The Horseman's Convenient Wife

by Mindy Neff

  She cautioned herself not to get caught up in the fairy tale but to guard against vulnerability. He was only her temporary husband. This was only her temporary home.

  He was doing her an enormous favor. And she wouldn’t embarrass either of them by letting him know that her feelings ran deeper. Much, much deeper than she’d planned.

  Foolish, she thought. She’d gone into this with her eyes wide open, knowing that when the time was up, the marriage license they’d signed would molder in a file cabinet somewhere, perhaps even end up in the trash barrel.

  But that was months away. In the meantime she would hoard as many memories as possible. Someday, God willing, she would have a child. A little boy or a little girl with Stony’s lips, his amber eyes, his strong jaw.

  And his gentle way.

  The memories she built now would evolve into stories to tell her child; their child, a means of keeping Stony close at heart and a vital part of their baby’s life, even though opposing life-styles separated them.

  Stony’s fingers squeezed hers. ‘‘You’re deep in thought.’’

  ‘‘Mmm. Just thinking about families, parents.’’ Me and you.

  They stopped in front of Henry’s stall, and Stony reached over the wooden door to give the horse’s cheek a scratch. Touching came so naturally to him.

  When images of him touching her threatened to buckle her knees, she knew a distraction was in order. ‘‘Tell me about your grandmother.’’

  He released her hand to check the latch on Henry’s stall door. ‘‘She was a remarkable woman. I see her in every corner of this land, in the flowers by the back door, that old cypress down by the creek. I see her out here in the barns, remember the special, gifted way she spoke to the animals, using only touch and body language.’’

  With a hand at Eden’s back he led her a little way down the smooth cement aisle that ran through the center of the stable.

  ‘‘The sorrel over here was hers,’’ he said, reaching up to pet the elegant horse that immediately came to greet them, poking her head out the stall door. ‘‘Her name’s Penny.’’

  ‘‘Oh, she’s a beauty.’’ Eden reached across the half door to rub the animal’s neck. Her coat was a cross between a deep gold and a reddish brown, with a matching mane and tail. For an instant Penny stood proudly and gave a dainty bob of her head. Then her ears drooped and her nose dropped toward the ground, her chin nearly resting on the wooden gate, as though Stony and Eden were family and there was no call to put on fancy airs in front of kin.

  ‘‘For the longest time I worried that her heart was broken,’’ Stony said softly. ‘‘Did you see how she perked up and stood so tall when we came? She’s still looking for my grandma, watching for her. That head bobbing she just did was her way of getting a better look around—just in case Grandma was standing directly in front of her. She wouldn’t want to miss that.’’

  ‘‘I don’t get it.’’

  ‘‘Horses have a small blind spot in their field of vision—just in front of them.’’

  ‘‘Oh. I beg your pardon, Penny.’’ Eden moved a step to the side, gazing into Penny’s huge, velvety eye. ‘‘I’m so sorry I’m not who you expected.’’ Penny’s head raised a bit. ‘‘How can you tell if she’s sad?’’

  ‘‘Her ears’ll droop.’’

  ‘‘Oh, no.’’ Eden reached up to touch Penny’s relaxed ears. ‘‘None of that, now.’’ Like a star pupil anxious to please, the horse’s ears pricked and her head came up a notch.

  ‘‘I’ll be damned. You’re the first person she’s actually responded to without ten minutes of coaxing.’’

  ‘‘You’re kidding. Not even Nikki?’’

  ‘‘Especially not Nikki.’’ His mouth turned up at the corners, and Eden realized he’d let down his guard, wasn’t even aware of the expression. ‘‘Nikki’s a little…energetic for Penny’s liking. This lady stands clear when Nik’s in the area.’’

  Eden laughed. ‘‘I don’t blame her. Nikki could worry the horns off a billy goat.’’ Lest he think she was criticizing she quickly added, ‘‘The sign of a healthy, happy, five-year—’’

  Her words arrested in her throat when she turned her head. Stony’s arm was braced high against the wall beside her, his head bent at the perfect angle for kissing. He was so close she could feel the warmth of his skin radiating through his cotton, snap-front shirt. When he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed beneath the brown bandanna tied at his throat, and Eden had the most pressing urge to bury her lips just there.

