Loving That Cowboy

by Victoria Chatham

  “The photographs will be set up on easels on the stage—”

  “Stage?” Trisha leaped to her feet and strode around Samantha’s office wishing she could hit something.

  “Sweetie, I told you this is at the Palliser, one of the best and certainly the oldest hotel in town. It’s a big deal for the publishing house. All you have to do is uncover a portrait and then call that contestant on the stage until the line-up is complete. They’re all of them yummy, I promise you.”

  “Good Lord.” Trisha smacked her hand against her head. “I should have stayed at the YWCA. Life would have been far simpler.”

  “Simpler maybe, but not as much fun, and you my dear English friend, could definitely do with a dose of that.”

  Defeated, Trisha stumbled into the nearest chair. “So what do I need to wear for this bash?”

  “Western wear is good,” Samantha said. “But if you want to knock ‘em dead wear a dress and killer heels.”

  “Like black lace and Louboutin’s?” Trisha asked sarcastically.

  “Just like that,” Samantha agreed.

  Trisha gave her a scathing glance. “Yeah, those I pack with me everywhere I go.”

  Samantha grinned and lifted her eyebrows. “You forget to whom you are talking. I will be your fairy godmother and you shall go to the ball, but now we’re going home for me to change and then we’re going to Sneak-a-Peek.”

  Chapter Six

  As they strolled through the Stampede Grounds, Samantha explained how cowboy Guy Weadick had started the whole show more than a century ago. Trisha half heard the narrative but couldn’t help thinking about Cameron and how right he’d been about the mini-donuts. The bag containing them, fresh from the fryer, warmed her hand just as thinking about him warmed her heart.

  She had to stop that and concentrated instead on steeling herself against the bright lights and the noise around them. Being part of such a large crowd at first set her nerves on edge, but then the sheer novelty of it all lightened her mood.

  She nibbled on another mini-donut, still listening to Samantha but thinking more of Cameron. It was no surprise to her that when she looked up, there he stood. Her hand itched to slip into his, but Samantha would surely notice and prompt a conversation Trisha didn’t want to have.

  “Hello ladies.” Cameron tipped his hat.

  “Well, Mr. Carter, how nice to see you.” Samantha batted her eyelashes at him. Her suspiciously bright smile failed to screen the anything-but-innocent look she slid over him to Trisha and back again. “Could I persuade you to look after my guest for a while? I’ve just spotted someone that I absolutely have to speak to.”

  Samantha melted into the crowd, leaving Trisha and Cameron looking at each other. Momentarily speechless, Trisha took a deep breath and then slid her hand into his. Cameron lifted it and kissed the back of her fingers.

  “I’m glad you did that.”

  “I am too.” Trisha licked her suddenly dry lips, not trusting herself to say more, shocked at herself for having taken the initiative but she so wanted to touch him.

  “Have you been around the sideshows yet?” Cameron placed his arm loosely around her and tugged her to his side.

  She could have shrugged his arm off but she didn’t want to and snuggled closer to him instead, letting herself believe just for a moment that they were like any other couple enjoying the evening. They wandered along the rows of amusement kiosks, jostled with other people enjoying a night amid the lights and bustle of the fair grounds.

  Trisha’s nose twitched at the pungent aromas of deep fryers serving up chicken wings and other things she couldn’t believe people would even think of eating. Cameron’s arm dropped from her shoulders as he stopped to talk to a vendor serving up beef on a bun. Jostled by the crowd, Trisha found herself separated from him and tried to push her way back to his side.

  Then a sound as sharp as the crack of Cameron’s rifle burst in her ears.

  Nausea churned her stomach, her chest tightened and she panicked. She clapped her hands over her ears and ran for the shelter of the nearest kiosk, trembling like a frightened animal.

  Cameron saw her and pushed people out of his way in his hurry to get to her. He crouched beside her, alarmed at the tremors that convulsed her. Heat still radiated off the pavement but he could hear her teeth chattering. She lifted her head and he saw with dismay her wide, sightless eyes.

