She had always had a crush on him. He had asked her out once, a long time ago, but never repeated the invitation. He still shuddered when he thought of that disastrous date. She had been all over him, clinging to him, offering herself. It had been too much, too soon, even for him. He found out quickly that he felt nothing for Nadine, but she hadn't backed off. The evening ended awkwardly. He had taken her home as soon as he decently could.
Dallas revved the motor of his truck and pulled out of the cafe's small parking lot. That had happened over fifteen years ago. Nadine had been in hot pursuit ever since. Even his marriage hadn't caused Nadine's desire to wane. The woman wasn't playing with a full deck, that was a fact.
Driving down the two-lane highway toward the ranch, Dallas thought of Gillian again. Before long, he found himself parked on the ridge, overlooking the drilling site. As if he had no will of his own, he walked to the edge. The sun was beginning to set, but the men were busy working down below. The drilling never stopped unless there was a problem.
Had Gillian gone to her office to work some more? Or had she gone to her trailer after leaving the cafe? His loins quickened and his groin grew heavy when he thought of her changing out of her work clothes and slipping into something more comfortable. He was as crazy as Nadine, panting after something he could never have. Gillian had made it perfectly clear she didn't like him, maybe even feared him. He frowned. He didn't want to think of her being afraid of him.
What if they could start over? What if she weren't the company representative on the drilling project?
Hell, there was no getting around that fact. But damn, she was attractive. He wanted her. He couldn't get her out of his mind. But Gillian was definitely off-limits.
Dallas kicked a rock over the edge of the ridge. What the hell was he doing, lusting after a married woman? He had better things to do with his time. In four months, if all went well, Gillian Bankston and Copper River Oil would be out of his life. And good riddance. He didn't need this kind of turmoil in his life. He just didn't need it.
CHAPTER THREE
Gillian stood in line at the First National Bank in Salt Fork, fidgeting with her checkbook. She found herself in a near-crisis situation with only herself to blame. Payday was another week away and she was low on cash.
All morning, she had searched the trailer looking for her ATM card. It was nowhere to be found. She couldn't find her debit card anywhere either. She must have left them both in her apartment back in L.A.
She hoped the teller would cash her check because she was seriously short on funds. Eating out everyday was not a good idea. She wasn't usually so careless with her hard-earned money. Nothing seemed to be going her way since she had landed this assignment. If they didn't cash her check, she didn't know what she would do.
Ahead of her in line, a farmer in dirty coveralls concluded his business and stepped away. He tipped his hat in her direction as he walked past. Gillian placed her check on the marble counter in front of the teller.
"Good morning," she said to the gray-haired lady, forcing a smile she was far from feeling. "I need to cash this check. I know it's from out of town, but I have plenty of identification." She rummaged in her purse searching for her driver's license, trying to look confident. "Here it is. I'm working just outside of town. And I really need the money."
She held her breath and ignored the two people in the other line blatantly staring at her.
The teller shook her head and pushed the check back toward her. "I'm sorry, but we can't accept out-of-state checks."
Gillian tried not to panic. "Isn't there some way--?"
She stopped in mid-sentence as a man's hand reached over her shoulder and picked up her check. The smell of clean soap and raw masculinity assailed her senses. The heat from his body made the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck tingle. Instinctively, she knew who it was before she glanced up.
Dallas McCade didn't look at her. He focused his attention on the teller behind the shiny bars separating her from the customers. "Is Carleton in his office, Martha?"
His deep voice sent shivers down Gillian's spine. If he ever decided to be one half as nice to her as he was to others, Gillian would be in trouble big time.
Martha nodded. "Yes, but I don't see how that makes any difference--"
"Have him okay this check," Dallas said, still avoiding Gillian's eyes. "Tell him I'll vouch for the lady. We'll wait." He handed the check to the teller.
Martha looked from Dallas to Gillian, then nodded and headed for the bank president's office.
Dallas stood in Gillian's personal space, his silence unnerving. She felt trapped between the marble counter and the solid masculine body behind her. She tried to turn to face him, wishing he would move back. He was definitely crowding her.
Once again, the belligerent cowboy had come to her rescue. She didn't like being under another obligation to him. He didn't look like he enjoyed helping her out either, if the grim line of his mouth was any indication.
"Thank you." Gillian scooted to the side so she could look at him. "You didn't have to do that."
He held himself stiffly. Was he even going to acknowledge her presence? Finally, he looked at her. His blue eyes snagged hers and curled her toes with their intensity.
When his gaze fell to her mouth, Gillian's breath hitched in her oxygen-deprived lungs. His eyes snapped back to hers. "No problem, Mrs. Bankston. I'm not a complete bastard, whatever you may think."
"I don't think you're a . . ."
"Leave it. We've already been down that road."
Gillian cringed at the roughness of his voice. His angry manner belied his kind act. "Thank you, again," she said. "I really do appreciate it."
