The Rancher--A snowbound Western romance

by Joanne Rock

  Another reason she planned to honor Zach’s memory. She counted him among the people who’d given her the creative and emotional boost she’d needed to find her professional passion.

  “Wise woman.” Miles nodded his agreement. “I guess you could say I’m here tonight because of my good friends, too. I do have family, but I don’t mind admitting I like my friends better.”

  His grin was unrepentant, giving his blue eyes a wicked light.

  “What about Weston?” She wondered what he thought of his younger brother, who held a stake in Mesa Falls with him.

  “We have our moments,” he told her cryptically, his lips compressing into a thin line as some dark thought raced across his expression.

  “Does owning the ranch together make you closer with him?”

  One eyebrow arched. “It does.”

  His clipped answer made her hesitate to probe further. But she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “If you’re close to the other Mesa Falls owners, why don’t you spend more time here? I know you said you run Rivera Ranch, but why build this huge, beautiful house if you didn’t ever plan on making time to be in Montana?”

  She wondered what kept him away. Yes, she was curious if it had anything to do with Zach. But she couldn’t deny she wanted to know more about Miles. With luck, that knowledge would help her keep her distance from this far-too-sexy man.

  He took so long to answer that she thought maybe he’d tell her it was none of her business. He watched the spillover from the hot tub where it splashed into the pool below, and she realized the sounds had faded from the other room; the billiard game had ended.

  “Maybe I was feeling more optimistic when we bought the land.” He met her gaze. “Like having this place would bring us together more. But for the most part, it’s just another asset we manage.”

  Puzzled why that would be, she drew in a breath to tease out the reason, but he surprised her into silence when his hand landed on her wrist.

  “Isn’t it my turn to ask you something?” Mild amusement glinted in his eyes again.

  Her belly tightened at his attention, his touch. There was a potent chemistry lurking between them, and she wanted to exercise extreme caution not to stir it any further. But it was incredibly tempting to see what would happen if she acted on those feelings. Too late, she realized that her pulse leaped right underneath the place where his hand rested. His thumb skated over the spot with what might pass for idleness to anyone observing them, but that slow caress felt deliberate to her.

  As if he wanted to assess the results of his touch.

  “What?” she prodded him, since the suspense of the moment was killing her.

  Or maybe it was the awareness. She was nearly brought to her knees by physical attraction.

  “I saw you dancing alone upstairs.” His voice took on that low, raspy quality that sent her thoughts to sexy places.

  She remembered exactly what she’d been thinking about when he’d caught her eye earlier. She would not lick her lips, even though they suddenly felt dry.

  “That’s not a question,” she managed, willing her pulse to slow down under the stroke of his thumb.

  “It made me wonder,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Would you like to dance with me instead?”

  The question, like his touch, seemed innocuous on the surface. But she knew he wasn’t just asking her to dance. She knew.

  That should have given her pause before she answered. But she gave him the only possible response.

  “I’d like that.” She pushed the words past the sudden lump in her throat. “Very much.”

  * * *

  Even before he’d asked her to be his dance partner, Miles knew the party upstairs had ended and that this would be a private dance.

  The Mesa Falls PR team excelled at keeping events on schedule, and the plan had been to move the late-night guests into the media room to distribute gift bags at midnight. His public hosting duties were officially done.

  His private guest was now his only concern.

  Which was a good thing, since he couldn’t have taken his eyes off her if he tried. He needed to figure out what she was up to, after all. What would it hurt to act on the attraction since he had to keep track of what she was doing anyway? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Wherever Chiara ended up on the spectrum, he’d have his bases covered.

  Helping her to her feet, he kept hold of her hand as he steered her toward the billiards room, now empty. Stopping there, he flipped on the speaker system tucked behind the bar, then dimmed the lights and pressed the switch for the gas fireplace at the opposite end of the room. Her green eyes took in the changes before her gaze returned to him.

  “Aren’t we going upstairs?” she asked while the opening refrain of a country love song filled the air.

  Miles shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and laid it over one of the chairs at the bar. If he was fortunate enough to get to feel her hands on him tonight, he didn’t want extraneous layers of clothes between them.

  “The DJ is done for the night.” He led her to the open floor near the pool table and pulled her closer to him, so they faced one another, still holding hands. He waited to take her into his arms until he was certain she wanted this. “I thought if we stayed down here we’d be out of the way of the catering staff while they clean up.”

  “I didn’t realize the party was over.” She didn’t seem deterred, however, because she laid her free hand on his shoulder, the soft weight of her touch stirring awareness that grew by the minute. He was glad he’d ditched his jacket, especially when her fingers flexed against the cotton of his shirt, her fingernails lightly scratching the fabric.

  “It’s just us now.” He couldn’t help the way his voice lowered, maybe because he wanted to whisper the words into her ear. But he still didn’t draw her to him. “Are you sure you want to stay?”

  “It’s too late to retract your offer, Miles Rivera.” She lifted their joined hands, positioning them. “I’ll have that dance, please.”

  Damn, but she fascinated him.