  He raised his brows, clearly a gesture that translated into a silent question. A knowing gesture that made the question moot. Yet he asked, anyway, ‘‘What?’’ Softly, so softly. His thumb swept across her bottom lip, and his gaze fastened right there for several exquisitely arousing seconds.

  ‘‘I forget,’’ she whispered.

  Those incredible amber eyes shifted lazily from her mouth to her eyes, and Eden feared she would hyperventilate right there on the spot. Her heart pounded, and her breath came in shallow pants. Every pulse point in her body was attuned to his, called to his…begged.

  To heck with trust and wooing and getting to know each other, she was good to go, right this very minute.

  But for a man who read body language so expertly, he was doing a dismal job with hers.

  Stunning her right down to her toes, he straightened and took a step back. ‘‘Ready?’’

  ‘‘Do you even have to ask?’’

  The left corner of his mouth tipped upward in the sexiest smile she’d ever seen. She blinked, made fists with her hands because they were trembling like mad.

  ‘‘I meant to resume the tour.’’ The smile reflected in his voice.

  ‘‘The…’’ Did she have to conk him over the head, here? Surely her ability to convey sexual signals wasn’t that rusty. ‘‘Uh…no. That’s not strictly what I’m ready for.’’

  ‘‘What then?’’

  ‘‘At the risk of repeating myself, do you even have to ask?’’

  ‘‘It’ll be dark soon.’’ He took her hand, obviously to get them moving.

  She tugged, stopping him. ‘‘What does dark have to do with anything?’’

  He gave her that steady look again, his thrillingly sensual eyes so riveting she couldn’t have looked away even if someone yelled fire.

  ‘‘It’s hard to tour the ranch after dark.’’ He brought her knuckles to his lips. ‘‘As for you, I’ll want lights. Plenty of them.’’

  She blinked. Her skin was on fire even as chills raced up and down her arms. He’d kissed her hand. Her hand. Nobody had ever done that.

  ‘‘Stony, in my upbringing, a girl being forward with a boy is…well, it’s just not done. And I’m sorry, but I’m going to toss teaching right out the door and say it plain out. I’m ready to go inside. To bed. Or—’’ she gestured around her ‘‘—the hay’s fine by me.’’

  ‘‘Do you realize how expressive that Southern accent is? It’ll drive a man to his knees.’’

  ‘‘Well then, feel free,’’ she blurted out, her mind consumed with that incredibly seductive image.

  He actually laughed. ‘‘We’ll get there. Right now, I think I’m still a little nervous.’’

  ‘‘Right. And that horse over there is going to sprout wings and a horn and fly through the barn.’’ She’d never felt such keen sexual frustration.

  He shook his head. ‘‘That’d be a shame. Owner’s got a lot invested in that Thoroughbred.’’

  She took a breath, gathered her wits, felt her smile tugging. ‘‘All right. But if the engine won’t warm up again, don’t say I didn’t warn you.’’

  About to take a step, he stopped, looked down at her. ‘‘I guarantee it’ll warm up.’’ His voice was deep and filled with masculine confidence. Not the kind of confidence that was off-putting, but the kind that tapped right into a woman’s fantasies.

  Especially Eden’s. This was a man who would not need, nor ask for, a performance-rating in
bed. The excitement brought on by that realization nearly made her stumble.

  Despite his gentle hold on her hand, she untangled her feet and her mind and fell into step beside him.

  Warm up, ha! She was going to overheat and likely catch fire.

  She needed a distraction. Desperately.

  ‘‘You mentioned your grandmother was deaf. But she spoke?’’

  ‘‘Not often. The sound of her voice drew stares of pity from other people, and she was the least likely woman to be pitied. She was strong and brave, with a heart that could reform an ax murderer.’’

  Eden smiled. ‘‘That’s a very powerful gift. She raised you?’’

  ‘‘From the time I was thirteen.’’

  ‘‘And before that? Or would you rather not talk about it,’’ she said quickly.

  ‘‘I don’t mind. This is the ‘getting to know you’ I promised.’’

  He’d promised her much more, but Eden didn’t want to get sidetracked again.

