The Cowboy and the Angel

by T. J. Kline

  She blushed, unsure of how to finish without sounding like a lovesick teenager. He leaned back on his elbow, basking in her praise, and arched an eyebrow, waiting to see what she might say next. He certainly didn’t need her to feed his ego.

  “Well, look at you.”

  He laughed again. “It’s funny what a few months of hard work out here will do for you. Taking care of cattle, tossing hay bales—all of it makes weightlifting look like child’s play. Although Clay and I do have a makeshift gym at his place.”

  “I knew it. You’re a gym-junkie,” she teased. “All brawn and no brains.” She was finding it difficult to stay angry at him when he stopped giving her his death-glare and began to relax around her. She could glimpse the mischievous boy Silvie talked about.

  “Hardly.” He frowned and she detected a note of bitterness in his voice. “Now that Scott stays here at the ranch and I’m arena director, I’m on the road far more than I’m ever here.”

  “You don’t like it?” He shrugged but she could see it was meant to redirect their conversation and didn’t take his bait. “Are you and your brother close?”

  “We’re closer now than we have been in the past.” She could see him shutting off as he rose and made his way to the horses. “You finished?”

  She arched a brow, not distracted so easily. “Changing the subject? What happened to that ‘open book’?” He looked back at her, and she could see he was trying to decide whether or not to answer her questions. “Why weren’t you close before?”

  Derek sighed and turned back toward the horses. “When our parents died, Scott decided he had to be the one in charge. He wasn’t very old but he’s always been the serious one and he tried to act like my father. I didn’t like it. It caused friction.”

  She rose and made her way toward him, wincing with every step but intent on seeing his expression. She knew what he left unsaid was just as important as anything he admitted. “Friction?” She edged closer.

  He kept his attention focused on his horse. “Up until this past year, I haven’t exactly stepped up to help with the family business the way I should have.”

  She moved to stand in front of him, placing her hand on the rump of the horse beside her. “Why not?”

  He shrugged again, but she wasn’t about to be deterred and remained in his way. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I guess because I didn’t have to. Scott was always right there to take the lead or pick up whatever I let slide.”

  She could see the shadow of disappointment flicker in his eyes and the tension bunching his shoulders even as he was trying to maintain his usual blasé attitude. The reporter in her wanted to press him with more questions, to delve further into the family dynamic and see what secrets might be hidden, but she could see him closing himself off to further discussion. She needed to earn his trust before he’d reveal much more, which just didn’t seem possible with their current circumstances.

  She glanced at the water over her shoulder and Angela saw him stiffen slightly in preparation for her next question. “So, how many other girls have you brought here?”

  She saw his relief at the change of subject. “One or two.” He winked at her as she twisted her mouth in disbelief.

  “Right. I’d bet that between you and your brother, there isn’t a girl on this side of the state who hasn’t been to this lake.”

  He laughed out loud. “Maybe it was a few more than that. You know, Scott used to call it ‘Make-Out Creek.’” He arched a brow and a playful grin spread slowly over his lips, making her nervous. “Come on.”

  He reached for her hand and pulled her toward the water. She tried to ignore the electric jolt of pleasure that shot up her arm, sending needles of desire into her chest. “Where are we going? Slow down,” she groaned, running behind him stiffly.

  Derek stopped at the edge of the water and pulled his boots off, dropping his socks inside, and reached for the hem of his t-shirt.

  “What in the world are you doing?” She felt her cheeks burn, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from the bronze expanse of skin he revealed.

  “Going for a swim. Coming?”

  She spread her hands in front of her indicating her clothing. “In jeans?”

  “Or not,” he suggested, his eyes gleaming mischievously as he unlatched his belt, sliding it through the loops and dropping it on his boots. He popped the button on his jeans and her eyes widened.

  “Are you serious?”

  His eyes darkened as her gaze slid over his chest and back to his face. She forced herself to keep her eyes above his neck when he slid his pants down his thighs. Even as she tried to catch her breath, her imagination ran wild with images of what he would look like without his pants.

  Derek shrugged, unabashed, and tossed his baseball cap on top of the pile of clothing. “Suit yourself, Angel.” He turned and headed for the inviting water.

  She couldn’t help but break her vow, allowing her gaze to wander down his chiseled back to take in the dark boxer briefs that cradled his firm round butt as strong thighs flexed with his every step. He walked until the water hit his knees before diving in, surfacing and swiping water away from his face and through his dark hair.

  “You’re really not coming in?” He was teasing her but he almost sounded disappointed.

  She forced herself to walk away from the edge of the water. She spotted a large rock along the shore and sat down. “No, I’m really not.”

  Removing her boots and socks, she rolled up her pants to her knees and dipped her toe into the water. It wasn’t as cold as she’d expected, so she slid both feet in, letting the weeds underwater tickle the bottom of her feet. Derek swam toward her slowly and she narrowed her eyes at him, pointing a finger his direction.

  “Don’t,” she warned.

