Home to Blue Stallion Ranch

by Stella Bagwell

  Holt couldn’t stand anymore. He placed the brownie and the cup onto the cabinet counter and reached for her. As he circled his arms around her, he murmured, “These past few days I’ve done a hell of a lot of thinking, Isabelle. About that kiss that blew me away—about those strings that neither of us want. And the more I think, the more everything comes down to this.”

  He lowered his head and covered her lips with a kiss that was just long enough to fill his loins with heat, yet short enough to keep him from losing his breath.

  “Holt, I—”

  “You want me. I can hear it in your voice. Taste it in your lips.”

  There was no indecision in her eyes as her hands came up to curl over the tops of his shoulders.

  “Yes,” she murmured huskily. “I do—want you—very much.”

  He brought his lips back to hers and she groaned as his lips moved over hers in a rough, consuming kiss. She matched the hungry movements of his mouth and in a matter of a few short seconds, Holt was out of his mind with need to have her closer.

  When he finally found enough willpower to tear his mouth from hers, he could see a dazed cloud in her eyes. He was equally stunned by the passion exploding between them, and his rattled state must have flickered in his eyes.

  “You’re not thinking about leaving, are you?”

  Tightening the circle of his arms, he said, “I couldn’t leave you now even if Ollie and Sol started yelling the barn was on fire.”

  Her laugh was low and sexy and the erotic sound was like fingertips walking across his skin.

  “I think the coffee can wait.” She took his hand and led him out of the kitchen and down a long hallway to her bedroom.

  There was no light on inside, but like the rest of the house, the windows were bare of curtains and the silver glow from a crescent moon was enough to illuminate a path to a queen-size bed covered with a patchwork quilt.

  As soon as they reached the side of the mattress, she released her hold on his hand and slid her arms around his waist. Holt dropped his head and found her lips once again. This time he tried to keep the kiss slow and controlled, but that plan was waylaid the moment her lips began to respond to his. Like a flash fire, their embrace turned hot and out of control.

  “This is going too fast, Isabelle. But I—”

  Frantically, she whispered, “I don’t want you to slow down.” She planted quick little kisses against his jaw and throat. “I can’t bear the waiting. We’ll go slower the next time.”

  The next time. Just the idea of a second time with this woman was enough to lift the hair off his scalp.

  “I can’t bear the waiting either.” His voice sounded like he’d been eating gravel and his hands were shaking as they skimmed down her back and onto her hips.

  Having sex with Isabelle. That’s all he was doing, Holt silently shouted at himself. This wasn’t anything to fear. It wasn’t going to change him. All it was going to do was give him pleasure. Hot, delicious pleasure.

  He recognized her hands were on the front of his shirt, jerking at the pearl snaps. When the fabric parted and her palms flattened against the bare skin of his chest, he was already hard, his body aching for release.

  “I, uh, better do this, Isabelle—or—we might never make it onto the bed.”

  With the smile of a tempting siren, she stepped aside and began to undress. Next to her, Holt hastily jerked off his boots and jeans, then added his shirt to the pile. From the corner of his eye, he saw a circle of denim pool around her bare feet. Before she could step out of it, he planted his hands on either side of her waist and lifted her backward and onto the bed.

  The jeans dangled from her toes and she laughingly kicked them off as she waited for him to join her.

  “You’re still dressed,” Holt said.

  She glanced down at the black scraps of lace covering her breasts and the V between her thighs. “You should be able to handle these little ole things.”

  He joined her on the bed and allowed his gaze to take in the glorious sight of her nearly naked body.

  “It’ll be my pleasure.” Propping his head up on one elbow, he used his other hand to slip over the mound of one breast, then onto the concave of her belly. “The moonlight makes you look like a silver goddess. I’m not sure that you’re real. I should kiss you just to make sure.”

  She rolled eagerly toward him. “I’m real, Holt, and at this moment I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, except here with you.”

  Holt wasn’t expecting her little confession to smack him in the chest, but then nothing about this time with her was how he’d thought it might be. She was making him feel vulnerable and insecure. It was crazy. Even laughable. Yet he couldn’t laugh. He was too busy worrying that he was going to disappoint her.

  “Isabelle.” Her name came out on a whisper as he thrust his hand into her hair and allowed the white-blond strands to slide through his fingers. “I’ve imagined you—us—like this so many times. But I—wasn’t sure it would ever happen.”

  “I wasn’t sure I wanted it to happen.”

  “And now?”

  Sighing, she echoed his earlier words. “I couldn’t leave you if Ollie and Sol yelled the barn was on fire.”

  He leaned over and kissed the lids of her eyes, then moved his lips down her nose and finally onto her mouth. Her arm slipped around his waist and she tugged herself forward, until the front of her body was pressed tightly against his. The sensation of having her warm skin and soft curves next to his bare body very nearly shattered the fragile grip he held on his self-control.

  He broke the kiss and scattered a trail of kisses beneath her ear and down the side of her neck until he reached the spot where pulse thumped against the soft skin. His lips lingered there, savoring the taste, before he finally claimed her mouth in another hungry search.

