Slowly, she walked toward him, stopping less than a foot away. She wanted to lean against his strength, absorbing some of it for herself. Maybe that was the problem—she wasn’t capable of making it on her own. Why did she always have to depend on someone else? Why wasn’t her own counsel, her own company, enough?
Yet she knew this was different. In the past she’d wanted to lean on her father or her brother because she didn’t want to face her problems or deal with her life. This time she wanted to lean on Brady because she had a hunch she would find something magical in his arms. His strength would become a part of her, and her strength—surely she had some—would flow into him.
She raised her hand to touch him, but instead of resting her fingers on his back, she curled them toward her palm and dropped her arm to her side. She was just one of the strays. Touching wasn’t allowed.
“I didn’t mean to insult you,” she said.
He shrugged without turning around. “I’m not a fool,” he told her. “I don’t hire everyone who shows up. If I think they have what it takes, I give them a chance. In return I get loyalty and hard work.”
“I’ve learned that firsthand. I appreciate that you gave me a chance. I didn’t say it right, probably because it’s hard for me to see myself as just another stray. My lifestyle has taken a turn for the worst in the past couple of months. In a way, that’s sort of humbling. So I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable. I guess the real message is that I admire you and what you’ve done here.”
Brady grimaced. Admiration. He knew what that was like. He’d been on the giving and receiving end of it. Hero worship. Rita didn’t want to be another stray, and he didn’t want to be a hero.
But he couldn’t tell her that, just as he couldn’t tell her that he’d left the table, not because he’d been insulted, but because her description of him had hit too close to home. He did make it a habit of taking in strays, but that wasn’t how he saw her.
Even though she was an employee, even though he knew better, he wanted her. In his bed and in his life. Both were dangerous, the latter very close to deadly. He knew the risks involved. He knew how bad the heartache could be. He’d been down that road before. Yet something about Rita made him want to try again. Something made him dream about her, want her, need her in the most fundamentally, soul-stirring way.
“Brady, I…” Her voice faltered.
He didn’t dare turn around. He didn’t want to know what she was thinking right now. Something that would remind him he was just an old cowboy with a thing for a young woman who wouldn’t look at him twice on a bet.
Facing the barn, trying desperately to ignore her, he reminded himself it was for the best. When she was ready to move on, he would let her go. That’s how these things happened.
Despite his intense effort not to notice, the scent of her shampoo teased him. He could feel her presence right behind him and knew she was close…close enough to touch.
“There aren’t many old-fashioned gentlemen left,” she said. “You’re one of the good guys.”
Involuntarily, he spun toward her. “I’m not a gentleman,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m not a good guy. I’m just a man, like every other man. I have flaws, and you better get your butt to your room before you witness one of mine.”
Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Dammit, Rita. Don’t make me spell it out.”
Her blue eyes were nearly black in the porch light. “You’re going to have to. I apologized. Isn’t that enough?”
“It’s not about what you said, it’s about what I want. Go home, little girl. Run away and play.”
She raised her chin. “I’m not a child. I’m a grown woman. Stop treating me like your little sister.”
“It beats the alternative.”
“What does that mean?”
“You still don’t get it?”
She shook her head.
She didn’t have a clue. If he hadn’t been so furious and frustrated, he might have laughed. As it was, something inside snapped from the pressure. He glared at her. “Then, let me explain it. I’m not a good guy at all. You drive me crazy. Every damn day you’re out here in your jeans and your T-shirts, flaunting curves that—” He curled his hands into fists as words deserted him. “I know it’s wrong. That’s not the problem. I can’t seem to resist your jokes, your laughter, your quick mind. I want you naked in my bed. I don’t think that qualifies me as a gentleman, do you?”
Her mouth dropped open. “You think I’m attractive?”
“That’s all you got from that? What the hell do you think I’ve been talking about?”
“I don’t know. I’m not pretty.”
He closed his eyes and groaned. “Yeah, right.”
“Brady, I—”
He cut her off. He knew what she was going to say, and he didn’t want to hear. He didn’t want to be let down easy. “Just go inside, Rita. Go to your room and leave me alone. I won’t mention this again. You don’t have to worry that I’m going to embarrass you or inflict myself on you.”
“I wasn’t worried about that at all.”
He looked at her. Her blue eyes had widened and her cheeks looked flushed, but she wasn’t angry and she wasn’t leaving.
“I told you to go inside.”
“And if I don’t?”
Her unexpected response slammed into him like a runaway steer. He nearly staggered. “I don’t have a whole lot of self-control left. I want to kiss you. I want to do a whole lot more, but I’m willing to settle for that. So if you don’t run away, I won’t be able to resist.”
She smiled. “Gee, Brady, a clear warning like that and you say you’re not a gentleman. I’d say you’re the best kind.” Then she raised herself up on tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his.
He was so shocked by her actions that it took him nearly two heartbeats to register what was going on. Her fingertips lay lightly on his shoulder; her body was inches from his. He could feel her heat, inhale her scent, and against his mouth was the sweetest, tenderest, most arousing touch he’d ever experienced.
