The Girl with the Golden Spurs

by Ann Major

  “I have to explain about tonight. I—I dressed like this…because my boyfriend left me. He said I was too dull.”

  “Then forget him. He’s a jerk. An idiot.”

  “I wanted to prove…that I was wild.”

  “Darlin’, you’re wild. Trust me.”

  “You know that guy who spoke to me as we were leaving the party.”

  Cole nodded. “Darlin’, how long do we have to talk about this jerk?”

  “He was the guy.”

  “The right guy showed up, and you still left with me. Why?”

  In a burst of emotion she flung her arms around his neck and kissed the top of his black head. “I don’t know why any of this is happening.”

  “Maybe because it just is.” Cole stood up. His arms circled her waist, and he kissed her long and deeply. Then he said, “I’ll leave right now if you think it’s best.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” She laughed. “I embarrass myself by being a failure as a striptease artist, and you don’t want to make love to me and console me.”

  “Consolation, huh? That’s what you want? Okay, darlin’, I’ll console the hell out of you.” Before she could think up a flirtatious reply, he picked her up and carried her to her bedroom.

  He kicked the bedroom door open and then kicked it shut, moving swiftly, silently to her bed before he put her down.

  Moonlight streamed through the shades, gilding his dark body with silver. Without taking his eyes off her, he sat down and removed his boots and then his socks. One by one, the boots clunked onto the oak floor. Then he stood again and unbuttoned his shirt, ripping it out of his jeans and shrugging out of it, all the time devouring her with his hot gaze.

  She gasped at the sheer perfection of him. He was all dark, sleek, rippling muscle—his arms, his broad shoulders, his sculpted torso. When she gasped, he caught her in his arms and quickly stripped her remaining garments off her. The eager trembling of his hands told her that he burned with desire as he undid her garter belt and hand-rolled her stockings down to her toes. Then he slid her thong panties the rest of the way down her legs. Last of all, he finished unlacing the corset, peeling it off her, inch by inch.

  Strangely, when she was completely naked, she didn’t feel the least bit shy anymore. Eyes shining, she reached for him, running her hands over his lean, muscular torso. When she found the zipper of his jeans, her hand slid inside to circle him, and he groaned aloud. When she unzipped him slowly, teasingly, and he yanked his jeans off. Next came his boxers.

  For a long time they simply stared at one another. Then he took her in his arms and folded her close, so close their bodies fused, or so it seemed in her heightened state of arousal.

  He kissed her mouth, her cheeks, her ears, her throat slowly, so slowly. He kissed her until she was breathless and shaking, he kissed her until the bedroom was spinning around her.

  This is dangerous. Really dangerous, she thought as he lay beside her on the bed, facing her.

  “I never imagined this would happen,” he said, caressing her cheek.

  “Are you glad?” she whispered.

  “What do you think?”

  “I’m glad, too,” she said.

  “Then that’s all that matters.”

  “And tomorrow?”

  “To hell with tomorrow.” He pulled her closer. Then his rough hand moved between her legs. Parting them, he touched the delicate feminine folds and explored her while she caressed him just as eagerly and tenderly. When they had each other so wild they could barely breathe, his large body slid over her slim one, and he plunged inside her. Her body welcomed his, arching against him. He went still for a long, utterly perfect moment, savoring their being joined. Then he withdrew from her, slowly, teasing her until she begged for more.

  “Please. Please…”

  When he plunged inside her again, she screamed in pleasure. Again he was still for a long time. Finally, he began to rock back and forth, at first gently and then more violently, filling every inch of her with exquisite, molten sensations.

  Her emotions built and built as his kisses grew hungrier and more frantic. She clung, crying out his name as he drove into her that last time. They exploded at exactly the same moment. Wave after wave of ecstasy enveloped her as they lay still, fused, their hearts pounding.

  Afterward, when he released her, she lay in his arms and felt totally relaxed, limp, utterly complete in a way that she hadn’t in years. Cole. Cole. She couldn’t believe what had happened.

