Claim Me, Cowboy

by Maisey Yates

  She squinted. “I think the fact that I have a four-month-old baby in tow will be reminder enough.”

  The idea of going into his family’s farmhouse and behaving like a nightmare didn’t sit as well with her as it had when the plan had been fully abstract. But now he had given names to the family members. Now she had been here for a while. And now it was all starting to feel a little bit real.

  “It won’t hurt. Though, he’s pretty quiet. It might help if he screamed.”

  She laughed. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I have a feeling your mom and sister might just want to hold him. That will be the real problem. Not having everyone hate me. That’ll be easy enough. It’ll be keeping everyone from loving him.”

  That comment struck her square in the chest, made her realize just what they were playing at here. She was going to be lying to these people. And yes, the idea was to alienate them, but they were going to think she might be their daughter-in-law, sister-in-law...that Riley would be their grandson or nephew.

  But it would be a lie.

  That’s the point, you moron. And who cares? They’re strangers. Riley is your life. He’s your responsibility. And you’ll never see these people again.

  “We won’t let them hold the baby,” he said, his expression hard, as if he’d suddenly realized she wasn’t completely wrong about his mother and sister and it bothered him.

  She wished she could understand why he felt so strongly about putting a stop to his father playing matchmaker. As someone whose parents were ambivalent about her existence, his disregard for his family’s well wishes was hard to comprehend.

  “Okay,” she said. “Fine by me. And you just want me to...be my charming self?”

  “Obviously we’ll have to come up with a story about our relationship. We don’t have to make up how we met. We can say we met through the ad.”

  “The ad your father placed, not the ad you placed.”

  “Naturally.”

  She looked at Joshua then, at the broad expanse of table between them. Two people who looked less like a couple probably didn’t exist on the face of the planet. Honestly, two strangers standing across the street from each other probably looked more like a happily engaged unit than they did.

  She frowned. “This is very unconvincing.”

  “What is? Be specific.”

  She rolled her eyes at his impatience. “Us.”

  She stood up and walked toward him, sitting down in the chair right next to him. She looked at him for a moment, at the sharp curve of his jaw, the enticing shape of his lips. He was an attractive man. That was an understatement. He was also so uptight she was pretty sure he had a stick up his ass.

  “Look, you want your family to think you’ve lost your mind, to think you have hooked up with a totally unsuitable woman, right?”

  “That is the game.”

  “Then you have to look like you’ve lost your mind over me. Unfortunately, Joshua, you look very much in your right mind. In fact, a man of sounder mind may not exist. You are...responsible. You literally look like The Man.”

  “Which man?”

  “Like, The Man. Like, fight the power. You’re the power. Nobody’s going to believe you’re with me. At least, not if you don’t seem a little bit...looser.”

  A slight smile tipped up those lips she had been thinking about only a moment before. His blue eyes warmed, and she felt an answering warmth spread low in her belly. “So what you’re saying is we need to look like we have more of a connection?”

  Her throat went dry. “It’s just a suggestion.”

  He leaned forward, his gaze intent on hers. “An essential one, I think.” Then he reached up and she jerked backward, nearly toppling off the side of her chair. “It looks like I’m not the only one who’s wound a bit tight.”

  “I’m not,” she said, taking a deep breath, trying to get her jittery body to calm itself down.

  She wasn’t used to men. She wasn’t used to men touching her. Yes, intermittently she and her mother had lived with some of her mother’s boyfriends, but none of them had ever been inappropriate with her. And she had never been close enough to even give any of them hugs.

  And she really, really wasn’t used to men who were so beautiful it was almost physically painful to look directly at them.

  “You’re right. We have to do a better job of looking like a couple. And that would include you not scampering under the furniture when I get close to you.”

  She sat up straight and folded her hands in her lap. “I did not scamper,” she muttered.

  “You were perilously close to a scamper.”

  “Was not,” she grumbled, and then her breath caught in her throat as his warm palm made contact with her cheek.

  He slid his thumb down the curve of her face to that dent just beneath her lips, his eyes never leaving hers. She felt...stunned and warm. No, hot. So very hot. Like there was a furnace inside that had been turned up the moment his hand touched her bare skin.

  She supposed she was meant to be flirtatious. To play the part of the moneygrubbing tart with loose morals he needed her to be, that his family would expect her to be. But right now, she was shocked into immobility.

  She took a deep breath, fighting for composure. But his thumb migrated from the somewhat reasonable point just below her mouth to her lip and her composure dissolved completely. His touch felt...shockingly intimate and filthy somehow. Not in a bad way, just in a way she’d never experienced before.

  For some reason she would never be able to articulate—not even to herself—she darted her tongue out and touched the tip to his thumb. She tasted salt, skin and a promise that arrowed downward to the most private part of her body, leaving her feeling breathless. Leaving her feeling new somehow.