  “Don’t let it happen,” she hissed at him. “Please don’t let it happen.”

  “Honey, it’s just the fireworks.” Cameron gently reached for her and drew her into his arms. She turned her face into his chest and he felt every shiver and sob that wracked her body.

  The kiosk operator looked at them curiously. “Everything all right there?”

  Cameron nodded but when a rocket burst in a shower of red and green lights above their heads, Trisha went limp.

  “Damn.” As Cameron scooped her into his arms he couldn’t imagine what caused her to be this fearful of loud sounds. It had to have been something truly horrific.

  “She had too much to drink?” The kiosk operator eyed them both with suspicion.

  Cameron shook his head. “Where’s the closest first aid station?”

  “In the Big Four Building.”

  “Thanks.” Cameron picked up Trisha with ease and made his way through the crowds which quickly parted for him as they sensed some emergency. He’d almost made it to the Big Four entrance doors when Trisha whispered, “Why are you carrying me?”

  “You passed out again. I’m taking you to the first aid station.”

  “No. Please don’t.” Trisha wound her arms around his neck and clung tight. “I’m fine. Really.”

  Cameron stopped, carefully set her down on her feet but held her against him. She’d insisted she was fine once before and nearly passed out again. He wasn’t taking any chances now. He examined her face, noticed how pale she was, saw the fatigue in her eyes and realized how exhausted she must be.

  “I’m taking you home,” he said. “Think you can walk back to my truck?”

  She nodded and he slipped his arm around her waist. They didn’t speak during the long hike back to the parking lot.

  His mind raced. Loud noises didn’t just startle her but scared the bejesus out of her. Had she been mugged? Had she been in an accident? Was that it? When they reached his truck he simply lifted her up into it. She was still shivering and he pulled out the blanket from its place behind the seat and wrapped it around her.

  “Trisha ...” he began.

  “No.” She covered her face with her hands. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Cameron glanced at her as he slid into his seat but she had already turned away from him and drawn the blanket up over her face.

  “Where does Samantha live?” he asked.

  “Downtown, by the river,” came the muffled reply. “I don’t know the exact address, but I’ll know it when we get there. It’s off Third Avenue and Eighth Street.”

  Cameron eased into the flow of traffic. It hardly moved, but he hoped the delay might give Trisha time to recover herself.

  Light blazed from bars and restaurants, illuminating the crowds of people congregating on the darkened sidewalks. The traffic continued to move at a snail’s pace, both sides of the street packed with a long line of vehicles. Laughter and a fair amount of hooting and hollering punctuated the hum of idling motors as the traffic backed up between sets of lights.

  The slow drive gave him time to think. How could he get Trisha to talk about what had happened to her? That it was something serious he had no doubt. Her reaction to loud noises and bright lights, the scar on her forehead all indicated something that went deep and was way outside his experience. He braked and turned a corner.

  “Trisha, you need to give me directions from here.” He reached out and gently shook her shoulder.

  The blanket whispered softly against her cheek as she pushed it back, the seat belt creaked as she sat up. He glanced sideways at her
and saw her adjust her hat and carefully finger the fall of hair over the right side of her face.

  “Okay. This is Samantha’s building.” She pointed to a new-looking condo block.

  Cameron parked at the curb but by the time he reached the passenger door she already stood on the sidewalk.

  “There’s no need to walk me to the door. It’s right there.” She indicated the building’s front entrance.

  “There’s every need.” He took her arm, leaving her no time to argue. “This is downtown Calgary, past midnight and Stampede has just started. You have no idea who might be about, what state they might be in or what they might do. Don’t argue.”

