by Wendi Darlin
The thin cotton dress with spaghetti straps had seemed like a fine choice when she left South Carolina, but the Wyoming air was cooler than she had expected it to be. She cursed again for losing her jacket while running for her connection in the Dallas airport. This little getaway was off to a great start.
The same few pieces of luggage led by the pompom-adorned duffel made their way along the belt again, and not many people were left milling around the baggage claim area. A cowboy approached, probably back to check for his bags. The place was crawling with men in boots and belt buckles. Coming here was such a big mistake.
She rested her elbow on the carry-on slung over her shoulder and glanced at her watch. She’d better go out front to let the limo driver know she was waiting, or else she might miss her ride to the ranch.
Just what she needed. A week without all the clothes she’d packed, and worse, no vibrator. Rebecca swore under her breath. How hard is it to put a piece of luggage on the corresponding flight? Isn’t that what all those obnoxious paper tags are for? She waited for the carousel to make one more round and tried to convince herself she wasn’t stalling. She glanced again at the full-color glossy brochure for Fantasy Ranch gripped in her hand. She was out of her mind alright. And she was definitely stalling.
Maybe Melinda was right about the cowboys, and the ones on the website were just models used for advertising the place. The real ones probably had scraggly beards, three front teeth and hands so callused they’d tear a girl’s skin to pieces.
“Where are you going?”
She didn’t have to look up. The pointed toes of his boots and faded denim that traveled up from there gave the speaker away. A cowboy.
“Crazy apparently,” Rebecca said without making eye contact, focusing again on the brochure. What in the hell had she been thinking spending a small fortune for such a load of crap? She was on her way to the nuthouse alright, and getting there fast.
“I’m headed there myself,” Cowboy said in an obvious attempt at a joke. “I’ll give you a ride.”
He sounded friendly enough, but she didn’t feel like being hit on. She glanced up to tell him so, but was too blindsided to remember what smart-alecky comeback she’d planned to use. Melinda had been right about one thing. If she had to go crazy, he’d definitely be the one to go with.
“Are you Rebecca?” His dark blond hair hung to his chin in silky strands that begged to have fingers dragged through them, and his eyes could melt a girl.
A flush crept over her. No false advertising there. He was even more gorgeous in person. Her stomach did a somersault. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t go through with this. He was hot enough to sway a nun, and he was just the driver. How in the hell was she going to keep her horny hands to herself for a week? Or more to the point, how would she keep them off herself.
The cowboy held her stare and a slow easy smile spread across his face. Her head defogged enough to remember he’d asked her if she was Rebecca, and she hadn’t had the whereabouts to answer him. He spoke before she could twist her tongue around an answer.
“I’ll take that as a yes. I’m Gavin. Let me get this,” he said, reaching for her carry-on and easily hoisting the bag over his shoulder. “You don’t travel this light do you?”
“Gavin?” she managed. “Gavin Carter?”
“You did your homework,” he said with a smile. “I did too. Rebecca Ryder, thirty-two, biotech consultant from South Carolina.”
He summed her up like a bio off a dating site and his appearance was enough to shake her to the core, broad athletic shoulders v-ing down to narrow hips, long muscular legs and a rugged beauty that took her breath away. She forced air into her lungs. No man was going to take her breath away. That’s not what she had flown across the country for.
“You forgot to mention I like riding bareback at sunset and hot ass cowboys,” she said.
“I didn’t know that about you. Like your temper, it wasn’t in your reservation application.”
His smirk nudged her irritation up another notch, but the light that danced in his eyes sent her animosity slithering away.
“Having second thoughts, or just hungry enough to bite my head off?” he asked.
“Both.” She tilted her face to the ceiling and blew a heavy breath. The man was just doing his job - the job she had paid for him to do - nothing she needed to get so miffed about.
“Sorry,” she said, “I’m not usually nasty. Or crazy. I don’t know what I’m doing here. And it looks like they lost my suitcase.”
“We’ll get you settled in the truck and I’ll go check on your luggage. You’ll feel better when we get you to the ranch. I promise.” He reached for her, his hand barely resting on her lower back.
A sizzling shiver shot down her spine and tripped over itself heading back up again. Holy hell, the devil couldn’t have lit her hotter than Gavin Carter and they’d barely gotten past a rocky introduction. She had to get it together if she was going to survive an entire week out here.
He guided her toward the line of double doors that led out of the airport in a gait as sure and unhurried as the rest of his demeanor.
Maybe the cowboy she was assigned to would look good enough to keep things interesting, but not half as good as Gavin. That would make things a whole lot easier.
Parked at the curb was a stretched out Dodge truck with dual tires, a silver ram on the grill and windows tinted as dark as midnight. He held the door while she climbed in and slid across the cool leather seat. Ahhh, relief. The door shut between them, and her breathing resumed on its own. She wasn’t chilled anymore, nope she was hotter than Hades, and considerably worried she might break into a sweat.
And she wasn’t alone either.
“Hi, I’m Marge,” said a middle-aged woman seated with her back to the front of the truck. Marge’s jeans were new, and she had paired them with stylish but orthopedic shoes. Her body was soft and had settled into its current stage of life. She had to be someone’s mother, maybe even someone’s grandmother. Good for her. A woman’s never too old to want a little love or to go after the attention she needs.