  As if a wholly unexpected and previously unknown part of herself had been uncovered, awoken. She wanted to do exactly what he had accused her of doing earlier. She wanted to turn away. Wanted to scurry beneath the furniture or off into the night. Somewhere safe. Somewhere less confrontational.

  But he was still looking at her. And those blue eyes were like chains, lashing her to the seat, holding her in place. And his thumb, pressed against her lip, felt heavy. Much too heavy for her to push against. For her to fight.

  And when it came right down to it, she didn’t even want to.

  Something expanded in her chest, spreading low, opening up a yawning chasm in her stomach. Deepening her need, her want. Her desire for things she hadn’t known she could desire until now.

  Until he had made a promise with his touch that she hadn’t known she wanted fulfilled.

  She was just about to come back to herself, to pull away. And then he closed the distance between them.

  His lips were warm and firm. The kiss was nothing like she had imagined it might be. She had always thought a kiss must reach inside and steal your brain. Transform you. She had always imagined a kiss to be powerful, considering the way her mother acted.

  When her mother was under the influence of love—at least, that was what her mother had called it; Danielle had always known it was lust—she acted like someone entirely apart from herself.

  Yes, Danielle had always known a kiss could be powerful. But what she hadn’t counted on was that she might feel wholly like herself when a man fused his lips to hers. That she would be so perfectly aware of where she was, of what she was doing.

  Of the pressure of his lips against hers, the warmth of his hand as he cradled her face, the hard, tightening knot of desire in her stomach that told her how insufficient the kiss was.

  The desire that told her just how much more she wanted. Just how much more there could be.

  He was kissing her well, this near stranger, and she never wanted it to end.

  Instinctively, she angled her head slightly, parting her lips, allowing him to slide his tongue against hers. I
t was unexpectedly slick, unexpectedly arousing. Unexpectedly everything she wanted.

  That was the other thing that surprised her. Because not only had she imagined a woman might lose herself entirely when a man kissed her, she had also imagined she would be immune. Because she knew better. She knew the cost. But she was sitting here, allowing him to kiss her and kiss her and kiss her. She was Danielle Kelly, and she was submitting herself to this sensual assault with almost shocking abandon.

  Her hands were still folded in her lap, almost primly, but her mouth was parted wide, gratefully receiving every stroke of his tongue, slow and languorous against her own. Sexy. Deliciously affecting.

  He moved his hands then, sliding them around the back of her neck, down between her shoulder blades, along the line of her spine until his hands spanned her waist. She arched, wishing she could press her body against his. Wishing she could do something to close the distance between them. Because he was still sitting in his chair and she in hers.

  He pulled away, and she followed him, leaning into him with an almost humiliating desperation, wanting to taste him again. To be kissed again. By Joshua Grayson, the man she was committing an insane kind of fraud with. The man who had hired her to play the part of his pretend fiancée.

  “That will do,” he said, lifting his hand and squeezing her chin gently, those blue eyes glinting with a sharpness that cut straight to her soul. “Yes, Ms. Kelly, that will do quite nicely.”

  Then he released his hold on her completely, settling back in his seat, his attention returning to his dinner plate.

  A slash of heat bled across Danielle’s cheekbones. He hadn’t felt anything at all. He had been proving a point. Just practicing the ruse they would be performing for his family tomorrow night. The kiss hadn’t changed anything for him at all. Hadn’t been more than the simple meeting of mouths.

  It had been her first kiss. It had been everything.

  And right then she got her first taste of just how badly a man could make a woman feel. Of how—when wounded—feminine pride could be a treacherous and testy thing.

  She rose from her seat and rounded to stand behind his. Then, without fully pausing to think about what she might be doing, she placed her hands on his shoulders, leaned forward and slid her hands beneath the collar of his shirt and down his chest.

  Her palms made contact with his hot skin, with hard muscle, and she had to bite her lip to keep from groaning out loud. She had to plant her feet firmly on the wood floor to keep herself from running away, from jerking her hands back like a child burned on a hot oven.

  She’d never touched a man like this before. It was shocking just how arousing she found it, this little form of revenge, this little rebellion against his blasé response to the earthquake he had caused in her body.

  She leaned her head forward, nearly pressing her lips against his ear. Then her teeth scraped his earlobe.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I think it’s quite convincing.”

  She straightened again, slowly running her fingernails over his skin as she did. She didn’t know where this confidence had come from. Where the know-how and seemingly deep, feminine instinct had come from that allowed her to toy with him. But there it was.

  She was officially playing the part of a saucy minx. Considering that was what he had hired her for, her flirtation was a good thing. But her heart thundered harder than a drum as she walked back to Riley, picked up his carrier and flipped her hair as she turned to face Joshua.

  “I think I’m going to bed. I had best prepare myself to meet your family.”

  “You’ll be wearing something different tomorrow,” he said, his tone firm.

