A Cowboy Worth Claiming

by Charlene Sands

  Chapter Eight

  Sunshine poked its way into Lizzie’s room, disrupting her sleep. The warmth spread through her and she rebelled against the morning by refusing to open her eyes. A feather-down mattress and soft sheets cradled her aching body in a cocoon of comfort granting her the best sleep of her life.

  She raised her arms over her head and pointed her toes, elongating her body in a taut rejuvenating stretch. Her muscles cried with relief. She wiggled her toes and grinned. A sigh escaped from deep within her and her entire body relaxed. She had every intention of curling back into the luxury of the bed, when a knock sounded at her door.

  “Lizzie, it’s me.”

  She sat up. Her eyes popped open and she squinted from the sunlight streaming in. “Chance? Oh, uh, just a second. I’m not dressed.”

  She bounded up quickly and stubbed her little toe on the edge of the bed. “Ouch!”

  “Lizzie, I’m waitin’.”

  She rubbed her toe. “I’m coming,” she called out. She glanced at the wall clock as it chimed the nine o’clock hour. Heavens, was it really that late? For all her days, she couldn’t remember another time when she’d slept this long.

  Chance paced behind the door and knocked again. “How long’s it take to get dressed?”

  Lizzie washed her face and grabbed at the dress lying on the silk screen. Still a bit groggy, she fumbled with it, but managed to finally slip it over her head. Smoothing the gown out with haste, next she ran her fingers through her hair. Chance wouldn’t wait much longer. They had to get to the stockyards and see about the herd. With any luck, they’d be on their way home before noon.

  “Lizzie,” he said, impatient, just as she yanked open the door.

  “What?” Seeing Chance first thing in the morning wasn’t a hardship, no matter how much she denied it. For one moment, she forgot she was mad as a hatter at him.

  He strode into her room, taking the hat from his head. His eyes immediately went to the now-empty bed and the tangled sheets. “I see you slept like a hog in heaven.”

  “I did not!” He dared compare her to a hog.

  He grinned.

  “Wipe that silly smile off your face, Chance. You lied to me.”

  Chance’s eyes narrowed to slits and his tone grew serious. “Don’t be calling me a liar, Lizzie.”

  Her chin came up. “I will. We made a deal last night. Bet you forgot your promise the second you walked out of the hotel.”

  He folded his arms across his chest and spoke with enough confidence to confuse her. “You’d lose that bet, Lizzie.”

  “You didn’t knock on my door last night.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I knocked.”

  She’d waited for his knock. Each minute that had ticked by crushed her with disappointment. Finally, she’d slid into the comfort of the bed, waiting like a fool, for Chance to live up to his part of the bargain. “Well, I didn’t hear anything.”

  Chance put his hands on his hips, peering at her as if she were a child needing a good reprimand. “That’s because you were sleeping the sleep of the dead. I knocked, just like I said. Twice. I heard you snoring, so I walked off and went to bed.”

  “I don’t snore, Chance Worth.”

  “You make noise when you sleep, Lizzie. And that’s a fact. Same thing happened this morning. I came to get you. I knocked a few times.”

  Her eyes widened. She vaguely remembered hearing something like a bump or a knock as she dozed this morning, but she’d put it out of her hazy mind and gone back to sleep. Dawning awareness crept in, replacing her disappointment. The bed had been heaven to sink into last night and she might have drifted off quicker than she recalled. “You were here this morning? Why?”

  “I came to get you. We had heifers to sell, remember?”

  “Of course, I remember. I just… I just slept a little late. We can go now.” Lizzie turned and grabbed her boots. She sat on the rumpled bed, and lifted one boot to her foot.

  “There’s no need to go now. I’ve already gone.”

  Startled by his triumphant tone, she asked, “What? You went without me?”

  “I sure did and it’s a good thing, too. Met a cattle broker eager to buy the entire herd. Seems the big sale they’d expected this week didn’t happen. One of the herds ran into trouble along the trail. That’s why the stockyard was empty yesterday. Bad news for them. Good news for us.”

