Destiny Wears Spurs (7 page)

She felt so good in his arms.

“Whatever you say.”

He nodded and then set out at a quick pace. Rounding the top of the hill, Cody stepped behind a pine tree to scope out the dude ranch. No one in sight. Relief bubbled through his muscles, releasing the tension in the back of his neck like a cork popping out of a fizzing bottle of champagne.

Why’d she have to go and wear that damn nightgown again? It already haunted his dreams from the first time he’d seen it. Now that he’d seen it dripping wet and undeniably transparent, he didn’t plan on getting a good night’s sleep anytime soon.

“Why are we stopping?” she mumbled into his shirt.

“Everything’s fine. Almost there,” he replied. His constant woody made it difficult to walk. Gripping the cabin doorknob, he gave it a swift twist and shoved the door open. He slipped inside and kicked it closed with his boot heel.

Cody placed Monica on the big bed and lifted her nightgown to examine her thigh. His probing fingers confirmed nothing was broken, but the tender-looking skin had turned various shades of black and purple. He slipped some liniment from his pocket and rubbed it in, stepping back the second he finished.

“You’re not leaving, are you? What about the rest of me? My butt is so twisted up in knots I can’t stand it.” She pinned him with an accusing stare. “Let me remind you, it’s not entirely my fault.”

“I, ah, I could call Cassie, if you want.” He cleared his sandpapery throat. Glancing at Monica’s hand, he shoved his own deep into his pocket. If he had to touch her again, he’d inevitably do something he had no damn business doing.

Hell. He remembered why the dude ranch had looked deserted. “I can’t call Cassie. I forgot she’s taking the dudes on a sightseeing excursion today.” He scuffed the carpet with his boot, trying to think of something else.

“Well, you have to do something. What about the stuff you rubbed on my leg? Won’t that work?”

“You mean ....” He glanced at her body, clearly outlined beneath the nightgown, and swallowed hard. “You want me to massage your ... your ....”

“Look, I don’t care what you massage, just massage something. I’m dying here.”

“You asked for it.” Some of the things this little lady said shocked the hell right out of him. He was beginning to think she was purposely trying to drive him crazy. “We need to get you out of this wet nightgown and warm those muscles up.”

He rolled his head back and closed his eyes on a heavy sigh. She had no idea what she did to him. He looked at her. “Can we get on with it? I still have loads of work to do, remember?”

Her eyes shot fire at him. If smoke steamed out her nose, he wouldn’t be a bit surprised. “If it’s too much trouble, never mind.”

He stared her down and then blew out a hefty breath. “It’s not too much trouble. Let’s just get on with it, okay?”

“Okay.” She seemed to wilt with relief. “Oh, no. I forgot about Buggy. Please make sure someone takes care of him. Poor thing. He must be starving.”

“You have some strange thoughts ‘pop’ into that mind of yours.” He tried to stop his lips from twitching. “Don’t worry about, er, Buggy. Making sure my livestock are well fed is my job. Now, I’m gonna roll you over.”

She blinked.

“I don’t bite.”

“You don’t?” She sounded ... disappointed? Jesus, did she actually want him to? If she didn’t stop looking at him that way, he just might.

“Miss Hammond?”

“Lay your hands on me and squeeze away, Mr. Rafferty.”

He ran a palm over his face, shook his head, and then rolled her onto her stomach so she’d stop looking at him. She stiffened, relaxing as her body settled. Gripping the hem of her nightgown, he slid it up the length of her slender legs until he reached the firm little package he’d admired many times. But he’d never imagined he’d be squeezing, kneading and shaping those sloping curves, covered with the skimpiest pair of ivory-lace, string-bikini underpants he’d ever seen.

His breathing quickened and his pulse began to thunder like stampeding cattle, until little beads of sweat popped out on his forehead. He shook off his train of thought and whisked her nightgown over slightly flared hips, a narrow waist, a delicate ribcage, a long, smooth back, and sexy tousled hair.

Her skin looked silky. Not like some perfectly toned model but real and feminine. So damned feminine. He reached out his shaking hand and caught himself before trailing his fingertips down her spine. God, she was beautiful.

Making a fist, he clamped his teeth shut until he felt the muscles in his jaw throb and the veins in his neck bulge. He regained some semblance of control, tossed her nightgown onto the back of the dresser chair, and then steeled himself for what he had to do next. Slowly, he straddled her back, careful not to put his full weight on her legs.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she squeaked, calming considerably as he soothed the back of her neck with his palms.

“Shhh. Relax, Miss Hammond. It’s more effective in this position. Trust me.” He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince as he started at the top of her head and painstakingly massaged his way down to her adorable toes.

Would she feel the same with another man’s hands on her body? He hoped not. Where the hell had that thought come from? He knew exactly where. Monica was the first woman to get under his skin since his ex-wife.

Not
a good sign.

* * *

Cody couldn’t speak through the rest of the massage, and Monica just kept moaning. He had all he could do to contain his rampaging desire. Hell, he’d explode if he had to touch her much longer. Rushing through the last of her toes, he tucked the sheet around her, rolled her over, and then took a big step back from the bed.

