He looked up, seeing her for the first time. Their eyes met and held. His gaze leisurely moved down her body, slowly sliding over every inch of her, caressing her neck with a light touch before slipping down to her breasts, grazing her nipples. He touched her waist, her stomach, a feather-light burning touch between her legs.
His gaze returned to her face, a slow grin lifting the corners of his mouth. He’d seduced her with his look.
And he’d done it very well.
The cowboy reached for his shirt on the fence rail and, with an easy stride, sauntered toward her, bare chested. God, she couldn’t even swallow. He stopped a few feet away, the fence still between them, but it was all she could do to breathe. He nodded toward the camera.
“Tourist?” he drawled, his voice caressing her, touching her in places that turned her body heat up more than a notch.
“Freelance.” At least she sounded a hell of a lot calmer than she felt.
He nodded. “Lance Colby. I’m the foreman.”
“Nina Harris.” Her gaze moved over that very sexy body again. “I’d love for you to take off your clothes.”
His eyebrows rose. “Ma’am?”
She jiggled the camera in front of her. “Like I said, I’m a freelance photographer.”
“Of what?” He planted a booted foot on the bottom rail and levered himself over the fence, landing on the other side with a thud as his feet hit the packed earth. He stood right in front of her—every delicious inch of his upper body displayed for her viewing pleasure—still not bothering to put his shirt back on.
Breathe!
Okay, this was too much cowboy, a little too much testosterone in her face. She wanted to fan herself but that might just be a little too obvious.
She’d never been this close to a real cowboy. Sexy men, yes, but they were like plastic Ken dolls. She could have as much fun with a vibrator. Not that a vibrator couldn’t be fun.
No, this was the real thing. Damn, she’d love to oil his skin, making it slick and shiny, and…and take his picture. Yeah, right after they made wild, passionate love. Oh, hell, a little down-and-dirty sex would be perfectly fine with her. Would he mind if she just ran her hands over his arms? She bit her bottom lip, quelling the urge to touch.
“Photographer of what?” he repeated, drawing her out of her tantalizing daydream.
She took a deep breath, cleared the erotic scenes from her mind, and raised her eyes to meet his. “Bodacious Bodies…the magazine for women. Have you seen it?”
He leaned against the fence and smiled. “Can’t say I have.” His words held a trace of laughter. “I don’t have much time for reading.”
She wondered what he did have time for. Wrestling bulls? His biceps were large enough that he could easily throw her over his shoulder and carry her inside the barn, rip her dress off…Yeah. Don’t even go there, Nina.
His laughing blue eyes met hers, making her wonder if he could read minds. Or was he making fun of her job?
She squared her shoulders. “I photograph men with exceptional bodies.” She didn’t give a damn how clipped her words sounded. She’d been razzed enough because of what she did for a living. She wasn’t about to take it from this…this cowboy.
“A nudie magazine—but for girls.” His grin widened. “Y’all have your rights as well as men, but then I’ve never much cared for looking at pictures of naked women when I could have the real thing snuggled up next to me.”
She chose to ignore the hot flush of desire that swept over her. “It pays good money.” She named a ballpark figure and watched his eyes widen.
“That much?”
There, that would make him stop and think. She couldn’t help adding another dig and leaned in closer. “If you have the body, that is. Do you want an audition?” She kept her words low and husky.
He laughed. A deep rumbling sound that made her thighs quiver. “Yeah, right, and be laughed out of Silver Gulch.” He shook his head. “Real cowboys don’t pose naked for magazines.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You mean you don’t want to fulfill women’s fantasies?”
“Who’s to say I don’t already fulfill them, darlin’?”
Her pulse quickened. She had no doubt he was telling the truth. “Maybe I can help you change your mind about dropping your pants for me.” His eyes flared with a sudden spark of desire. “So I can take your picture, that is,” she added.
“Will you be around that long?”
“Yeah, I’m the new owner.” Her gaze raked over him. “I guess that makes me your boss.”