Rebecca smoothed the skirt of her cotton sundress and introduced herself. “You think they’re all as hot as the driver?” she added.
“I don’t know if my ticker can take it if they are.” Marge choked on a nervous laugh and patted her chest. “I guess I really didn’t know what I was in for out here.”
“He does get your blood flowing, doesn’t he?” Rebecca let go of her nerves. She wasn’t the only one Gavin affected that way.
Marge sized up Rebecca’s outfit. “Those are cute boots. I couldn’t find any comfortable enough.” She pulled a bottle of champagne from the door. “It’s all just pretend anyway, probably won’t even need them. You want a glass?”
“Sure,” Rebecca said, “I’m parched.” But she wasn’t paying attention to Marge.
Gavin had stowed her carry-on in the truck and was headed back into the airport. He looked as good going as he did coming. A surge of pleasure overtook her, a sensation she hadn’t felt since Todd was alive. At least when the man was that far away she could still breathe.
She was sipping champagne when he opened the door again. A steady fire fanned out from the pit of her stomach, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. Damned traitorous body.
“Some bags were diverted to another flight, but they’ll be coming in later tonight. Yours will be delivered to the ranch when it arrives,” he said. “In the meantime, I’ll be happy to provide anything you might need.”
She was pretty sure he could provide exactly what she needed, if there wasn’t that No Sex clause in her contract.
“Thanks.” She was careful to keep her voice as natural as possible. “I have a change of clothes in my carry-on. I’ll be fine until tomorrow.”
“Alright then. I’ll take you ladies home.” Gavin’s eyes lingered on her long enough to singe the hair on the back of her neck, then he shut the door and walked around the fro
nt of the truck.
“I hope there’s plenty of water in here.” She relaxed into the seat and took a deep breath. “You might have to hose me down before we get there.”
Marge laughed. “If a man looked at me the way he just looked at you, I would have torn his clothes off and thrown him down on the curb.” She looked down at the hand curling nervously in her lap. “I would’ve wanted to anyway.”
“I think I’m going to like you,” Rebecca said.
“No offense, but I hope I’m too busy with some little cowboy half my age to get to know you.” Marge took a long pull and winked at Rebecca over the rim of her glass.
The women laughed again and Rebecca settled back to watch the landscape roll by. She dug her phone from her purse and dialed her sister’s number.
“Hey, ridden one already?” Melinda answered.
“No.” Rebecca rested her head back on the thick leather seat, sinking into it like a pillow. “But from what I’ve seen so far there wasn’t any false advertising.”
“Seriously?” Melinda’s voice was missing its usual spunk. She was having a rough time dealing with Scott’s latest affair, although by now she should be used to the heartache.
“Seriously,” Rebecca said. Her sister needed distraction more than a lecture. “And the airlines didn’t put my bag on the right flight. So I’m out here without my little friend.”
Marge chuckled across from her and lifted her glass in the air. Usually Melinda would have laughed too, but instead she sighed, and the sound of a door slamming echoed from her end of the line.
“I’m sure you’ll manage,” Melinda said, her voice suddenly deflated.
“Mel, you okay?”
“I’ve got to go. Scott’s home.” Melinda dropped her voice to a whisper. “Call me when you get a chance.”
Rebecca dropped her phone back into her purse and sipped her champagne while she watched the back of Gavin’s head through the clear glass that separated him from them. He had taken his hat off and for the second time she imagined running her hands through his silky hair. He caught her eye in the rearview mirror and smiled. She should have had the decency to turn away, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop staring at him.
His thumb tapped out a rhythm on the steering wheel, and the tendons in his forearm danced along. She hadn’t even seen as far as his elbow, but the slight strain of the fabric against his bicep promised it only got better up there. He was golden, like he spent time in the sun, but not enough to turn himself to leather, and there was just the right amount of pale blond hair coating his masculine arms. The lady at the Chamber of Commerce had nailed it. Gavin Carter was easy on the eyes. Very easy on the eyes.
The truck eased to a stop, and beyond the windshield two massive gates swung forward in the standard Wyoming pace. Slow and steady. Scrollwork across the top of the gates spelled out the moniker: Fantasy Ranch. Beyond stood a massive ranch house and several outbuildings flanked by endless acres of natural countryside and the bluest sky in the world. Heaven couldn’t be more beautiful. A woman could definitely lose herself here.
Rebecca raised her glass to Marge. “Let the cowboy games begin.”
Chapter 2
Marge filled her lungs with the clean breeze that swept down from the mountains, so different from the stale, hot air that lay over the asphalt outside her Philadelphia apartment building. At Fantasy Ranch the quiet was almost nerve-shattering, and the colors of the landscape were literally a sight for sore eyes.
A lifetime of living in the city meant her senses had become accustomed to the never-ending barrage of horns, sirens, and engines. The constant awareness of her surroundings and guard of her personal safety had become instinctual. But here, there was peace, a sense of security she could almost taste.