  With far more pleasure than a dance had ever inspired in him, he slid his free hand around Chiara’s waist. He took his time to savor the feel of her beneath his palm, the temperature of her skin making her dress’s lightweight metallic fabric surprisingly warm. Sketching a touch from her hip to her spine, he settled his hand in the small of her back where the skin was bare, then used his palm to draw her within an inch of him.

  Her pupils dilated until there was only a dark green ring around them.

  “That’s what I hoped you’d say.” He swayed with her to the mournful, longing sound of steel guitars, breathing in her bright, citrusy scent.

  Counting down the seconds until he kissed her.

  Because he had to taste her soon.

  Not just for the obvious reasons, like that she was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. But because Chiara had gotten to the heart of the loneliness he felt in this big Montana mansion every time he set foot in the state. With her questions and her perceptive gaze, she’d reminded him that Mesa Falls might be a testament to Zach Eldridge’s life, but it remained a hollow tribute without their dead friend among them.

  He’d hoped that ache would subside after they’d owned the property for a while. That Mesa Falls could somehow heal the emptiness, the pervasive sense of failure, that remained in him and his partners after they’d lost one of their own. But for Miles, who’d defined his whole life by trying to do the right thing, the consequences of not saving his friend were as jagged and painful as ever.

  “Is everything okay?” Chiara asked him, her hand leaving his shoulder to land on his cheek, her words as gentle as her expression.

  And damned if that didn’t hurt, too.

  He didn’t want her sympathy. Not when her kiss would feel so much better.

  With an effort, he sh
oved his demons off his back and refocused on this woman’s lush mouth. Her petal-soft fingertips skimming along his jaw. Her hips hovering close enough to his to tantalize him with what he wanted most.

  “Just wondering how long I can make this dance last without violating social conventions.” He let his gaze dip to her lips before meeting her gaze again.

  She hesitated, her fingers going still against his cheek. He could tell she didn’t buy it. Then her hand drifted from his face to his chest.

  “You’re worried what I’ll think about you?” she asked lightly, her forefinger circling below his collarbone.

  The touch was a barely there caress, but it told him she wasn’t in any hurry to leave. The knowledge made his heart slug harder.

  “A host has certain obligations to the people he invites under his roof.” He stopped swaying to the song and looked into her eyes.

  He kept one hand on the small of her back, the other still entwined with hers.

  “In that case—” Her voice was breathless, but her gaze was steady. Certain. “I think you’re obligated to make sure I don’t dance alone again tonight.”

  Three

  She needed his kiss.

  Craved it.

  Chiara watched Miles as he seemed to debate the merits of continuing what he’d started. He was a deliberate, thoughtful man. But she couldn’t wait much longer, not when she felt this edgy hunger unlike anything she’d felt before.

  She simply knew she wanted him. Even if what was happening between them probably shouldn’t.

  Maybe the impatience was because she’d had very little romantic experience. In her late teens, she’d mourned Zach and wrestled with the mix of anxiety and depression that had come with his death. Her lifestyle had shifted, too, after her father went bankrupt and she’d been forced to change schools. Giving up her dream of going to an art school had changed her, forging her into a woman of relentless ambition with no time for romance.

  Not that it had really mattered to her before, since she hadn’t been impressed with the few relationships she’d had in the past. The explosive chemistry other women raved about had been more of a simmer for her, making her feel like she’d only been going through the motions with guys. But tonight, dancing with Miles in this huge, empty house now that all the party guests had gone home, she felt something much different.

  Something had shifted between them this evening, taking them from cautiously circling enemies to charged magnets that couldn’t stay apart. At least, that’s how she felt. Like she was inexorably drawn to him.

  Especially with his broad palm splayed across her back, his thumb and forefinger resting on her bare skin through the cutout in the fabric of her gown, the other fingers straying onto the curve of her ass. A touch that made her very aware of his hands and how much she wanted them all over her without the barrier of clothes.

  Determined to overcome his scruples, or host obligations, or whatever it was that made him hesitate, Chiara lifted up on her toes. She was going to take this kiss, and whatever else he was offering, because she needed it. She’d worry about the repercussions in the morning. For now, she grazed her mouth over his. Gently. Experimentally.

  Hopefully.

  She breathed him in, a hint of smoky bourbon enticing her tongue to taste his lower lip.

  The contact sparked through her in unexpected ways, leaping from one pulse point to the next until something hot flamed to life. Something new and exciting. And as much as she wanted to explore that, she hesitated, worried about compounding her subterfuge with this man by adding seduction into the mix. Or maybe she just feared she didn’t have the necessary skills. Either way, she needed to be sure he wanted this, too.

  Just when she was about to pull back, his fingers tangled in her hair, anchoring her to him and deepening the kiss. And every cell in her body cried out a resounding yes.

  The heat erupted into a full-blown blaze as he took over. With one hand he drew her body against his, sealing them together, while he used the other to angle her face in a way that changed the trajectory of the kiss from sensual to fierce and hungry. She pressed her thighs together against the sudden ache there.