  Trisha snapped her mouth shut. Who did he think he was, just taking charge like that? She’d managed on her own for longer than she wanted to admit. Her spark of annoyance quickly faded as she thought of all the kindness he’d shown her. If she were honest, she couldn’t deny the comfort in just letting him take over and relying on him for just a smidgeon of time. They reached the main doors, all sparkling glass and gleaming brass, the whole area bathed in light and observed by security cameras. Trisha keyed Samantha’s security code in on the entrance panel. They listened to it ring but no one answered.

  “Do you need my phone?” Cameron asked.

  “No, thank you.” She pulled out her own phone from her jeans pocket and thumbed a speed dial number, listening for a moment to the ring tone. When she didn’t get an answer, she quickly keyed in a text message. They waited in silence for a response, but none came. “Well, I guess if all else fails I’ll get a hotel for the night.”

  “First night of Stampede?” Cameron shook his head. “Forget it. Everything even half way decent will have been booked for months in advance and anything else is no place for you. Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “My brother’s house.”

  “Will he mind?”

  Cameron snorted with something like derision. “He’s never there. Mackenzie heads security for a diamond cutting company in Mauritius. He won’t be here until Christmas or New Year, if at all. I deal with the real estate agent who sets up corporate rentals for him. It’s between tenants right now and it’s empty.”

  He boosted her into the truck and again they were driving, this time crossing the river.

  Trisha lost all sense of direction as Cameron negotiated intersections and bends in the road, but then he turned on to a driveway, hit a remote on his visor and drove into the garage that opened up in front of them. She listened to the light clank of the overhead door closing and caught her breath. Here she was again, in a strange location with a man she now knew only slightly better than two days ago.

  Was it really only two days? It was more like years. That she had known him forever. That he had always been in her life instead of appearing in it just a short while ago. She slid out of the truck.

  Cameron turned on a light and unlocked a door which Trisha supposed must lead into the house. “This way. I’ll show you to the guest room.”

  She followed him through the doorway, fixing her eyes on his broad back and reining in the urge to run her hands over the curves of his butt. She’d forgotten that all consuming hot, hungry sensation of wanting someone, of needing their touch so much her body ached. That hunger raced through her now but hotter, more demanding. She wanted him. Needed him so much it almost blinded her.

  He turned to her as they reached the stairs and caught his breath at the sight of her face, pale but for the high, bright spots of color in her cheeks. Her eyes were wide and suspiciously bright, her lips slightly parted and moist as if she’d just licked them. If she hadn’t then hell, he’d lick them for her. He stopped so abruptly she almost walked in to him.

  “Trisha, have you any idea what your eyes are saying to me?” he asked softly.

  She shook her head.

  “You’re looking at me like you want to eat me alive.” Cameron took a step closer to her.

  “What if I do?” Guilt and anticipation swirled in her mind. Suddenly tired of the burden she carried, she allowed anticipation to push the guilt aside. Heat surged in her veins as he took another step towards her.

  “What if I can’t say no?” Cameron watched the pink tip of her tongue sweep across her lower lip. He groaned inwardly. Did she have to do that right then? His pulse hiked up a notch.

  She looked up at his taut features, the skin stretched across his cheek bones and jaws, his nostrils pinched as if holding his breath. Reaching up she touched the flat plane of his cheek with her fingertips.

  “What if I don’t want you to?”

  The barely stifled groan she’d heard moments ago now rumbled deep in his throat and for a moment Trisha was afraid he would turn away from her. But then he hooked a finger into her belt and gently pulled her up against his body.

  “If you want to say ‘No’, now is the time to do it,” he whispered, “because if I kiss you properly, the way I want to, with my tongue deep in your throat, I will not be able to stop.”

  She saw the glitter of arousal in his eyes, the evidence of it hard in his jeans where her belly butted against his. Her own arousal signalled itself with a rush of heat between her legs.

