by Sable Hunter
He ignored her proclamation. “Looks kinda dirty.”
“Yes, very dirty, indeed. One of the ranch hands wrecked it. Driving too fast. Too reckless. He was too young to know better. The men who work on this ranch are either too old or just boys. We don’t have any real men here, Mr. Redford. Not until now.” She looked right at him, unapologetically.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Isabella. We men never grow up. We just get bigger and buy more expensive toys. Like that four wheeler of yours. Do you ride it often?”
“Why, yes, I do. This is the one I always use. I’m sure Raul will avoid me for the next month.”
Bull knew he should go on. Standing here talking to her was dangerous. “It’s not exactly the color I imagined you to favor.”
“Is there a problem with blue?” She moved a little closer, hoping he’d look at her again.
“No, of course not. I just figured you for an everything-has-to-be-pink kinda girl.”
“Perhaps you don’t know me as well as you think, Mr. Redford.”
“True, and perhaps you don’t know as much about me as you think.”
“But I’d like to.”
“Oh, I can tell.” Bull sneered, disgusted with himself and frustrated with her.
Isabella stepped back as if she’d been slapped. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”
She placed her hands on her hips, a move she probably didn’t intend as seductive, but it sent a charge right into Bull’s manhood, regardless.
“Listen, Isabella...”
This was not the same man as her Benedict, not the same man at all. “It’s Ms. Cortez to you, Mr. Redford.”
Bull felt a surge of awareness. The kitty had claws. “Ms. Cortez,” he began again, “I think you have this romantic notion of American cowboys. You’ve seen one too many Clint Eastwood movies. I can assure you, I am not going to ride into town and clean up the riff-raff for you, or turn your ranch hands into men. I’m just an old, broken-down rodeo cowboy with a bad ankle and a spare tire. I’m just trying to make a living, sweetheart.”
“If you could see yourself through my eyes, you wouldn’t say that. And don’t ever call me sweetheart in such a condescending manner again. Good day!” Isabella whirled around and hurried down the hill. His rejection stung. All he saw when he looked at her was some silly, spoiled little girl with daydreams about American movie stars.
What should she do? La Diosa’s mask would eventually have to come off and when it did, there would be no one left but Isabella. As much as she wanted to recapture the magic she’d shared with Benedict earlier, she couldn’t meet him in disguise again. Hiding her true self from him hurt too much.
At the bottom of the hill, she turned to take one last glimpse. And what she saw made all the difference. He was staring after her with absolute longing on his face, the same yearning she saw on his face when he looked at Carmen.
For a long moment, she held his gaze. She didn’t know if he could read her thoughts, but if he could, Benedict Carson Redford would know that Isabella Cortez had no intention of giving up on him.
Time for plan B.
Bull was fit to be tied. Carmen hadn’t phoned him and she wasn’t answering his calls. He couldn’t concentrate on what Don Luis was saying for worrying about her. To make matters worse, Miss Isabella seemed to have made it her mission in life to seduce him. And God help, she was turning him every which way but loose. The bikini was gone, but tonight she wore some slinky red number that made her tits look like a million dollars. She even wore a pair of red stilettos that could’ve been twins of the shoe he carried in his suitcase. The rest of her didn’t look too bad either, her waist was tiny and her hips flared just right. The woman was a fuckin’ centerfold. Bull could feel his blood pressure spiking. If he didn’t die of a stroke before the night was over, it’d be a miracle.
“Let us talk a bit of business before dinner, Si?” Don Luis poured a liberal amount of Scotch into a glass and gave it to his guest. “Are you only interested in bulls or did you plan on purchasing some cows also?”
“I think for the time being, I’ll limit myself to bulls.” He took a sip of the smooth Scotch. “Unlike you, my funds are not unlimited, Don Luis.” He stared down into the smooth amber liquid, trying to ignore the prickle of awareness on the back of his neck. Isabella was watching him, he could feel her gaze.
“I have a stable of fine animals to choose from, their pedigrees are unmatched. I’m sure we can come to an agreement that will make us both happy. Making a foray into the American market is a goal for Terra Dura.”
