Anna Leigh Keaton - Risking It All
Risking It All
By
Anna Leigh Keaton
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Risking It All
Copyright© 2007 Anna Leigh Keaton
ISBN: 978-1-60088-158-9
Cover Artist: Sable Grey
Editor: Nancy Baker
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
Cobblestone Press, LLC
www.cobblestone-press.com
Chapter One
A trickle of sweat ran down the center of her back. Her forehead beaded with it. Arizona in mid July was hot and dry and all around miserable. Funny, Neela thought as she swiped her sleeve over her face, when she’d been here as a sixteen-year-old she’d loved the heat. Loved everything about Arizona. Especially the Kincaid brothers.
Now she was here out of necessity. To get away from her father. To hide out like an outlaw until he gave up his outrageous idea of marrying her off to that hideous old man.
She sighed and watched three little boys run around the small lawn between the house and the dusty driveway. For the next few weeks they were her responsibility. Aaron was six, Bobby four, and little Christopher only three. Cute kids. They looked like three miniature versions of their father, Travis Kincaid.
Would he remember her? she wondered. More than a decade had gone by since she’d seen Travis. Twelve years since she’d thrown herself at the devastatingly handsome man and professed her undying love to him.
Her face burned with remembered embarrassment at how he’d looked at her. His Caribbean blue eyes sparkling with humor and tenderness as he’d wrapped her in his arms, kissed her cheek, and told her how flattered he was. But then he’d gone on to tell her that at twenty-eight he was too old for her, and that someday she’d meet a man who would make her forget all about him.
An unladylike snort slipped out of her as she lifted the icy glass of lemonade to her neck and let the cool condensation trickle down to her collar.
In the years between then and now, she’d survived a lot of heartache and physical pain, had even been engaged to a man she’d thought she loved with all her heart. Always, though, in the back of her mind, lived her first love. The first man who’d made her feel like a woman, even though at sixteen she’d been little more than a child. Even though to him she’d been nothing more than a cute kid who followed him around the ranch like a love-struck puppy.
Now here she was, older and much wiser, back on Rocking K, waiting anxiously for a glimpse of Travis. Tingly and excited that he might remember her. Terrified that he wouldn’t.
The joyous chorus of childish laughter made her smile as Bobby and Aaron chased a lizard through the grass. Christopher, the little gopher, sat covered in dust, digging pothole after pothole in the drive.
Travis had married the woman he’d been dating way back then, and they’d had these three cute boys. But his wife was gone. And from what her cousin, Carol—who married Travis’ brother, Jeff—had told her, his wife’s death had had a strong impact on him. He’d become a loner, a recluse of sorts. A far cry from the fun-loving jokester and flirty sweetheart he’d once been.
Carol said his only concerns now were his boys, the cattle, and the land. In that order.
A pickup came over a rise in the road, a tail of dust arching over the alfalfa fields in its wake. All three boys squealed and ran for the porch where they took up positions on the steps to await the vehicle.
“Daddy!” Bobby shouted, waving frantically at the truck as it pulled into the yard with a small, single-horse trailer in tow.
Neela’s heartbeat went into overdrive. Her body tingled in anticipation. Her belly fluttered as if she were still an infatuated schoolgirl, but she couldn’t help it. He’d been her hero, her fantasy, for as long as she could remember.
She rose from the rocking chair and stood behind the boys. Aaron turned and grinned at her, his chubby cheeks smeared with dirt. She smiled back, but her mind was on only one thing.
Gravel crunched as the truck stopped in front of the house. The engine’s rumble died. The driver’s door swung open and out stepped...Travis.
Travis’ heart lodged in his throat, and his blood zinged to his crotch when he saw Neela standing on the porch. She was even more beautiful than he remembered.
Damn it, he didn’t need this.
And damn Carol for insisting Neela would be the perfect sitter for his boys while she was on bed rest and couldn’t watch them.
His sons came barreling down the porch steps toward him, shouting their welcome. The tension in his muscles eased minutely as he crouched down and held his arms out for them. As one giggling mass, they threw themselves against him. He scooped them up with a playful growl, grinning while he swung them in a circle. This was all he needed to be happy, he reassured himself. His family. They were his life.
He settled them on their feet. “What have you been up to today?” he asked.
Aaron grinned and pointed at Neela. “We got a new babysitter.”
“Yeah!” Bobby clapped his hands. “She’s really pretty, Daddy.”
“Nee,” Chris said then ran on his pudgy little legs back to the porch, clambered up the steps, and held his arms up toward Neela.
Her smile dazzled as she bent to lift the child, securing him against her hip. She poked his belly and laughed when he giggled.
Her shoulder-length hair, the color of the richest sable, fell over her eyes as she teased his son. Her skin, the eternally sun-kissed bronze of her father’s Middle Eastern heritage, looked just as smooth and flawless as it had when she’d been a cute teenager. Now she was a stunning woman, with tempting curves in all the right places.