Years of stress fell from her shoulders like bricks, with every step she traveled from the limo to her cabin. The soft grass beneath her feet reminded her of her grandmother’s house in New Jersey, the one she hadn’t been to in over twenty years. Her grandmother’s house was where she’d always let down her guard, a place where she didn’t need to hide from anyone or worry who might be watching.
Marge hugged herself. She was already in love. Not with a cowboy, though she could see where so many women might make that fall. The young man chattering away at her side was a dream, but too pretty to be anything more than that. His voice was soft, almost feminine, and his hands, clamped onto her luggage, were better manicured than hers.
“I hope you enjoy your stay,” Clayton said as he climbed up the steps to her cabin and unlocked the door. “If there’s anything I can do to make you more comfortable, all you have to do is ask.”
“Just keep the horses away from me.” She smiled but her lips faltered. “I’m afraid of horses. Terrified really.” Her cheeks grew hot. “I know it’s ridiculous.”
“There’s nothing ridiculous about facing your fears.” He set her suitcase on a luggage rack at the foot of the bed and carried her smaller bag to the bathroom vanity.
“I’m not facing anything.”
He moved about the room, turning on lights and pulling back the bedcovers. “You don’t come to a ranch to avoid horses. Maybe you’re braver than you think.”
“I guess,” she mumbled as she took inventory of the room. Five-star accoutrements were everywhere her eyes landed. Rustic elegance had never been so purely defined. It would be a shame to bring such a nice place down. This crazy world needed a little less reality and a few more resorts. Or maybe that’s just what she needed.
“I couldn’t imagine anywhere more perfect.” She passed a folded bill toward Clayton.
“No, ma’am. Thank you, but we don’t accept gratuities. Your comfort is my pleasure.”
She tucked the money into the side of her purse and braced herself against a sharp twang of guilt. As he closed the door behind him, she dug a roll of antacid out of her purse. Deceiving people always upset her stomach, especially nice people.
If these cowboys were criminals they had better manners than any lawbreakers she could’ve ever imagined. This assignment wasn’t going to be as easy as it had sounded.
* * * *
Damn. There were probably at least a thousand words to describe Rebecca Ryder, but ‘damn’ was the first one that popped into Gavin’s head. His eyes followed the swell of breasts down to her narrow waist then over the curve of her hips. Giving her all his attention this week wouldn’t be much of a problem. Either that or it would be a very big problem and he would be taking a hell of a lot of cold showers. Probably both were true, and he’d better start off with the shower.
“Office is in there, first door on the right,” he said, going through the routine as they passed the big house on the way to her cabin. “Dining hall is to the left of the main staircase.”
She followed the direction of his hand with those dark eyes that had swallowed him when he first saw her.
“The house is beautiful,” she said. “I’ve always loved that rustic mountain lodge feel with all those rough timbers and stacked logs.”
Every word lilted out of her in a soft southern way that made him want to just sit back and let her go on for a while. Even when she’d torn into him at the airport she sounded sexy enough to take a bite out of. A voice and a body like that would be one hell of a combination in bed. It figures she’d show up at the one place he couldn’t lay a hand on her.
“You stayed in one before?”
“Once.” She turned away from the house then, and he figured it was something she didn’t want to tell him about. Either that or she would spill every detail about it on his shoulder before the week was up. Comforting her wasn’t the worst thing he could think of.
A jaw-dropping beauty like Rebecca didn’t need to waste money paying for male attention. Men must stalk her in the grocery store. He was close to certain she’d never dropped anything that she had to bend over and pick up herself. Her hair alone was enough to bog his mind with all kinds of ideas he shouldn’t be having abo
ut a guest. That damned southern accent melted right into him, and her eyes. Don’t even get started on her eyes.
Damn. She’d be one hell of a soft, warm body to fall into that’s for sure. And she was smart to boot. She’d have to be to do what she did for a living. Unless, of course, she’d lied on the application. Garrett was thorough with his reference and background checks, so she probably hadn’t lied.
Who would ever expect a biotech consultant to fill out a dress like that? Even boots looked sexy on her. He could only imagine what a pair of high heels would do for those legs, or what they’d feel like wrapped around him. He shook his head. He hadn’t gotten laid in too long. Way too long.
“Over here we have the corral.” He gestured to their right, trying to focus on the job instead of how bad he wanted to get his guest naked. “You signed on for riding lessons, so we’ll start off with them there before we head out on the trails.”
She smiled at him then, her full lips parting to reveal a heart-shattering smile. Yep, Rebecca Ryder could find plenty of men to whisper sweet nothings that she wouldn’t have to pay for. He’d be the first in line. What was she doing here?
Experience warned him she was either some kind of psycho, one of those fatal attraction types, or she was a long way from over her husband. He caught her dark eyes again, searched for signs of crazy, and was thrown by the same feeling of momentary loss he’d experienced at the airport, like he’d tripped and fallen into her, without taking a single step.
This was a woman he was going to have to watch himself around. Too bad he hadn’t met her at the grocery store. She turned her smile on him in a way that made him suspect she could tell what he was thinking. He chuckled at having been caught, and tipped his hat to her.
