Rafe took the rope from her. “Quitting already?” he taunted, wanting to see the sassy side of this woman.
On cue, she appeared, thrusting her chin out with a mixture of stubbornness and feminine pride. “Hey, this Stetson only gives me the appearance of a cowgirl. Unfortunately, it doesn’t have any magical powers to make me one.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “Now refreshments, I can handle.” With a grin, she headed toward the gate leading out of the paddock.
Rafe began building himself a loop, letting out rope until it made a nice sized circle. “Before you go, would you mind up-righting that hay bale over there?” he asked pleasantly.
She stopped in her tracks and glanced to where he motioned with his head. Seeing that both Chad and Rafe had their hands full, she nodded. “Oh, Sure.”
Rafe watched her head toward the far side of the paddock, enjoying the gentle, natural sway of her hips as she walked. Out of the corner of his mouth, he whispered to Chad, “What do you say we rope ourselves a filly?”
Understanding dawned as Chad followed Rafe’s line of vision to Lauren, who was bending over and repositioning the hay bale. A huge grin transformed Chad’s expression, and his eyes lit up with mischief. “Yeah,” he whispered, lowering his own cord to watch Rafe’s roping skills.
“How’s that?” Lauren asked, turning around to face the two of them.
“Perfect,” he said, moving slowly closer. “Now just stand real still and be good . . .”
He didn’t expect her to obey, and she didn’t. For every step he took forward, she took two to the side, her gaze filling with instant suspicion. “Rafe, what do you think you’re doing?”
The rope whirled in a growing loop at his side, rising higher and higher. “Why, I’m gonna lasso myself a spirited filly.”
She gasped indignantly, though the playful twinkle in her eyes told him she’d be a good sport. “You wouldn’t!”
He lifted a dark brow. “Wouldn’t I?” he challenged mildly.
“Well don’t expect me to stand still and make it easy on you!” She darted across the paddock in an attempt to thwart him.
“Nope, that wouldn’t be any fun at all.” He kept his stride deceptively lazy and non-threatening, which only served to heighten the anticipation of what was to come—Lauren’s capture.
“Pay attention, Chad,” he directed in a low, soothing tone. “Keep your eyes on your quarry, and try to calculate their next move. Watch their legs to get a feel for which way they plan to sprint. . .” His gaze dropped to those long, sexy limbs. Her booted feet were braced apart, but her left knee, bent very slightly, gave away her next advance, which he easily countered.
She let out a sound of frustration and waggled a finger at him. “I’m gonna get even with you for this, Dalton.”
His loop continued to twirl as he let the anticipation of being caught intensify. “Oh, I sure do hope so, Ms. Richmond,” he drawled, imagining the different ways she’d take retribution.
Gradually, he maneuvered her into a fenced-in corner. Though a good ten yards separated them, he had her trapped, and she knew it, too. Awareness made her breathing quicken and heated excitement flare in her eyes as they searched for a means of escape. Her full breasts rose and fell enticingly, instinctively drawing his gaze to the arousing sight.
His own breathing grew a little deeper, too, and his belly tightened with irrepressible need and desire for this feisty woman.
“Lasso her, Rafe!” Chad urged gleefully, reminding Rafe that he and Lauren weren’t alone as he suddenly wished they were. Somehow, what had started as an amusing game had become a slow, tantalizing seduction . . . one he wanted to take to its inevitable conclusion.
Easing closer, he flicked his wrist to steady the loop, ready to claim his prize. “Easy now,” he murmured in the low, husky voice that never failed to calm a skittish horse. Lauren, however, knew better than to trust him.
She dampened her bottom lip with her tongue, and feinted to the left. When he automatically swayed in that direction to block her, she bolted to the right with a triumphant “Hah!” and made a beeline for the gate. Quickly recovering from his mistake, he sent the loop sailing . . . right over the top of her head and around her body. The rope tightened around her waist and pinned her arms to her sides, stopping her mid-sprint without jerking her off her feet.
