Resisting Pressure (Rhinestone Cowgirls Book 5)

by Rhonda Lee Carver

  Now she laughed. “Seriously? You’re trying to tell me you didn’t have one intention of sleeping with me tonight?”

  “Yes, I can’t deny I wanted to sleep with you, but I wanted to come out here to—”

  “To what?”

  He shrugged. “See the stars, sweetheart.”

  Her chest tightened. Why did secret parts of her throb? She hated the way her body succumbed to him. “How romantic it’s turned out to be. Take me on a trip just to screw me in your truck. Your rodeo bunnies might like that treatment, but I do not!” She marched down the road, hearing his boots pounding the road and kicking up pebbles.

  “You’re a real treat, Violet. You were so hot at the restaurant that I thought you’d set the place on fire, and now you’re making out like I had some secret goal to take advantage of you? Either you don’t get out much or you think way too highly of yourself. I’m leaning toward both at this point.”

  “I get out plenty, thank you!” she snapped.

  His smirk jumped right through her skin. “If you say so.”

  “I do say so.” She stomped faster on the road, not caring that the small rocks poked at her bare feet. “I think we should just stop talking. Agree to disagree. Otherwise we’re going to be out on this road until morning.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Because you think we should stop talking then by all means, let’s stay quiet. Whatever the princess wants.”

  “I’m not going to let you get a rise out of me.”

  “Too bad I can’t say the same.” The latent meaning to his words and the twinkle in his eye did magical things to her nerve endings.

  Violet continued ahead until a sharp pain radiated through her foot. “Ouch!” She stopped, immediately realizing she’d stepped on something, more than a pebble.

  “Wow…so you don’t like to be called princess, huh?”

  “It’s not that, you oaf! I have something in my foot.” She favored her wounded foot, keeping it from touching the ground and balancing on her toes.

  “Who had the bright idea to take her shoes off?”

  She hopped to the side of the road and into a patch of thick grass, afraid to sit down because who knew what crawled through the weeds. If she made it through the night she’d be one lucky lady. “Yeah, because it would have been better if I’d broken an ankle. Explain how I’d get around at work, taking care of others when I can’t walk?”

  “Wait.” He strolled to her, bending at his knees, looking up at her. “Hold on to my shoulder so you don’t fall.” She did as requested while he examined her foot closer. “You’re bleeding.”

  “What?”

  The creases around his eyes deepened. Was he actually concerned? “The blood is dripping.”

  “That means there’s something still in the cut.” She wiggled her foot, attempting to see the damage for herself.

  “Have a seat. I’ll take a closer look.”

  “I-I’m afraid to sit. I do have a skirt on.” It only took him a second to understand. He stood up, holding her arm, and started unbuttoning his shirt with one hand. Her breath caught. “What are you doing? Nothing has changed between us.”

  “Again, that ego is growing a devil’s head.” Once the last button was undone, he dragged the cotton material from his shoulders, letting go of her long enough to slide it off his arm, and shook it out like a matador to a bull. She automatically skimmed his broad shoulders, wide chest, and the trail of dark crisp hair from his navel disappearing into the low waist of his jeans. Breathing became very difficult and her heart took on a faster pace. Why did he have to look so good without a shirt? She’d never seen a better set of abs or obliques. Or biceps. And the scars that were proof he’d been thrown a few times in the arena.

  A breeze swept across them and she got an overwhelming whiff of man—spice, leather and sweat. She imagined that was how he’d smell if they were stripped and going at it like—

  “Don’t fall. I’m letting go.” He brushed around her, spreading his shirt in the patch of grass. “There you are, princess.”

  Biting off a four letter name that wasn’t jerk this time, his kindness taking off some of the edge, she eased down onto the make-shift blanket. She clutched the soft material, a desire to lift it to her nose swarming her insides, and she immediately scorned her misbehaving thoughts. His warm gaze settled on her legs and she swallowed hard as her skirt shimmied up her thighs. She tugged at the stubborn hem, jerking it down as far as the cotton/spandex would allow. One corner of his lips curled into a mischievous smile. Being hurt didn’t mean she could ignore modesty.

