His Defender

by Stella Bagwell

  Even though the dance was a slow one, his intimate words caused her nearly to miss a step. “There are many gorgeous women here tonight,” she countered.

  “I’ve only seen one. And she’s in my arms.”

  Her nostrils flared as she tried not to smile, but the corners of her lips tilted upward in spite of her efforts. “Oh, you are bad, Mr. Ketchum.”

  He chuckled. “So I’ve been told,” he said, then as the music suddenly changed, he swung her into a waltz.

  After that, the two of them danced several up-tempo dances before Isabella finally had to beg for a chance to stop and catch her breath.

  Ross guided her over to the buffet of refreshments where they helped themselves to iced colas. While they were sipping their drinks, a tall young blonde with short moussed hair and a lethal black dress ambled up to them.

  “Hello, Ross,” she said, while casting Isabella a disinterested glance. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  From the corner of her eye, Isabella noticed Ross appeared to be mildly amused by the blonde’s attention. As for herself, she wasn’t amused at all. Not when she could see the woman was looking at him like a wolf studying a wounded lamb.

  “Hello, Angela,” he greeted, then quickly introduced her to Isabella.

  “Angela is the one I told you about,” he said to Isabella. “Her father is on the Cattlemen’s board.”

  The woman who came to the T Bar K that day Jess was shot, Isabella thought. The one visitor he’d considered unimportant. Well, it appeared as though Neal was right. She looked too soft to be a killer. Not to mention the adoring looks she was giving Ross.

  “Yes, I remember,” Isabella said and politely held her hand out to the other woman. “It’s nice to meet you, Angela.”

  The blonde gave her a limp handshake, then immediately turned to Ross and looped her arm through his.

  “I’m ready for that dance you promised me,” she said in a voice that Isabella could only think of as wheedling.

  A tiny frown creased Ross’s forehead. “Did I promise you a dance?”

  The blonde giggled and whacked Ross’s arm as if to punish him for joking her. “Why Ross, you’re such a tease. Now come along. The band is playing a good song.”

  Yeah, good and slow, Isabella thought, as a wicked wave of jealousy washed through her.

  Angela yanked on Ross’s arm and he turned an apologetic look on Isabella. “Do you mind?”

  As if it mattered, she thought again, then quickly scolded herself for having such nasty thoughts. Ross wasn’t hers. He would never be hers. She might as well get used right now to the idea of him having other women in his arms.

  “Go ahead. I’m going to stand here and finish my drink,” she assured him.

  Angela didn’t waste any time leading Ross onto the dance floor and Isabella made a point of turning her attention elsewhere. But every now and then she couldn’t stop herself from looking out and glimpsing the two of them as they wove their way through the other couples. The permanent smile on Angela’s face made it a sure bet that Ross was saying all the right things to keep the woman infatuated.

  “I guess it’s just meant for Ross to get all the beautiful women.”

  The male voice behind Isabella startled her and she whirled to find Steve standing only a few inches away. The fact that the T Bar K hand had said anything to her was a surprise. He wasn’t all that much of a talker. But then none of the other men were talkers, either, except for Skinny. Since she’d been staying on the ranch, Isabella had gotten close to the older man and when he wasn’t busy, he told her stories of things that had happened on the ranch in years past.

  “Hello, Steve. Are you enjoying the dance tonight?”

  He glanced at her, then out to Ross and Angela as the couple continued to circle the dance floor.

  “Sure am, Ms. Corrales. How about yourself? Looks like you lost your partner.”

  A wry smile touched Isabella’s lips. “Oh, believe me, I don’t have tabs on Ross.”

  Steve cast her a doubtful look, then as fast as a lightbulb switching on, a grin spread over his face. “Well, if that’s the case, would you care to dance with me?”

  She could hardly refuse without hurting the young man’s feelings. And besides, what did it matter? Ross was preoccupied with the giggly blonde.

  “I’d be delighted,” she said and offered him her hand.

  The dance with Steve must have broken the ice. Once it was over, several more T Bar K hands came up to her with requests to whirl her around the dance floor. Isabella didn’t refuse any of them and by the time the last man had led her to a chair and thanked her, Ross suddenly appeared in front of her.

  “It’s getting late,” he said curtly. “I think we’d better go home.”

  Isabella stared at him as he took her by the arm and virtually lifted her out of the chair.

  “Really? I was just getting warmed up.”

  He shot her a mocking frown. “Yes. I can see that.”

  Once she was on her feet, she discreetly pulled her arm from his grasp. “If that was meant in the context I think it was, then you’re way out of line, Mr. Ketchum.”

  He glanced around at the people milling about them, then settled an accusing glare at her. “Why did you have to dance with every one of my cowhands?”

  Her gray eyes widened. “Is this some sort of trick question?”

  Ross’s jaw tightened as his gaze slipped over her guileless expression. “You’re the one who knows how to ask a trick question, not me.”

  She breathed deeply in an effort to stem her rising temper. “For your information, I danced with your employees because I was invited to dance. What was I supposed to do? Sit like a wallflower until you finished with your girlfriend?”

  He cursed under his breath. “That was a duty thing.”