  ‘‘When I was eight, my folks and I were on our way to a horse auction when the axle on the trailer broke. Dad had been reaching down on the floor for something, so he wasn’t prepared. The trailer jack-knifed, then we just started flipping.’’

  ‘‘Oh, Stony, how horrible for you.’’

  ‘‘Yeah. I walked away with only bruises. My parents died on the spot.’’

  Oh, no. He’d witnessed that as an eight-year-old boy.

  ‘‘The paramedics took me to the hospital in Jackson—’’

  ‘‘Mississippi?’’

  ‘‘Wyoming. My parents were dead, and the authorities couldn’t seem to locate a next of kin. I told them about Grandma, but I didn’t know her last name. Only that she lived on a ranch in Montana.’’

  ‘‘She was your mom’s mother.’’

  ‘‘Yes. Let’s walk.’’ With her hand in his they stepped out into the twilight, slowly traveling the path that led to the back door of the ranch house.

  ‘‘I felt really stupid that I didn’t even know my own grandmother’s last name. The people from the state promised they’d find her, but in the meantime they had to do something with me, so they sent me to a boys’ home. I kept telling the other kids I wasn’t staying, that in a couple of days my grandmother would come for me. And when she didn’t, they needled me. The dumb big guy. Even at eight I was a lot taller than the other kids.’’

  Oh, she hurt for him. ‘‘Children can be so thoughtless.’’ She tightened her fingers around his palm, hugged his arm to her side, feeling his hard biceps press against the swell of her breast. ‘‘You said the accident happened when you were eight but that your grandmother had raised you from thirteen on. You were in foster care for five years?’’

  ‘‘Looking back, it seems incredible. As the days passed and my grandmother didn’t show, I figured she just didn’t want the responsibility of me. Turns out she didn’t have a phone. She couldn’t hear, so she considered it a frivolous expense. With no phone and a different last name from mine, it took a while for someone to notify her of my parents’ deaths.’’ He shrugged. ‘‘One of those freak things where paperwork falls between the cracks.’’

  ‘‘More than paperwork,’’ she said softly.

  ‘‘I suppose the state of Wyoming was pretty embarrassed that they’d let procedure and human decency slip through their fingers. By that time—nobody would actually own up to responsibility—I was stuck in the system, almost like they’d forgotten me.’’

  ‘‘Surely they told your grandma that you’d survived the accident?’’

  ‘‘Yes. They told her.’’ His jaw tightened as did his fingers on hers. ‘‘But some idiot who’d obviously never heard of discrimination laws arbitrarily decided that Grandma’s handicap made her unfit to raise a child—never mind that she’d raised my mom just fine. Grandma fought for information and action, but she wasn’t getting very far. I’d been moved to another home, and mysteriously the paperwork disappeared.’’

  ‘‘You didn’t ask about her in all that time? Bug the case workers to keep looking?’’

  He shook his head. ‘‘I thought she didn’t want me. I was stubborn. I wasn’t going to set myself up for more rejection. I was getting enough of that as it was.’’

  ‘‘But she found you,’’ Eden said softly.

  ‘‘Yes. And just like the way she gentled the horses, she had to gentle me. I was pretty angry.’’

  Eden hugged his arm harder and rested her head against his shoulder. ‘‘Did she sue?’’

  ‘‘No. Didn’t believe in it. But she was happy to track down the people who’d appointed themselves judge and jury and got them fired.’’

  ‘‘Good for her.’’ Eden was indignant on his grandmother’s behalf. They were at the back porch now, and Eden turned, placing her hand on his chest, over his heart, unconsciously rubbing. It was a trait she’d inherited from her mother. In sadness, Beverley Williams would gently rub right there over the heart, her way of soothing, of healing.

  ‘‘You’ve lost a lot of people close to you.’’ She was also thinking about Nikki’s parents, friends obviously close enough to name him godfather of their daughter.

  ‘‘But the replacements I got,’’ he said softly, ‘‘Grandma and Nikki, have been the best things in my life.’’

  Still, Eden could only imagine the pain. She’d never experienced the death of a loved one. She was blessed to have both her parents, four grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins—most of them living right outside of Dallas, like her.

  She realized she’d taken that for granted lately.

  He smoothed her hair behind her ear, then placed his hand over hers, holding it to his chest.