She looked like she’d been made love to for hours. Flushed cheeks. Wild hair. Limp as a wet noodle. She sent him a lazy smile with half-lidded, speckled-brown eyes.

He frowned. The last time he’d let a pretty face draw him in, he’d wound up married, cheated on, and divorced. A hell of a price to pay for being someone’s pastime until they grew bored. No way would he get involved with another “temporary” woman who didn’t even live here.

He straightened his shoulders. “I expect to see you first thing in the morning. Don’t be late. I wanna judge for myself whether you’re fit to work or not. No argument.”

Her lips parted, but then she snapped her jaw closed and put on what he now recognized as her game face. “I appreciate you giving me another chance.”

“Yeah, well, everyone deserves a second chance.” A hint of humor tinged his voice. “Stay out of the manure pile, and we’ll get along just fine.”

“No argument here.” She grinned and then grew serious. “As difficult as it is to admit, you were right about me not being fit to work on a cattle ranch.”

“I never said that.” He averted his eyes.

“You didn’t have to. I could tell it’s what you thought the first time we met. I’d like to blame the Colorado air--not nearly enough oxygen around here--but I can’t. I’m so out of shape. Have you ever seen anyone so pathetic?”

“But you look so ... I mean, your body’s so ... and look at your ... and then there’s your ....” She devoured his body with her eyes, and his pulse picked up speed, then she waved her hands in the air. “Well, you’re just so darn big, that’s all.”

He chuckled. “Everyone who rides a horse the first time experiences some degree of soreness, and I gave you one heck of a ride, little lady.”

She flushed pink.

“Believe me; you’re not out of shape. Anyone with a brain knows better than to go off half-cocked, doing chores she has no business doing in that condition. Not to mention trying to ride a horse when she doesn’t even know which end is up.”

He yanked the covers up to her chin. “I’ll get the goddamn pills. You keep your fanny in bed.” He marched to the bathroom. When he returned, she looked away. “Your medicine and water are on the nightstand. Get some rest.”

He swore as he strode out of her cabin and slammed the door. Storming down the hill in record time, he muttered every curse he’d ever heard. Crazy woman had no right being mad at him for yelling at her, she was the one trying to drive him insane with desire.

His wife had been just like Monica. Sweet. Funny. Spunky. She’d been one of Cassie’s dudettes, and he’d fallen for her instantly. A real class act, all dainty and feminine, but he’d soon discovered she wasn’t at all suited to ranch life. She had to have everything her way, and never did anything on the ranch except flirt with his men.

Cody would never forgive himself for being duped, and he sure as hell wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. If being a little harsh would keep him from falling for Monica, then that’s exactly what he’d do.

By the time he reached the barn, he’d cooled off somewhat. The men would return soon. It’d take a miracle to finish cleaning up the mess she’d made and feed Buggy. “Hell, she’s even roped me into calling the calf that ridiculous name.” He grunted in exasperation. This was going to be one long summer. Luckily, conquering impossible tasks was his specialty.

* * *

A couple hours later, Cody sluiced water over his face and bare chest, stepping back from the wash-stall. He ran a towel through his wet hair, then slung it around his neck and adjusted his jeans. Jovial laughter erupted from inside the barn. His men were back, and by the sound of it, they were razzing someone good. Curiosity got the best of him. He headed in through the back of the barn, skidding to a jarring halt. His men stared at him in the oddest fashion.

Apparently,
he
was that someone.

“What?” He lifted his hands, palms up.

“Like you don’t know.” Jake snickered.

“No, I don’t.” Cody dropped his arms to his sides and inspected his body. Maybe he still had manure on his ass. He was surprised he’d managed to clean the barn at all, given the state Monica had put him in.

Hank leaned forward and sniffed, flashing a grin. “Is that my cologne? You dirty dog, you.”

Damn, he must still stink. Cody inhaled deeply but only smelled the pungent scent of spice. He normally didn’t wear cologne and had only borrowed Hank’s to ensure the scent of manure wouldn’t linger on his skin. “Quit clowning around, boys. I’d like to finish getting dressed.”

“Bet that’s not what you said a couple hours ago.” Hank elbowed Jake in the ribs, causing him to snort in glee.

“Couple hours ago, I was taking care of business like you should be.” Cody shook his head, pushing past them and heading to the tackroom in no mood to banter.

“Oh, I plan on taking care of business soon. How ‘bout you, Russ? You gonna take care of business tonight?”

Cody turned around and narrowed his eyes. They couldn’t possibly know what had happened.

“Maybe.” A crooked grin hooked the corner of Rusty’s mouth, tilting his dark mustache. “Depends on the business that wiggles my way.” He winked.

“I’m talking about work,” Cody clarified.

“Get used to it, son. A man always does all the work.” Jake sighed, and a grin split his weathered old face. “But what sweet work it is. Ain’t that right, gents?” He cackled.

“You got that right, partner.” Rusty tipped his hat.

Cody cursed under his breath. “Look, Miss Hammond isn’t here because she wasn’t feeling well, so I took her back to her cabin.” He stared them down. “That’s all I did.”

“Whatever you say, son. You’re the boss.”

Jake whistled as he slapped his hat on his head, shielding his dancing eyes. