Cat and Mouse

by Shelley Munro

  “I was being polite,” Lana said. “They would need a lot of training.”

  “Their future wives are lucky. I’ve started training them already,” Emily said with a smirk. “Or at least I do when they deign to come home.”

  Both women laughed together before an announcement on the loudspeaker drew their attention to the arena.

  The morning passed quickly with the children’s sheep ride, the skilful barrel racers and the novice bull riders. Saber returned along with several friends and neighbors. Lana looked for Duncan and saw him briefly at a distance talking to two scantily clad women in shorts and bikini tops. One even had the effrontery to kiss him on the lips.

  “Lana? Something wrong?”

  Lana jerked her gaze away to stare at Saber. “Huh?”

  “You were growling,” Emily said.

  “Oh! I was thinking about work and one of the companies I deal with,” she said, hoping her pitiful save would work. This jealousy had to stop. Firstly, she had no right. And secondly, Duncan came in the temporary entertainment category and didn’t owe her anything. She accepted a chicken salad wrap from Emily and a glass of straight orange juice from Saber before she risked another glance to Duncan. He wasn’t in sight now and the two women were chatting up another cowboy. Funny, when they both kissed this man she didn’t feel a thing.

  “When is the open bull ride starting?” she asked.

  “Duncan’s event?” Emily glanced at the program. “One o’clock.”

  One of Saber’s friends settled beside Lana and started chatting. The glint in his eyes told Lana of his interest. He seemed nice enough except her thoughts drifted to Duncan. Instant attraction. It had been the same with Jamie as well. She’d taken one look and wanted him. These days she had grown smarter and knew all the love in the world didn’t necessarily make for a successful relationship. Marriage was hard work and an added stress came for shifters—the pressure to have children. It wasn’t that she didn’t like kids because she did. It’s just there were other important things in life such as personal fulfillment. Echoes of Jamie’s last words, calling her a selfish bitch, propelled another wave of guilt through her. Maybe she was selfish. All the more reason to remain single and concentrate on the business she loved.

  The parade of nations opened the afternoon’s events with horses galloping around the arena, their riders bearing flags of the countries who promoted rodeo.

  A brief lull followed before a voice over the loudspeaker system announced the start of the open bull ride.

  “First out of the chute today is William Edwards on Demon Express,” the announcer said.

  The brindle bull exploded from the chutes with a loud bellow of displeasure, lethal horns catching Lana’s attention. Demon Express tossed his rider with one vicious corkscrew buck, sending the cowboy hurtling through the air. He hit the dusty ground and the bull charged over him, catching the man with a glancing blow in the middle of his back. One of the two rodeo clowns sprinted over and drew the bull’s attention while the second helped the stunned cowboy to his feet and to safety.

  “A very quick ride,” the announcer said as the pick-up riders herded Demon Express from the arena.

  Lana stared at the chutes, terror and anxiety overtaking her without warning. She’d attended rodeos before and had even known some of the cowboys. Sometimes they fell badly, although the idea of injuries hadn’t bothered her too much. The thought of watching Duncan take a fall made her feel sick to the stomach. Confused, she tore her attention away from the arena and attempted to chat to the man seated on her right. Like her, he was a shifter, a farmer who lived near the Mitchells. He seemed nice enough, although he wasn’t Duncan.

  It’s only natural, she told herself. She’d spent the last day with Duncan and they’d slept together. That was the reason for her loyalty and nothing else.

  “They say bull riding is the most dangerous eight seconds in professional sports,” Rick said.

  Not what she wanted to hear.

  “Don’t worry,” Emily said. “Duncan knows what he’s doing.”

  “Duncan?” Rick asked. “Are you with Duncan?”

  “No,” Lana said.

  “Yes,” Emily said at the same time.

  Saber chuckled. “One of them is right, Rick.”

  Lana caught Rick’s disappointment even though he hurriedly hid it. “I was going to ask you to dance tonight.”

  “And I’ll say yes,” Lana said.

  “She’ll also be dancing with Duncan during the course of the night,” Emily said, muddying the waters again. “She’s a free spirit.”