  At last she found the strength to roll onto her side and run her hands and lips over his warm body in wonder. Even with his skin gleaming with sweat, he was gorgeous. He was athletic, lean and hard. Perfect. Too incredibly perfect. It was as if her body had been a missing part of his, as if all this time spent without him, she’d been incomplete.

  She continued to stroke him, liking the way his flesh quivered beneath her fingertips. All too soon, his manhood grew engorged again, and this time she mounted him. He made love to her more gently, rocking his hips so slowly as he thrust, she thought she’d die from the bliss of it. So slowly every cell in her being began to throb in expectation until finally the slightest movement was too much.

  She wasn’t dull. She wasn’t. She was a magical, fiery, sensual being. At least she was with Cole.

  Afterward, she lay wrapped in his arms again, staring up at the silvery ceiling. How could she have ever thought herself so in love with Bryce and feel like this for Cole? Had she only been with Bryce because she’d been so lonely without Cole?

  Yes, Bryce was wrong about her. She was wild. Just not with him.

  Maybe she couldn’t feel like this with anyone except Cole.

  He’d married Mia.

  But he wasn’t that man anymore. He didn’t remember Mia. He remembered her. Only her. Was that the truth? Or was he just saying that?

  All she knew was that no one had ever excited her even half as much as Cole. She didn’t want to believe he was solely driven to acquire a bigger percentage of the ranch, or that her life was an even bigger mess than she’d thought.

  Cole was the one thing she’d been good at. The one thing.

  Still, no matter what, she had to send him away in the morning. Somehow she had to. She simply had to. There was too much bad history between them. If she was ever going to make her life work here in the city, she had to find herself before she got seriously involved with Cole Knight again.

  Yet closing her eyes and nestling closer to him, she wished tomorrow would never come.

  Nine

  Cole woke up first. The bed was too soft and the woman tangled in his arms and legs too warm. It was dark outside, but city sounds and the wail of a nearby siren disoriented him. Then he smelled the sweet scent of roses and saw Lizzy’s silver hair gleaming in the moonlight on his pillow.

  Lizzy. New York. Caesar.

  You should have told her about her father first thing!

  He was a horny, no-good bastard. When she’d pranced out of her apartment in those stilettos and that tight red dress with her breasts bulging and her legs encased in black hose, his untrustworthy brain had gone south on him again.

  He’d barely noticed Vanilla and her friend. He’d gotten hot for Lizzy instantly. Visions of her naked and lying beneath him that had felt too damn much like memories had knocked him off-kilter.

  When he’d followed her into that little room at the party, intending to tell her why he’d come, she’d blindsided him by coming on to him. When she’d kissed him like a wanton, more baffling images and feelings had bombarded his mind and heart. Soon he’d felt crazy with lust and desire—and tenderness, too. He hadn’t understood any of his emotions, but he’d felt on the verge of remembering something so important, he’d had no choice but to follow her lead.

  Her mouth on his in the darkness, her nearness had felt familiar and right. Nevertheless, he should have told her about Caesar then. Period. Now he was swamped with guilt that he’d used her to explore the dark, mysterious re
cesses of his mind. And to satisfy his lust.

  Mia. Where the hell did Mia fit in any of this? When he’d begun to get better after the accident, yet hadn’t been able to remember his wife and child, he’d started asking questions. Joanne and Caesar hadn’t been much help. At first others had been equally reluctant to talk, but after a while, a few of the hands had filled him in.

  Eli had been mucking out a stall when he’d finally lost his temper at being pestered and said, “I’ll tell you once, so listen up, boy. You sprung from the cradle with a chip on your shoulder a mile wide. I never liked you much until after the accident. All you ever talked about was how five generations of double-dealing Kembles had stolen land either by rustling cattle from the saintly Knights or buying Texas Rangers and politicians or lawyers until finally they whittled your daddy down to his last fifty thousand acres. Then old Caesar tricked him out of that in a drunken card game. Whine. Whine. Whine.

