by HELEN HARDT
“I have a way with animals,” Dusty said.
“So do I, honey.”
Sam rolled his eyes, laughing. “Whatever you say, McCray.”
“Hey, dogs love me,” Chad said.
“I’m not surprised,” Dusty said, smiling sardonically. “I’m sure you make a nice tall fire hydrant. Now tell me, who do I need to talk to about riding the bull?”
“You need to talk to me, darlin’.”
Dusty shuddered at the sexy western drawl, the hot whisper of breath against the back of her neck.
“And there ain’t a woman alive who can ride that bull.”
Chapter Two
Dusty turned to face the man behind her, and her breath caught. Tall, though not as tall as Sam or Chad—six-feet-two, maybe, in his boots. Long black hair fell to his collar in silky waves. Broad shoulders clad in a black western shirt, and lean hips hugged by snug fitting jeans. The face of a god, chiseled and perfect with a strong jawline and straight Grecian nose. Full dusky lips. Wow. Then she noticed his eyes. One dark brown, one light blue. Those creepy eyes. Funny, they didn’t seem so bad anymore. They worked with his movie star looks. They gave him a mysterious quality, like he could see into her soul.
He was magnificent.
“Zach McCray,” she said in a breathless rasp.
“I hardly recognized you, Gold Dust,” he drawled, eyeing her from top to bottom.
The smolder of his unique eyes warmed her from her head to her toes, and she was convinced he was somehow dissolving her clothes with his heated gaze. Her nipples hardened against the soft fabric of her bra, and she silently thanked God she’d chosen one with padding that morning.
Dusty looked down at his feet, shod in black ostrich cowboy boots. Expensive black ostrich cowboy boots. Here was money. The McCray brothers no doubt owned McCray Landing now since their father had passed away a couple years ago.
“So”—she cleared her throat—“you’re the man to talk to about riding this bull?” She gestured to Diablo, who snorted angrily.
“Darlin’, I’ll say it again. There ain’t a woman alive who can ride that bull.”
“I say there is,” Dusty said. “And you’re looking at her.”
“She calls herself the Bull Whisperer, bro,” Chad said.
Zach eyed her again, an amused smirk on his face. Was he looking at her chest? She crossed her arms.
“You think you can talk to bulls?”
“I don’t exactly talk to them. It’s not a literal whisper, Mr. McCray.”
“Mr. McCray? Hell, that’s my grandpa. You call me Zach, Gold Dust.”
“Fine. It’s not a literal whisper, Zach.”
“Yeah, not a literal whisper.” Chad’s lips twisted into a wide leer. “She uses a flute and a turban. She’s a regular bull swami.”
The three men chuckled as Dusty rolled her eyes. Some things hadn’t changed in seventeen years. Chad teased her as relentlessly as ever. She turned back to Zach.
“Look, I understand bulls, and they seem to understand me.”
Zach rolled his head back in a sarcastic guffaw. Dusty tried not to think about his sexy golden neck and how good his pulse point would feel against her lips.
“Now that takes the cake, darlin’.”
“I’m not your darling.”
“Course not. Women’s lib and all. I’d hate to be politically incorrect.”
“Women’s lib? This is the twenty-first century, not the seventies.” Dusty tapped her foot with indignation.
“Sorry, darlin’. Oops, I mean Dusty, or Miss O’Donovan.”
“It’s Ms.”
“Oh, Christ.” Zach rolled his eyes.
“So can we talk about Diablo or not?”
“Not,” Zach said.
“Told you, twerp.” Chad smiled. “Ain’t no way you get to ride Diablo.”
“But I need to, for the—” Dusty stopped herself. The McCrays didn’t need to know the small Montana ranch she and Sam had inherited from their grandparents was in financial trouble.
“Look, Dusty, I don’t want to hear any more about this,” Sam interjected. “The subject is closed.”
“You’re not my father, Sam,” she said, keeping her temper in check. “I’ll do as I please.”
