He joined her at the work counter, and for the next few minutes the two of them were like kids in a toy store as they inspected the enormous amount of drugs and veterinary supplies stacked inside the cabinets.
“We’ve kept the drug cabinet locked. I only opened it this morning because I knew you were coming,” Laramie told Russ. “Now that you’re here, I’m handing the key over to you.”
Russ thanked him and pocketed the pair of ringed keys. “Do you think it’ll be necessary for me to keep it locked?” Russ asked him. “I don’t want the ranch hands to think I consider them thieves. And there will be times that I’m not here that you’ll need certain medications.”
Laramie shook his head. “We have a great group of honest men here, Russ. They understand that you can’t leave narcotics sitting about. Otherwise, we’ll figure out what to do if an emergency arises and you’re not here.”
“Don’t worry,” Laurel couldn’t help but add, “Russ will always be here. He doesn’t do anything else but work.”
The foreman exchanged an amused look with Russ. “She sounds like she knows you.”
Russ grunted. “She only thinks she knows me.”
He was right about that, Laurel thought, as she followed the two men into a sparkling operating room. After five years of working with the man, Laurel had believed that she knew Russ. But in the past couple of weeks, he’d taken her by complete surprise. Not only had he shocked her with this move to the Chaparral, he’d stunned her with his kisses and the insinuation that he wanted to have some sort of relationship with her.
A few minutes later, Laramie left them on their own, and as she joined Russ on another leisurely tour through the work area, the last pangs of lingering nostalgia she was carrying for the old clinic dissolved at the eager and pleased expression on Russ’s face.
When an old door closes, you have to believe that a new and better one will open. Reena’s words seemed especially fitting, Laurel thought. Russ had worked so hard for so many years. He deserved this special clinic and all the benefits that went with it.
As he stood looking over one of the treatment tables, Laurel felt compelled to move closer, and once she was at his side, she laid a hand on his arm. The contact drew his gaze to hers and she gave him a small smile.
“I’m very happy for you, Russ. You deserve all of this.”
The soft light in his eyes said her words had touched him, and the notion filled her with a strange sort of joy.
“I’m not so sure I deserve it,” he told her. “But thanks for the thought.”
With a gentle shake of her head, she said, “Yes. You do deserve it. Because now that you’ve made a commitment, I know that you’ll give this ranch all of yourself. Just like you did with the clinic in town.”
Something flickered in his eyes before he turned to fully face her. “Not all of me, Laurel,” he corrected, his voice suddenly going low and husky. “Part of me needs more than work. Part of me needs you.”
She drew in a sharp breath, and though the tone of his voice warned her to step back and away from him, she was too mesmerized to do anything but stare up at him.
“Russ— I—” She nervously licked her lips and started again. “Didn’t you hear a word I said the other night?”
One corner of his lips curved upward. “Didn’t you hear anything I said?”
She swallowed. “I was serious.”
“So was I,” he murmured.
Groaning, she said, “You clearly have your wants and your needs mixed up, Russ.”
Shaking his head, he stepped forward and slid both arms around her waist until his hands were linked at the small of her back and his forehead pressed against hers. Laurel had never felt her heart beat so hard or fast.
“I’ve been telling myself that I need to give you time to let you think about all of this—about me. But when we’re together, I can see that sort of thinking is stupid. Neither of us are kids. Nor are we strangers.”
“And those are sensible excuses for us to fall into each other’s arms?”
His chuckle was low and sinfully sexy. “Why do we need excuses? Why isn’t wanting each other enough?”
Maybe if she was a normal woman, it would be, she thought, as a sense of helpless desire began to course through her veins. Maybe then she wouldn’t worry about making love to this man or what it might do to her mangled heart.
“I don’t know.” Her throat was so tight her voice came out as little more than a whisper, and before she could stop herself, her eyes closed and his name whispered past her lips.
“Oh, Laurel, I’m so sorry,” he murmured as his fingertips traced a featherlight path across her cheek. “Sorry I’ve been blind for so long. But I wasn’t looking or even thinking.” His head bent until his lips were poised over hers. “I wasn’t even feeling, Laurel. But I am now. And I don’t plan to stop.”
Laurel wasn’t sure if she closed the last bit of distance between their lips or if Russ did. Either way, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the warm magic his lips were creating upon hers, the gentle eagerness of his hands roaming against her back, drawing her closer.
She must have been crazy, she thought, for believing there was ever a chance of her resisting this man. Touching him, loving him, felt as natural and good as drawing in a deep, sweet breath on a warm spring morning.
Mindlessly, her arms lifted and curled around his neck, her body arched into his. Her senses were like a slow, hot whirlpool, swirling around and around until she forgot they were in a workplace where anyone could walk in on them.
But both of them were suddenly reminded of their whereabouts when the sound of an outer door opening and closing registered in Laurel’s fuzzy brain.
She spun out of his arms so quickly that she stumbled, and if not for his steadying hold on her arm, she would have fallen to the concrete floor.
“That was in another part of the building,” he quickly reassured her.