  She felt his heart thud beneath her palm and knew hers matched the rhythm, and still he simply gazed down at her.

  ‘‘What?’’ she asked.

  ‘‘You’re so beautiful. I can’t imagine why men aren’t breaking down your door to sweep you off your feet.’’

  She gave a wry chuckle. ‘‘Not likely.’’

  ‘‘But there have been relationships.’’

  ‘‘Yes. Nothing serious, though.’’ She shrugged. ‘‘Most of ’em kissed with their eyes open.’’

  Stony jolted, raised a brow. ‘‘Unforgivable,’’ he murmured wryly, amusement lighting his eyes.

  ‘‘Unromantic,’’ she clarified.

  ‘‘Seems yours would’ve had to be open, too, to notice.’’

  ‘‘Guess that means the guys weren’t too special, huh?’’

  ‘‘I guess,’’ he echoed, staring at her. Watching her. ‘‘So, how do you like to be kissed?’’

  Her cheeks instantly warmed, and her vocal cords seized. The cicadas sang in the trees as fireflies blinked yellow among the daisies as though providing the color hidden by night. ‘‘Um…you do a fine job.’’

  His knuckles grazed her cheek. ‘‘Do I?’’ His head lowered, stopping a breath away from her lips. ‘‘Your eyes are open,’’ he pointed out.

  Oh, Lord. She thought she might faint. She’d never met a man who made her feel like this. ‘‘Yes. So are yours. But it feels romantic with you.’’

  ‘‘Mmm. Close your eyes.’’

  ‘‘I might miss something.’’

  ‘‘I guarantee you, sweetheart, you won’t miss a thing.’’

  And she didn’t. Her whole body became a hive of nerve endings, her senses so keen she felt every single one of them—individually and all at once.

  Incredible, she thought. Magic.

  She reached up to caress his face. His hand followed, circled her wrist, gently tugged her hand down. For a moment she came back to earth, felt a flash of coherency amidst the maelstrom of exquisite sensation, and realized he was preventing her from touching his scar.

  She leaned back, took his face in her hands, and drew him down within easier reach, holding his gaze. Slowly she closed her eyes as though savoring the finest, most mouth-watering dessert, and softy, very softly, pressed her lips to the sc
ar that had become invisible within five minutes of meeting Stony.

  ‘‘You are a beautiful man,’’ she whispered. ‘‘Someday you’ll tell me about this wound. But not right now.’’

  He swore, his voice deep and raw with emotions she could only guess at. Wrapping his arms tighter around her, he snatched her to him, kissing her in a way that made her mind go blank and her body pulse with pleasure.

  She met his aggression, matched it and took them even further.

  He reached behind her, yanked open the door, maneuvered her into the kitchen and up against the counter without ever breaking the kiss.

  She came up for air. ‘‘I take it our tour is over?’’

  He bunched the hem of her skirt in his hand, drew it up her thigh, pulling her leg up with it. His palm swept up the back of her thigh, paused over the garter and the top of her stockings, then slid higher, over the firm, naked swell of her behind.

  Stunned, Eden sucked in a breath.

  With her feet barely touching the floor, she felt the hard length of his arousal against her pelvis. Urgency pounded in every fiber of her being.

  She pressed against him as the edges of reason blurred, as appeasing the torturous ache deep inside her became the paramount goal.

  His head lifted, his amber eyes nearly black with desire. His fingers traced the band of her G-string panties.

  ‘‘If I’d known what was under this skirt, our tour would have been much shorter.’’ His fingers grazed her inner thigh, wrenching a moan from her. ‘‘Baby, we need a bed. Fast.’’

  Chapter Nine

  He swung her up in his arms and strode toward the stairs. Eden’s whole body trembled in anticipation and excitement. No man had ever carried her. It was a fantasy she’d been too shy to ask a partner to fulfill. Perhaps she hadn’t trusted the others.

  Stony made it seem effortless, made her feel petite when she was pretty much average.

  She’d been in his bedroom before, tidying up. It was a no-frills room, wood floors softened by area rugs, a king-size bed covered in a patchwork quilt.

  All male. Just like the man looking down at her, the utter intensity of his gaze making her giddy.