  From just a kiss.

  Her body thrilled to the new sensations even as her brain struggled to keep up with the onslaught. Her scalp tingled when he ran his fingers through her hair. Her nipples beaded, skin tightening everywhere. A soft, needy sound emanated from the back of her throat, and the noise seemed to spur him on. His arm banded her tighter, creating delicious friction between their bodies as he backed her into the pool table. She wanted to peel off her gown and climb all over him. She simply wanted.

  Her hands went to his shirt, ready to strip away the barriers between them, her fingers taking in the warm strength of all that delectable male muscle as she worked the fastenings. He lifted her up, seating her on the pool table as he stepped between her knees, never breaking the kiss. The long slit in her silver gown parted, making the fabric slide away as it ceased to cover her. The feel of him against her there, his hips pressing into the cradle of her thighs, made her forget everything else. Her fingers fell away from the shirt fastenings as she raked in a gasp, sensation rocking her.

  Miles edged back, his blue eyes now a deep, dark ultramarine as his gaze smoked over her, checking in with her.

  “I need to be sure you want to stay.” His breathing was harsh as he tipped his forehead to hers, his grip going slack so that his palms simply rested on her hips. “Tell me, Chiara.”

  She respected his restraint. His concern for her. Things had spiraled out of control in a hurry, but she didn’t want to stop now, no matter how it might complicate things down the road. She wanted to know real passion. What it was like to be carried away on that wave of hot, twitchy, need-it-now hunger.

  “I’ve never felt the way you’re making me feel tonight,” she confided in a low voice, her hands gripping the side rails of the table, her nails sinking into the felt nap. “But I’ve always wanted to. So yes, I’m staying. I have to see what I’ve been missing all the years I chose work over...fun.”

  His lips quirked at that last bit. He straightened enough to look into her eyes again. The flames from the fireplace cast his face half in shadow.

  “It’s going to be more than fun.” His thumbs rubbed lightly where they rested on her hips, the certainty in his tone assuring her he knew how to give her everything she craved.

  She resisted the urge to squeeze his hips between her thighs and lock her ankles so he couldn’t leave her. “Promise?”

  His fingers clenched reflexively, which made her think that she affected him as thoroughly as he was affecting her.

  “If you make me a promise in return.”

  “What is it?” She would have agreed to almost anything to put his hands in motion again. To experience another mind-drugging kiss with the power to set her on fire. How did he do that?

  “I get a date after this.” He pressed his finger to her lips when she’d been about to agree, silencing her for a moment while she battled the urge to lick him there. “One where you’ll tell me why you’ve chosen work over fun for far too long,” he continued, removing his finger from her mouth so she could speak.

  Her conscience stabbed her as Zach’s face floated through her mind. She had no idea how she’d appeal to Miles for information about Zach in the aftermath of this. He’d probably hate her when he found out why she’d come to Montana in the first place. He’d never look at her the same way again—with heat and hunger in his eyes. Was it so wrong to chase the feelings Miles stirred inside her?

  “Deal,” she told him simply, knowing he’d never follow through on the request once he understood what had brought her here in the first place. Her fingers returned to the studs in his shirt, wanting the barriers between them gone.

  He tipped her chin up to meet his gaze before he breathed his agreement over her lips. �
�Deal.”

  His kiss seemed to seal the pact, and her fingers forgot how to work. All her thoughts scattered until there was only his tongue stroking hers, teasing wicked sensations that echoed over her skin, dialing up the heat. She shifted closer to him, wanting to be near the source of that warmth. He answered by bracketing her hips and tugging her forward to the edge of the table, pressing her against the rigid length beneath his fly.

  She couldn’t stifle the needy sound she made at the feel of him, the proof of his hunger pleasing her almost as much as having him right where she wanted him. Almost, anyway. A shiver rippled through her while he tugged the straps of her gown off her shoulders.

  “I need to see you,” he said as he broke the kiss, watching the metallic silver gown slide down her body.

  The material teased her sensitive nipples as it fell, since she hadn’t bothered to wear a bra. Miles’s eyes locked on her body, and the peaks tightened almost painfully, her breath coming faster.

  “And I need to feel you.” She might not have a ton of romance experience, but she believed in voicing her needs. And damn it, she knew what she wanted. “Your hands, your body, your mouth. You pick.”

  His blue eyes were full of heat as they lifted to hers again. “Let’s find a bed. Now.”

  He plucked her off the table and set her on her feet while she clutched enough of her gown to keep it from falling off. Holding her hand, Miles tugged her through the bar area and past an office to a bedroom with high wooden ceilings and lots of windows. She guessed it wasn’t the master suite in a home like this, given its modest size and single closet, yet she glimpsed a pair of boots near the door and toiletries on the granite vanity of the attached bath.

  Miles closed the door behind her, toed off his shoes, then made quick work of his shirt, tossing it on a built-in window seat.

  She was about to ask why he was staying in a guest bedroom of his own home when he came toward her. The words dried up on her tongue at the sight of his purposeful stride.