  She closed her eyes as she raised her face for his kiss. His lips were full and soft, light as a dream but she sensed the weight of wanting in them and opened her mouth, inhaling with sheer delight as his tongue slid against hers. She couldn’t think, didn’t want to think. Only wanted to give in to the sensations that raced through her, to feel again emotions suppressed for far too long. She teased Cameron’s tongue, exploring its soft underside with her own, relished the heat and shape of his mouth and taste of his lips.

  She hooked her leg around his to hold him closer, gave in to her own increasing demands and strained against him. Cameron grasped her buttocks and lifted her up.

  “Do you want it hard and fast or slow and easy?” His whisper flowed as sweet as molten honey across her neck.

  Sliding her other leg around him she gripped him tightly, balancing her core against his centre. The pounding threat of her climax tightened the muscles in her lower belly.

  “Hard.” She gripped him more tightly.

  Cameron took a step and boosted her up against the wall. Held in place with a firm surface at her back and the hot reality of his erection between her legs, she cried out as Cameron dipped his head and swept his tongue up the long line of her throat.

  “Come for me, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Just let go.”

  She moaned and bucked against him while his firm but gentle fingers kneaded the soft curves of her buttocks. Each time he squeezed she pushed hard against him.

  “That’s it, Trish, let me have it.” He held her to him, grinding his body against hers until her moan became a gasp.

  She arched against him and threw her head back. It hit the wall with a bang as she convulsed against his erection and a cry of delight burst from her throat. Even with the fabric of their jeans between them Cameron felt her unexpectedly strong climax as it rippled through her.

  He closed his eyes as he buried his face into her shoulder. For a moment he just held her, adjusting his furious breathing with hers. Gradually she relaxed and he lifted his head and looked at her. Was this the same girl? Her eyes were closed and her lashes fanned across her pink-flushed cheeks. A smile hovered on her lips. Then she opened her eyes and looked into his.

  “That wasn’t enough, Cameron. Please take me to bed.” She dropped her head onto his shoulder and pressed her lips against his neck. She nibbled at his ear lobe and used her tongue in a way that made him forget his name.

  The ache in his jeans was not going to go away, and she had asked him to take her to bed. She’d even said please. His momma raised him to always help a lady, so he did just that.

  Chapter Seven

  Cameron carried her upstairs with no effort at all. He nudged open a door with his shoulder. In the dim light filtering through the window, Trisha could make out the outline of
the bed and sighed with pleasure as Cameron laid her on it.

  “You’re very good at putting me to bed.” Her voice quivered a little with a hint of laughter.

  “I’m glad you think so.” Cameron sank down beside her and grinned as she turned to him and pressed her body against his. He started to stroke her hair back from her face but she caught his wrist.

  “Not that,” she whispered against his chest.

  Her sudden stillness caused him to pause, but he caught her fingers and kissed them.

  “All right, not that,” he agreed. He remembered the scar her hair screened, wanted to know the cause of it but knew that question would have to wait.

  She relaxed into him and wound her arms around his waist, lifted her face for the kiss he was more than happy to oblige her with. His heart pounded painfully in his chest as his lips covered hers. Blood rushed in his ears as he pulled her closer. Her frantic fingers tugged at his shirt and pulled the fabric free from the restraint of his waistband. Cool air flowed across his skin like a whisper as she pushed his shirt aside.

  Her lips trailed across his stomach, followed by the wet heat of her tongue as she slowly swept it across his bare chest. His nipples tightened as she circled one, then the other with a slow, teasing finger tip. She straddled him and continued to trace the outline of his chest muscles with her fingernails. He closed his eyes when she leaned over him, her hair falling forward on his face. Then she kissed him, her ravenous mouth every bit as demanding as his had been.

  His hands swept up into her hair and he cradled the back of her head, meeting her tongue with a wildness that made him forget the world outside the window, forget everything except the woman he held here and now in his arms. But holding her wasn’t enough. He wanted to see her, to kiss every inch of her, to be inside her. He rolled her onto her back and started to unbutton her shirt with trembling fingers.