He ground his teeth and wanted to growl in earnest. He did not want a sexy-as-sin ex-model in his house. A pampered, rich floozy who’d made the headlines in every tabloid across America, and probably Europe, with her outlandish escapades. She’d be a bad influence on his boys.
He glanced at Aaron and frowned when he realized his oldest boy already had a crush on the woman. Hell, they probably all did. Each of them looked completely enamored with her.
Son of a bitch. He glanced up, squinted at the bright blue sky, and cast a prayer that Carol would have the baby soon so she could come back and keep his life on an even keel. His sister-in-law had hired five different live-ins in the past seven months, replacements for her after she had the baby. None of them had hung around more than two weeks. Ranch life was hard on women, even ones who were getting paid to be there. How much tougher would it prove to be for a London-bred city slicker like Neela?
Turning his attention back to her, watching her tickle Chris and hearing her throaty, sexy laugh, he prayed she didn’t make it more than a couple days. The sooner she was away from the Rocking K, the better.
Aaron put his hand in Travis’. “Can we keep her?” his son whispered when Travis leaned down.
“No.”
Aaron’s face scrunched up. “Why not? She’s pretty, and she smells good. And she says she knows you from long time ago.”
For the love of God. When had his little boy started noticing that women smell good? “She’s only here ’til Aunt Carol is better.”
Aaron stuck out his bottom lip. “I wanna keep her.” He jerked his little hand from Travis’ and ran up the ste
ps to Neela. He wrapped his arms around her waist and glared at Travis.
Bobby, the nearly silent middle child, more of a thinker than an actor like his brothers, looked up at Travis. “Keep her,” he said then stomped toward the porch.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
Travis whipped off his Stetson and shoved his fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. He stalked toward the porch. He didn’t give a good goddamn if his kids were head over heels in love with the woman. She wasn’t staying one second longer than needed.
He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at her. Wanted to curse. Her eyes were as black as night. Big, almond-shaped gypsy eyes. Piercing. They didn’t look like the smiling eyes of the flirty young girl she’d once been. Even though she smiled at him, flashing her straight white teeth against her lush pink lips, it didn’t reach her eyes.
To hell with her eyes. To hell with her, he thought, ready for a fight. He had to remind himself who she was. What she was.
“Hello, Princess.”
Chapter Two
He’s changed. More so than Neela ever expected. Carol had told her he had, but what she witnessed tonight was beyond anything she could have ever guessed.
Neela wiped another plate dry and set it in the cupboard. The ranch kitchen was large, with a long, scarred oak table and chairs at one side and lots of counter space. She silently thanked her mother for the cooking lessons she’d made Neela undergo. She could only imagine how much more Travis would have growled at her if the supper hadn’t bordered on gourmet.
Growled? Snarled was more like it. When she was here before, Travis had called her princess as a term of endearment. One of the million things she’d loved about the man. Now, when he said it—and he had said it often during the short, tense supper—it sounded more like a curse.
When she’d offered to tuck the children into bed, he’d all but bitten her head off. He tucked the boys in at night he’d rudely and loudly informed her.
She set the last dish in the cabinet above the sink and looped the hand towel through the refrigerator door handle. Her shoulders sagged with exhaustion. Her skin itched, and she longed for a hot shower and a soft bed.
Travis’ older brother, Jeff, had picked her up at the Tucson airport at six that morning. She’d spent over twenty hours in transit from London, sleeping little while in flight and catching catnaps in the airports during layovers.
She sighed and filled a glass with milk. Jeff hadn’t changed much. He was still the happy-go-lucky guy she remembered. He grinned easily and, when he talked about the baby he and Carol were expecting, the man positively glowed. After years and years of trying, Carol had finally conceived. Neela had never seen anyone more ecstatic to be pregnant, even though she was nearing forty and had been warned of the health risks.
Neela laid her hand over her abdomen. Her empty, barren body. Never would a man look at her the way Jeff gazed at Carol. She couldn’t give anyone a child now. She’d seen the look of disappointment in the eyes of a man she once loved when the baby was lost to them. Then the face of disgust when he realized—
“We need to talk.”
Neela jumped at Travis’ deep voice, almost dropping the milk. After carefully setting the glass on the counter, she turned toward the doorway to the living room, to face a man whom she didn’t know anymore.
She nodded for him to continue, realizing that she’d been waiting for this moment. Even if he hadn’t said it outright before, she knew she wasn’t welcome in his home. He’d made it more than clear. But she had no idea why.
Travis stood with one shoulder propped against the doorjamb, thumbs hooked in the pockets of his faded blue jeans that hugged his thickly muscled thighs and cupped his sex like a loving hand. His white T-shirt pulled snug across his impressively detailed pecs, flat stomach and well-defined biceps. The soft cotton contrasted with his golden tan. His booted ankles were crossed in a stance of nonchalance. But his eyes, midnight blue eyes that had once danced with humor and mischief, now looked as cold as an arctic night.
Was it her in particular, or had he hardened so much against all women after losing his wife?
“You look exhausted,” he muttered. But then his voice grew stronger. “Caring for three rambunctious boys can be taxing. If you’re not up for it, you’re welcome to leave at any time.”