He allowed enough slack so as not to hurt her, and gave her time to steady herself. “Now that’s how it’s done, Chad,” Rafe said, deliberately smug.
She gaped at him in shock, as if she couldn’t believe he’d actually truss her up like a calf. “Very funny, Dalton.” She squirmed to edge the rope up past her elbows so she could slip it back over her head, all with no success. “You can let me go now.”
“Naw, I kinda like you just like this.” He pulled her leisurely, inexorably toward him, despite the paltry struggles he suspected were for Chad’s benefit. “Well, we caught our filly, Chad. Think we can tame her?”
She tossed her head back and sent a mock glare his way that belied the smile teasing the corners of her mouth. “You’re gonna have your hands full with this filly, cowboy.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t I know it.” He kept reeling her in, tamping the laughter threatening to rumble from his chest. And then there was the grin he was hard-pressed to suppress, too. God, when was the last time he’d had such simple, nonsensical fun? He couldn’t remember, but planned to enjoy this moment while it lasted.
He thumbed his hat back, meeting her spitfire gaze. “I’m having second thoughts about letting you loose.”
A few feet away, she abruptly stopped, awe transforming her features. “Why, Rafe Dalton, is that a smile I detect on your face?”
He quickly schooled his expression, but knew the merriment he refused to let form on his lips shone in his eyes. “Why, Ms. Richmond, I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”
She laughed her disbelief, the sound light, sweet and filled with levity, cajoling him to join in the playful moment. Gently, he tugged on the rope, and she stumbled forward those last couple of steps. Realizing she had no use of her hands should she loose her balance, he caught her against his chest, using his hand around her back to support her. Too late, he discovered his mistake—his noble gesture put her mouth mere inches from his, not to mention aligned their bodies perfectly. His responded accordingly to her soft curves, and he battled against the instinctive male reaction.
She grinned, her gaze traveling from his lips to his eyes. “Maybe it’s been so long that you’ve forgotten what it’s like to smile, but from my vantage point, that’s exactly what it looks like to me.”
Rafe opened his mouth to refute her opinion, but the sound of an approaching vehicle caught Chad’s attention, and he ran to the fence to see who the visitor was. Rafe knew he should release Lauren, yet he was helpless to listen to that voice of reason, not when all the could think about was kissing the lips so close to his he could feel her warm, ragged breath.
“Kristin is here!” Chad announced and waved wildly at the truck Rafe couldn’t see from where he and Lauren were standing. Rafe heard Chad exit the paddock, then the sound of a car door slamming shut, and still he didn’t move . . . couldn’t have if his life depended on it.
She swallowed, and he watched her regain her own composure. “Are you going to let me go,” she whispered, “or am I going to be totally humiliated in front of your sister when she sees me all trussed up like this?”
That snapped him out of his sensual fog, and he put the necessary distance between them, for propriety sake, as well as his own sanity.
“Could you, ahh, help me loosen the rope?” she asked tentatively, indicating her constrained arms. “I can’t reach the knot.”
His gaze lowered to where the slipknot rested just below her breasts. Realizing what the task ahead entailed, he forced himself to lift unsteady hands. He fumbled with the tightened rope, unable to help the way his knuckles brushed the undersides of that soft fullness as he worked
on the knot. Apparently, neither could she prevent the swelling of her breasts from that light caress, or the way her nipples drew into hard beads against her cotton shirt.
Heat coiled low in his belly, spreading outward to every nerve ending. Averting his gaze to her face didn’t help cool his ardor, not when her expression reflected the same vital hunger that twisted through him.
As soon as the rope gave way and fell to her feet, he stepped away from her and eased a taut breath between his teeth. Swearing at the futility of the situation and this mystifying need he had for her, he turned to head inside the stables until his body settled enough to greet his sister.
“Rafe?”
Her soft voice beckoned to him, and he stopped against his better judgment and glanced back. “Yeah?” His voice was rough with the same frustration coursing through his blood.
She blinked at him, something warm and mischievous glimmering in her crystal blue eyes. “Just for the record, you smiled.”
