Wrangling the Redhead Read online

  Lauren shot a discouraging look at Emma, then told Wade, “Emma had a bad encounter with the Denver press.” Perhaps she could shift all of the focus to Emma and away from her own experiences.

  “Aren’t you Ford Hamilton’s wife now?” Wade asked Emma. “You must have gotten over it, if you decided to marry the editor of the local paper.”

  “I trust my husband,” Emma agreed. “But not the media in general.”

  He nodded. “Fair enough. But what does any of that have to do with Lauren?”

  “It’s not important,” Lauren said hurriedly. “Did you need me for something?”

  He stared at her blankly for a minute, then nodded. “Oh, yeah, I was going to let you know that I’m leaving now. I’ll be gone most of the day. Remember what we talked about.”

  “My memory’s not that short,” she said testily. “I don’t need to be reminded that you don’t trust my judgment.”

  “Lauren—”

  “I know, I know. I won’t do anything stupid.”

  He gave a curt nod of satisfaction. “That’s good. I’ll hear about it if you do.”

  “Who’s going to tell? Midnight? Is the horse conversing with you now?”

  “Dammit, Lauren, this isn’t a game,” he said with evident frustration. “He’s still dangerous.”

  No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Lauren heard Caitlyn calling out to an approaching horse. She turned just in time to see Midnight dancing closer to the child, who had climbed atop the split-rail fence. Midnight was probably braving the encounter with the hope of getting one of the treats Lauren had been bringing him on a daily basis.

  Wade spotted the potential for tragedy at precisely the same moment. Before Lauren could even begin to gather her wits, he was across the ground scooping Caitlyn into his arms and out of the horse’s reach. Caitlyn was scowling at her abrupt removal.

  “Why’d you do that?” she demanded, regarding Wade with a disapproving pout. She was completely oblivious to the danger she’d been in.

  Wade grinned at her to take the sting out of his action. “Because Midnight’s scared of pretty little girls.”

  The pout faded and Caitlyn’s eyes widened with interest. “That great big horse is scared of me?”

  “Yes, indeed,” Wade confirmed.

  Caitlyn still looked doubtful. “He didn’t look scared.”

  Emma turned to Lauren, a question in her eyes.

  “The problem horse I’ve been working with,” Lauren mouthed quietly.

  The color drained out of Emma’s face. She gathered Caitlyn out of Wade’s arms and hugged her so hard the child protested.

  “Mommy, stop!”

  “Sorry, baby, for a minute there you had me scared, too,” Emma said, then lifted her gaze to Wade. “Thank you.”

  He shrugged. “Not a problem. It probably would have been fine, but it’s better to be safe than sorry,” he said, with a pointed look at Lauren.

  “I’ll use my head,” she promised. “Now go. Grady needs your help this morning. He’s probably chomping at the bit to get started.”

  Wade nodded, and after one more long look, he turned on his heel, mounted his horse and rode off.

  “My, my,” Emma murmured when he’d gone. “I see what Cassie was talking about. The sparks between you two are better than the Fourth of July fireworks.”

  Caitlyn picked up on her mother’s remark and regarded Lauren seriously. “Is he your boyfriend, Aunt Lauren?”

  “Absolutely not,” Lauren said heatedly.

  But the idea was beginning to hold more appeal than she cared to admit. And seeing Wade with Caitlyn cradled protectively against his chest had certainly helped to enhance that appeal.

  Wade still got nauseous when he thought of what could have happened to Caitlyn if Midnight had gotten fractious when she was within inches of his hooves earlier. He couldn’t seem to shake that image.

  Nor was he able to shake the probability that Lauren would deliberately defy him today, despite her promise. He didn’t trust that promise any more than he’d ever trusted his mother’s promise that one day his rich daddy was going to come for them. The bad feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn’t going to go away until he got back to the ranch and found Lauren in one piece.

  “What’s on your mind?” Grady asked, riding up alongside him as they slowly made their way home after the long, hard day. “Or should I ask who?”