  After that, his brain became too fuzzy to clearly perceive what the rest of his body was doing. He remembered slipping away her lingerie and his boxers, recalled her reassuring him that she was on birth control. Then the next thing he knew, his hands were cupped around her breasts and he was entering her with one urgent thrust.

  Her soft cry of pleasure jolted his rattled senses and he looked down to see her face bathed in moonlight. The delicate features were almost ethereal, making him wonder if he was going to suddenly wake and discover this was an incredible dream.

  But then her hips suddenly arched toward his and the reality of the moment hit him. Slowly and surely he began to move inside her and as he did, he realized his greatest fear about making love to Isabelle had happened. After this night, he’d never be the same.

  * * *

  This was not what Isabelle had imagined. Making love to Holt wasn’t supposed to be turning the room upside down. His kisses, his touches weren’t supposed to be slinging her senses to some far-off galaxy. But that was exactly what was happening.

  His hands were racing over her bare skin, lighting a fire wherever his fingers dared to touch. His lips were consuming hers, while his tongue probed the sensitive area beyond her teeth. She welcomed his dominating kiss and reveled in the fact that it was melting every bone in her body.

  Over and over, he thrust into her and the feeling was all so glorious, so incredible, that the pleasure was almost too intense for her to bear. And when she began to writhe frantically beneath him, he must have recognized her agony.

  He tore his mouth from hers and buried his face in her tumbled hair. “Hold on, my sweet,” he whispered urgently. “Just a—moment longer. A moment more—so I can give you—everything. Everything!”

  With her legs wrapped around his hips, she gripped his shoulders and tried to hang on, but it was impossible to stop the white-hot tide of pleasure from washing her away.

  Through the whirling haze, she heard him cry her name and felt his final thrust. She tried to breathe, but her lungs had ceased to func
tion. And then breathing suddenly seemed superfluous as the room turned to velvety space and the both of them were drifting through an endless universe.

  When Isabelle finally regained awareness, her cheek was pinned between the mattress and Holt’s shoulder. With most of his weight draped over her, the pressure on her lungs made breathing even more difficult. Even so, she didn’t want him to move. She wanted to hold him close for as long as he would stay.

  “Sorry, Isabelle. I’m squashing you.” He rolled to one side and pulled her into the curve of his warm body.

  Sighing, Isabelle pillowed her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Neither of them spoke, but the silence was far from awkward. She was enjoying the precious sound of his breathing, the night wind blowing against the window and the faint whinnies of the mares as they accustomed themselves to their new home.

  This was everything she’d ever wanted, Isabelle thought drowsily. Her ranch and a man who filled her heart to the very brim.

  “I hear the mares,” Holt murmured. “They’ve been through some changes today. They’re not sure what’s going to happen to them now.”

  Isabelle could empathize with the horses. Her life had taken a drastic change tonight, too. And she had no idea what it might do to her future or her happiness. She wanted to think that Holt might want them to remain together. Not just for a few weeks or months, but for always. And yet, she recognized that wasn’t likely to happen.

  Resting her palm upon his chest, she said, “They’ll soon realize that they’re safe.”

  His fingers absently played with her hair. “I’ve been thinking about those two mares I bought today. Do you like them?”

  She slid her hand across his warm muscles until she felt the quick thump of his heart. “I love them. Next to blue roan, my favorite color is plain brown with no markings. They’re almost as hard to find as the blues and today you happened to latch onto two of them. You’re a lucky man, Holt.”

  “Yeah, like latching onto you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Now, about the mares—what would you say about keeping them here at Blue Stallion for a while? Since they’re already bred, there’s no need for me to put my stud on them. Maybe we could go partners on them?”

  She snatched the sheet against her naked breasts and sat straight up. “Partners? Really?”

  A lopsided grin spread over his face. “Yes. Really.”

  The grin coupled with the dark hair tousled across his forehead, along with the five o’clock shadow on his jaw, was enough to shred her focus. The subject of the mares completely left her mind as she leaned down and kissed him softly on the lips.

  “Mmm. That’s so nice,” she said.

  His hand came to rest against the back of her head and he held her there, kissing her again, until desire began to flicker and glow deep within her.

  “My suggestion about the mares? Or the kiss?” he wanted to know.

  She smiled against his lips. “The kiss. And the mares. I’d love to keep them here with me.”

  And keep you here, too, she wanted to add. But bit back the words before they could slip out. For tonight it was enough to be in his arms.

  He said, “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

  She cupped her hands around his face. “I thought you wanted to hear it was time to finally eat those brownies we left on the counter.”

  A chuckle fanned her lips, and he pressed her shoulders backward until she was lying on the mattress and he was hovering over her.

  “What brownies?”

  Her soft laugh was instantly blotted out with a kiss.

  * * *

  “Wake up, sleepyhead. You’re burning daylight.”

  The sound of Isabelle’s voice caused Holt’s eyes to pop open and he blinked several times before he managed to focus on her image standing at the side of the bed.

  She was already dressed in jeans and boots and a blue shirt that matched her eyes. One hand was holding a cup of steaming coffee.

  “Is that coffee for me?”

  The smile on her face was as bright as the morning sunlight streaming through the windows.