  A low sound came from him. A groan maybe?

  She closed her eyes, gaining her internal balance, but only to have her axis tilted again when his calloused touch came at her ankle. She jerked open her eyes, a squeal falling off her lips. He smiled bigger—in a way that she knew he realized what he did to her. The cowboy didn’t need his giant ego boosted. He probably had every available, and some not, female this side of Texas lining up to get his autograph, and anything else he was giving away. She knew his type all too well. “Be careful.” The words slipped out before she could reel them in.

  “No, worries, sweetheart. I’ll be very gentle.”

  He misunderstood, thankfully.

  She almost choked on her saliva. Yeah, she’d bet her eyeteeth that he’d be anything but gentle and that only made her inner thighs tremble like a shack in an earthquake. Her last lover liked the missionary position, nothing but, and his endurance in running marathons didn’t show up in bed. She ached for a man who wasn’t afraid to show her what he liked, to heat up the sheets, and tell her what he needed. She wasn’t talking kink—just a man who wasn’t bashful when it came to matters of lust. In turn, she wanted to trust. The familiar ache in her throat returned. That T word always seemed to spoil things.

  Although she had baggage, she was still a woman who craved a man’s touch, but a relationship, not so much.

  A man who could ride seventeen-hundred pounds of bull would have no problem riding her one-hundred twenty pounds. Realizing she was smiling, she met Keefer’s gaze. Nope. Not going to happen no matter how much her body disagreed. “Let’s just get this over with,” she muttered.

  His fingers moved across her sensitive flesh effortlessly, igniting sensations underneath her skin with his long, wide fingers and rough palms. She watched his hands move, gliding, striking up her nerve endings. His skin tone made her look pale. Examining his fingernails, she’d expected them to be dirty and ragged, but surprisingly, they were a nice square shape and not a speck of dirt under any of them. An image of those fingers touching her in secret places made her panties wet and her clit pulsate in urgency. Yeah, this was dangerous. Six months without sex made her a raging libido.

  He lifted her leg higher and another yelp slipped from her. The temperature picked up by ten degrees and her skin became slick under his touch. They could have a quickie, right here alongside the quiet road, and no one would know. It’d only take a tug of his buckle, a slide of her skirt and—

  “What are you smiling about?” The corners of his eyes crinkled.

  “I’m smiling?” Now her facial expressions were out of control.

  “Yeah, you are.” He reached into his pocket, retrieved his phone and clicked on the light, using it to inspect the wound. "Looks like a piece of glass. Hard to tell how big with all of the blood.”

  Dragging her brain onto something other than his tight, solid muscles and deft hands, she remembered she had makeup removers in her purse. “Here. I have something.” She reached inside, took out the mini packet of cloths and handed one to him. “These should help to clean the area. Hold the cloth against the cut firmly for a minute and the bleeding should stop.”

  “Won’t it hurt?”

  “Probably a little. You’re not a wienie when it comes to blood, are you?”

  “My own, no.” He did as she asked. A pain shot through her heel and she involuntarily jerked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.�
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  “It can’t be helped. I guess my nerves are hypersensitive,” she admitted.

  He removed the bloody cloth. “Grab me another.” She did. He carefully wiped the remaining dirt and blood from her foot. “Definitely a shard of glass. You wouldn’t happen to have a pair of tweezers in that bag would you?”

  She smiled. “I do.” She reached in and brought out the grooming set, removing the tool from the plastic case.

  “I was only teasing, but looks like you’re definitely prepared for anything.”

  “I spend a lot of time at the hospital so I make sure I have everything I need.”

  “You wouldn’t happen to have a gas can in there too?” She gave her head a shake. “Didn’t think so.” He positioned the tweezers by her foot and she jerked again.

