. Yes, she knew the schemes such men employed.
She’d believed Irwin had been that honest man for her, for he’d said and done all the right things. He’d asked her to be his wife. So she’d not protested when their amorous forays went beyond propriety.
They were, after all, going to marry within the month. She believed she’d spend that night, and all those following until she or he left this earth, with Irwin.
She’d believed she could trust him with her darkest secret, for she’d thought a man of such integrity would understand her dilemma regarding those rare surreptitious meetings with her father, who just happened to be a notorious outlaw. How horribly wrong she’d been!
Well, she’d vowed then that she’d not let another woman suffer such indignity if she could help it. Never mind that she hadn’t realized until after the fact that she hadn’t truly loved Irwin as a wife should.
No man should trifle with a woman’s affections, or cite her parentage as a reason to toss her aside. No man should make a woman make a terrible choice between marriage or disowning her father, and then persecute her for the only decision she could make.
Ellie well knew this type of man. She had vowed to instruct young ladies on how to avoid these rogues, and she would do no less now.
She took a bolstering breath as he guided the sleigh toward the house. “That was wrong of you to kiss me.”
“Then why did you kiss me back?” he asked.
Of course he’d point that shortcoming out to her. “Why doesn’t matter. I am your employee, not your mistress.”
“You could be.”
Those three words pulsed between them, leaving her shaking with anger at herself and him. Wealthy men were more inclined to take a lover. And hadn’t Irwin suggested she do just that now that she was a ruined lady?
“I am going to pretend you didn’t say that,” she said as he secured the lines with strong, deft hands.
Though the idea of being Reid’s lover appealed to her far more than it should, she’d not toss aside her career to be a rich man’s paramour. She’d not be the scarlet woman.
If she couldn’t find a good man to marry—she was growing less certain that breed of man existed—she’d spend the rest of her days instilling in young ladies the rewards of living a fulfilling moral life.
He climbed from the sleigh without a comment and came round to give her a hand. A secret thrill went through her as she laid her hand in his.
Those long, strong fingers closed over hers, and her heart skipped a beat. Maybe two. For though his touch was perfectly proper, the blatant desire in his eyes spoke volumes.
He led her to the terrace and released her hand, giving the image of the perfect gentleman. She knew it was an illusion and yet she mourned his withdrawal.
This man was dangerous to be around, for his illicit need kindled the same craving in her. How in the world would she get through the next week in his company and retain her dignity?
A Cowboy Christmas Page 7