“Not with my bull, you won’t,” Zach said.
Dusty regarded the three men, all stiff as statues in their indignant stances. Perhaps she was going about this the wrong way. After all, she’d catch more flies with sugar…
“Zach,” she said sweetly, “maybe we could discuss this further over a drink, or even dinner. I’m famished, and it would be fun to catch up, don’t you think?”
“That sounds like a plan,” Chad agreed. “Let’s go for some chow. There’s a great steakhouse about a mile from here.”
“The lady asked me,” Zach said, “and I’ll take her to dinner. Alone.”
“They can come too,” Dusty said. “I’d love for us all to chat. It’d be fun.”
Zach’s eyes raked over her. “Now why would I want to share a pretty little thing like you with these two clowns?”
Dusty’s cheeks heated. She couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Okay, okay, bro.” Chad said, backing away. “What say we go for a few beers and some chili cheese fries, Sam?”
“Uh, sure, but Dusty—”
“I’ll be fine, Sam. I’ll see you later at the hotel.”
Her brother and his old best friend trotted off together, as if seventeen years hadn’t passed.
Breathing deeply, she gathered her courage, turned to Zach, and looped her arm through his. “Shall we?”
* * *
While Dusty talked on and on about her experience handling bulls, Zach sipped his Wild Turkey and watched her. Damn, the little ragamuffin had turned into a beautiful woman. He tried to listen, really he did, but his mind kept wandering to the image of her naked on top of him. Her reddish-gold hair—his mama used to call it strawberry blond—was braided and hung to her waist in a long plait. Those big chocolate brown eyes. He could lose himself in them. Her cherry-red lips were full and sumptuous, and she had a tiny spray of freckles across her cute little nose. And her body…curves in all the right places. She filled out her stretch denim shirt, which was unbuttoned just enough to show a little cleavage. Did she have any idea how crazy she was driving him? He’d bet his life those breasts were as succulent as two juicy peaches.
“So what do you think?” he heard her ask.
“About what?”
“About what we’ve been talking about!” Dusty let out an audible breath. “Haven’t you been listening, Zach?”
No, I’ve been thinking about how you’d look naked. “Of course I have. But I’m still not gonna let you ride Diablo.”
“Come on. Please?”
Oh, those big brown eyes got to him. But—
“No.” At her crestfallen gaze, he added, “It’s for your own good, darlin’. That stud damn near killed Chad last year, and he’s one of the best riders around.”
“He said you’re the best.”
“I am. But he’s a close second.”
“How long have you stayed on him?”
“About three seconds.”
“A couple years back one of our neighbors had a nasty one. Fireball was his name. I was able to tame him a little. I rode him for twelve seconds, Zach.”
“But was he Diablo’s size?”
“Well, no, but—”
“No buts, Dusty. You can’t ride the bull.”
“How about if I just get to know him a little.”
“What do you mean?”
“Spend some time with him. Give him the chance to learn about me, respond to me.”
Zach chuckled and put down the drink he had lifted to his lips. “This is a bull, darlin’. You sound like you want to take him for a picnic in the park.”
“Come on. You know what I mean. Let me try. Please?”
“Too dangerous.”
“So come wit
h me. You can be our chaperone.” Dusty’s eyes darkened, and she curved those luscious lips into a teasing smile, clearly daring him to refuse her.
Hmm. Spend time with Dusty? Have her beautiful face and luscious body near him? He could live with that. Even with ugly Diablo as their chaperone. It was an excuse to be close to her without having to date her. Sounded like Christmas.
“Okay. You got a deal, Gold Dust.”
“And stop calling me Gold Dust. You make me feel like a little kid.”
“Oh, you’re no little kid.” He settled his gaze on her chest, caught himself, and looked up to her face. She was staring at him. He remembered how he used to scare her, telling her his blue eye would melt her brain. “Do my eyes bother you?”
She reddened, looking down at the table. “No, not at all. I…like them, actually.”