  “Wait.” She touched his shoulder, delighting in the feel of his warm skin under her fingers.

  “For what? Until it starts bleeding again?”

  “No..”

  He chuckled. “Now who’s the wienie?”

  “You’re freaking me out because you’re nervous and pale. You’re not going to pass out, are you?”

  “Hell no,” he scoffed.

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I get it. You’re a nurse who likes helping others, but doesn’t know how to accept help in return. No one can help as well as you.” His expression softened and his smile relaxed her—some.

  “I’m not used to having someone take care of me outside of my sisters.” Especially a gorgeous cowboy.

  “You could close your eyes if that’ll make it better.”

  “No. I have to see everything” Miss a chance of seeing his muscles tense and coil? No way. This was the highlight of her week. The thought exhilarated and saddened her at the same time.

  “Suit yourself.” He sat down on his bottom, extending his longs legs beside her. She noticed how the crotch of his jeans stretched across the bulge behind his zipper. Was he hard? From touching her? Sweat beaded between her breasts. “One of your sisters is the one my buddy, Jobe, was at dinner with after the auction, right?”

  She threaded her fingers through her hair, pulling it away from her cheeks and laid back to rest on her elbows. Anything to keep from staring at him like an enchanted puppy. “That’s Ruby. I have two other sisters as well. Crystal and Sapphire.”

  He blinked. “What’s up with the pattern of names? All gemstones.”

  This wasn’t the first time she’d been asked that question. “I guess it wasn’t enough that our last name was Stone. We had to be named after gems too. I have cousins who are named Jewels, Pearl and Emerald Stone.”

  He smiled and it actually reached his eyes. “Emerald? I bet that was a doozy to learn to spell for a wee one.”

  “Wee One? I like that endearment. My mom used to call us girls her ‘wee ones’.”

  “You and your sisters still live at home?”

  “Yes. Please don’t tell me you’re going to say something rude about the chicks needing to fly the nest.”

  “No I wouldn’t dare.” He winked. “I have a feeling there’s quite a history between Jobe and Ruby. He was hell bent on winning a date with her.”

  Violet nibbled at the corner of her mouth. She couldn’t tell Keefer that Ruby and Jobe were an item a few years back and she became pregnant with his baby, keeping it a secret. Violet had a feeling everyone would know the truth soon. Ruby was still madly in love with Jobe, obviously. “What about you, Keefer? Why did you bid for me at the charity auction?”

  “Why did you agree to be auctioned off for a date with a stranger?”

  “Answering a question with a question never works. As you know, I work at the hospital and all proceeds from the auction goes to the children’s ward. A co-worker did it last year and she said they raised over fifty thousand, so I thought I should do my part. Now your turn.” He wasn’t getting off easy.

  He shrugged. “I was approached by someone from the fundraising committee, asking if I’d like to buy tickets to the charity function and I did. I wasn’t necessarily planning to bid, just watch, but I guess I wasn’t a watcher after all.” He wagged his brows. “Look where it landed us.”

  “Yeah, in the middle of nowhere with a piece of glass stuck in my foot.” Realizing how negative her words sounded, she gave him a small smile. “What drove you to bid on me? There were lots of beautiful women volunteering. Lawyers. Doctors. Even a model who I heard was on a magazine cover last year.”

  “You really don’t remember me do you?”

  “Prior to the charity?”

  “From the emergency department almost six months ago. I was brought in after a dirt bath from a bull. I hit my head and had fractured my elbow. Hell, if it’d been up to me, I’d gone to my trailer and taken a couple aspirin. Damn insurance with all their hoops, saying it’s too risky not to be checked out for a head injury.”

  “Better safe than sorry. Can’t let your stubbornness be the death of you.” She searched her brain, through all of the patients she’d seen, but couldn’t place him…until… “Ah, you were brought in listed with head trauma and possible internal injuries. Neck in a brace, a bandage covering your forehead.”

  “You do remember me, or at least the flat on my back in pain version.”

