A Cowboy for Christmas (6 page)

“The New Frontiersman.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s a startup. I’m trying to get off the ground.”

“Ah.” She smiled at the young man, appreciating his drive. Just then she spotted the familiar knot of fans coming through the crowd, and she knew Dusty would be at the center. Inspiration struck, and she rested a hand on the reporter’s arm. “How would you like to interview Dusty Waite?”

His face lit. “That would be great! When? I’ll be here anytime you want.”

“How about right now?” The crowd broke and Dusty walked out like a rock star onstage. In a flash his gaze darted to her hand, still resting on the reporter’s arm.

She dropped it, a thrill sizzling through her at the mere sight of Dusty. A stupid grin spread over her face, and she quickly staunched it. She could do this—be professional. Her family’s company depended on it. If she scandalized her father by sleeping with their star, she wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes.

“Avalee.” Dusty’s drawl seemed more pronounced as he drank in her hair, eyes, lips, lingered on her breasts and traveled slowly to her boots. Then back up.

“Hi, Dusty. Are you ready for our shoot?”

“Yeah. Who’s this?” He shot a sideways glance at the reporter.

“He’s…” She pivoted to the guy. She didn’t actually know his name but couldn’t formulate words to ask as Dusty brushed against her. Slowly. His thigh solid steel against hers.

“Ross Camden. So nice to meet you, Mr. Waite.”

“I wish people’d stop calling me that. Just Dusty please.” They shook, and she noted the reporter’s wince as Dusty crushed his hand in his tough grip.

She touched Dusty’s sleeve. When he fixed his gaze on her, her mental faculties fled. “Ross is with The New Frontiersman. He’d love to ask you a few questions.”

“Sure.” Dusty didn’t sound a bit happy, but he probably did a lot of PR he didn’t feel like doing. Besides, if she got Ross a good story, maybe he’d go away.

“Ryan’s all set up for the photoshoot. We just need you back here. Maybe Ross can ask some questions between poses? I know you’re very busy, Dusty.”

From beneath the brim of his hat, he eyed her. No—glared at her. She felt her brow wrinkle. Either he’d gotten up on the wrong side of the saddle or he was irritated with her. Maybe because she’d chickened out and had Ryan contact him with the time of the shoot. That was a crappy move on her part, but this was precisely why she couldn’t get involved with him again. Business came first.

At the back of her booth, the bench was waiting with the horse blanket and a grouping of bars and energy drinks. Dusty stirred her carefully arranged display with a big hand.

“All the Coldspring Canyon bars are there.” She gestured toward the wooden crates on display.

His lips quirked up at one corner but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Damn, he was going to be difficult. They couldn’t have good marketing photos with a dead-eyed cowboy.

“Uh, Ross? Would you mind going to find me a drink?”

Dusty’s glare enveloped the reporter now.

Eager as always, Ross strode up to her. “Sure, Avalee. What would you like?”

“You choose. Here.” She dug a few bills from her pocket. “Get something for yourself too. And Dusty?”

“I don’t need anything,” he growled.

Ross nodded and disappeared into the milling crowd. She faced Dusty. “What’s the matter with you?”

“With me?”

“Yeah, you’re acting like a grumpy bear.”

His gaze held her in place and did very bad things to her girl parts. She fought her rising desire to rub against him. “Maybe because you’ve been avoiding me, Avalee.”

Crap. It was that obvious. “I’ve just been busy here. Getting everything in place and opening day is—”

He locked his fingers around her wrist and reeled her closer. She dug in her heels, determined not to fall into his arms because that would lead to kissing then skip to third base and pretty soon she’d have her ankles around his ears while screaming his name. She shivered at his warm touch and the whirlwind of images in her mind.

“I don’t like being ignored.” His tone was unshakable—an oak tree in strong winds. And his stare doubled the message. “As soon as this shoot is over, you’re mine, Avalee.”