“Oh?”
“They look good on you. They work. They give you a mystical look, like you can see inside a person.”
Zach’s insides warmed. “You’re the first person who’s ever said anything like that to me.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. In high school I didn’t have a lot of luck with the girls. My eyes freaked them out.”
Dusty looked at him, her eyes wide. “I can’t believe that. Have you looked in a mirror? You’re…” She flushed and looked away.
“I’m what, darlin’?” His tone was teasing, but inside he was ecstatic she found him attractive.
“Nothing.”
“In college and grad school I wore a brown contact. But after that I said what the hell.”
“And since then? Any problems with women?”
He gave her his best devil-may-care grin. “Nope.”
Dusty looked down. “Didn’t think so.”
“There isn’t anyone right now though.” He hoped this revelation pleased her. “I was engaged for a while, but she broke it off last year.”
“Oh.”
“What about you? Are there any men in your life?”
“None but my brother”—she smiled impishly—“and Diablo.”
“Ah-ha, so you do want to date my bull,” he joked.
“I’ll settle for a little quality time, with you as my chaperone of course.” Her giggle echoed like chimes. What a pleasant sound. She continued, “Where did you go to college?”
“Harvard.”
Dusty’s brown eyes widened, and her mouth dropped into an oval. “No way.”
“Yeah, for undergrad and for my MBA.”
“You have an MBA?”
“Don’t look so surprised. We McCrays have brains, you know.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply you didn’t. But you’re a rancher, Zach. A cowboy.”
“McCray Landing didn’t become what it was by sheer luck, darlin’. My family did it by being educated. My pa wanted me to have the best business education available.”
“But getting into Harvard… It’s very competitive.”
“I never got less than an A in high school, and my rodeo wins helped. And my ma was a legacy.”
“Laurie? I had no idea.”
Zach warmed at the affection in Dusty’s voice when she mentioned his mother. But of course, she would remember Laurie with affection. With her own mother wasting away, Laurie McCray had no doubt been a refreshing sight. “She’s a smart cookie.”
“I was too young to appreciate her intelligence, but I remember her cookies. Oatmeal raisin, always warm.” Dusty closed her eyes. “How is she?”
“She’s well. Still lives up at the main house. Dallas, Chad, and I each have our own places on the ranch.”
“And she went to Harvard.”
“Actually, no. She was the legacy, not me. She went to Vassar. But my grandpa, her pa, was a Harvard alum and set up an endowment for the undergrad college.”
“Wow. And that helped you get in?”
“It didn’t hurt.”
Dusty sighed, smiling. “What a wonderful education you’ve had. I’m truly impressed, Zach.”
Her praise warmed him. “Thanks.” He didn’t know what else to say.
“I always wanted to finish college,” Dusty continued. “I only went for a year.”
“Why did you quit?”
She looked away. “Circumstances.”
Okay, he wouldn’t push. “What did you study?”
“I like math. I’m good at it.” Dusty spoke quickly and with passion. Education clearly meant a lot to her. “And I love animals. I had planned a double major in math and zoology, and then I thought I’d go to vet school.”
“That’s an admirable goal,” Zach said.
“It’s only a dream, really… What did Chad study? And Dallas?”
“Dallas studied law at Yale.”
“He’s a lawyer?”
“Nah, he’s a rancher, just like I am.”
“Then why law school?”
“Same reason I studied business. There’s more to ranching than horses and cattle.”
“Well sure there is, but—”
“Besides, Chad’s the one with the brains for animals. He studied agriculture and animal science at Texas A&M. His grades weren’t as good through high school. Never serious, that one. Too many parties and too many girls. But he has a unique way with animals.”
“He said something like that to me earlier. He said dogs loved him. I teased him about it.”
“We all tease him about it.”
“But now I feel bad.” She cocked her head. “But why should I? The two of you were teasing me about the same thing!”
“Touché, darlin’.” Zach couldn’t help grinning.