Pleasure exploded. He wrapped his arms around her and hauled her hard against him. She melted into his body, her curves flowing over his hard planes, her arms embracing his neck, her thighs teasing his.
Every point of contact ignited its own fire. He raised one hand to her head and buried his fingers in her thick curls. With his other hand he followed her spine to her waist, then slipped to the side to cup the swell of her hip. She was built for a man to love—strong, round, supple.
He tilted his head and moved his mouth against hers. Her lips parted and he licked at the open seam. A soft whimper escaped her throat. The sound bore into his chest, feeding an already out-of-control need, sending hot blood coursing through his body. He was hard and aching in seconds.
Randi clutched at Brady, wondering what on earth was happening between them. She’d been kissed before. She’d even made love a couple of times with her college boyfriend. The experience had been pleasant, but it hadn’t prepared her to go up in flames. She liked Brady and admired his body, but she hadn’t known he could arouse her with just a kiss.
As his tongue swept into her mouth, her legs began to tremble. The rippling in her thighs made it difficult to stay upright. She had to lean against him to maintain her balance.
He teased the tip of her tongue with his, then circled hers, igniting explosions of intense pleasure in her breasts and between her legs. She was already damp. She could feel the heat and the wanting that was as much an ache as a throb. Her breasts swelled, the nipples tightening until she had to press against his chest to try and ease the pressure.
As she clung to him, she remembered his words and the picture he’d painted of her in his bed. She wanted to be there—wanted it more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.
He cupped her face in his hands, his fingers stroked her cheeks. The tenderness in the gesture was as perfect as his
mouth against hers. He broke the kiss and gazed at her. She wondered if she looked as aroused as he did.
“Wow,” he said, and smiled.
“Yeah. That’s what I was thinking.” She giggled softly.
“So you’re not offended?”
She reached up and brushed her thumb across his mouth, then shook her head. “Hardly. Intrigued. Surprised, but not offended.”
“I’m glad.” He lowered his head and pressed his lips to the side of her neck. Warm, damp kisses slipped down to her T-shirt. His hands rested on her shoulders. One moved lower, drifting toward her breast. She held her breath in anticipation.
He cupped the curve gently, almost reverently. She exhaled as intense pleasure filled her. Long, strong fingers stroked her and his thumb brushed over her taut nipple. She clutched at him and sighed.
“Sweet Rita,” he murmured against her neck.
It was as if he’d dumped a bucket of cold water over her. She stiffened and stared in horror.
He raised his head and looked at her. “Rita? What’s wrong?”
He’d said it again. Rita. But that wasn’t her name. Rita was a lie, just as her life was a lie. She was Randi Howell, runaway bride.
He shook her gently. “What is it?”
“I—” She swallowed as tears suddenly formed. “Nothing. I can’t—”
She broke away. She couldn’t do this to him. Not to Brady, who really was one of the good guys. He deserved something so much better.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and did what she should have done the first time he mentioned kissing. She turned on her heel and ran to her room.
Chapter Nine
Brady paced the length of the kitchen, paused, then walked back. Once there, he glanced at the digital clock on the microwave. It was 3:58. Rita was due downstairs any minute. He’d already started the coffee for her, and he’d rehearsed what he planned to say a thousand times.
At least he hadn’t had to worry about waking up on time. As it was, he’d barely slept last night. Between reliving the powerful kiss they’d shared and wrestling with guilt, there hadn’t been much time for dozing off.
He heard footsteps on the stairs and turned quickly to face the doorway. A shadow moved through the darkness. There was a click and light flooded the kitchen. Rita saw him and jumped back.
She touched a hand to her chest. “Brady! You gave me a start. What are you doing up?”
She was dressed for work, dressed as he always saw her, in jeans and T-shirt. Her hair was neatly braided, her face freshly washed. As he gazed at her, something flickered in her eyes. His heart sank. She was cautious because she expected him to attack her again. How could he have done that to her?
He drew in a deep breath. “About last night,” he began, and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Look. I’m sorry. I feel awful about what happened. You work for me, and as your employer, I shouldn’t have put you in a position that makes you feel uncomfortable. I’ve never done anything like that before. I’ve never said those things. I don’t know what got into me.”
“It’s okay,” she said softly.
“No, it’s not. As I told you from the start, I wanted you to live here in the main house so you would feel safe. And here I am, the first guy to break the rules about leaving you alone.” He cleared his throat. “I want you to know that I was completely in the wrong, and that it will never happen again.”
Her blue eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled. “That was quite an apology. Thank you. I have just one question.”
“What’s that?”
“Were you awake all night beating yourself up about our kiss?”
Embarrassment burned hot. He averted his face and tried to look casual. “Not exactly.”
“Just as I thought. One of the good guys.” She crossed to the coffeepot and poured herself a cup. After taking a sip, she looked at him. “Okay, Brady, if you can bare your soul, I guess I can bare mine. Don’t give this matter another moment’s thought. You didn’t force me to do anything against my will. I liked kissing you. I don’t think it was especially smart, or something we should pursue right now. Neither of us is in a position to deal with the ramifications of taking things further, so it might be better if we just backed off for a while. Sound reasonable?”