Oh God, yes.
She started melting into a puddle and would have been a boneless heap on the floor if Ross hadn’t returned with two steaming paper cups of hot chocolate complete with whipped cream, chocolate drizzle and candy canes sticking out at festive angles.

Dusty groaned as she accepted her hot chocolate. Ryan arrived with his camera at the ready, and she set aside her cup.

“Where do you want me first?” Dusty never removed his gaze from her.

“Umm, we need you in one of these.” She picked up a black T-shirt with the Rawhide logo. “The nearest restroom is…”

“No need.” He untucked his shirt from his waistband and whipped it overhead, exposing tanned, chiseled lines of his torso. A dark knot of need tightened, pulling her nipples taut even as it tugged on her pussy.

He perched his hat at an angle, low over his eyes. “That’s perfect,” she blurted. There it was—the twitch of his lips just at one corner. “Come sit. Ryan, is the lighting right?”

He peered through his lens. “Perfect.”

“Good. Why don’t we take a few just like this and then we’ll have you eating the product, Dusty?”

He lifted a brow at her like a little boy being forced to eat his broccoli. She almost laughed out loud but swallowed it on a hiccup.

Dusty shot the camera a toe-curling, bad-boy smile. She could almost see the catch-phrase on the glossy magazine page.
Rawhide keeps me going.

She twined her hands in excitement. Ross was busy scribbling on his notepad. Dusty changed angles and hitched one ankle over his knee. The pose was so masculine, so damn sexy that she couldn’t hold back a soft moan.

His gaze latched on her. Had he heard? She had to hurry him through this shoot so she could stop thinking about him so much. After today, they’d have little contact until the next marketing phase.

Five more poses and she was a quivering mess of desire. She wanted to be the bench he draped himself over. She wanted to be the power bar between his white teeth. She wanted him to be smiling at her instead of the lens.

To distract herself she stood back, dunking her candy cane in her hot chocolate to let it melt. She took a sip and whipped cream coated her upper lip. Dusty glanced up at that instant, and Ryan shot his photo. A photo of that burning look she’d seen every time Dusty had looked at her that forbidden night—and every night since in her dreams.

She swiped the whipped cream away with her tongue and he tracked her movement. Liquid heat pooled low in her belly.

“Dusty, why don’t we break for a few? Ross, your turn.”

Dusty twisted his mouth, working the corner as if he was gnawing it from the inside. Ross started firing questions. Avalee looked at the images Ryan had so far while keeping her ear on the interview. Dusty talked about his brother’s and father’s wins and the pressure of earning his own title. She heard the strain in his voice and when she studied him, she noted lines around his firm lips.

Another reason not to get involved—he had a lot riding on this win. She’d made the right decision in not going to the arena the previous night. The last thing he needed was to be as distracted as she’d been feeling since the night he’d rocked her world.

She finished half her hot chocolate by the time Ryan was ready again. She unwrapped another bar and handed it to Dusty. A total professional, he bit it off cleanly as Ryan snapped a photo. Another bite. Another. God did he always chew with such sensual slowness?

She made a shifting movement, and Dusty locked her in his gaze. A crooked smile combined with another bite of the Tin Cup Tack bar and she was feeling a little breathless. Ryan said something she missed, but Dusty burst out laughing.

Her senses rioted and heat climbed her body. She felt her cheeks warm as well as many other places much lower.

“Dusty, can I get some dirt about your relationships?” Ross tossed at him.

Dusty’s very dark, very intense stare slid to her. For a heartbeat, they might be living in their own private bubble.

“I’m trying to get someone special to commit to seeing more of me.”

“She must be crazy to refuse the next world champion bronc rider.”

Dusty’s stare was heavy, inescapable. “Actually, she refused to see me yesterday.”

Oh lawd.

Ross gave a nervous laugh at the intensity in Dusty’s voice. Suddenly Dusty stood. “You got all you need, Ryan?”

Ryan was looking through his photos. “Yeah, these are great. We’ve got enough.”