  “Look, you’re the one who made Lauren’s safety my concern,” Wade grumbled. “Is it any wonder I keep thinking about all the mischief she could have gotten into while we were gone today?”

  “Didn’t she agree that she wouldn’t try anything dangerous?” Grady asked reasonably.

  “Yes, but her definition of dangerous and mine would probably differ significantly.”

  “She won’t go back on her word,” Grady insisted.

  “If you say so,” Wade said, unable to hide his skepticism.

  “You don’t trust easily, do you?”

  “Never had any reason to,” Wade said. “Too damn few of the people in my life ever kept their word.”

  “I’m sorry,” Grady told him with genuine sympathy. “That must have been a helluva way to grow up.”

  Wade shrugged. “It’s a lesson every man needs to learn sooner or later. I just caught on sooner than most.”

  “You’re wrong about that,” Grady insisted. “Most people are honest and caring and trustworthy, if you give ’em half a chance.”

  “You can afford to say that with people like your grandfather and Karen in your life.” Wade knew that Grady’s grandfather, Thomas Blackhawk, was an honorable man. He’d heard a lot of stories about him since coming to the ranch, though he had yet to meet the sage Native American. As for Karen, she’d treated Wade with nothing but kindness and respect. He could believe she was an exception to his rule, too.

  “Lauren’s one of Karen’s best friends,” Grady pointed out. “Do you honestly think they’d be close if Lauren weren’t cut from the same cloth? That whole gang of them—they call themselves the Calamity Janes—are loyal to a fault. Keep that in mind in case you’re ever tempted to do anything that might hurt Lauren.”

  Wade sighed at the warning. He wasn’t going to win this argument about trustworthiness. In fact, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to. A part of him prayed that Grady was right about Lauren, but it was way too soon for him to put any faith in her yet. Her behavior while he’d been gone today might be a start toward convincing him, though.

  “Keep an open mind,” Grady urged as they rode toward the house. “That’s all I’m saying.”

  Wade nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

  But when he walked into the barn, he found it disconcerting to see Lauren wearing dirt-streaked jeans, dusty boots and a blouse that looked as if she’d been wrestling a hog. She hadn’t gotten into that state by sitting on her pretty little derriere in the ranch office all day long or sipping lemonade on the porch. So much for honor and trust, he thought.

  “Tough day?” he inquired mildly, leaning against the doorjamb and studying her intently to see if there was any evidence of scrapes or bruises to go along with the general disarray.

  Her gaze shot up to clash with his, and her expression turned defiant. “Quite productive, actually.”

  “Oh?”

  “I had a little test of wills with a certain horse.”

  Wade’s temper soared. Absolute panic lodged in his throat, even though he could see perfectly well that whatever she’d done, she was still in one piece. If she had any injuries, they weren’t obvious.

  He shoved away from the door and began to pace. “Dammit, Lauren, I warned you to stay the hell away from Midnight. Whatever possessed you to defy me the second my back was turned, especially after you’d promised to do as I asked?” He glared at her. “Typical female. You just had to have your own way, didn’t you? Answer me this. Is Midnight all right?”

  She returned his gaze evenly, though the color in her cheeks
was high. “Midnight is just fine, you idiot. And I did not defy you. It was Miss Molly who objected to joining me for a little ride around the corral.”

  Wade stopped in his tracks. “Miss Molly did this? She threw you?”

  “Five times,” Lauren confirmed.

  He muttered a soft curse. “You don’t catch on quick, do you?”

  “I was going to give her ten chances, but she came through for me on the sixth try,” Lauren said, her expression tired but triumphant. “We reached an agreement. One trip around the corral and she got carrots for dessert tonight.”

  Wade strode over so that he could examine her more closely. Except for the dishevelment, she looked just fine. “You’re really okay?”

  “My butt may not be the same for a while, but other than that, I’m fine.”

  He shoved a hand through his hair. “I didn’t expect you to get this far with her this fast.”

  “Well, she seemed docile enough when I led her out of her stall. I thought the ride would go fine.” She shrugged. “I was wrong.”

