Maggie felt his erection pressed against her stomach and she moaned, willing him to lead her to the hayloft and possess her fully. “Oh, Ben, I—”
“Hey, guys, anyone home?” Jeb’s footsteps sounded on the barn floor, and they broke apart, breathless and red-faced.
Ben turned to greet the younger man, holding his jacket at his waist to hide his arousal. Maggie moved to adjust Tabasco’s halter, her eyes unable to meet her assistant’s.
Jeb’s eyes moved from one to the other, his expression bemused. “Sorry, guys. Should I come back in a few?”
Maggie handed the reins to Jeb. “Don’t be ridiculous! Let’s get him outside. Rider’ll be here any minute.”
Jeb led Tabasco out, giving Ben a wink as he passed by.
When horse and trainer disappeared, Maggie stared at Ben, not sure whether to laugh or cry.
“Well, that was interesting.” Ben grinned at her, and they both burst out laughing. “Listen,” she muttered, “I’ve got to get out there.”
As she moved past, he touched her arm. “What I should have said is that it was more than interesting. We still on for lunch?”
“I don’t know. This is starting to make me a little crazy.“
“Me, too, but look, we’ve got to eat. I’ve got Carmela making us a picnic. We’ll take a ride, eat, and get you back in no time.”
The morning flew by. Maggie and Jeb welcomed Carl Delgado, the Border Patrol agent, and introduced him to Tabasco. Today was for paperwork and getting acquainted. Delgado, a seasoned agent and experienced rider, took a long look when he spied the massive draft horse.
“You gotta be kidding. Never seen a mustang that looked like that.”
Maggie laughed. “Clearly there was some outbreeding in Tabasco’s case.”
“We think a renegade from a traveling circus might’ve found his mama,” Jeb said.
“Or one of Budweiser’s team.” Delgado pushed his wide-brimmed Stetson back to take a full view of his new ride. “You guys sure about this?”
“He’s gentle as a lamb, but we have a backup if you guys don’t click. We’ve been working with Pearl for a couple of months. She’s a favorite of the owner’s daughter, but she’s available, if you’d feel more comfortable.”
The tall, burly man in tee shirt, black jeans, and worn Justin boots scratched his head. “I’m willing to give him a shot, but can I take a look at Pearl anyway?”
Maggie signaled to Jeb, who disappeared into the barn and returned a few minutes later with a brown-and-white pinto, a beauty that stood at least five hands below Tabasco. Ruthie had already fallen in love with her. In truth, Ruthie rarely had time to ride, but her father promised if Pearl went south, they’d find another painted horse for her. “Now, she’s more like it.” Delgado stepped forward without hesitation to nuzzle Pearl’s nose and scratch her ears. “Can I?”
Jeb gave him his arm for support ,and the short, compact man easily mounted Pearl, settling into the saddle, adjusting the reins and stirrups. It was clear Delgado had found his mount. Maggie watched rider and horse, knowing with certainty that Tabasco was no longer in the picture. Secretly she was glad, as she would have liked nothing better than to hold on to the gentle giant. She might be a bit afraid of him, but he had already captured her heart.
* * *
Chapter 18
Ben arrived slightly before one, backpack over his shoulder. Maggie noticed he had shed his denim shirt in the midday heat. Every ripple of chest and arm muscle was outlined by the faded blue tee shirt he wore over jeans that fit him like a glove. Oh, boy, this is going to be a lunch to remember! Maggie waved and headed in to wash up.
When she returned, he and Jeb had saddled two of the ranch’s sorrels, Tara and Raine. “You guys have fun, now,” Jeb said, grinning as he gave Raine a swat on her rump.
Maggie was relieved that Harley had gone up to the Lodge. One smirking bystander was quite enough!
They rode up into the foothills on a well-worn trail that led to the ranch’s high meadows. Soon those meadows would be home to the sheep now grazing in the lower fields. The deserted fields, green and verdant, stretched as far as the eye could see. The mountains that surrounded them were dotted with thousands of saguaro cactuses and scrub. They rode in silence, neither daring to start a conversation, the searing memories of the morning’s encounter still fresh. Finally, Ben spoke as he pointed to their right, at a towering desert willow that stood at the edge of the meadow.