  Lizzie lifted off the bed, her heart beating like crazy. “How is it good news? Tell me, Chance. Tell me!”

  Chance pulled a paper from his vest pocket. He took his time unfolding it. Lizzie grabbed the note from his hand and quickly read the bill of sale. The calculations jumped off the page. Those numbers were all she noticed. She stared at them, then her entire body began shaking, her hands trembling so badly she could hardly hold on to the note. “But, but… This is three dollars a head more than we expected!”

  Chance nodded with a broad smile. “Yep, it is. All we need is your signature.”

  This meant a whole new beginning for the ranch, for her and most importantly for her grandfather. Tears stung behind her eyes and a burden lifted from her shoulders. She flung the note aside and bounded straight into Chance’s arms. “We did it! We did it, Chance.”

  Chance didn’t return her embrace at first, but Lizzie clung to him, not caring a dang bit about her display. Then a rumble of pure laughter rose up from his throat and his arms came around her waist. Her senses heightened. His soapy-fresh scent wafted down as he held her to his chest. She laughed, too, and felt herself being lifted from the ground and twirled into a wide circle until her toes came off the floor and her gown flowed in a moon-shaped arch. Her heart swelling with joy, when her feet hit the ground again she stared into Chance’s eyes. Lifting herself up, she pressed half a dozen kisses to his cheeks murmuring, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

  Chance had a smile on his face, too, but his expression changed with that last peck to his cheek. It was a look she’d not seen on him before. His lips straightened to a fine line. His gaze, fastened to her mouth now, turned molten like steaming hot molasses. Every nerve jolted in awareness and pure desire bubbled up inside her. She shivered with a need too powerful to ignore. She wouldn’t stop to think about what she was doing. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted up again, brushing her mouth to his cheek once more, slowly this time, savoring the taste of him on her lips, drinking in the feel of his taut skin and manly stubble, breathing in the subtle scent of earth and soap. His name whispered from her throat. “Chance.”

  She stood poised there, with her lips so close to his mouth, her heart beating nearly through her chest. His hand came up to her head and he spread fingers through her hair. He made a sound, a low, deep guttural groan right before he turned his head toward her mouth. Their lips hovered dangerously close.

  Kiss me, Chance. Kiss me like a man would kiss a woman.

  “Lizzie,” he rasped. “Don’t tempt me like this.”

  She gazed into his eyes and he seemed lost, searching. For a measure of time, she feared he would reject her. Feared that he would back away with a reprimand. She prayed it wasn’t so. His hand tightened in her hair and he lifted her face ever closer as he bent his head down to her. Anticipation swarmed in her belly. He inhaled a sharp breath and then his lips bore down on her mouth.

  His mouth was rough on hers, like a thirsty man who couldn’t get enough to drink. He held her tight, giving her no choice to deny him, no choice but to kiss him back. It was heaven, being in his arms, having him devour her this way. His body pressed close. His big hand wove through her hair. The swarming in her belly grew intense. Tiny impulses prickled her below the waist. She’d never met with these sensations before. She’d never been kissed before. She didn’t know for certain if what she was experie
ncing was normal or expected. There was so much she didn’t know.

  Yet kissing him this way and pleasuring him seemed natural. It seemed right. Instincts took over and her body surrendered to Chance. She would give him anything he asked. Her spirit was buoyed by the notion and her kisses deepened with his urging.

  “Lord above, Lizzie,” he whispered between kisses and then something miraculous happened. Something powerful and unexpected. Chance parted her lips and as her mouth fell open, he drove his tongue inside. The first brushing of their tongues shot through her like a jolt of lightning. The impact was startling, a new revelation, and Lizzie experienced a sense of womanhood, maybe for the first time in her life. Stirrings gripped and surprised her. A tiny moan of gratification escaped her throat and Chance immediately drew her up closer, telling her the sound had pleased him. Her dress rustled against his trousers as an achingly slow pressure began to build below her waist. Her bosom swelled, making her nipples bud to upturned peaks. Even through the layers of their clothes, the intimate position spurred a sense of femininity and desire.