He chuckled. “I still won’t drop my pants—for a picture, that is.”
He made it sound like he would under other circumstances, though. The ache grew stronger inside her. She might have to see about that later on. Who knows, he might not be cameraworthy after all.
She abruptly turned toward her car, calling over her shoulder, “Come up to the house around six. You can tell me about the ranch.”
“You going to feed me, Mizz Nina Harris?”
“I don’t cook for any man, but I might be persuaded to throw a sandwich together—if you play your cards right.” She opened the car door and climbed in.
“You are so playing with fire, girl,” she muttered to herself, but it had been such a long time since she felt a desire to step closer to the flame. How the hell was she going to resist Lance? Did she even want to? No, she didn’t think so.
She started the car and drove toward the house. Do not look in the rearview mirror. Do not look…
Her gaze strayed to the mirror. When he saluted her, she almost ran over one of the hedges that lined the drive. Egotistical ass…but, damn, he was gorgeous. Lance would make the perfect centerfold. And she wanted him—to pose, that is—and Nina always got her man.
Her mouth went dry just thinking of him sprawled on his back wearing only a hat and a pair of boots. Oh, yeah, that’s what she was talking about. Maybe she could even get him bare-assed naked on a bucking bronco.
Ouch.
No, that wouldn’t work. She’d hate like hell if he injured anything on that magnificent body.
She stopped in front of the house, then grabbed her suitcase out of the back. Six wooden steps led to the front porch, where four rockers sat. It looked comfortable. She opened the screen door and went inside. The quietness enveloped her like a tomb.
Then she heard thumping coming from upstairs.
A cold chill washed over her. “Hello?” What if the house was haunted? Her grandfather couldn’t be resting too well, knowing that his son had impregnated three women, then left each one to raise her child on her own.
There it was again, coming from upstairs: thump, thump.
Worse, what if there were rats. A shiver of revulsion ran down her spine. She’d rather have ghosts than rats any day.
A door opened.
Rats didn’t open doors. She didn’t think ghosts did, either, but if she heard chains rattling, she was out of there.
She breathed a sigh of relief when a middle-aged woman came to the top of the stairs and glanced down. The woman jumped, slapping a hand to her chest.
“Lord a mercy, child. You scared the hell out of me.” She took a deep breath. “I bet you’re Nina Harris. Your grandpa’s lawyer called a bit ago and told me you were headed this way. I was just tidying up a room for you.” She started tromping down the stairs.
If there were any ghosts, the woman would’ve scared them off. Rats, too.
For someone who couldn’t be more than five feet, two inches and didn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds, she walked as loudly as a marching band. She got to the bottom of the stairs and stuck out her hand.
“I’m Maxine: housekeeper, cook, and chief bottle washer.”
Yeah, and Nina wondered just how many bottles she’d emptied today so she could wash them. Although she didn’t smell any alcohol on her breath.
“I don’t stay nights and I’m off every Sunday and Monday. Not that I go to church or nothin’, but
even so, I believe in God and everything. Sunday just seemed a good day as any to take off since Pete usually had that bunch of saddle tramps over to the house for poker on Sundays. I told him he was goin’ to hell…” Her face turned a rosy hue. “Meant no disrespect. I’m sure Pete went straight to heaven.” She looked down at her feet, then quickly added, “God rest his soul.”
How could a woman so tiny hold that much air in her lungs? She hadn’t taken one good breath while she was talking. Amazing.
“I’m Nina…Nina Harris,” she confirmed, then shook the woman’s callused hand. “Thanks for getting a room ready.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” She looked pointedly at the suitcase. “Can I take that upstairs for you?”
Nina shook her head. “No, I can manage.”
She nodded. “Top of the stairs, second door on the right. I didn’t think you’d want to stay in your grandpa’s room. His was the first on the right. When you get settled in, come on down and I’ll have you a glass of iced tea fixed.”