His voice was low and husky as he tugged her back around to him, and Laurel was shocked at how much she wanted to step back into the circle of his arms and let her body melt against his.
Shoving her tumbled hair back from her face, she finally managed to speak. “Thank goodness someone reminded us we’re supposed to be working.”
“We’re not starting work until Monday,” he reminded her. “But maybe we’d better take this up later—in a more private place.”
If she had any backbone at all she would tell him there wasn’t going to be any “later” and that the kiss they’d just shared was going to be their last. But her senses were still a shaky, vulnerable mess from her being in his arms. Right now she wasn’t in any condition to put up a convincing argument, much less persuade herself that she could resist him.
Turning away from him, she started out of the treatment area. “I’m going back out front and see if Maccoy wants to have a cup of coffee with me,” she told him.
“Am I invited, too?”
He was following close on her heels and she didn’t bother to glance over her shoulder at him as she answered, “You’re the boss. You’re going to do what you want, anyway.”
“Not when it comes to you, Laurel.”
That brought her up short and she quickly spun around to face him. “What does that mean?”
His expression went soft and serious. “It means I won’t ever take anything from you unless you want to give it to me. Any other way just wouldn’t be good for me. Understand?”
Suddenly her throat was too thick to speak, so she nodded, then turned and continued out of the room.
* * *
Laurel spent the remainder of the morning helping Maccoy arrange files, while Russ toured the foaling and calving barns. Later, Laramie invited her and Russ on a tour to see some of the outer working areas of the ranch. With most of the landscape remote and rough, they were forced to travel in an older, dual-wheeled truck with a single cab and one bench seat.
Each time the vehicle hit a bump or hole, Laurel’s t
high and shoulder would rub against Russ’s, making it almost impossible to keep her mind on the reason they were driving through the wilderness in the first place. She’d never been so aware of a man in her life, so attuned to his masculine scent, the heat of his body, the timbre of his voice. He’d said he’d been blind during these past years they’d worked together, and Laurel had thought that explanation was feeble at best. After all, there hadn’t been a day go by without her taking note of his handsome face and rugged sexuality. But today, after they’d kissed so passionately, she’d realized that she’d not exactly been seeing all of him, either. There were so many things about him that she’d never noticed before, so many sides of him she knew nothing about. But desperately wanted to.
By the time they headed home, darkness had already arrived to the dense forest surrounding Laurel’s house. As he parked the truck in front of the yard gate, he said, “We made a much longer day of it than I’d planned. Are you tired?”
“A bit,” she conceded, “but today was a breeze compared to a day at the clinic.” She unbuckled her seat belt and slipped on her coat. “Would you like to come in for a while? I’ll make coffee and sandwiches.”
His brows shot up. “Are you serious?”
He was clearly surprised by the invitation and Laurel could understand why. Each time he’d taken one step toward her, she’d been taking one step back. But somewhere between that kiss this morning and the drive home this evening, something had happened to her. She’d kept thinking about all the years she’d worked with Russ and all those secret dreams and feelings for him that she’d carried around and clung to like a child to her favorite blanket.
For years, a part of her had longed for him to look at her in a romantic way, while the other part had felt safe in the fact that he never would. Now that he had, her first instinct had been to run far and fast. But she was so very tired of running. If only for a little while, she wanted to feel like a woman. She wanted to live out her cherished dreams.
“Yes, I’m serious. But if you’d rather get on home, that’s okay, too.”
He turned off the truck engine and reached for his coat. “I’d love to eat with you,” he told her.
As soon as they exited the truck, the dogs were there to greet them and Laurel laughed as she spotted the mud and twigs matted in their coats.
“Well, you warned me,” she told Russ, then patted both dogs on the head. “But you’re a pair of happy guys, aren’t you?”
For answer, the canines barked and ran in excited circles around Laurel and Russ as they made their way to the front entrance of the house.
“I didn’t lock the door,” she told him as she reached around the door jamb and flipped on a light in the tiny foyer. “But if I’d known we were going to be out this late, I would have left the porch light on.”
“I didn’t lock my house, either. But Leo’s there. He’d scare anything away,” Russ joked as he followed her into the house.
A few minutes later, after they’d both visited the bathroom to freshen up, Laurel got busy in the kitchen putting a small meal together, while Russ built a fire in the fireplace.
The wood was already burning nicely when Laurel appeared in the living room carrying the sandwiches and coffee on a wooden tray.
“I have to confess I tried building a fire yesterday, but it just wouldn’t burn for me,” she told him as she bent to place the tray on the coffee table.
“Why don’t you bring that over here?” he suggested. “We can eat here on the rug in front of the fire.”
Two nights ago, sitting in front of the fire had gotten her into more trouble than she’d known how to handle, but she wasn’t going to let that scare her away tonight. She needed to show him and herself that she was a mature woman and unafraid.
“All right,” she agreed. “It’s getting so cold outside the extra heat would feel nice.”
Laurel settled the tray between them, and while they ate the turkey-and-cheese sandwiches, they discussed everything they’d witnessed out on the range with Laramie.