  “You should probably take off anything you want to stay dry.” His eyes gleamed, and he shot her an impish grin. “Riding in wet clothes sucks,” he pointed out.

  She tried to remember what sort of underwear she’d put on in her rush to get dressed this morning, praying that she’d opted for something at least somewhat substantial. She jumped up from the rock as he reached for her ankle.

  “Fine, but you go over there, cowboy.” She pointed toward the middle of the lake and glared at him, trying to stay angry at him and finding it increasingly difficult when he turned on the charm. “Why do I get the feeling it wasn’t your brother who named this place?”

  Derek laughed as she unbuttoned her pants and slipped them to her hip, relieved when she saw her striped bikini underwear.

  They cover as much as bathing suit bottoms.

  She stalled for time, sliding her jeans over her thighs and folding her pants, laying them on her borrowed boots. She refused to look at him as she edged closer to the water and walked into it up to her waist, the hem of her tank top getting wet.

  “Leaving your shirt on?” She glanced his way in time to see him standing in waist deep water, his eyes glittering with desire and something she hadn’t seen yet. He was completely relaxed. She’d seen him playful and teasing, but this was the first time she’d seen him without the shadow of worry and doubt that seemed to dog every conversation.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Party pooper,” he whispered, moving closer and reaching for her wrist.

  “I prefer ‘cautious.’” His fingers closed over her hand while his other arm found her waist, pulling her against his chest, stealing the breath from her lungs as he moved farther into the center of the lake.

  “Chicken?”

  “Guarded,” she admitted.

  “I promised you earlier, I won’t ask you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

  Derek wound his other arm around her waist and let his hands knead the tense muscles of her lower back, sending spirals of longing along the length of her spine. Water swirled around their shoulders, her toes no longer touching the bottom of the lake as he held her to him. She could feel his arousal pressing against her through the thin barrie
r of their undergarments and she trembled, wishing for the first time that she could follow her desires instead of common sense. Letting him touch her, gripping the slick muscles of his forearms, feeling her nipples tighten in her bra, she would give anything to give in to her hunger for this man. But she knew giving in would be a mistake. Maybe not tomorrow but next week, or the week after, when the story aired, when his family was forced to suffer the repercussions from protestors and possible investigations, he would hate her.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he promised, lifting one of her arms to his shoulder. “Relax. Trust me.”

  “That’s a lot more dangerous than it sounds.”

  “Angel, I think I have more to lose here than you do.” Derek gave her a lopsided grin and brushed a lock of hair from her face.

  “You might be surprised,” she whispered at his chest, unable to meet his eyes.

  He tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him. “Open book?”

  She couldn’t admit to him why this story was so important. He couldn’t possibly understand the need to escape with her father, especially when it would jeopardize his future. Everything in her wanted to open up, to allow his broad shoulders to bear some of the weight she carried each day. She’d been caring for her father and hiding his problems since she was a child. She would have given anything for someone to tell her it was no longer necessary. And if Derek wanted her to trust him . . . What was she thinking? She barely knew him. With his arms around her, sapping at her will to remain distant, she almost gave in to this fantasy he created. She pushed away from his shoulders and swam away, trying to get some distance from him to help her think clearly.

  She turned to face him from the bank, wishing she didn’t feel the dull hopelessness creeping over her. “I never claimed to be an open book.” Angela sat on the rock and drew her knees to her chest, ignoring the water coursing down her legs and back and puddling on the ground.

  “Fair enough,” he agreed, still watching her intently. “Then where does that leave us? What can we talk about?”

  She rested her chin on her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs, creating a barrier between them. “Rodeo, I guess. It’s why I’m here.” She shrugged, wishing that they could have met under different circumstances. “According to you, I have a lot to learn in a very short time. So teach me.”

  “Rodeo,” he repeated as he walked to the edge of the water and made his way to his clothing. He watched her, narrowing his eyes intently as if trying to read her thoughts. Derek’s gaze was warm but piercing, reaching into her soul, imploring her to confide in him.

  She tried desperately to avoid his penetrating eyes, which caused an entirely different problem. Her gaze shifted to the droplets of water as they fell from his chest, down the planes of his stomach and lower. Her breath caught, his wet clothing leaving little to her imagination. She deliberately turned so she faced the horses until she heard the clink of his belt. Angela turned back in time to see him tighten the belt before running a hand through his wet hair, causing it to stand up at odd angles. He slapped his hat onto his head and frowned at her.

  “Angel, I can think of a hundred things that would be more fun to do with you instead of talking about rodeo.” His voice was husky with desire as he reached for his shirt, but he broke the tension with a quick kiss on her cheek. “I guess you’re all work and no play, huh?”

  She laid her cheek on her knee and looked up at him, wishing that for a moment she could follow her heart instead of her head, regardless of the consequences. But her heart wasn’t going to pay for rehab for her father; her heart wasn’t going to find a way out of the guilt her father’s drinking had doomed her to live in.