“Thanks,” Nina said, as she started up the stairs.
She carried her stuff upstairs, pausing at the first door. Without reasoning why, she set her things down and opened the door. Her gaze slowly swept the room. She took a deep, shuddering breath before stepping inside.
There was nothing really special about it. A typical man’s room: heavy ornate bed, two equally heavy nightstands on either side. On a dresser was a jar full of peppermints. Apparently, her grandfather had had a sweet tooth.
She couldn’t stop her smile from forming. Maybe they’d had something in common after all. She loved sweets.
“We could’ve shared our life,” she said, sadness etching her words. Just as quickly, she brushed away the silly sentimentality. It had been his choice, not hers.
She stepped from the room, closing the door harder than necessary, and went to the room next door.
Her room was nice. A canopy bed with an old-fashioned quilt for a spread. She dumped her bag on the floor, placed her camera on a red velvet upholstered chair, and looked around. Warm, cozy—it would do for the length of time she planned on staying.
She strolled to the window and glanced toward the barn. Lance had pulled on a clean shirt. Nice. She couldn’t force her gaze away. But then, who the hell would know she was staring? She leaned against the window frame and looked her fill.
This was too good an opportunity to let slide. Reaching inside her purse, she brought out her cell phone and speed-dialed her editor and friend, Mica, who answered on the second ring.
“Mica, you’re not going to believe this. They have real cowboys here.”
“Well, yeah, you’re in Texas.” She laughed. “What did you expect?”
“Certainly not this.” She watched as Lance bent and picked up a bale of hay. His biceps bulged as he gripped the wire and busted the bale. He bent again. Damn, he had a fine-looking butt. Just right for a man. She flexed her fingers.
“Any of them cameraworthy?”
“Oh, yes.”
“But can you get one of them to pose naked? Cowboys have some sort of code of honor. I’ve yet to have any of my photographers talk one into stripping for the camera.”
“I bet I can have him posing before the week is up.”
“You’re on. I’ll give you a bonus if you can get the shot.”
“And if I lose?”
“Honey, I doubt you will. You never have in the past. But if you do, you can buy me dinner at the fanciest restaurant in San Diego.”
“You’re on.” She’d always loved a challenge.
They said good-bye and Nina dropped the phone back in her purse. Lance disappeared inside the barn and her breathing returned to normal. Except her throat suddenly felt very parched. She whirled from the window and hurried out of the room. Iced tea sounded really nice right now.
Two
Lance felt stupid knocking on the screen door. Maybe he should’ve mentioned that a couple of years ago Pete had him move into the main house. Said he didn’t like waiting for Lance to get up there when he needed to talk to him about something. Lance just thought the old man was lonely, but he didn’t mind. Pete had been like a father to him.
Damn, he missed him.
“Right on time.” Nina walked toward him.
Not exactly walked. More like glided. Her hips swaying gently from side to side. His gaze raised to her face and the wisps of dark brown hair that curled around it.
Her sultry brown eyes twinkled with merriment as she opened the door. “Are you coming in or do I make you nervous?”
Kind of mouthy, though.
“I don’t know. You got anything to eat? I’m starved.” His glance raked over her. It wasn’t actually food that he was hungry for right at that moment.
She’d changed into a pair of red slacks and a bright yellow top with little-bitty straps. The material hugged every delicious curve, and if that wasn’t enough, her perfume drifted over him, wrapping him in a blend of spices and exotic flowers. Maybe he’d been around sweaty horses and working men too much, but, man, she smelled sweet.
“Maxine was nice enough to fix a casserole.”
He cleared his thoughts and met her smile. “She’s a damn good cook.” He stepped into the house, taking off his hat, and followed her to the kitchen. Yeah, he liked the way she moved. She had the perfect ass, nicely rounded, not too big, not too small.