He was too shocked to speak, so he just nodded. She flashed him another smile. “Good.”
With that she walked to the back door and left. He stared after her. She wasn’t angry. He’d convinced himself she would either be furious or incredibly hurt. Instead, she’d calmly admitted he hadn’t forced her. She’d wanted to kiss him. She’d liked kissing him.
He felt himself grin and knew he would be grinning like a fool the whole day. She’d liked kissing him. Hot damn.
* * *
The barn dance fulfilled every city slicker cliché Randi had expected-and she loved it. The lodge in town was tacky and old, with dusty animal heads on the walls. The band consisted of several retired men and one woman on keyboard. They played country favorites with a rhythm that had nothing to do with what the songwriters had originally intended.
Conversation and laughter swirled around as wildly as the dancers. She watched two teenage boys spike the punch. When the preacher caught them, he actually grabbed them by their ears to pull them outside. She wasn’t sure if she’d gone back in time, or had been caught up in a location shoot for a television movie-of-the-week.
This happy occasion was as different from the formal dances she was used to as filet mignon was from five-alarm chili. She’d always liked chili dogs, and now she knew why.
The people here were actually having fun. Couples smiled while they danced, children dashed around the edges of the room playing elaborate games of tag. Old ladies sat in straight-backed chairs and gossiped. New mothers showed off babies. Her mother had wanted her to be a debutante, but this was much more her style. Her dress cost less than her mother’s overpriced face powder, yet she felt, if not attractive, then at least average enough to fit in.
Randi smiled. One of these days she was going to have to work on her self-confidence. Although, referring to herself as “average enough” was better than her description of “hideous”—as she’d thought in high school. She owed a little of that improvement to Brady. Three days later she still remembered every word of his declaration—his wonderful, exciting statements about wanting her. Just thinking about that night made her skin break out in goose bumps. Their kiss had been—She shook her head. Their kiss was something she was trying not to think about, remember? It had been a wonderful experience and something best forgotten. There was no room for her in Brady’s life, and wishing for the moon would only make her unhappy.
Still, she couldn’t help recalling his sweet apology the next morning. Had anyone ever cared so much about her feelings? Had any other man been as concerned that she felt comfortable and safe? If she wasn’t so sure she was moving on, she might be tempted to—“Penny for your thoughts?”
She glanced up and saw Ty standing next to her. The darkly handsome cowboy raised his eyebrows expectantly. Randi flushed.
“They’re not for sale. Sorry.”
“Too bad. They looked interesting. Want to dance?”
“Sure.”
She stepped into his arms. In the first hour she’d danced with everyone from the ranch except for Ty and Brady. Even Tex had taken her on a quick turn around the floor, all the while making her laugh with incredible tales about his life in the marines.
There wasn’t a shortage of women, so she figured the guys were trying to make her feel comfortable. “Is there a conspiracy?” she asked.
“About what?”
“Everyone has danced with me. Are you guys trying to keep me from being a wallflower?”
“No conspiracy. Maybe we just like you and want to dance with you.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I doubt that.”
“So if I told you that you looked nice, you would dismiss the compliment?”
She glanc
ed down at the simple blue floral print cotton dress she wore. Cap sleeves showed off her tanned arms. The garment skimmed over her waist and hips, then flared out slightly to her knees. “I think I look okay.”
“Was that a thank you?”
Before she could answer, he led her through an intricate series of steps that left her stumbling and breathless. She laughed. “So you’re trying to show me up?”
“I would have thought a city girl like you had taken dancing lessons.”
“Really? What makes you think I’m a city girl?”
“Aren’t you?” For the first time since she’d met him, Ty smiled. The faintly dangerous expression he normally wore faded slightly. He wasn’t just good-looking. When he smiled he was about the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.
She tried to remember what she knew about Ty. It was pretty close to nothing. He was good on the ranch, a natural leader. When Brady had a couple of crews working, Ty was always in charge of the second group. He was bright, capable, and she suspected he had a degree. What on earth was he doing stuck on Brady’s ranch?
His hold tightened slightly, warning her of more complicated steps. She concentrated and managed to keep up as he wove them through the other dancers.
She took a shot in the dark. “What’s her name?” she asked.
“Who?”
“The woman who taught you to dance?”
The smile faded as if it had never been, his mouth straightened and already dark eyes turned black with pain. “Denise.”
There was something about the way he said the name. As if it had cost him plenty to form the single word.
“I’m sorry,” Randi said quickly. “I shouldn’t have—” She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “No big deal.”
But she knew it was. She’d been teasing him and had inadvertently bumped into an open wound. A thousand questions filled her mind. Who was this mysterious Denise? Why wasn’t he with her? What had happened? How long had he loved her?
Randi suspected it had been for a very long time. What would it be like to be loved that much?
The Rancher And The RunawayBride: Part 2 Page 5