For a fleeting moment, his eyes dropped to her mouth again. Gillian's body reacted with such force, her knees turned rubbery and she grabbed the edge of the marble counter to steady herself. The chemistry between them was almost frightening. She'd never experienced anything like it in her life.
"I can help you over here, Dallas," the teller in the next booth called.
Dallas glared at her, touched his hat, then turned and walked to the other window.
Gillian released a pent-up breath and tried to still the pounding in her blood. Dallas McCade stirred up feelings she had long ago abandoned. Feelings she had decided she would live without. Yet something about the man accelerated her heart rate. The sexual awareness both terrified and intrigued.
Martha returned to her window. "You're in luck, Mrs. Bankston. Mr. Carleton okayed your check and said you can bank here anytime you want." The teller smiled as she counted out the money.
Gillian thanked her and tucked the bills in her wallet. She walked to the door with her head down, busy closing her purse and bumped into someone. Large strong hands caught her and firmly set her away.
Naturally, it was him.
Dallas McCade frowned at her as he held the door open. Having no other choice, Gillian walked quickly past him. With a murmured thanks, she hurried to her car.
Since Nick had died, she had avoided all social contact with men. Who needed the hurt and anguish? She ruthlessly squashed the tendrils of desire still lingering in her body from the close proximity of the rancher inside the bank.
She had learned to live without sex, thank you very much. She couldn't afford the emotional upheaval of another relationship. Not that she would ever want a relationship with someone like Dallas McCade, she assured herself.
Work, her job, her career was enough. Fairy-tale dreams of hearth, home and children were not for her. It would be better to forget about the tall handsome rancher. He wasn't for her, either.
Gillian headed for the grocery store. She really should start cooking some of her meals. There was a small efficiency kitchen in her trailer. She enjoyed cooking and just hadn't found the time to organize things like she usually did on her assignments. She had been too busy trying to get a handle on things at the drilling site. In addition to the mounds of paper work and management decisions,
there were also the mysterious incidents jeopardizing the operation to consider.
Gillian didn't want to believe Dallas McCade was behind those incidents. She sighed. Why did her thoughts continually center around that man? Hadn't she decided not to think about him anymore? Giving herself a mental shake, she grabbed a grocery cart and started down the produce aisle.
****
Dallas jerked open his truck door and climbed in. It made him sick the way his body got hard just looking at Gillian. He had never dallied with a married woman in his life, and he didn't plan to start now. He had been on the short end of the stick when his ex-wife cheated on him again and again. He wouldn't wish that kind of pain and heartache on his worst enemy.
In his rearview mirror, he watched Gillian pull away in her car. Besides being married, she was the enemy. With her working for Copper River Oil, there wasn't a chance in hell he would ask her out even if she was available. Keep telling yourself that, McCade.
Hell, for the past couple of weeks, he had been mooning over her. A woman he couldn't have. A woman he shouldn't want, but did. Ever since he'd met her, he couldn't keep her out of his thoughts. Her presence was constantly with him. Teasing him. Frustrating him.
And now, he had actually touched her. To prevent Gillian from running headlong into him at the bank, he had grasped her arms to stop her. For days, he had wondered how she would feel. Now he knew. Her soft skin was like silk under his work-hardened hands. He had wanted to drag her against his body, nestle her against him. Run his fingers through her shiny hair. Her scent, an alluring combination of vanilla and woman, had filled his lungs with want.
Enough was enough. He had work to do. A ranch to run. No woman was worth thinking about night and day. It was disgusting. That's what it was.
He had one more stop to make before heading back to the ranch. Once there, he could lose himself in hard physical labor. Banish the tantalizing allure of a certain woman. A woman who was occupying way too much of his time and thoughts.
Dallas thumped the steering wheel with his palms. It had been a long time since he had been with a woman. The lady tool-pusher attracted him because she was new to town and his body was hungry. That sounded logical, except it did nothing to cool his heated blood.
Pulling into the grocery store parking lot, Dallas groaned and thumped the steering wheel again when he saw the car with the California license plates. Gillian was inside. Well, there wasn't anything to do but go on in. This was the only grocery store in town and his mother needed flour. He would run in and run out. Maybe he wouldn't see her.
Yeah, right. As soon as he walked in the door, his eyes honed in on her. She stood at the meat counter, talking to Frank, the butcher. Something he said made her laugh. She put the packages of meat in her cart and continued down the aisle, a smile still playing across her lips. When she spotted Dallas, her smile faded away.
Dallas had the feeling Gillian wanted to turn around and run in the opposite direction. After a startled second, she lifted her chin and pushed the cart forward. He walked toward her, intent on picking up the flour and getting the hell out of there.
She stopped in front of the baking supplies. In front of the damn flour. She seemed intent on studying the cake mixes and ignoring him.