He was considering Don Luis’s comment when the clicking of high heels sounded behind him and an intriguing hint of perfume wafted into Bull’s face. Immediately, he steeled himself not to react to Isabella’s nearness. He was just about to suggest to her uncle that they’d do well to conduct their business in private, when her voice cut into his thought process.
“Since spreading the name and reputation of Terra Dura to the states is our aim, why not come to some type of arrangement? Perhaps you would agree to exchange, how do you say, promotion for a discounted price?”
Bull’s eyes widened. Her suggestion surprised him. He liked the sound of it, very much.
Don Luis, however, frowned at her idea. “Please leave the business to the adults, Isabella. Men know best.”
Isabella stiffened. Bull could see a flush darken her cheeks as she pressed her lips tightly together, as if she were forcibly holding back a response.
“Senor Cortez,” he found himself saying, “you would know best, of course, but perhaps you and I could foster a long-term relationship.” He carefully refrained from openly siding with Isabella, he had no wish to alienate the uncle or encourage the niece. “At this point, not many north of the border have heard about you. Other than my neighbor, Esteban, I don’t think I’ve met anyone else familiar with your reputation.”
“Esteban?” Isabella blurted out his name. “Rodrigo Esteban?” Her father’s picador?
Her outburst seemed to shock both men. “Well…yes, that is his full name,” Bull answered, hesitantly.
“Isabella! Please go check on the progress of our meal with Magdalena!”
Bull watched as Isabella narrowed her eyes at her uncle, then whirled to leave. He let out a long breath, determined not to get in the middle of whatever rivalry they had going. Her suggestion, however, had too many possibilities to ignore. “You know, Don Luis, if we could work out some type of partnership, I could promote your brand to every notable rancher in the U.S. I have many contacts in the ranching and rodeo world.”
Don Luis turned his attention back to Bull. During the short time they’d been talking, Bull had consumed one glass of Scotch while Cortez drank three. “Partnership? How would that work?” His face was ruddy and his speech was slurred, but even though they were bloodshot, Bull could see dollar signs in the Mexican’s eyes.
Faced with this unexpected opportunity, Bull’s brain began to buzz with possibilities. “I would spread the word about Terra Dura in any number of ways, from personal recommendations to gaining some sponsorships in your name. In return, you could furnish breeding stock for my business at an affordable price. If things progress, maybe you could even cut me in for a…reasonable percentage.”
Don Luis pursed his lips in thought. “I have not considered such a deal before, I would have to look into it more in-depth.”
“Of course, I expected nothing less. Perhaps, you could come visit me in the states soon and let me show you the ropes and introduce you to some influential people in the American cattle business. I know everybody. I think you’ll find my reputation to be sterling.” Bull hated to blow his own horn, but sometimes that was the only way it would get blown.
Blown. Bam! Just like that, his mind was on sex.
At least he was a typical male. In his head, he could picture himself leaning against a wall with a beautiful dark haired woman at his feet.
Carmen.
No, Isa
bella.
No, Carmen.
Shit! He shook his head and returned his attention to business.
Seeing Don Luis was downing another Scotch, Bull set his own empty glass down and faced him head on. “Does this sound like something you’d be interested in, Senor?”
“I cannot say yes, I cannot say no. After we inspect the stock tomorrow and see what your needs are, we can discuss the prospect of a partnership further. Agreed?”
Bull nodded. “Agreed.”
…In the kitchen, Isabella fumed. Her uncle’s condescending attitude infuriated her! She was already upset about the charade she was conducting with Benedict. It felt like she was mishandling something important and she didn’t know how to fix it. “I’ll finish the sauce, Magdalena,” Isabella offered, desperate for something to do.
“Okay, little one. Everything else is ready.” The old cook patted Isabella’s arm.
She stirred the chocolaty concoction that would soon be poured over the dessert bars she’d whipped up earlier. “All of this looks wonderful. You did such a good job.”
“You helped. You’re such a good girl.”