Damned if he didn’t experience the urge to grin at her satisfied expression. He bit the inside of his cheek. “Did not.”
“Did too,” she argued mildly. “And before I leave on Sunday, I’ll prove there’s more where that came from.”
Lauren relaxed in Rafe’s embrace as they danced to a slow country ballad the band was playing at Cedar Creek’s finest steak house. The Elk Lodge was filled with Friday night patrons, and though she and Rafe had received curious looks when they’d arrived together for dinner, after the initial interest of seeing them together those inquisitive stares and idle comments had ebbed into acceptance.
A few people stopped by their table to ask where Chad was, and Lauren explained that he was with Kristin and James. The couple had asked if Chad could spent the night at their place, and her young charge had begged and pleaded until she’d laughingly agreed.
Knowing Chad only had a few more days left to enjoy his vacation before he returned to California and a new foster home, Lauren found it difficult to refuse him anything.
She and Rafe ate their dinner around easy conversation, and instead of leaving after they’d finished their meal as Lauren fully expected Rafe to suggest, they’d sat and talked some more, about inconsequential things, really, but everything he said captured her attention and gave her a deeper insight to Rafe, the man.
Despite his low, personal opinion of his character, beneath those tough layers of guilt and recriminations she discovered the kind, caring cowboy Chad had met a few years ago . . . and found herself falling for him. Deeply and irrevocably.
What had begun as a quest to soothe the savage beast she’d met over two weeks ago had turned her own emotions topsy-turvy. When she looked at Rafe, she felt things that surpassed physical attraction and desire. Oh, sure, she experienced a heart-pounding excitement when he was near, and when she looked into his smoky, sexy eyes, she couldn’t stop the melting sensation in the pit of her stomach. Yet there was more, that indefinable something that always lacked in the men she’d dated in the past—a warmth, a connection, a sense of rightness.
Was this the love she’d been searching for? she wondered, shaken by the thought.
Rafe rubbed a gentle hand along her back. “Hey, are you okay?”
Clearing her mind of her startling revelation, she summoned a smile that faltered on her lips. “I’m fine.”
He didn’t look convinced as he maneuvered them around another couple two-stepping across the dance floor. “Are you having a good time? We can leave if you want—”
“I’m having a wonderful time,” she said truthfully, not wanting the night to end. “Though I thought this wasn’t supposed to be a date.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement. “It’s not.”
She couldn’t resist teasing him—goading a smile from him had become a playful battle of wills between them, one she couldn’t wait to win. “Well, we are dancing together. Real close.” The friction of their chests, bellies and thighs flooded her body with enough heat to start a wildfire beneath the surface of her skin.
“Dancing was your idea, not mine,” he pointed out.
The fingers resting at the back of his neck inched upward, touching the thick, silky strands of his hair. “I don’t remember you putting up much of an argument.”
He made a sound bordering between humor and skepticism. “Like I’d win an argument with you.”
“You’ve got a point,” she conceded with a sassy grin, and gave her own debate more thought. “Certainly you being romantic qualifies this as a date.”
“I’m not doing anything romantic at all.” A muscular thigh slid between hers, aligning their bodies closer if that was possible.
Her pulse quickened. “Depends on whose definition of romantic.”
“Go ahead,” he drawled. “Enlighten me on your definition.”
“Well, you’ve been very attentive this evening.”
“We’ve got an avid audience, and I want to make a good impression.”
Laughter bubbled up from her throat. “We both know what a bald-faced lie that is!”
He shrugged, admitting nothing.
“And what about the way you’re holding me while we’re dancing? Or the fact that you’ve been staring at my mouth, like you want to kiss me.” His eyes had darkened to charcoal, and in a whisper-soft voice only he could hear she said, “I’d let you kiss me, you know.”
She could feel his heart beating erratically against her breast, as crazily as her own. He looked like he was seriously considering the idea, then the tempo of the music changed to an upbeat country song, forcing them to shuffle faster across the dance floor or get trampled by enthusiastic two-steppers.