  While she was soft as jelly, Chance’s body grew hard. His thighs were unyielding as they brushed hers, his chest, a wall of power. His mouth, though, was giving even in his boldness as he took liberties with her. She wouldn’t think to refuse him. Not when he brought her such immense, unexpected pleasure. His tongue probed the hollow depths of her mouth and she welcomed the intrusion. Their tongues met and danced and entwined, enveloping her in a lusty frenzy that spun her mind. Dictated by her body’s impulses, she moved closer. A stampede of tingles pricked her skin and the pressure building inside intensified until Lizzie’s legs could barely hold her upright. She wobbled, but Chance gripped her tight against him, protecting her from the fall.

  Their hips smacked against each other and he let out a helpless groan. Lizzie’s pulse raced and her breathing defied nature. Chance struggled to keep a distance between them, but Lizzie pressed herself to him once again. Her female instincts, ones she could not yet fully describe, took over her body. A need grew and the unrequited throbbing frightened her some, but at the same time, made her wish for more and more.

  Chance took that moment to release her mouth from the kiss and the loss was almost too much to bear. She caught her breath and so did he, then his lips moved over her chin to brush more kisses to the underside of her throat. His hair brushed her chin and tickled her there, but she didn’t giggle. No, she could only breathe in his soap scent and fill her nostrils with it as he worked his capable mouth down to her shoulders.

  At the same time his lips moistened her skin he brought his hands around her waist and slid his palms up the sides of her torso. His thumbs caressed the outer swell of her breasts and the peaks lifted in response, straining against the gown’s material.

  “Chance, touch me there.”

  Heaven above, she hadn’t meant to plead aloud. She gasped, not from humiliation but because he obeyed the command.

  His lips moved along her shoulders, moistening her bare skin, while his thumbs pressed the side of her breasts. Pleasure shot clear through her. She held her breath and her pulse pounded hard against her chest. He brought his mouth achingly close to the top swell of her breasts as his thumb moved closer and closer. Anticipation grew, her nipples puckered and when his thumb flicked her pebbled peak, waves of sizzling heat scorched her belly. He rubbed her there, circling around the most sensitive area and Lizzie grew faint with need. It was as if the material hadn’t provided a barrier. As if she felt his wondrous touch, skin to skin. Her entire body was attuned and waiting for more. “Oh…Chance,” she whispered, her throat barely working. “Don’t stop. Please.”

  He froze. She sucked in a breath, willing him to continue, to move his hands over her body, to kiss the very tips of her bosom as she so wanted. This time, her plea had a different effect. He appeared to have come out of a daze. His lashes lifted in several blinks and his mouth whipped away from her chest. The strong hands that had pleasured her expertly dropped to his sides. A look of recrimination stole over his features. His stare brought shivers of dread to her stomach.

  He stepped back quickly, as if she’d lit him on fire.

  “Chance?”

  There was the slightest shake of his head, a quick dismissal. Lips that had greedily taken hers, tightened to thin lines. “Go ahead and sign the note, Lizzie.”

  He bent to pick it up from the floor.

  “Chance, you can’t…you and I…we…” The sweet pleasure he’d inflicted still hummed throughout her body. She never wanted the feeling to go away.

  Chance folded the note then tucked it into his pocket. “Never mind. You’ll sign it at the stockyard.”

  “It was my first kiss,” she said quietly, standing there watching him pull away from her.

  He winced, his face twisting for a split second, before he set his expression back to stone. He picked up her boots and set them in her hands. “It was just a kiss, Lizzie. Just consider it one more lesson I’ve taught you on the trail.”

  She blinked, fighting off sudden disappointment, then lowered down on the bed and laced up her boots. Chance strode to the door, waiting. The thrill of being in his arms hadn’t diminished, neither had her joy over selling the herd for a lucrative amount of money. Her pulse still pounded and her flesh still ached for his touch. She hadn’t wanted that kiss to end.

  Once her boots were snug on her feet, she marched toward him. Chance still wore his stone face when he opened the door. She hesitated. She’d never been one to hold back from speaking her mind. “I wanted more,” she said.