Pulling the pot from the stove, Isabella whirled to grab ahold of Magdalena. “Hold me, please. Everything is so messed up.”
The older woman enfolded Isabella to her ample bosom. She’d been the only mother-figure Isabella had known since losing her own mother.
“There, there, my sparrow, everything will soon be well. The lawyer will come through for you. Don Luis will not destroy your legacy.”
“I know.” Isabella sniffed. “I have faith. It’s just this man…he’s…”
Magdalena smiled and gathered Isabella’s hair into a ponytail, raising it off her neck to cool her down. “He’s a handsome devil, is he not?”
Isabella laughed. “Yes, he is. And he’s good.” She didn’t explain how she knew, but Magdalena would listen either way. “He’s a good man. He doesn’t see me, though. Benedict thinks I’m a child.”
“Hmmm, well, if you’re interested in this man, you must get his attention.”
Her answer surprised Isabella. “Really?”
“You are a strong woman, but your responsibilities are immense. You need a strong man to walk beside you, to help you.” Magdalena dropped her voice. “To hold you tight at night.”
Isabella blushed. “I’m not sure if I can do that, he seems to be blind where I’m concerned.”
“Open his eyes, you can do it, I have faith in you. Now, let’s get this meal on the table so you can get down to some serious…business.”
A laugh burst from Isabella’s lips. “I love you, Magdalena.”
“I love you too, my bambino.”
Over the next few minutes, Magdalena and the other kitchen help moved all the food to the dining room. Isabella supervised, not that she was needed, but they all loved her enough to pretend. Once everything was settled, she took a seat directly across from Benedict Redford. “Please, help yourself. I hope you find our food to be to your taste.”
Bull nodded at the vision before him. “I’m sure it’s wonderful.” He didn’t know a lot about the dishes he was eating, he couldn’t even pronounce their names. All he did know was that he could’ve been eating cardboard, for his attention was completely focused on what was going on under the table.
“Uncle, what bulls are you planning on showing to Mr. Redford?”
Bull jumped as he felt another faint touch to his inner thigh. Was he imagining things? Jerking his head up, his eyes clashed with big brown ones. There was a wicked little light shining in them and the slight smile on her face confirmed his suspicions. Even though Bull was wearing boots, Isabella was playing her own form of footsie. She’d bypassed his feet and gone straight for the goods.
Another nudge, a harder one, an obvious caress that was drawing nearer…nearer…
God, that woman had long legs.
He pinned her with a stare and widened his eyes, trying to tell her without words to knock it off.
The little minx had the audacity to wink at him.
“Well…let me see.” Don Luis’s words were slurring more than before. By now, he’d had eight or more drinks, Bull had lost count. “I think he should see Valiente and Feroz.”
Isabella made a show of considering his words, placing a small finger to the side of her mouth. “Let me think,” she mused, using the pause to slide the sole of her foot seductively between Benedict’s legs. He had no idea that she knew exactly what lay waiting there. Once she found her destination, her…rock-solid destination, she wiggled her toes.
“Hey!” Bull exclaimed. “How about another tortilla?” he added lamely.
“Si, of course,” Isabella handed him a basket covered by a colorful napkin. “Indulge and have some honey.” She passed him a glass container full of the sweet nectar. “Man shouldn’t live by bread alone, he deserves something…” Nudge. Wiggle. “Sweet.”
Bull growled and groaned, causing Don Luis to study him with concern. “Do you have indigestion, Senor?”
Bull glowered at Isabella. “No, I have a pain in the…”
“You know what I think?” Isabella interrupted his explanation. “I think Valiente is an excellent choice. His bloodline dates back to Diablo, a famous bull who battled the matador El Chicorro in Madrid. He weighs in at twenty-two hundred pounds and stands five feet seven inches tall at the shoulder. His scrotum is sixteen inches in diameter. He is a proven breeder and has sired some fine calves with manageable birth weights.”
Bull stared at Isabella with his mouth open.