  Derek reached for her and gently caressed her cheek with his thumb. He acted as if he wanted to say something but restrained himself. It wasn’t what she expected and made her feel like a tease, drawing him close then pushing him away. Derek didn’t react the way most men would. He intrigued her as much as he confused her.

  “Rodeo it is, then,” he agreed, sitting on the ground beside her. “Let’s start with the first event.”

  Chapter Nine

  * * *

  DEREK HADN’T MEANT to ignore her on the way to the lake, but he needed to get a grip on the desire rushing through his veins, threatening to consume him. Space had been the only way to accomplish it, and even that hadn’t been enough to cool the longing pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He’d never wanted a woman the way he did Angela. Maybe it was because she was dangerous, off limits, but when she was in his arms, she sure didn’t feel forbidden. She felt willing and sweet and tempting. He hadn’t meant to reveal anything about his family to her, but when she turned those emerald eyes on him, she had a way of getting him to let his guard down.

  He watched as she finished grooming the mare, wanting to sneak behind her and press his mouth over the bared curve of her neck, to kiss her shoulder and feel her tremble the way she had in the lake. He wanted to cause the goose bumps to rise on her flesh again and felt his body answer with his own unfulfilled need.

  She dusted her hands off on her jeans and turned toward him, catching him mid-fantasy. “Take her back to the stall?”

  She was learning quickly, and by Thursday’s rodeo, she would probably be able to saddle her own horse. He leaned against the corral fence. “You remember how I showed you to lead her?”

  Angela nodded, her ponytail flipping over her shoulder, making her look innocent and . . . well, adorable. What he wouldn’t give to press a kiss to her pretty pink lips.

  Down, boy. This filly is pretty skittish.

  But, damn, if she didn’t make him want to gentle her, even when she was being obstinate. He wanted to find out what it was that drove her, what was going on behind those green eyes that made her so sad at times. He wanted to know what caused the near impenetrable wall that protected her heart. Something had her scared, and he was determined to find out what it was.

  “You coming?” She stopped and looked back at him nervously.

  “I think you have this.” Derek didn’t want to push her too hard and hoped she’d make the next move. He winked at her. “Unless you want me to come?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever you want to do, cowboy. First stall, right?”

  Derek nodded. He was disappointed but he wasn’t going to let it deter him. He had a few more days of her undivided attention to get her to warm up to him. He hung back at the corral, his hands unsaddling his gelding while he watched her from the corner of his eye.

  “How’d it go today?” Mike asked as he leaned against the corral fence, watching Angela in the barn. “She’s putting Honey away by herself?”

  “She did well. We checked out most of the north pasture, to the lake at least, and she asked a lot of questions about rodeo.”

  “Enough to know what she’s looking at this weekend? I’m so tired of hearing that using a flank strap is abuse.”

  Derek shrugged and nodded. “She will by Thursday.” He pulled the saddle from his gelding’s back and set it on the fence, turning the animal loose in the corral. “You realize she’s hiding something.” Mike cocked his head to the side in question. “I don’t know what it is, but . . .” Derek let his words falter, unsure what else to say.

  “Silvie and Sydney said the same thing. Something’s haunting that girl. I saw it in her eyes that first day.” Mike shrugged his shoulders and waved a hand. “Who knows, maybe that’s why I invited her.”

  He clapped the older man on his shoulder. “Your soft heart is going to get us into trouble one of these days. You can’t keep taking in every stray and trying to fix every broken heart.”

  Derek knew he was wasting his breath. It was just one of the things that made Mike who he was. After all, he’d taken in three homeless kids and raised them as his own. Derek couldn’t help but wonder if Mike hadn’t bitten off more than he could chew this time. Angela was tenacious. She wanted a story, for whatever reason, and she didn’t seem inclined to give up until s
he had one.

  ANGELA PUSHED HER computer away from her on the bedspread. She couldn’t watch another gruesome video. She’d seen enough animals with broken limbs being tormented or shocked with electric prods to make her sick to her stomach. How could Derek or anyone else defend these actions? The image of frightened baby cattle trying to run from the arena with legs obviously broken burned behind her eyes. Rubbing her forehead with her fingers, she sighed, wondering if these videos were indicative of what she was going to have to watch on a daily basis for the next few weekends.

  Her fingers found the ring on her necklace and began rolling it between her fingers, wishing, as she often did, that her mother would give her a sign, some sort of advice, on which direction to take. She was met with only the silence of her room and the steady thud of her heartbeat.

  After unsaddling the horse she’d begged off eating with the family, claiming she wanted to do some research. In reality she’d needed to put some space between Derek and her raging hormones. That man was enough to make a nun forget her vow of chastity. It barely took a look from those dark chocolate eyes of his and she melted into a puddle of quivering desire. It had taken every bit of self-control at the lake for her to keep from wrapping her legs around his waist and letting him satisfy the need she felt burning inside her. She’d never ached for a man before or craved the feeling of his hands on her skin and fantasized about what it would feel like to finally give in to him. Every feeling was completely foreign and frightening. It was the fear that made her feel the need to hide.