  His eyes snapped to hers. “Got the best deal I could.”

  “I’m not talking about the herd.”

  Chance inhaled sharp. “Lord above, Lizzie. Don’t go saying things like that.”

  “You wanted more, too,” she said softly, refusing to think for a minute that Chance hadn’t enjoyed kissing her. He may regret kissing her, but he took as much pleasure in that kiss as she had.

  He shook his head, leading her down the stairs. “I’ve said it before, you got a vivid imagination.”

  “I know what I felt.”

  Lizzie bumped into him when he stopped abruptly and turned on his heel. He glanced around the hotel lobby. Not a soul was around. His hands wrapped around her upper arms, getting her attention. His face resembled a block of granite as he peered into her eyes. “Don’t go getting fool notions about me, Lizzie. I’m here, because Edward asked it of me. No other reason. That kiss wasn’t about you and me, it was about me not easing my lust last night. You’d know that, if you weren’t so dang inexperienced. I won’t tie myself to anyone. Not the way you need. It’s best you know that.”

  He let her go and stalked off. Lizzie’s heart just about broke. Her eyes burned as she held back tears. She didn’t know for sure, but she presumed that for most young girls, a first kiss would mean something to both parties partaking and that maybe the thrill would be shared. Lizzie had proven again she wasn’t like most young girls. Up until now, there hadn’t been anyone she’d wanted to kiss, much less allow to take such intimate liberties. With Chance, it had been different. She’d wanted more from him and his rebuke struck her pride. But the hurt went deeper than humiliation. A sense of keen loss hollowed out the pit of her stomach.

  Yet, she couldn’t forget the reason she’d come here or the good the cash earned would do when they returned home. She fought her tears and gathered her strength. Pulling her shoulders back, she lifted her chin and hurried her pace to catch up with him.

  * * *

  Chance quickened his steps, heading toward the stockyard. Thoughts of Marissa Dunston entered his mind. The girl had caused him a wagonload of trouble since the moment she’d stepped foot on the Dunston spread. Her mother, Belinda, had married Alistair shortly after his first wife Clara had died. It had been plain as d
ay, even to a young orphaned boy, that Clara had been the one who’d wanted a son. She would have mothered Chance and accepted him as family, earning his loyalty and love. Once she was gone and Alistair remarried, he’d barely recognized him as an adopted son. Pretty little Marissa, five years younger and deceptively sweet, had taken Chance’s place, if he’d ever had one, in Alistair’s affections.

  Chance had known enough to stay away from Marissa. Unfortunately, she had other plans for him. She’d followed him around on the ranch and gotten him into more trouble than any female was worth.

  Lizzie Mitchell was a different kind of trouble. She didn’t manipulate. She didn’t have female wiles to coax a man to do her bidding. No, Lizzie was too darn innocent for any of that. He didn’t have to look at her walking beside him to know he’d disappointed her. If he was smart, he’d continue to disappoint her. He wasn’t going to kiss her again. He wasn’t going to touch her. Nope, she wasn’t that kind of girl. Unfortunately for him, Lizzie wasn’t experienced enough to know that the way she offered herself to him might have provoked a coupling that she would regret. Chance had lost himself in her beautiful eyes and in her sweet surrender. He’d let his body take control of his mind. Good things would never come of that with Lizzie. It irritated him to high heaven that she hadn’t known enough not to tempt him. It meant that he’d be alone in keeping her reputation intact.

  He had to marry her off.

  For Edward.

  He planned to honor that vow and send Lizzie to her marriage bed, untouched.

  They crossed through town, Lizzie’s shoulders high, but her face a mass of confusion. Westerly breezes brought dust whirls up. It was a good excuse to keep his mouth sealed tight. Lizzie did the same. The walk to the stockyard was silent, and that suited Chance just fine.

  They strode past the Mitchell herd corralled in pens. They were the only cattle taking up space and Chance was glad of it. He led Lizzie into the office. The same white-haired man Chance spoke with this morning rose from behind his desk to shake hands. Chance stepped forward in a quick greeting.