“Feroz is a good choice also,” Isabella continued. “He is descended from Murcielago who survived twenty-four picador jabs. At last check-in, he outweighed Valiente by fifty pounds, but he is three inches shorter. His scrotum is an impressive seventeen and a half inches. He has already set a record for his stud fees, he would be an asset to your program.”
“Are you finished, Isabella?” Don Luis bit out at her with ferocity. “Memorizing data doesn’t make you a cattlewoman.”
“Neither does merely knowing the back of a bull from its front.” She gave Bull one last erotic stroke to his cock with her nimble little foot, before throwing her napkin down and rising to her feet. “Shall I call Pedro to assist you to your suite, Uncle?”
“Not at all, I am fine.” Don Luis stood, swayed, and grasped the edge of the table for support. “Mr. Benedict, I trust you can find your quarters. I look forward to spending time with you in the morning.”
Bull stood. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I look forward to doing business with you.”
The silence was awkward as Don Luis left the dining table, leaning heavily on his cane.
“He drinks too much,” Isabella said by way of explanation.
Bull threw his napkin on the table. “At least he can blame his ill behavior on alcohol. What was your excuse?”
Isabella threw her hair over her shoulder and moved slowly around the table toward Benedict. “An excuse? You are a man, I am a woman. Is there a better excuse than that?”
Bull backed up as she approached him. “I am a man, but I don’t think you’re quite a woman.”
Holding his gaze, Isabella took a deep breath, arched her back, and thrust her breasts out for him to see. Placing her hands on the feminine mounds, she circled them, caressed them, then lifted them until the nipples were peeking out the top of her dress. “I am a woman, Mr. Redford, a woman who is very attracted to you.” She moved gracefully toward him, but for every step she took forward, he took one step back. As if they were dancing, he didn’t stop until the wall halted his progress and Isabella didn’t stop until she was pressed against him from the tips of her breasts to the tips of her toes. “Kiss me, Mr. Redford. I want to feel your lips against mine.”
Her voice mesmerized him, her scent enflamed him, the heat of her body stole his breath. She seemed so familiar, yet so new. “Isabella, I don’t think…”
“No, please, don’t think.” She clasped his hands
and drew them around her waist. “Touch me.”
Bull stood all he could, then he acted. Wrapping his arms around her, he jerked her close and clashed his mouth to hers. Their bodies fused and they melded together in an electric bond of pleasure. His tongue mated with hers and her hands snaked up to clutch at his thick, powerful biceps.
She felt him tense and her response to that reflex was to rub against him, grinding her mound against his pulsing manhood that was thickening with their every breath.
Bull was stunned. He was experiencing a serious case of déjà vu. She pressed against him, thrusting her hips, and clawing at his shoulders like an uninhibited, little wild thing. He’d never been so excited in his life. Not even…
“Dammit! Isabella, stop!”
He pushed her from him. God, he was confused. For a minute there, he could’ve sworn she was Carmen. “I have business with your uncle and I won’t jeopardize it by getting involved with his charge. You need to take your little femme fatale act and head back to the nursery! I want a woman in my bed, not some adolescent girl!”
“You, don’t know what you want!” She poked him in the chest. “You are so blind you cannot see what is right in front of you!” Taking her hand, she skimmed it down his chest until it landed just above the speedbump of his engorged dick. Holding his gaze, she gave him a seductive smile. “I am no adolescent girl, Mr. Redford. I am a woman fully grown and as capable of doing business in the name of Terra Dura as my uncle.”
With that startling announcement, Isabella whirled and left the room, leaving Bull standing there with an open mouth and an aching cock.
CHAPTER
FIVE
“Well, I’ll be dammed,” Bull muttered as he watched the beautiful woman make her grand exit. Miss Isabella Cortez was proving to be quite a handful.
“Hell.” He’d love to fill his hands with her soft, luscious tits.
Not knowing what else to do, he headed for the stairs. He didn’t get far before the manservant spotted him. “Do you need anything before retiring, Senor?”
“No, I’m good.” He’d already been given a room, more like a suite. “I can find my own way, thank you.”