  “But it wasn’t Keefer on the medical charts. It was Christopher Lane and I remember there was a lot of talk going around that we had a rodeo stud in our department.” She could have sworn his cheeks turned a pale pink but vanished before she could be sure. So maybe he did have a bashful bone in his body.

  “Keefer is a nickname that had stuck with me since elementary school. My buddies could never pronounce Christopher right.”

  “I like Christopher. You’re lucky to be alive. You took a pretty bad fall.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve heard that a time or two.” He clicked off the light to his phone. “All done.” His didn’t make a move to let go of her foot.

  “Done?” She actually felt a bit disappointed.

  “Bleeding has stopped, glass is gone, and you’re all set. Looks like you’re not the only one with a healing touch.” His eyes dazzled, matching the brilliancy of the sky.

  Clearing her throat, she pulled her foot out of his grip, instantly cold. “I guess you’re right.” He stood and helped her to her feet. She tested the weight on her wounded foot. “Thank you. It no longer hurts.”

  “Well, you need a bandage, but for now, it’ll do.”

  Smoothing her dress down her thighs, she looked up and down the quiet road and across the wheat field. The sun was setting along the edge of the tree line. Soon, it would be dark and she’d rather not be out here in the middle of nowhere that long. “Why is there no traffic on this road? I understand we’re out in the country, but not even one car has passed this entire time.”

  “This is all private property. I know the person who owns all of it.” He waved a hand around the perimeter. “It’s a dead end road.”

  “You have a friend that lives on this road? A house with a phone?”

  “No, eventually he’ll build a house. He plans to start a ranch. When I came out here to check out the land I was taken back by the gorgeous views from the property. I can only imagine what it looks like at night.”

  “And that’s why you wanted to bring me here?” As angry as she was at their dismal situation, she couldn’t deny she found his effort sweet and thoughtful.

  “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” He rubbed his jaw. “I guess we have no other choice.”

  “No other choice but what?”

  He took two steps toward her, pausing in front of her and leaning in. Her mind swirled, her palms became clammy. He was going to kiss her! She closed her eyes in anticipation, waiting, but it didn’t come. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her waist. She flipped her eyes back open just as he lifted her up, supporting her in his muscular arms. “What are you doing?” she sputtered.

  “I’m carrying you.” He adjusted her higher on his chest and sh
e could only relax against him. The hem of her skirt slid higher on her thigh and his fingers erupted tingles over her skin. She pressed her hands on his shoulders, attempting to keep her back straight, otherwise she’d sink against him and be a goner. Not only did he look good, but his scent should be bottled.

  “Why?” she practically choked on the word.

  “Because you can’t walk on that sore foot. We don’t want it to start bleeding again, do we?” He was already moving, but she was safely tucked against his body—a very good place to be—and a very dangerous one.

  “I’m too heavy to carry.”

  “You’re no heavier than a bale of hay.”

  “A bit more, but I can’t ask you to do this.” A tickling sensation stuck in her throat. Her nipples pebbled and ached.

  “You didn’t ask. Relax. Make it easier for me.” He winked.

  How in the world could she be this close to him, with him looking this sexy, smelling so good, and she’d have to remain detached? What were her earlier thoughts on not dating a cowboy? It didn’t matter. She had no rules against have sex with a cowboy.

  Then it flashed through her brain that he wouldn’t be asking for a third date and her spine automatically stiffened. Could he have just said that to irk her? Why wouldn’t he ask her out for another date? She should probably concentrate on getting through the current one because it wasn’t over yet.

  Up ahead she could hear the low hum of a car passing. “How close are we to the main road?”

  “Just a bit more.” He didn’t even show any signs of exhaustion from carrying her. Yes, this man would have the endurance in bed that she desired.

  Once they reached the end of the narrow lane, he gently placed her on her feet and she took a short step away from him. “Instead of heading on the road toward the city, I say we head south. I do believe it’s closer to civilization. There’s a small town about a mile up,” he said.