  “So you wanted the Kemble Ranch, pure and simple. All of it, if possible. That’s why you bedded naive, bumbling Lizzy. Only Caesar finally outsmarted you and made her see you only wanted his land, not her. When she dumped you and ran off, you ran off, too. Only you came back a few years later with money in your pocket, more arrogant than ever. First thing you did? You got Mia pregnant.”

  Cole frowned, not much liking the man Eli had described. Was that really what had happened? Had revenge and greed been all he’d cared about? If he’d only wanted Lizzy for the ranch, why did she haunt him day and night?

  When Lizzy had offered herself to him last night, he could no more have stopped from making love to her than he could have stopped himself from breathing. Ever since the plane accident, his one ambition had been to remember his life. He wanted his life to make sense. He couldn’t remember Vanilla or Mia. Only the land and horses and cattle and planes and Lizzy sparked something incredible and powerful in him. Somehow Lizzy was the key.

  So, had he used her last night? Would she think that? Or would she think worse—that greed for the ranch had driven him? His thoughts made him queasy. He knew she lacked self-confidence because Caesar had been so hard on her. He would never forgive himself if she thought he’d used her.

  Making love to her had seemed so natural, familiar and wonderful. But although he felt nearer to some vital truth, he was still lost in the dark.

  He pulled her closer and nuzzled his lips against her throat. “Forgive me,” he whispered. “Forgive me.”

  While he lay huddled against her until dawn, he berated himself for having gone to bed with her. He wouldn’t blame her if she believed the worst when he told her about Caesar in the morning.

  Hours later Lizzy awoke to sunlight and traffic sounds outside. She blushed when she opened her eyes and saw Cole’s tanned arm draped across her paler breasts. His other dark hand was wrapped around her waist.

  Bryce had never liked to snuggle or spoon, and she felt vulnerable and deliciously warm and cherished to be lying like this with Cole. Suddenly she felt far too vulnerable to face him in bed in the cold light of morning.

  Carefully, she disentangled his arms and slid out from under him and raced out of her bedroom. Flying across the living room on her tiptoes to the bathroom on the other side of her tiny kitchen, she closed the door and stared at herself in the bathroom mirror.

  The slut in the mirror with the wild platinum hair stared back at her in wide-eyed horror.

  “Oh, God. He can’t see me like this,” she whispered to her reflection, grabbing a brush and vainly attempting to run it through her matted hair. She had to shower and dress.

  Vanilla! Lizzy glanced at her watch. In an hour Mandy would show up with Vanilla. She had to be dressed, and Cole had to be gone before then.

  But she didn’t want him gone.

  A genuine kick-ass New Yorker couldn’t lose her nerve now. With shaking hands, Lizzy turned on her shower and stepped under the warm flow from the spigot. The water felt so delicious, she forgot to hurry. She was washing her hair, when she heard the door open and the shower curtain stir against her naked bottom.

  “Mind if I join you?” Cole murmured, his low voice tenderly enticing as he pulled the shower curtain back and wrapped his arm around her waist.

  When he started to step into the shower, she screamed and shrank against the tile wall, struggling to elude him. His hand caressed her soap-slick body although he seemed to have abandoned his attempt to enter her shower space.

  She grabbed the edge of the shower curtain and wrapped the plastic primly around her body. “No! Go away! I’m not in the mood!” But she was.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said gently, his eyes on her face. “I forgot you’re not a morning person.”

  “You don’t know me anymore.”

  “After last night, I know plenty. And I like what I do know.”

  “That was just sex.”

  He laughed and brushed her nipple through the plastic curtain, as if to tease her out of her bad mood.

  “Don’t! Last night was an…an aberration.”

  “That’s a big word to use on a cowboy, darlin’,” he drawled sexily.

  “Mistake.”

  “Maybe for you.”

  She groaned. Stepping out of the shower, she reached around his naked form and grabbed a towel from the rack. “For your information, I don’t even like you.” Liar.

  “Ouch.”