  The little laugh that passed her lips was totally mocking. “And what do you think my thing was?”

  “Pure enjoyment.”

  Her brows lifted as she considered his remark. “Actually, you’re right,” she said coolly. “It was much nicer to have the attention of several men than to be totally ignored by one.”

  He took her by the arm again and this time she didn’t try to resist as he led her toward the exit of the building. There was no point in staying any longer, she thought miserably. The evening was ruined.

  As they walked to Ross’s truck, sadness fell over her like a heavy cloak. And throughout the trip back to the T Bar K, she remained silent and pensive.

  It had been wrong of her to behave in such a jealous fashion. Actually, it had been stupid of her. She hadn’t really been Ross’s date in the true sense of the word. As she’d told Marina, she’d been more handy than anything. As for Ross’s behavior, she was still trying to figure out his strange attitude. It shouldn’t have mattered to him who she danced with. Unless he was worried about his reputation as a ladies’ man. And that idea saddened her even more.

  Isabella remained deep in her thoughts until the truck eventually came to a halt and Ross killed the motor. Looking around, she noticed they’d arrived at the ranch and he’d parked at the back of the ranch house.

  Quickly, she reached for the door handle with the intention of getting out without his help, but then she realized she was still strapped behind the seat belt and fumbled with the snap for several moments before she finally got it to release. By that time Ross was already out of the truck and opening the door for her.

  She looked down at his offered hand. “You don’t have to bother helping me out. I can manage.”

  Although it was dark, there was enough light shed by a yard lamp several feet away to illuminate his face and Isabella was struck by the regret that suddenly twisted his features.

  “I thought by now you’d be over being angry with me.”

  She stared at him, amazed that a thirty-minute drive could have transformed him from biting out accusations at her to apologizing.

  “Ross, I don’t understand—”
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  “Come down here,” he said quietly as he took her hand in his.

  Isabella carefully gathered up her long skirt and allowed him to assist her to the ground. Once she was standing beside him, he placed his hands on her shoulders and she looked up at him, while her heart waited and wanted him to say the things she knew she would never hear from his lips.

  “I want to apologize for that…stuff I said to you back there at the dance. You were right. I was out of line. And I—well, I behaved like a jackass. But I was jealous, Bella. That’s the only excuse I can give you.”

  Her throat tightened as emotions bombarded her from all directions. The evening had started so wonderfully and for a while she’d felt like Cinderella. She’d felt as though she belonged to Ross and he belonged to her, and that it would always be that way. Maybe it was a good thing Angela had come along and broken the spell Isabella had been under.

  “Oh, Ross,” she said, her voiced laced with regret. “It was just dancing.”

  His hands moved gently against her upper arms. “Yeah. Just dancing. But I wanted to be the one holding you in my arms.”

  “Angela—”

  “Is just what I said. An obligation. Her father is on the board of directors for the local Cattlemen’s association. I didn’t want to insult him by slighting his daughter. And once the dance was over, I was coming straight back to you. But by then Steve had already stolen you.”

  She was probably a fool for letting his explanation make her feel better. After all, he was a playboy from his own admission. Yet everything inside her wanted to believe she was the woman who mattered to him. She was the only woman he desired. Dear God, what did that mean? That she was falling in love with him?

  Shaken by her thoughts, she quickly glanced away from him. “It doesn’t matter, Ross. And anyway—I was acting a little stupid myself.”

  His hands moved to her back and warmth spread from his fingers and tingled along her skin. “You mean you were a little jealous, too?”

  The husky question brought her eyes back to his and she knew in that moment that she couldn’t lie to him or herself. “Yes. Which was, as I said, very stupid of me.”

  One hand came up to the nape of her neck while the thumb and forefinger from the other hand tilted her face up to his. “I don’t think it’s stupid. I think it’s very human,” he whispered.

  She felt herself melting to his touch and knew where they were heading. Yet as much as she wanted him, she couldn’t let it happen. Her heart was already in trouble with this man. If she gave him her body, too, there wouldn’t be anything left of her by the time she went back home to Dulce.

  “I must have been out of my mind,” she muttered, her voice self-deprecating. “You’re not even my date. Much less my lover.”

  Groaning with embarrassment, she twisted away from him and covered her face with both hands. Behind her, Ross whispered, “You were my date,” he countered. “And as for the lover part—we could change that right now. Tonight.”

  Shocked at how much she wanted to give in to his suggestion, she whirled back to him. “And then what, Ross?” Her wide eyes desperately searched his face. “What happens after tonight is over with?”

  Frustration caused him to lift his face to the starlit sky. “Damn it, why do you have to always think about tomorrow? Do you have something against living in the present?”

  Isabella’s lips spread to a thin line. “Living for the moment ruined my mother’s life. I’m not about to make the same mistake.”

  His head straightened and he looked at her with mocking sarcasm. “Maybe you picked the wrong profession. Maybe you should have gone into a nunnery instead of the law.”

  Her heart was beating fast. Not just from the battle of their words, but because the front of his body was pressed against hers, heating every inch of her, reminding her of everything she was missing and everything she so desperately wanted.