  “Why?” She looked down at her ragged sweatshirt and skinny jeans. “That doesn’t make any sense. You wanted me to look unsuitable. I might as well go in this.”

  “No, you brought up a very good point. You have to look unsuitable, but this situation also has to be believable. Plus, I think a gold digger would demand a new wardrobe, don’t you?” One corner of his lips quirked upward, and she had a feeling he was punishing her for her little display a moment ago.

  If only she could work out quite where the trap was.

  “I don’t know,” she said, her voice stiff.

  “But, Ms. Kelly, you told me yourself that you are a gold digger. That’s why you’re here, after all. For my gold.”

  “I suppose so,” she said, keeping her words deliberately hard. “But I want actual gold, not clothes. So this is another thing that’s going to be on you.”

  Those blue eyes glinted, and right then she got an idea of just how dangerous he was to her. “Consider it done.”

  And if there was one thing she had learned so far about Joshua Grayson, it was that if he said something would be done, it would be.

  Five

  Joshua wasn’t going to try to turn Danielle into a sophisticate overnight. He was also avoiding thinking about the way it had felt to kiss her soft lips. Was avoiding remembering the way her hands had felt sliding down his chest.

  He needed to make sure the two of them looked like a couple, that much was true. But he wouldn’t allow himself to be distracted by her. There were a million reasons not to touch Danielle Kelly—unless they were playing a couple. Yes, there would have to be some touching, but he was not going to take advantage of her.

  First of all, she was at his financial mercy. Second of all, she was the kind of woman who came with entanglements. And he didn’t want any entanglements.

  He wasn’t the type to have trouble with self-control. If it wasn’t a good time to seek out a physical relationship, he didn’t. It wasn’t a good time now, which meant he would defer any kind of sexual gratification until the end of his association with Danielle.

  That should be fine.

  He should be able to consider any number of women who he had on-again, off-again associations with, choose one and get in touch with her after Danielle left. His mind and body should be set on that.

  Sadly, all he could think of was last night’s kiss and the shocking heat that had come with it.

  And then Danielle came down the stairs wearing the simple black dress he’d had delivered for her.

  His thoughts about not transforming her into a sophisticated woman overnight held true. Her long, straight brown hair still hung limp down to her waist, and she had no makeup on to speak of except pale pink gloss on her lips.

  But the simple cut of the dress suited her slender figure and displayed small, perky breasts that had been hidden beneath her baggy, threadbare sweaters.

  She was holding on to the handle of the baby’s car seat with both hands, lugging it down the stairs. For one moment, he was afraid she might topple over. He moved forward quickly, grabbing the handle and taking the seat from her.

  When he looked down at the sleeping child, a strange tightness invaded his chest. “It wouldn’t be good for you or for Riley if you fell and broke your neck trying to carry something that’s too heavy for you,” he said, his tone harder than he’d intended it to be.

  Danielle scowled. “Well, offer assistance earlier next time. I had to get down the stairs somehow. Anyway, I’ve been navigating stairs like this with the baby since he was born. I lived in an apartment. On the third floor.”

  “I imagine he’s heavier now than he used to be.”

  “An expert on child development?” She arched one dark brow as she posed the question.

  He gritted his teeth. “Hardly.”

  She stepped away from the stairs, and the two of them walked toward the door. Just because he wanted to make it clear that he was in charge of the evening, he placed his hand low on her back, right at the dip where her spine curved, right above what the dress revealed to be a magnificent ass.

  He had touched her there to get to her, but he had not anticipated the touch getting to him.

  He ush
ered her out quickly, then handed the car seat to her, allowing her to snap it into the base—the one he’d had installed in his car when all of the nursery accoutrements had been delivered—then sat waiting for her to get in.

  As they started to pull out of the driveway, she wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her hands over her bare skin. “Do you think you could turn the heater on?”

  He frowned. “Why didn’t you bring a jacket?”

  “I don’t have one? All I have are my sweaters. And I don’t think either of them would go with the dress. Would kind of ruin the effect.”

  He put the brakes on, slipped out of his own jacket and handed it to her. She just looked at him like he was offering her a live gopher. “Take it,” he said.

  She frowned but reached out, taking the jacket and slipping it on. “Thank you,” she said, her voice sounding hollow.

  They drove to his parents’ house in silence, the only sounds coming from the baby sitting in the back seat. A sobering reminder of the evening that was about to unfold. He was going to present a surprise fiancée and a surprise baby to his parents, and suddenly, he didn’t look at this plan in quite the same way as he had before.

  He was throwing Danielle into the deep end. Throwing Riley into the deep end.

  Joshua gritted his teeth, tightening his hold on the steering wheel. Finally, the interminable drive through town was over. He turned left off a winding road and onto a dirt drive that led back to the familiar, humble farmhouse his parents still called home.

  That some part of his heart still called home too.

  He looked over at Danielle, who had gone pale. “It’s fine,” he said.