“What d’ya think? Good spot?”
Maggie nodded and guided Tara toward the shady grass. He spread a blanket and opened the pack as she settled beside him. “We used to have a swing on this tree. Wonder what happened to it?” He gazed up, eyes locked with hers.
Maggie shrugged, her breath caught in her throat. Stay calm. Breathe, Maggie. “Must’ve been a while ago, ’cause I’ve ridden by and never seen it.”
He watched her fiddling with Tara’s reins, patting her, whispering softly to the perfectly calm horse. She looks like a scared rabbit. Better back off a bit or risk losing her, Morgan. “You hungry?”
“Starved,” she replied, only partially referring to the food.
“Well, then, let’s see what Carmela’s whipped up for us.” As he began to pull out the sandwiches and a thermos of iced tea, she leaned forward and rested her hand on his forearm. She was trembling, but she had to touch him to ground herself, as if his heat would calm her frayed, raging emotions.
Surprised, he turned to her, food forgotten as he saw the desire in her soft doe eyes. Instantly his arms circled her, and he drew he close. “Oh, my Lord, woman, the last few hours have been torture for me.”
“Me, too.” She reached up to caress his jaw. What are you doing, Maggie Williams? was the last coherent thought she had before his lips captured hers and she was lost.
His tongue plunged and delved, hers entwining, teasing, returning his kisses. Sure hands slipped under her tee shirt and cupped her firm, rounded breasts. His fingers circled and teased her nipples to hardness as he reached around and unclasped her bra, slipping it and her tee shirt off with one fluid motion. Maggie did the same with his shirt. For an instant, they stared at each other in wonder.
“My God, you’re beautiful.” Voice husky, Ben drank in the sight of her as Maggie hands ran over his hard, rippled chest, then boldly moved lower.
The size of his erection nearly brought her to climax as Ben began to unbutton her jeans.
“My darling Maggie, I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you.”
“Take me, then,” she whispered as they divested each other of their remaining clothes.
His fingers moved over her alabaster skin, untouched by the sun like the rest of her, until he caressed her inner thighs, fingers entering her, finding her wet with desire, more than ready for him. Wanting to pleasure her first, he plunged his fingers in again and again, teasing and stroking her. Instinctively he knew what would send her over the edge, and she climaxed in a clashing moment of pure delirium.
Ben gazed down at her lovely face, transfixed by ecstasy, and knew he was in love. For the first time in his life, he understood what it meant to be hopelessly lost in love for another human being.
“My beautiful sweetheart.” He sighed and drew her closer, watching as she touched him, fingers stroking lazily at first, then moving faster, until her touch had aroused him to the edge of madness.
“Take me now,” she said. “Please, Ben. I need you inside me.”
“Condom?”
“On the pill.”
“That’s my darling.”
Maggie gasped as he slipped her body beneath him, widening her legs and plunging deeply, his moves gentle at first. She matched him thrust by thrust. “Am I hurting you, sweetheart?” He gazed down at the beauty beneath him, his dark eyes soft with passion.
“Never.” Her body seemed to draw him in, inviting him to go deeper. Her slender legs entwined his hips as she met him, urged him harder, deeper, until she climaxed again, Be
n following her in perfect synchrony.
He groaned, “Oh, my God,” then moved to rest on his side, taking her with him, never wanting to sever their intimate connection. “It’s never—I’ve never—oh, my God, Maggie. Thank you.” He regarded her, his brown eyes gentle and full of concern. “Are you okay?”
She rewarded him with a dazzling smile that took his breath away. “More than okay.”
“You sure we were protected?” he asked, then realized he didn’t care. Creating a child with this woman would be an amazing gift.
“I’m sure. I’m on the pill, not because I’m a loose woman. I have irregular cycles. This keeps them regular and predictable. Oops, probably more than you wanted to know.”