  “It is. How do you want your eggs? Fried, scrambled, or in an omelet?”

  He didn’t have time for eggs! He shouldn’t even be here! What had he been thinking last night?

  He hadn’t been thinking, that’s what. Making love to Isabelle and lying next to her warm body had lulled him into a quiet sense of contentment. Instead of getting up and going home, he’d fallen asleep.

  He took the cup from her and swallowed several hurried gulps before he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

  “I really shouldn’t take time to eat, Isabelle. If I don’t get home, I—my family is going to send the law out looking for me.”

  Her brows shot up. “Really? Aren’t they used to you being out all night?”

  His face hot, he purposely set the coffee aside and reached for his clothing. “Not like this. Not overnight.”

  “Oh.”

  He pulled on his boxers and jeans before he glanced at her. She looked confused and skeptical, which made him even more frustrated with himself. Holt had always made special rules for himself regarding women. And he’d always followed them. Until now.

  Standing, he zipped and buttoned his jeans. “That doesn’t ring true with you, does it?”

  “I didn’t say that.” She moved close enough to rest her hand on his forearm. “And frankly, it doesn’t matter. That was then, this is now. Anyway, we agreed there’d be no strings. Remember?”

  Hell, was she going to keep bringing that up? He was getting tired of hearing it.

  That’s the way it has to be, Holt. Keeping things casual is the best way for both of you. She won’t get hurt when your eye starts to stray elsewhere. And you won’t give it a second thought when she finds herself another man.

  The mocking voice in his ears made his head throb and he reached for the coffee cup. Caffeine was all he needed right now, he assured himself. That and a plate of food. The rest would fix itself once he got home to Three Rivers.

  After several more sips of the hot liquid, the bitter taste in his mouth eased enough for him to speak. “Yeah, I remember.”

  She studied his face for a long moment, then stepped closer. “Holt, are you regretting last night?”

  The confusion on her face suddenly wiped away the turmoil going on inside him. He placed the coffee back on the nightstand and wrapped his arms around her. “Oh, no, Isabelle. Last night was incredible.”

  She tilted her face upward until their gazes locked. “It was that way for me, too,” she said softly.

  Everything about her was warming him, touching him in ways that tilted his common sense and went straight to his heart.

  You don’t have a heart, Holt. You have lust and pride and a man’s ego, but when it comes to women, you’re lacking a heart.

  Shoving aside the brittle voice in his head, he smiled and rested his forehead against hers. “You know, those eggs sound mighty good.”

  “What about your family calling out the law to search for you?” she teased.

  He pressed a tiny kiss between her brows. “My family might as well get used to me being gone. ’Cause the two of us are just getting started.”

  Chapter Ten

  February arrived with a wallop. Only this morning, Isabelle had spotted a few bits of snow flying on the north wind. After living in Albuquerque for two and half years, she’d gotten used to the cold winters and the heavy snowfall. But that didn’t mean she liked it any more than Ollie and Sol did. Both men had shown up at feeding time dressed in heavy coveralls. Now, as Isabelle entered the cozy, warm interior of Conchita’s coffee shop, she was grateful to be out of the bitter wind.

  The clang of the cowbell over the door brought Emily-Ann up from behind the counter, where she’d been placing a tray of
fresh pastries in the glass case. The moment she spotted Isabelle, her face creased into a smile.

  “Well, I finally get a customer on this freezing morning and it happens to be one of my favorites,” she said. “Hello, Isabelle. What are you doing out in this weather?”

  Isabelle yanked off her mittens as she walked up to the glass counter. “A rancher’s work never takes a holiday, even during bad weather. I had to come to town for a load of feed.”

  “I thought you had two ranch hands to do all that stuff for you.”

  “I still have them,” Isabelle told her. “But I had a few more personal errands to run.”

  She pointed to a cake doughnut covered with white icing and chopped peanuts. “Give me one of those and a regular coffee with cream.”

  Emily-Ann looked surprised. “That’s all? No apple fritter, or maple long john?”

  Isabelle laughed. “Okay. Give me a cinnamon roll, too. The one with the raisins. That will be my attempt at a healthy diet today.”

  While Emily-Ann gathered her order, Isabelle walked over to one of the two small tables in the room and hung her puffy red coat on the back of one of the chairs.

  “Good thing you’re not busy,” Isabelle commented as she took a seat. “I’d hate to have to eat outside in this weather.”

  Emily-Ann carried the coffee and pastries over to Isabelle and sat down across from her.

  “I’m hoping this cold will blow out before Thursday. The Gold Rush Days celebration will be kicking off then.”

  Isabelle munched on the doughnut. “When I first drove into town, I noticed the banners crossing the street. Just what is this celebration?”

  Emily-Ann’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, it’s such fun. There’s a carnival, plus all kinds of street vendors and entertainment. And then, of course, there’s a big rodeo, too. This one will be the seventy-first annual celebration. It’s been going on for a long time.”

  “Exactly what is being celebrated?” Isabelle asked.

  Emily-Ann made a palms-up gesture. “I’m not much of a town historian, but it’s to celebrate how the ranchers and miners first got the town going. Which was back in 1863—even a few years before the big city of Phoenix came into existence.”