“This looks wonderful!” Dusty raved as their waiter set their meals down.
“Best steaks in Colorado,” Zach said. “Enjoy.”
“I intend to.”
Dusty cut into her steak and took a large bite, making satisfied noises as she ate. Zach loved seeing a woman relish her food. Too many women these days were afraid to eat in front of a man. Not Dusty.
They chatted as they finished their meal, and Zach drove Dusty toward her hotel. She gushed all the way about his rented Jaguar—the plush leather seats, the incredible sound system, the lush interior. Zach knew he was rich, richer than Dusty’s family would ever be. But he wondered, given the fact that Dusty had said she hadn’t been able to finish college, if the O’Donovans were facing difficult times, more than just the day-to-day struggle of the average rancher. If her desire to ride Diablo had less to do with proving herself, and more to do with the half mil purse he’d offered.
Halfway to her hotel, he passed the stock show grounds. The night was young yet, and he didn’t want his evening with her to be over.
“You want to walk around the grounds a little?” he asked. “The vendors are here until nine.”
“Uh, sure, I guess so.”
“Unless you have some place to be.”
“No. Nowhere but here.”
“Great.” He smiled at her, his heart doing a little jump at the thought of spending another hour or so in her company. Something about her…
He parked the Jag and led her into the large pavilion where the vendors were located.
“I’d rather look at the animals,” Dusty said.
“They’re all bedded down for the night, darlin’. I’m afraid it’s only vendors tonight. But I’ll buy you a corn dog.”
“After that huge meal? You’re kidding, right?”
“Yeah, I’m kidding. But I do need a new hat. Are you looking for anything?”
“No. I’ve got all I need.”
“How about some bull riding spurs?”
“I don’t use them. I just use my regular spurs.”
Zach perused her face, stubborn and hard as granite. She sure looked serious. “Dusty, you’re telling me you’ve been riding bulls without proper equipment?”
“Frankly, I’d prefer not to use spurs at all, but Sam insists.”
“Thank God for Sam.” He grabbed her hand. “Come wit
h me.”
His favorite spur vendor had set up shop in one of the corner booths. He pulled Dusty inside.
The salesman raised his hand in greeting. “Hey, Zach. I figured I’d see you here eventually.”
“How’ve you been, Jay?”
“Can’t complain.”
“This is Dusty,” Zach said. “Dusty, Jay Ray.”
“Jay Ray?”
“Born and bred,” Jay said. “What can I do for you all this evening?”
“We need to set her up with some bull riding spurs.”
“Zach, no…”
“My treat, darlin’.”
“But I don’t like to use spurs with bulls. How’s an animal supposed to trust me if I hurt him?”
Jay chuckled as Zach pulled Dusty out of the small alcove.
“I suppose you don’t wear a helmet, either.”
“Sometimes, when it’s a new bull, but I prefer not to. I think the animal knows if I’m trying to protect myself from him.”
Zach shook his head. This woman was a handful. “Chaps?”
“I have them.”
“Glove?”
“A Tiffany glove. A gift from Papa before he died.”
“Vest?”
“Of course. I’m not a complete half-wit.”
“Mouth guard?”
She shook her head. “I don’t like the way it feels in the back of my mouth. Makes me want to gag.”
“Jesus.” Zach raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m going to insist on the spurs, darlin’. Not that you’ll need ’em, cause you’re not gonna ride Diablo anyway.”
“But I suppose if I do convince you, I have to have the spurs.”
“You got it.”
“I don’t want to spend so much money.”
“I told you, my treat.”
“I can’t let you do that. We barely know each other.”
“Heck, we’ve known each other for twenty-plus years. I’ve got body hair I haven’t known as long.”
Dusty’s laugh rang out like jingling bells.
“Now there’s a cheery sound. Let me buy you the gift, darlin’.”
“You just bought me dinner.”
“Okay, it’ll be a gift in memory of our dinner.”