  “I mean it!” She wrapped the towel around her body and towel-dried her hair with another one from the rack.

  His expression darkened. “That’s a little hard to believe…after last night. You slept with me, remember?”

  “It was a one-night stand, okay? Grow up. That’s a common event in this city.”

  “No, ma’am. Not for you. Or me. I don’t buy it.”

  “Well, maybe I don’t care what you buy.”

  “I bought you, didn’t I?” His quick, flirtatious grin was white and so adorable, she wanted to kick him.

  “Look, you can have the bathroom. Wallow in the tub to your heart’s content. Or shower until you use up every drop of hot water. But I’m going to my bedroom. I intend to dress and get ready for my day. When I come out, you’d better be gone.”

  He swallowed. “So, that’s how we’re going to play it.”

  “What did you think? Last night was sex. Great sex. But that’s all.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Really,” she insisted. He looked…hurt…and that got to her so much her heart began knocking in her throat.

  “Why am I even surprised? You’re the great Kemble heiress.”

  She had to finish this now. “And you’re the upstart Knight with a grudge against my daddy and my ancestors because we’re not drunks and…”

  “And what?” he prompted angrily.

  “Revenge is why you courted me in the first place. It’s why you married my sister. It’s probably why you did what you did last night.”

  “Which is?”

  “You seduced me.”

  “The hell I did. Darlin’, if anybody seduced anybody, you seduced me. Not that I’m complaining. I enjoyed every minute.”

  She stomped past him and was halfway across the living room, when he yelled after her, “Last night before you derailed me, you asked me why I came here—”

  In spite of herself, she froze. “I know why you came, why you’ve done everything you’ve ever done—including last night. Revenge. Greed. I was a fool, okay? I was lonely. I needed a…good time…which you provided. Right now, I—I just want you gone.”

  “You should have answered your damn phone then. Your daddy’s sick, girl.”

  “What?” Her knees went limp with shock as she turned to face him.

  “I didn’t come because I wanted to see you.” His eyes flashed.

  “What?” Her hands began to shake violently.

  “Your mother asked me to bring you home.” He slammed the bathroom door.

  Lizzy forgot she was naked except for the towel she held around her bo
dy. “What’s wrong with Daddy?”

  When he didn’t open the door or answer her, she stalked back across the living room and pushed the bathroom door open so hard it banged against her tile wall. “It’s not nice to slam doors when someone’s trying to talk to you!”

  Cole turned toward her. “He had a stroke.”

  “He had a stroke?”

  “When he was in bed with Cherry.”

  “And you didn’t tell me this until right now? How bad off is he?”

  Cole’s bleak, hopeless eyes told her more than she wanted to know.

  “How’s Mother?” As if she even needed to ask. Her heart ached as she remembered all the phone calls. Her wise, stoic, chilly, depressed mother was frantic. And he hadn’t told her until now! She would have called her last night if only she’d known.

  “She’s in Houston. He’s getting the best possible care there.”

  “How could you not tell me for hours and hours?” she whispered, her own guilt mushrooming as she wiped at the hot tears stinging her eyes.

  “It wouldn’t have made any difference,” he said dully. “We couldn’t leave until this morning. I called the airport. The weather’s great all the way to Texas. You need to pack—fast. Where the hell’s Vanilla? Call your friend. Get her—”

  “Selfish bastard!” Lizzy hissed, stomping toward him. “You knew he was ill and you— You wanted to use me. You wanted to sleep with me so badly, you didn’t tell—”

  “No—”

  “I hated you already, but I’ll really hate you forever for this. Do you understand? Forever!”

  “So what else is new, darlin’?”

  “I could have called Mother!” Even before she rushed him, his dark face went chalk white. She read guilt and regret on his handsome features.

  She remembered the way she’d thrown herself at him last night and she began to pound at his wide brown chest with her fists. When the towel around her body fell to the floor, she stopped her attack long enough to lean down and retrieve it. Not that she wrapped herself with it. She balled it up and shoved at his shoulders.