“I want to know everything about you, darlin’.”
Ben nuzzled her neck.
“Mmm.” She met his lips for a loving kiss. As the kiss deepened, Ben found himself growing hard again, and her smile widened. “Why, Mr. Morgan, I do believe we may have some unfinished business.” Gently she moved to take him deeper, her inner woman caressing and teasing as she moved closer, then withdrew. As his erection grew, he slowly plunged deeper. They gazed into one another’s eyes as they scaled new heights and moved to a roaring simultaneous climax.
Afterward they dozed, still connected, arms entwined, until a hawk screeched overhead.
Maggie stirred, rising on one elbow. “What time is it?”
He nuzzled against her. “Who cares?”
“I do. I have to pick up Emma at three!”
“Shush.”
He nibbled her ear as he reached an arm over his head to check his watch. “Just short of two. We’ll eat something, then head back.”
Satiated, neither felt much like eating, but they shared a fragrant mushroom and goat cheese sandwich, made with one of Carmela’s fresh baguettes and a hint of her special sauce.
“Heaven,” Maggie moaned, wiping a drop of sauce from her chin.
“Oh, no, my sweet. Carmela’s a fine cook, but heaven’s where you’ve just taken me. There’s a world of difference.”
As they dressed, grabbing bites of sandwich, Maggie looked over, marveling at his gorgeous body. “This was crazy. You know that, don’t you?”
“Crazy amazing.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, your mom’s trying to marry you off to Rose Dillon or just about any single girl from here to Albuquerque.”
“Ah, but what you don’t understand, my lovely desert flower, is that my mother hasn’t a clue what I like or whom. Whatever she wants, I’ve always wanted the opposite.”
Maggie pulled down her tee, giving him a look. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“Now, now…don’t get all uppity, Ms. Williams. I just mean, my mother is not me. Oh, and that reminds me. I’d like to invite you and Emma to dinner tonight. Your dad, too, if he’d like to come. My parents insisted.”
“Yeah, right. Thanks, but we’ll pass. And I can’t see your mom being enthusiastic about such an idea.”
“She is, and you’re coming. Please, Maggie, if we’re going to be seeing each other, you’ll have to see them. Let’s get it over with now.”
“Now that really sounds appealing.”
“Please say you’ll come.”
“Is that what we’re doing, seeing each other?”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know. Boss’s son, back from the big city, remembers a roll in the hay and decides to rekindle it for a roll in the hay?”
Ben sat back as if she’d struck him. “Is that what you think?”
Embarrassed to see the hurt in his eyes and know her words had caused it, she said, “Look, I’m sorry.”
Unable to meet his gaze, she stared at the ground, emotions roiling. Finally she looked up to find the beautiful chestnut eyes, so like his daughter’s, waiting expectantly. “It’s just, you’re you and I’m me. Morgans don’t see girls like me. They see doctors and lawyers and heiresses, people like Rose Dillon.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s true.”
He reached forward and grasped her hand. “Maggie, I know what you’re doing. You’re scared, and I don’t blame you. First your Ivy League boyfriend abandons you and Emma. Then you have to take care of her all by yourself. No wonder you’re a little shy when it comes to men, but I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yet.”
“I’m here for a while. Let’s just see where this goes. This is not a roll in the hay for me, I promise. Please come to dinner. It’ll be fun.”
Maggie laughed and squeezed his hand. “Yeah, right, like a fork in the eye.”
“Please say yes.”
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. And at the first sign of trouble, I’m giving you a signal and we’re out of there. If you don’t agree, we’re not coming.”
“You have my word.” He leaned forward and claimed one more deep, lingering kiss. Then he stood, took her hand, and lifted her up, strong arms encircling her for one last embrace.
“How am I ever going to ride?” she asked, laughing and wincing as he helped into the saddle.
* * *
Chapter 19
Ben arrived right on time. It was Ned’s poker night, so he had declined the dinner invitation. As Ben drove up, he was heading out.