She swallowed. “It’s jetlag. I’ll be fine in the morning. I wouldn’t leave you without someone to care for the boys.”
His gaze roamed over her from head to toe then back again. There was no doubt that her presence displeased him. His eyes narrowed, and his jaw set even tighter than it had been all through dinner.
He pushed away from the wall and stalked toward her. She stood her ground, refusing to cower under his dark glare as he paused mere inches from her. So close she could smell the masculine soap he’d used when he showered before supper. The slight hint of coffee on his breath.
“Why the hell are you here?” The question was growled, a low rumble from his chest. His gaze bore into her, making her want to squirm.
With her chin raised and her spine rigid, she said, “Because I wanted a break. When my mother called Carol about me coming for a visit, she said she could use the help. That you needed the help.”
“A break from what, Princess? What do you do that you’d need a vacation from? Spending your daddy’s money? The Greek Isles get boring? Paris not to your liking this time of year?”
The arrogant bastard. She hadn’t traveled away from her father’s home in four years. Travis really thought she was a spoiled, pampered princess, didn’t he? Well, the jerk could think of her what he wished. She knew what she was. If he couldn’t see past the tabloid rumors and lies about a life she’d left behind years ago, that was his problem.
She gave an elegant sniff and lifted her chin even higher, looking down her nose at him. It wasn’t difficult. With her height of five foot ten, he only stood a couple inches taller than she did. “For your information, Paris should be seen in the fall, not in the heat of summer. And the Greek Isles have always bored me.”
His lip curled in a sneer. “Then what is it you’re taking a break from?”
She’d never tell him. It was absolutely none of his business what her father had planned. By the look on his face, she doubted he’d be sympathetic. And if he learned she was hiding out, on the run from trouble that could show up on his doorstep, wouldn’t that prompt him to throw her out sooner?
“Oh, you know. Life on the estate becomes so...staid.” She shrugged and flashed her trademark, camera-ready smile. “Besides, it’d been so long since I was here. I thought it would be fun, exciting, to be back on the ranch.”
His eyes narrowed to slits. As close as he was standing, she couldn’t help but admire the tiny lines that formed beside his eyes. How his face had changed over the years, become more rugged, manlier. He was forty years old, and the years had done nothing but add character to his features. A sexiness that stole her breath. She’d been around perfectly honed male models for several years, yet none of them could even come close to Travis’ absolute masculinity.
His hand cupped the side of her neck beneath her hair. His flesh was rough, work hardened. Her heartbeat sped up, and her skin tingled where he touched. His gaze lowered to the front of her blouse. Her nipples puckered and ached at his intense stare.
Damn her body’s betrayal. If there was one thing for certain, Travis Kincaid was not interested in her. He’d made it abundantly clear over the past few hours that he detested her. She wanted to pull away from his warm touch, but she couldn’t move. He’d snared her with that one touch as if he’d hogtied her.
When his eyes lifted, they were even darker. “So, you’re looking for a little excitement?”
Mind and body waged war with each other. He spoke the words in a seductive murmur that rekindled a desire she hadn’t felt for any man in years. But he didn’t mean what he said. He was angry. At her. Though she still didn’t know why, she wasn’t naïve enough to bel
ieve he was truly interested in her sexually. Yet, that didn’t stop her body from longing for what she knew she’d never have.
He leaned in closer, his mouth scant inches from hers. His fingers twined in the hair at her nape, anchoring her in place, not that she had any intention of moving. For so many years, she’d fantasized about him touching her. His lips taking and giving her pleasure. She fisted her hands at her sides and waited, fighting the urge to fall against his chest and plant her mouth against his.
When his lips grazed her cheek, she shivered in response and bit back a small moan clawing at her throat. He smelled so good. Clean soap and pure male musk. Her fingers itched to explore his chest. To feel the resiliency of his muscles. To run through his thick, dark hair.
“If excitement is all you want,” he whispered, his lips teasing her ear, “I’m more than willing to oblige.”
A small sound slipped from her as her eyelids drifted shut. Her breasts tingled, grew heavy. Between her thighs she was hot and achy. Needy.
“But I’m not one of your jet-setting playboys, Princess. I’m just a poor rancher.” His tongue teased her ear. His teeth nipped at her lobe.
She whimpered. Heat radiated off him in waves. She wanted to be wrapped in that heat. Held tight against his massive chest.
“No candles and roses, diamonds or emeralds,” he said, though she barely heard, so lost was she in the renewal of her sexual self, a woman she’d thought long dead. “No trips to the Ivory Coast or Monte Carlo.”
She brought her hands up to his chest and flexed her fingers against his tensed muscles. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. His mouth teased her and sent bolts of pleasure arcing down her body, straight to her core where she needed his touch the most.
“How could someone like me pass up the chance to fuck a supermodel? Give her the thrill of a little raunch before she goes running home to Daddy?”
Before his words sank in, he spun her around and trapped her between the counter and his body. She felt his hardened cock against her ass as his hands cupped her breasts.
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