“Good. Ross, buddy, it was nice chatting with you, but we’re done.”

The reporter blinked but quickly recovered. “Great. Thanks again, Dusty.” He thrust out his hand to shake, and Dusty pumped it once. Avalee took a step back. Surely there was some work to be done here that would keep her too busy to speak with the gorgeous hunk of man. Her assistant was out front, hand-selling product in her chirpy voice. Maybe she needed help.

“Don’t even think about escaping, Avalee.” Strong fingers closed around her arm and she was walked out of the booth. This time when people flocked him, Dusty didn’t pause for photo ops or to sign autographs. He waved people away.

“That’s rude.”

“No, it’s determination. I’m getting you alone, sugar.” The hard planes of his face might have been chiseled from granite. He was unmoving on this. She racked her brain for another way out.

“I can hear you thinking again. Don’t even try to get away from me. We’re having a sit-down.”

“A sit-down?”

“Yeah.” He dragged her through a door, slammed it and locked it.

She blinked at her surroundings. “This is someone’s office!”

“Yeah, and look-it that. It happens to have a comfy chair and a desk to bend you over. Now c’mere. It’s time for that sit-down.”

* * * * *

Dusty sank to the leather office chair and patted his knee. Avalee stood rigid, hands fisted at her sides. She caught her plump lip between her teeth, and he bit back a groan of want.

He tapped his knee again.

She shook her head and backed against the door, reaching for the handle and lock.

“Sugar, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

“What’s the easy way?” Her eyes darted nervously.

“You sit on my knee and tell me why you’re avoiding me like a day-old fish sandwich.”

Her beautiful features shivered. In this light, the group of freckles on her nose stood out. Or maybe she’d paled beneath them.

“And the hard way?”

“I turn you over my knee and alternately spank your round ass and finger your pussy until you give in.”

A visible shiver shook her. Satisfaction spread through him. So she wasn’t as immune to him as she wanted him to believe.

“I’ve got to get back out there. I have a business to run. Goods to sell.”

“Your people have it under control.”

“Dusty—” Desperation made her voice crack.

“Avalee.” He stared into her eyes. All he’d been thinking of for two days was her sweet body tight against his. He wanted more playful banter. He wanted to hear more about those god-awful fish oil and whey bars—anything to hear her voice.

When she didn’t move, he took another route. He wasn’t going to be deterred. He stood and started stalking toward her. She crowded against the door as if trying to become part of the steel. She reached for the lock again, and he pounced.

Capturing her hands, he raised them overhead and pinned them. Then he leaned in, letting his lips hover a scant breath from hers. She quivered. Good. Real good. He wanted her shaking uncontrollably as he gave her an eleventh orgasm. Then a twelfth. Hell, he wanted her coming for him all night…all week.

“Who’s this Ross guy anyway?”

Her eyes flared with surprise. “A reporter.”

“I know that.” He nipped her earlobe, and she sucked in a harsh breath. Her pulse was racing in her throat. “But who is he…”
nip, lick,
“to you?”

“Uhhh.”

“Are you playing me?”

“No,” she said raggedly as he sucked on her neck over her uneven pulse.

“So you aren’t with a new man every night?”

“No!”

“You want me, Avalee. Don’t deny it.”

“Dusty, we can’t do this. Rawhide—”

“The only raw hide that’s going to come between us is yours when I spank your ass for evading me.” To prove his point he ground his cock into her pussy. She cried out, a shuddering sound of pure pleasure.

“We’ve got more than a week here in Vegas, and I want to spend it with you.”

“Dusty, I can’t.”

He pulled back to look into her eyes, cloudy with desire. “I know just what you need, sugar.”

“Wh-what’s that?”

He took her mouth in a long, deep kiss. By the time he was through with her, she sagged in his hold. “You need a day in bed being shown exactly what feeling good means.” He caught her around the middle, jerked the door open and rushed her out. Through the crowd, past the booth of handmade wooden stick horses where little kids galloped and squealed.