“Take care of my girls.” The older man smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and Ben spied a challenge there. You hurt my girls and I’ll come after you.
“You got it. Believe me, at the first sign of distress, we’ll make our escape.”
Ned laughed. “Hope that’s not necessary. I’m trustin’ you, son. They’re everything to me. Come on, let’s get the car seat in.”
By the time the two men had installed the car seat in the Rover, Maggie and Emma appeared, the child agog with excitement and her mother pale as a ghost. Ben paused, hating to see her in distress, and wondered if he should call and cancel. After Emma was strapped in, Maggie shut the door and brushed a lock of hair from her face. She had worn it down, the way he loved it, soft waves framing her slender, lovely face. Dressed in a light summer dress that hugged her rounded breasts and slim waist, the pale peach floral skirt flaring to just above her knees, she looked good enough to eat. Strappy high-heeled sandals had replaced her cowboy boots, and he marveled at her long, lithe legs and graceful ankles.
“You look incredible.”
“Thank you.” Maggie’s heart skipped several beats as her tall, rugged lover turned to her. His blue cotton dress shirt was open at the collar, and he wore black jeans and what looked like brand-new boots. If only they were headed for a country dance instead of her employers’ fortress on the hill.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “You sure? I can call and say something’s come up.”
Hands on hips, she stared at him. “Now you ask me! Did you see Emma’s face? She’s practically been jumping out of her skin all afternoon, she’s so excited. We don’t get out much, and she’s only been to the ranch once, when she was too young to remember.”
His hand grazed the small of her back as he ushered her around and opened the jeep door. “Well, we’ll just have to change that, starting tonight.”
* * *
Chapter 20
A group awaited them on the wide front porch as Ben eased the Rover in next to the Dillons’ SUV. “Here goes nothing,” he said as he leaped out and grabbed Emma’s chair.
Ben Senior and Rose came to greet them. She gave Ben a quick hug, and his father bent to kiss Maggie’s cheek.
“Hello, hello! Two of my favorite young women!” His son lifted Emma, and the older man gave the child a quick pat and a kiss. “Set her down, boy. I’ll take her from here.”
Maggie watched the proceedings, then turned to Rose. “Hello.”
“It’s been a long while.” Rose stepped forward to hug her, and Maggie returned the woman’s warm embrace.
“Yes, it has.”
They followed
the men, who had lifted Emma’s chair to carry her up the porch steps.
Like Ben, Rose Dillon was eight years older than Maggie and had attended a private school in Tucson from middle school on. The Dillons’ property was south of Saguaro, and they tended to socialize and shop in Tucson, so Maggie knew very little about the slender, blonde woman. Rose looked elegant in beige linen slacks, a white linen shell, and matching linen flats, and her silver-and-turquoise jewelry beautifully complimented her understated but clearly expensive ensemble.
Maggie suddenly felt cheap and common. What am I doing here? They belong together. The perfect couple.
“Welcome, welcome,” Leonora Morgan cried, opening her arms to hug Emma, then Maggie. Martha and Jay Dillon stood up to shake hands with Maggie before turning to bestow a more effusive greeting on the prodigal son.
Jay Dillon slapped Ben’s back. “So good to see you, son! Back to stay, we hope?”
Ben Senior draped his arm over Maggie’s shoulders. “What can I get you to drink, darlin’?”
Leonora waved her glass. “We’re all having gin and tonics.”
Maggie hesitated, and the kind man patted her back.
“We’ve got everything, sweetheart. White wine? Red? Beer? Soft drink?” He winked at Emma. “I bet you’d like a soda, wouldn’t you, honey? Coke, orange, root beer, Sprite?”
“Orange soda, please.”
Emma gave him one of her hundred-watt smiles and the older man stopped, frozen, staring from the child to his son. It was less than thirty seconds, but to Maggie, it felt like an eternity. Her heart raced, wondering if Emma’s grandfather had recognized what she had worked so hard to conceal.
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