  Lana glared at Emily without dampening her friend’s unrepentant smile. A quick glance at Rick didn’t help with Lana’s irritation. The speculative look in his eyes had nothing to do with finding a mate. He was thinking booty call all the way. Huh! She might want sex but she wasn’t easy.

  * * * * *

  Duncan waited for his ride with the other cowboys. Normally the nerves kicked in by now. Not today. Since he’d made the decision to retire at the end of the season, he’d relaxed and enjoyed himself, shooting the breeze with the other cowboys and friends made on the circuit. Instead of thinking about his upcoming ride on Major, the bull he’d drawn, his thoughts drifted to Lana. The more time he spent with her the more convinced he became of the rightness of them as a couple. Jamie, his cousin, stood between them like a silent sentinel. His hand flexed around the railing of the yards where the bulls waited. There was something about Jamie and Lana’s relationship that appeared off. Every time someone mentioned Jamie, Lana’s reaction seemed tinged with guilt. Had she cheated on Jamie? That could be a possibility. Knowing both Jamie and Lana, it didn’t seem likely. But what other reason could Lana have for remorse?

  Whitie, the cowboy in front of him in the draw climbed into the chute, one of his spurs rattling when it knocked against his other boot.

  “Duncan, you’re good to go in chute two,” one of the behind-scenes helpers said.

  Duncan pulled on his protective vest, gently shunting thoughts of Lana to the back of his mind before striding over to the chute. Major was a top bull. He’d need all his wits about him to last eight seconds on the champion. Major’s fabulous corkscrew bucks were famous. If a cowboy lasted the distance on him, they generally placed and often in first. Duncan had drawn Major once before and to his chagrin hadn’t lasted past the second explosive buck out of the chutes.

  The hooter sounded and the crowd cheered. “That was Whitie Bolton on Sinbad, the only cowboy so far to last eight seconds.”

  Duncan tugged a glove from his jeans pocket and drew it on his right hand. He checked the rosin, the sticky substance applied to give extra grip, and applied a little more. Emptying his mind of everything apart from Lana he climbed up onto the chute rails to study Major, the massive crossbred Brahma bull he’d drawn. Top of the bull standings, only a handful of cowboys had ridden him to eight seconds.

  Major snorted as the helpers fastened the flank strap and bull rope around his bulk. He stood quietly. Duncan didn’t relax since he’d seen this before.

  “Hey, boy,” he murmured. “Let’s you and I come to an agreement.”

  One of the stockmen snorted. “This is a new one. Dunc is trying to talk him into submission.”

  The other stockman hooted. “It seems to work with the ladies. You going to the dance tonight?”

  “Sure,” Duncan said, taking their teasing in his stride. While they poked fun at each other, the crowd following the rodeo was a tight-knit bunch. He’d miss them when he left the circuit. His involvement as a stock contractor would be a little different. He’d still need to travel, but if things went the way he wanted, he’d have Lana at his side. “I’m not knocking back a chance to dance with the ladies.”

  “Make sure you leave some for us, mate,” one said.

  “I’m not greedy,” Duncan said. All he wanted was one green-eyed lass called Lana. The rest he’d leave for the other men.

  As Duncan clim
bed down onto the quivering bulk of the bull, Major started to snort and toss his head. Duncan ignored him, knowing his feline scent stirred the animal’s unease. Nothing like a little extra challenge to give a cowboy determination. He’d worked with the handicap from his first ride on a bull, and while some might see it as a disadvantage, Duncan thought it made him a better athlete.

  “Whoa, steady there, Major,” one of the stockmen said. “Haven’t seen him act like this before. He’s usually as docile as a lamb until he springs from the chute.”

  “Must be me,” Duncan said with unconcern, having experienced it before. He settled himself on the broad back, planted his hat firmly on his head and adjusted his grip on the bull rope. When the all clear sounded, Duncan clamped his legs around the bull’s middle, nodded his head and the gate opened.

  “This is Duncan Ross riding the champion bull Major. Only a handful of cowboys have ridden this bull for eight seconds,” the announcer shouted, his voice rising in clear excitement.