Dallas waited about ten seconds. "Excuse me," he growled, reaching past her for a sack of flour on the shelf.
"Certainly." She stepped backwards, right into the curve of his outstretched arm.
Well, one of his wishes had been granted. He didn't have to wonder anymore how she would feel in his arms. Unfortunately, he couldn't do anything about it in the middle of the store, holding a five-pound bag of flour. Or, maybe it was fortunate. Her body trembled slightly before she jerked away.
Quickly, she chose a cake mix, tossed it in her basket and whisked down the aisle, turning the corner out of sight.
Dallas shook his head, willing his body to calm down. Why had his life become so complicated all of a sudden?
****
Sunday turned out to be a scorcher. Gillian had the day off and decided to go to the small city pool she had noticed when shopping in town. Pulling on a neon-yellow swimsuit, she shrugged into a short terry robe to cover the one-piece and gathered her stuff in a large straw bag. She checked to make sure she had everything. Sunblock, sunglasses, novel, towel. All there. Packing a small ice chest with diet sodas and some grapes, she was ready to go.
Working on drilling sites around the country, Gillian often found herself at loose ends on her days off. Early on, she decided to overcome any shyness she may have felt and enjoy whatever the towns had to offer. Going to the movies by herself, eating at cafes and restaurants alone, even going swimming at the local pools had become second nature to her.
Thank goodness, she enjoyed her own company. This was the life she had chosen. It was a good life. She refused to feel sorry for herself, when on occasion, she felt lonely. Nothing in life was perfect and being alone didn't bother her much.
The image of a tall dark cowboy suddenly invaded her thoughts. Dallas had been dominating her mind a lot lately. Making her aware of her loneliness. Making her yearn. For what, she didn't know. The man confused and tantalized at the same time. Made her feel edgy and restless.
Gillian sighed. She would just have to get over it. Ignore the feelings. Ignore him. She didn't want a relationship with Dallas or anyone. She was better off alone. Safer.
At the pool, Gillian settled in a corner by the fence away from the crowd. Spreading her towel, she removed her robe and liberally applied sun block. Picking up her paperback, she lay down and relaxed. Later, when the sun became too hot, she would take a dip in the inviting blue water.
Soon, she lost herself in the intrigues of the romance novel, barely conscious of the background noise of children splashing, shouting and laughing.
The story was well written, a real page-turner. Passion and love, heated kisses and tangled sheets. Gillian felt her body responding. Unbidden mind-pictures of Dallas McCade looming over her, his eyes full of sexual promise made her body quiver all over.
Gillian snapped the book closed. Damn, it was hot. Definitely time to cool off in the pool.
Stepping into the shimmering water, she eased into the chilly depths. The water felt good on her heated skin. She looked around, trying to get her mind off the book, trying not to think of the sexy rancher or the heat rushing in her veins. She smiled at some of the young mothers sitting on a bench, watching their children in the pool.
Several kids were playing a game, diving under the water, retrieving brightly colored rings. The childish laughter, the sheer joy in their faces made Gillian wish one or two of them were her own. She would have liked to have a couple of kids.
Shrugging off the fantasy, she dove under the water. She swam hard and fast, slipping through the sparkling depths, covering as much ground as her lungs would allow before coming up for air.
She made for the edge of the deep end, then turned and swam on her back the entire length of the pool. Three more times, she dove under and went as far and as fast as she could. Her lungs ached before she allowed herself to break the surface. After the last lap, she dipped her head back into the water, sleeking her hair out of her face. Treading water for a few minutes to catch her breath, she leisurely swam back to her side of the pool.
The vigorous exercise had chased away her demons. She had definitely needed that. Her body was deliciously tired. Troubling thoughts of men, relationships and kids were miraculously held at bay, at least for a little while.
Stepping out of the water, she turned toward her towel only to find herself face to face with one of her demons. Dallas McCade blocked her way. What was he doing here?
For a frozen second, she watched his eyes skim the length of her body. She felt her nipples pucker in response, a languorous heaviness settle low in her stomach.
Quickly, Gillian sidestepped around him and hurried to her corner. The admiration in his potent blue eyes made her shiver all over. Sh
e grabbed her robe, gathered her things and made her escape, calling herself a coward a million times over. Knowing she shouldn't let the man dictate her actions or reactions. She had never met a man quite like him in all of her twenty-eight years of life. One who could turn her insides to slush, make her feel hot and cold at the same time.
She reminded herself she didn't want a man. Didn't need a man in her life. The tingling awareness in every nerve ending in her body told her she was lying.
****
Dallas stood frozen in his tracks, unable to shake the erotic image of Gillian rising out of the swimming pool like a sea nymph, water sliding down her glistening body, dripping at her feet. His eyes had devoured her and he'd inspected every luscious curve of her figure. The beaded nipples beneath her yellow swimsuit and the bright red toenails had screamed sex.
The Cowboy's Surrender Page 4