He still couldn’t fathom her taking pictures of naked men, though. It beat the hell out of him why a man would even pose naked. You couldn’t pay him enough to strip down to bare skin and have his picture taken for some magazine. Nope, it wouldn’t happen in his lifetime.
Making love with her, now that was a whole different story. He’d shed his clothes in a heartbeat for one night wrapped in her arms. She had that look about her. The one that said she liked sex. The hot sweaty kind.
He wondered if she knew they were going to make love. Because they were. He wasn’t sure when, but they would. Gut instinct. His was never wrong.
Something occurred to him. Because she photographed all those naked men, she would probably make a lot of comparisons. Not that he thought he was lacking in that department, but he supposed it could make some men uncomfortable.
She opened the oven door and bent in front of the stove as she checked on the casserole. Man, did she ever have a sweet ass. When he realized he was crushing his best Stetson, he smoothed his hand across the creases and set it on a stool.
It was getting really hot in the kitchen.
He went to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer, then remembered where he was. “Do you mind?” Actually, he’d bought the six-pack, so technically he was asking for his own damn beer. That irked the hell out of him.
She glanced at him before straightening and his moment of aggravation subsided. How could he be angry with someone who looked as sexy as she did?
“Only if you’ll hand me one,” she said.
He reached for another beer, twisting the top off before handing it to her. At the rate he was going, he should pour it down the front of his jeans. Yeah, right, like that would cool him off.
“So, tell me about the ranch,” she said, taking a drink before setting her bottle on the table.
He liked the sound of her voice. It had a musical quality to it. Like water splashing over rocks in the Wrangler River on a crisp spring day.
Damn, where the hell were his thoughts headed? The next thing he knew he’d be writing poetry or some other nonsense. He mentally cleared his mind and returned to the subject at hand, and not how Nina sounded. He was acting like a lovesick fool who’d never been off the farm.
Actually, he hadn’t been to San Antonio in a while, and Silver Gulch didn’t really count since he knew all the women there. Except maybe the new gal, Juliet. She was a looker all right, but Rod had already roped her for his own.
“The ranch?” she prodded.
He cleared his mind. “We do our own breeding.”
Her eyes widened and
a slight smile curved her lips. “That sounds like fun.”
Heat rose up his face. Damn mouthy. He cleared his throat.
She was playing him. He thought of a smart-assed rebuttal but snapped his mouth shut. Hell, the worst possible mistake he could make would be fooling around with his new boss.
Something sour rose inside him. He had a hard time digesting the thought of her running the ranch. The only thing that kept him from walking out was reminding himself it wasn’t her fault.
“It’s a moderate-sized spread,” he began, trying for a serious tone.
It wasn’t easy. He sauntered to the table and set his beer down so he wouldn’t have to look at the way her eyes danced with merriment.
“Pete ran cattle and horses. It’s self-sufficient. We plant our own coastal grass, cut it in the spring, and bale it for winter.” He shrugged before picking his beer back up and taking a long, much-needed pull.
“And you’re the foreman.” She grabbed two potholders and removed the casserole from the oven, placing the dish on a hot pad in the middle of the table.
“I’ll take you around tomorrow if you’d like to see some of the land. You could take pictures.” It was the least he could do and, he had to admit, he was damn proud of Pete’s spread. No, not Pete’s anymore. He took a deep breath. It was Nina’s ranch.
“I’d like that.”
They each took a seat. For a moment an uncomfortable silence hung between them. Hell, he knew what was bothering him. Still, he hesitated, then just said what was on his mind. “Some of the men are worried about their jobs. They’d like to know what your plans are.”
“I’ll probably sell the place. I don’t need a ranch in my life.”
It felt as if a knife ripped through him. “I thought as much.” He wasn’t even close to having enough money to buy the property. When the hell had things gotten so complicated? This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be.
“They had to know my…my grandfather wouldn’t be around forever,” she said, interrupting his thoughts.
“They did, but they just thought I would take over after he passed on.”
Texas Bad Boys Page 9