  Major exploded from the chute, springing high and tucking his bulky body into his signature corkscrew. The bull landed hard, jarring Duncan’s entire torso before spinning rapidly and kicking back in a series of spine-jarring twists. Dust rose in a cloud, obscuring his vision. Duncan’s hat went flying. He heard the dim roar of the crowd but his mind centered on the quivering mass of muscle beneath him and on his technique. He kept his left hand high and well away from both himself and the bull to prevent disqualification, letting his body flow with the bull’s movement. Nothing fancy required here because Major was a good bucker. All he needed to do was stay aboard. Another buck snapped his body painfully upright. The wind whistled past his ears. Duncan felt himself slipping and knew one more tricky twist from the bull and he’d be history. He rode out a smaller, less powerful buck, regaining his balance. Hot damn, the hooter must be close. Stay on. He could do it, go out on his last ride as a winner. Fuck, this seemed a long eight seconds. Major spun and Duncan’s body lurched to the side.

  The hooter sounded.

  The crowd roared approval. Behind him the thunder of the pick-up horses sounded. Sometimes it was damn well harder to get off a bull than clambering on. Major bellowed and bucked again. The horses caught up and a wiry arm came around his waist, dragging Duncan off before Major could toss him.

  “Great ride for Duncan Ross. Eight seconds on Major. That’s one for the history books,” the announcer shouted with excitement.

  The pick-up man let Duncan slide to his feet and he sauntered back to pick up his hat, slapping it against his chaps before planting it on his head again. Grinning, he waved to the crowd, adrenaline still pumping through his body. As he climbed the railings to exit the arena, he scanned the crowd hoping to see Lana. Disappointment hit him in the gut when he couldn’t see her. He jumped down and immediately the other cowboys surrounded him to offer congratulations on his ride.

  “Good one, Dunc,” Whitie said. “You’ve got a good chance at the championship this year.”

  “Don’t think so,” Duncan said. “I’m retiring. That was my last ride.”

  The questions flew quick and fast, many of his friends telling him he was bloody mad. Too bad. Making his move on Lana had helped him make the final decision. Time to retire and start a new life. If he played his cards right, Lana and he might have a kid on the way soon. He thought about Lana, her belly swollen with their child, and smiled. What a beautiful sight that would be, and if he had his way, they’d have children soon.

  * * * * *

  A cold chill rippled across Lana’s skin when she watched the massive bull burst from the chutes with Duncan on its back. It struck her then how dangerous the sport was. A man could die or end up badly injured from participating. She swallowed, not wanting to watch and unable to tear her gaze away. Bull riding appeared even more dangerous than skiing. Please don’t fall. Her lips moved in a silent prayer as the longest eight seconds of her life played out. Finally the hooter went and the people around her sprang to their feet, cheering and whistling loudly. Lana remained seated because she didn’t think her legs would hold her.

  In that moment her feelings crystallized with distinct clarity. She’d fallen for Duncan. Oh, she wasn’t stupid enough to let him get any closer, but she’d allowed her emotions to become involved. A dangerous situation for her and one she needed to quash before things roared out of control.

  Sex was one thing. Marriage was out of the question. Lana wasn’t afraid to make mistakes. Slip-ups happened. The crime occurred when a person didn’t pay attention and learn the first time ’round.

  Chapter Six

  Lana thought about telling Duncan she wouldn’t sleep with him again after the rodeo dance and presentation. She’d decided it would be best to keep away from him to avoid temptation. But one glance at him across the crowded room and she knew she’d been fooling herself.

  Revelers packed the marquee. A Country Western band belted out foot-stompin’ tunes and dancers filled the open ground serving as a dance floor. Lana sat with Emily at one of the tables, waiting for Saber to return with drinks. Duncan stood with a group of his friends near the entrance to the marquee. Although he appeared to listen to the conversation, his gaze continually swept the room. Looking for her? Her heart pounded at the thought, which made her frown. She would not become involved with Duncan any further because he threatened her freedom, everything she wanted for her future.

  “Would you like to dance?” Rick, Saber’s neighbor, tapped her on the shoulder and smiled at her. “Hi, Emily. Is it okay if we leave you alone?”