  “How is she now?”

  Her expression fell then. “I wish I could tell you that this had solved everything, but it didn’t. She went straight into her stall, ignored her feed and turned her back on me. Reminds me of a kid trying to make a point after being forced to eat his spinach. At least she got some exercise today. Maybe tomorrow will be better.”

  Wade was torn between his desire to check on his horse and his longing to touch the woman standing in front of him. Once all of the anger and panic had drained away, he’d been left with this insatiable need to hold her. Because that was a really bad idea, he backed away and went to see Miss Molly.

  The horse was standing quietly in her stall, looking as dejected as ever. Her ears twitched when he approached, but she made no move to come to him.

  “So, I hear you had yourself quite a time today, girl,” he said, reaching over the gate and rubbing a hand along her neck. She shuddered at the touch and gazed at him with those liquid brown eyes that had seemed so sad the last few weeks. “You know Lauren’s just trying to help you. It’s not very polite to toss her on her butt over and over again.”

  He dug a handful of carrot chunks out of his pocket and held one out. Miss Molly nuzzled his palm, then took it. Once she’d daintily chewed that piece, she nudged him for more. He gave her a couple, then put the rest back in his pocket.

  “Okay, beggar, that’s enough. I know Lauren’s been sneaking carrots to you, too. She said that’s how she paid you off for your cooperation today. Next time, though, she might not be so generous.”

  Miss Molly whinnied, then pulled her head back into the stall and turned away from him. Clearly, without the bribe of carrots, she wanted no part of him.

  Thoroughly frustrated by the horse’s lackluster attitude, Wade stepped back, muttering another heartfelt curse.

  “Strong words just because you didn’t get your way,” Lauren noted calmly.

  “It’s not about getting my way,” he protested. “It’s about seeing a terrific animal losing her spirit like this. It’s like something sucked all the life out of her.” When Lauren seemed about to say something, he frowned. “Don’t start on that homesick nonsense again.”

  “Is it really such a crazy idea?” she asked. “Horses have emotions, too. They get attached to people and other horses. Think about it. Was there anyone at the old ranch who spent a lot of time with her? Did she have a stablemate that was always turned out to pasture with her?”

  “No,” Wade retorted, unable to conceal his impatience. “Maybe I should get the vet out here again.”

  “That’s up to you,” Lauren said with a shrug. “But I think you’re wasting your money.”

  Wade wasn’t going to stand here and discuss her ridiculous idea another minute, not when he couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from the streak of dirt on her pale cheek or the strands of straw stuck in her hair.

  “Come here,” he murmured.

  She blinked and stared. “Why?”

  He grinned and hoisted himself onto the gate of an empty stall. “I’m not going to bite. Come over here.”

  She took a cautious step closer, and then another. “What is it?”

  Grinning now, Wade beckoned her closer. Once she was standing right in front of him, he tugged a clean handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped the smudge from her cheek. He noted with satisfaction that her amazing eyes went wide at the gesture. Cupping her chin in his hand, he reached for the straw, then brushed the wayward curls away from her face. He felt her tremble when his knuckles grazed her soft skin.

  “That’s better,” he said when he was done. She started to back away, but he placed his hands on her shoulders and kept her right smack between his splayed thighs. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Okay?” she whispered, her expression dazed.

  “All those spills didn’t bruise you, did they?”

  “Oh,” she murmured, then gave him a rueful grin. “I am a little sore, but I haven’t checked out the part I landed on in a mirror yet.”

  He managed a perfectly serious expression. “I could check it for you,” he offered with what he hoped was just the right touch of magnanimity.

  She laughed then. “You wish.”

  He returned her gaze solemnly. “Yeah, I do.”

  She seemed totally taken aback by his honesty. “What are you saying, Wade?”

  He swallowed hard and forced himself to say it. “I want you. God knows I don’t want to, but I do.”

  The reply made her frown. “If it makes you this uncomfortable, maybe you should keep fighting the urge.”