“You know,” Laurel said thoughtfully, “I’ve been friends of the Cantrells for years and visited the ranch on many occasions. I knew it was a huge ranch, but after seeing parts of it today, I realize it’s more than huge—it’s massive.”
Having finished the last of her sandwich, she put the plate back on the tray and poured more coffee into her mug.
He said, “That surprises me. I figured Alexa and Quint had shown you all around the place before.”
She watched him set his empty plate next to hers, then stretching out on his side, he propped up his head with one hand. The relaxed position spelled lazy sexuality, and try as she might, she couldn’t make her gaze look at anything else but him.
Ignoring the strange pitter-patter of her pulse, she said, “At times Alexa and I went horseback riding, but we never ventured too far away from the house. Some of the areas Laramie drove us over today were so remote I was beginning to think we might end up having to walk back to the ranch yard.”
“So what did you think about the foreman?” he asked.
She reached for her coffee. “He’s a man of few words.”
“He’s part Comanche. It’s his nature to listen rather than talk.”
Her brows peaked with interest. “How would you know that? You know some Comanches personally?”
He surprised her by nodding. “When I went to college. I became friends with one and got acquainted with his family. They’re horse people. It goes way back in their ancestry. Nocona, that was my buddy’s name, was studying to be a vet specializing in horse care.”
“Hmm. Guess that’s why Laramie seems to know horses inside out. Cattle, too, for that matter. And that’s going to make your job lots easier.”
A slight smile curved his lips. “That’s true, but before you start thinking it’s going to be a breeze for us around here, I’d better warn you there will be times, like calving and foaling season, when you and I will get very little sleep. And I look for all of that to start up any day now.”
Her gaze continued to wander over the long length of his body until it finally settled on the rugged lines of his face. She figured at one time in his very young years his hair had been more golden-blond. Now it was closer to light brown with gold-and-amber streaks threaded through the parts that were exposed to the sun. Faint lines fanned from the corners of his eyes and bracketed his lips, while his day-old whiskers partially hid the faint dent in his chin. Over these past five years, she’d studied his face many times. The way each feature complemented the next. The way the colors of his skin and hair and eyes came together to form a rich, gold-brown hue. But she’d never been able to really read his expressions that well.
She said, “Hard work has never scared me, Russ. You should know that by now.”
His brown eyes met hers. “No. Work never scared you,” he agreed. “But I sure as hell do.”
She stared at him as her pulse leaped to an even faster pace. “What does that mean? I’ve never been afraid to stand up to you. After all, the most you can do is fire me. And being fired doesn’t kill a person.”
He grimaced. “Hell, as far as work goes, you stand up to me because you and I both know I’d never fire you. No, your fear has to do with something altogether different.”
“You’re wrong,” she said flatly.
The only thing separating the two of them was the tray of leftovers, and Laurel defenselessly watched him push it aside to clear the space between them.
“Am I?” He moved closer until his hand was wrapped around her upper arm and his face was hovering closer to hers. “I don’t think so. This scares you, Laurel. Having me touch you, kiss you.”
Emotions were suddenly blocking her throat, forcing her to swallow. “Why would you think that? I told you that it was nice. Just because I’m inexperienced doesn’t mean I’m afraid.”
His hand came up to her face, and Laurel felt her bones turn to hot liquid as his rough palm cupped the side of h
er cheek. “But you are,” he countered, his voice low and seductive. “You kiss me, all right, but I can feel a part of you trembling and ready to bolt at any moment. Why, Laurel?”
How could she answer his question when she couldn’t even explain it to herself? she wondered helplessly.
“Okay, so I am a little scared,” she admitted in a choked voice. “But this is— It’s all new to me. And it’s not anything I planned on.”
His head pulled back far enough for him to look into her eyes. “You can’t plan attraction or love, Laurel. It just happens. Haven’t you learned that by now?”
Closing her eyes, a sigh slipped past her lips. “How could I? I’ve never been in love. I’ve never really wanted anyone until you.”
He groaned. “Oh, Laurel. Laurel. Don’t be afraid of me. Of this. I could never hurt you. Ever.”
Suddenly he pulled her down beside him on the warm rug, and as his lips found hers and his kiss swept her up in a torrent of hot desire, she realized she didn’t want to think about being afraid or running for dear life. She wanted to hang on to him with every fiber of her being. She wanted to find out for herself what it really meant for a woman to surrender herself to love.
Chapter Seven
Laurel had lost her mind. Why else would she have tempted fate and recklessly invited Russ to join her for sandwiches and coffee when she’d known—the both of them had known—what would happen.
Because she was tired of fighting her feelings, tired of running and hiding from the very thing she’d wanted for so long, she silently answered the questioning voice in her head.
She might be crazy, and tomorrow she’d probably find herself sick with regret, but for tonight she was going to bravely reach for all the joy this man could give her.
And like a tumbleweed gathered up by a fierce wind, Laurel felt herself being totally swept away by the hungry search of his lips upon hers, the hot urgency of his hands as they roamed over her back, down to her buttocks and back up to her breasts, where his fingers kneaded the soft flesh.
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