  “Go and dance. Saber will be back soon. He’s at the bar,” Emily said.

  “I’d love to.” Lana pushed back her chair and stood, accepting his outstretched hand. Maybe dancing with other men would take her mind off Duncan.

  Or maybe not.

  She knew the minute Duncan spotted her, felt the caress of his eyes when he scanned her form. Without conceit, Lana knew she looked her best. She’d gone to extra pains, borrowing a red dress from Emily. Her lucky dress, Emily had said, pressing it into her hands even though she’d protested the dress she’d brought with her would work fine.

  A slow dance started and Rick took her into his arms, heat from his hands seeping through the silky red fabric of her dress. He smelled good, danced well and seemed a nice guy—except he wasn’t Duncan. Oh boy. She was screwed.

  Panic unfurled in the pit of her stomach while she gave herself a pep talk. Definitely no sex after the dance.

  “Would you go out with me some time?” Rick asked.

  “I don’t get much time off, but I’d love to see you next time you’re in Queenstown.”

  Rick guided her around another couple. “Is there someone else?”

  “No, I really am busy with my restaurant. I’m only here this weekend because the restaurant is closed for renovations.”

  Rick turned her again and her gaze met Duncan’s. The heat in his green eyes made her stumble. Oh yeah. She was in big, big trouble.

  * * * * *

  “Dance with me, Duncan,” a feminine voice said from behind.

  Duncan unwillingly dragged his attention off Lana and turned. “Hey, Jennifer. You look good tonight.”

  The blonde glowed with pleasure. “Thanks. Congratulations on winning the bull ride today. You were fantastic.”

  “Thanks, Jennifer. Maybe we’ll dance later, hmmm? There’s someone I need to see.” When the music wound to an end, Duncan strode over to Lana without looking back. “Lana. Rick.”

  “Great ride today, Duncan,” Rick said.

  “Thanks. Can I steal Lana for a dance?”

  Rick looked as if he might argue. Duncan didn’t let that bother him. He took Lana’s hand and tugged her into his arms. Luckily the notes of a slow dance started, which gave him an excuse to hold her close.

  “You look beautiful.”

  “You scrub up pretty good yourself,” Lana said.

  “Is something wrong?” He could sense her unease, her fea
r.

  A laugh sounded, lost almost straightaway in the noise of the music. “Just thinking about work. I have a lot to do next week before the restaurant opens again.”

  “Can I help with anything?”

  “Not really. Besides, you’ll be off to the next rodeo.”

  Duncan was about to tell her he’d decided to retire, but she seemed so skittish he decided to keep his decision to himself. Some of the gossip might reach her tonight. If he stayed at her side he’d deflect the worst. Of course he could always persuade her to take a walk and go home early.

  He drew her closer to prevent a collision and her breasts brushed against his white shirt.

  “What are you wearing under that dress?” he asked when he noticed her rigid nipples.

  She swallowed and wouldn’t look at him. “I borrowed the dress from Emily and my bra didn’t work with the cut of the bodice.” An attractive flush filled her cheeks.

  Duncan grinned and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You are wearing panties, right?”

  “No,” Lana said. “Emily said the dress sat better without.”

  “Did she? I’m going to have to thank Emily for her thoughtfulness.” His hand smoothed down her back to rest on the curve of her buttocks. “Do you feel what you do to me?”

  “It’s probably a good idea the lights are dimmed in this part of the marquee. You wouldn’t want to shock any of the little old ladies with your hard-on.”

  “We could take a walk,” he suggested.

  “Oh no. You’re not talking me into that again. Besides, you need to stick around for the prize-giving.”

  Unfortunately she was right. “Maybe later after the prize-giving.”

  “I don’t think so,” Lana said.

  Duncan’s eyes narrowed. She meant more than the prize-giving. “I’ll see you later at Saber’s house.”

  “No, not tonight.”

  “Why not?” Duncan asked bluntly. “I thought you enjoyed last night.”

  “I did,” Lana said. “Our night was a one-time thing. I’m heading home tomorrow and we won’t see each other for months. I thought you realized I only wanted sex without promises.”