The moment was lost to the fast-paced, rollicking music, but the sensual tension shimmering between them remained long after they’d left The Elk Lodge and headed home.
A comfortable silence settled in the cab of Rafe’s truck, the only sound coming from the radio, which was tuned into a country station. Lauren stared out the passenger window, and gasped when a bolt of lightning streaked across the night sky, illuminating the interior of the vehicle.
“Looks like we’re in for a storm tonight,” Rafe commented, his voice low and sexy in the close confines of the truck. “Hopefully we’ll beat it home.”
No sooner were those words out of his mouth when a fat drop of rain splattered on the windshield. Then another, and another, until he had no choice but to put on the wipers so he could see. By the time he brought his truck to a stop in his driveway, the rain fell steadily.
Rafe scowled at the elements, and the fact that the storm couldn’t have waited another few minutes, until he and Lauren were safe and dry inside the house. “Looks like we’ll have to make a run for the porch.”
He shut down the truck, but before he could pull the keys from the ignition, Lauren’s hand closed over his, stopping him. He met her gaze in silent question.
Even in the dim cab he could see the reckless daring glowing in her eyes. He didn’t have to wait long to find out what fanciful idea had spawned in that beautiful head of hers.
Her fingers trailed lightly up his arm, and she leaned close, her mouth kicking up in a tempting smile. “Leave the radio on and dance with me.”
Chapter Eight
Rafe shook his head, certain her words had somehow gotten distorted with the soft patter of rain against the hood of his truck. “Excuse me?”
“I said, leave the radio on and dance with me.”
Nope, he hadn’t misunderstood her the first time. “In the rain?” He frowned at the ridiculous suggestion. “Are you crazy?”
“We’re going to get soaked anyway,” she reasoned. “So what’s the difference?”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he tried to envision himself frolicking in the rain. He couldn’t picture it, because the thought defied logic. “You are crazy.”
“Come on, Rafe,” she cajoled, sweet as honey. “Nobody will see us, and I promise not to tell a soul that we played in the ra
in.”
Before he could issue another objection, she slipped from the truck and into the warm, summer rain. She stood in front of his headlights, which he hadn’t turned off yet, arms open wide and her face lifted toward the night sky as she spun around. The beam of light silhouetted her body, and made the drops of rain falling on her hair and face sparkle like diamonds. Pure male heat rumbled through him as the front of her dress grew damp, clinging to her breasts, waist and legs.
Then he heard her light, melodious laughter, and the flirtatious sound beckoned to him, awakening that lonely, aching part of him that craved this woman’s tenderness. The tide of emotion washing over him should have had him throwing up blockades, yet he welcomed the warmth, and succumbed to the need to let go of past burdens, just for tonight.
“What the hell,” he muttered. Leaving the keys in the ignition, he cranked up the radio. Then he exited the vehicle, strode toward her, and caught her in his arms, pulling their bodies intimately close. He eased into a fast-paced two-step, and she easily kept time, her sandaled feet staying in sync with his as he maneuvered her around his truck.
“Where did you learn to two-step?” he asked as the rain dampened his hair and saturated his shirt. Despite his earlier protests, he was having fun. “I would have thought you’d be a Waltzer.”
“Shows you just how much you need to learn about me,” she said in that impudent way of hers. “And for the record, I do know how to Waltz, which was a prerequisite for my debutante ball, but my roommate and I like to go country dancing.” Grinning with infectious enthusiasm, she said, “Twirl me, Rafe.”
He spun her around while holding her hand, then tugged her back into his embrace again and whirled them together, around and around, until she was laughing breathlessly. The rain drenched their hair and clothing, and water dripped from his nose and her chin, adding to the humorous situation.
And then it happened . . . that excruciating pressure in his chest he’d suppressed for too long broke free, and a deep rumble of laughter escaped him. The rusty chuckles mingled with Lauren’s mirth, until the sound developed the rich, male undertones he remembered from long ago.
The Bachelor’s Surrender Page 11