  “Probably should,” he agreed, allowing his thumbs to begin a slow massage of the petal-soft skin along her collarbone. He caught the pulse jumping at his touch, the quick rise of heat in her cheeks. “But then I ask myself why we should deny ourselves something that promises to be so incredible.”

  He dared a bolder caress, a skimming touch that traced the curve of her breast, flicking across the peak in a way that left it pebble-hard against her blouse. He heard the hitch of her breath, caught the unmistakable flare of desire in her eyes. His own body was rock-hard with anticipation, the bulge in his jeans unmistakable. He watched her eyes go even darker when she caught sight of it.

  “Wade?”

  He wasn’t entirely certain if it was a question or a plea. He smoothed her hair back, then rubbed his thumb across her lower lip. His own pulse began to pound when she stunned him by drawing his thumb into her mouth and sucking on it.

  The game had started out of a sense of yearning he didn’t quite know how to handle. Now it had turned serious, and while he knew the rules of this particular game, knew the moves that brought pleasure and the dangerous pitfalls of playing, he couldn’t predict which of them would win. Maybe both of them would. Maybe it didn’t even matter. Maybe, for now, it was just about the game itself.

  He drew her closer, tighter, until she was pressed against the heat of his arousal. For an instant that was enough. But then an agony of wanting tore through him, even as she reached up and dragged his head down until his mouth met hers in a crushing kiss.

  From the moment they’d met, from the first fiery exchange of words, he’d known that Lauren was a passionate woman, but he hadn’t expected both of them to go up in flames so fast, so furiously. She was tugging frantically at his shirt, at the buckle on his belt, skimming nails over bare skin. He peeled off her blouse and bra in a single move that sent buttons flying and left the clothes in a tangled heap somewhere in the barn.

  They were committed to the game now, no question about that. Her soft little moans were enough to heat a statue and bring it to life. Her caresses were brazen, catching him off guard and stealing his breath and any last lingering shred of sanity.

  He slid down from his perch on the stall door, scooped her up and carried her inside to the bed of clean straw. He stripped off his shirt and laid it down, then slowly lowered her. She never hesitated at t
he makeshift bed, earning his respect and his undying gratitude. He wasn’t sure he could have made it all the way to his house without exploding with this neediness she stirred in him. Thank heaven for the condom tucked in his wallet. Hopefully it hadn’t dry-rotted from old age.

  Lauren was already wriggling out of her jeans, no easy task since they got hung up on her boots. Wade refrained from chuckling at the ungraceful effort.

  “Hey,” he said, drawing her attention. “What say we slow this down?”

  “No,” she said tersely, tugging impatiently at a boot.

  Something in her voice set off an alarm. The urgency of desire was one thing. Panic was quite another.

  “Lauren, what’s the hurry?”

  She did hesitate then. The confusion in her eyes came close to breaking his heart, to say nothing of its effect on his libido.

  “You afraid of changing your mind?” he asked.

  She closed her eyes and went limp, then sighed and looked straight into his eyes. “Maybe.”

  “Then we don’t do this,” he said, managing a calm note despite the protest raging through his blood. “It’s as simple as that.”

  “But I want you,” she insisted.

  “I know. That’s plain enough,” he said, caressing her cheek. “Just not as much as I want you. I can wait.”

  She moaned and fell back against the straw. “I’m going to be up all night because you’re being so damn noble,” she muttered.

  He grinned at the evident frustration in her voice. “Join the club. How about we do dinner instead? Maybe a nice bottle of wine or a couple of beers will settle us both down.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “Who’s cooking?”

  “I will.”

  “You cook?”

  “I can, if you’re not too particular about what you eat. How does a western omelette sound?”

  “Heavenly,” she said at once.

  He lifted himself up and went in search of her blouse and bra before he could act on the wicked ideas still raging through him. “Sorry about the blouse,” he said when he handed it to her. “I’ll buy you a replacement.”

  “You will,” she agreed, then grinned. “Something with snaps.”