  “That’s a nasty thing to say!”

  His head bent downward until his face was hovering only inches from hers. “It probably is,” he agreed. “But you’re making me feel pretty nasty.”

  “Why?” she asked thickly. “Because I won’t go to bed with you?”

  His hands tightened against her back. “Would that be so bad? Would it ruin the rest of your life if we became lovers?”

  “You don’t understand,” she whispered anguishedly, then groaned as his hands moved from her back to her breasts, where he cupped them in his palms and kneaded the sensitive flesh with his fingers.

  “I understand all right,” he said gruffly. “I understand I want you like hell. And you want me. You’re just too damn stubborn to give in to it!”

  There wasn’t anything stubborn about it, Isabella thought wildly. It was fear that was preventing her from flinging her arms around his neck and begging him to make love to her. Fear that, even at this moment, was beating in her throat like a trapped bird.

  “Ross! I—”

  He didn’t give her a chance to say more. His lips came hungrily down on hers and the sudden, intimate contact caused her to moan and clutch folds of his shirt in her fists.

  The coaxing movements of his lips took only seconds to persuade Isabella to close her eyes and open her mouth to him. Instantly, his tongue slipped inside and she felt herself going hot all over as an aching need built between her thighs and swelled within her breasts.

  Her calves strained as she stood on tiptoe and leaned into him. Her senses whirled like the wind in a storm, yet somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that if he didn’t stop she was going to lose all control. And then nothing would matter but the burning, physical need to be his mate, his woman.

  Just when she thought her knees were going to buckle and the need to breathe was going to burst her lungs, Ross broke the kiss and stared down at her.

  “Do you know what I think?” he asked in a voice thickened with passion.

  Dazed, she stared up at him as she struggled to regain her breath and clear the desire that was fogging her mind.

  “What…what are you thinking?” she asked blankly.

  His nostrils flared, his features hardened as he stepped back from her. “I think Winston Jones not only ruined your mother’s life, he ruined yours, too.”

  His words hit her like the physical blow of a hand. For a few moments she was incapable of making any sort of reply. Then finally she opened her mouth to tell him how wrong and callous he was to twist all the fault of their situation on her. But he didn’t bother to hang around and listen.

  Before Isabella could utter a word, he turned away from her and quickly headed to the house. Stunned, she stared after him, until a wall of tears finally blurred her eyes and an empty ache filled the middle of her chest.

  She’d been a fool for so many reasons. Now she had to decide what she was going to do about it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Isabella slept badly that night and tried to make up for it the next morning by drinking three cups of coffee in one sitting. This didn’t do a thing to shake away her fatigue, but managed to make her nerves even jumpier than they were before.

  She was thankful that Ross had left the house ages before she’d finally crawled out of bed, so at least she hadn’t had to face him over the breakfast table.

  She would have to face him eventually, though, and she didn’t have a clue what she was going to do or say once she was in his presence. Last night, after she’d gathered herself together enough to get into the house, she’d quickly undressed and gone to bed in hopes that sleep would blot out his damning words. But her mind had been churning with all the ways he’d touched her, everything he’d said to her.

  Was he right? she asked herself once again. Was she allowing Winston’s betrayal to ruin her chance for happiness? But right behind that question, she had to ask herself if going to bed with Ross would be enough to make her happy.

  Of course it would. For a little while. Until his desire for her waned and his interest wandered elsewhere. Unless havi
ng a physical relationship with him made him somehow fall in love with her, made him somehow see that living with her, making a family with her, was all he really wanted out of life.

  Oh get real, Isabella. The man is thirty-five years old. He’s had plenty of women in and out of his bed and he’s never fallen in love yet. What makes you think you’d be any different?

  Because she wanted to believe she was special to him. She wanted to believe that the urgency she’d felt in his kisses wasn’t just physical desire, but something far deeper.

  Deciding she couldn’t do any sort of work with this mental torture going on inside her head, she showered, dressed casually in a pair of denim capris and a yellow gingham shirt and headed to town with the excuse of dropping Victoria’s evening gown off at the cleaners.

  At the last minute, she decided to stop by the medical clinic and leave Victoria a thank-you card, just to let the doctor know how much she appreciated the use of the dress and the high heels.

  Isabella was in the process of handing the card to Lois, the receptionist, when Victoria appeared from a door in the hallway and spotted Isabella in the waiting room.

  Smiling with pleasure, she exclaimed, “Bella! What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’re sick.”

  Sick at heart. That was all, Isabella thought wearily. Mustering the brightest smile she could manage for Ross’s sister, she said, “Hello, Victoria. I’m fine. I just dropped by to give you a little thank-you card and to let you know I’m having the dress cleaned for you.”

  “That wasn’t necessary,” Victoria gently scolded, then quickly added, “Just a minute.” After she pushed the manila folder she was carrying onto a shelf with several hundred others, she stepped through a door and out into the waiting room. “Come back here,” she urged, taking Isabella by the arm.

  “Oh, no! I don’t want to interrupt your work,” Isabella whispered under her breath, so that the waiting patients behind her wouldn’t hear.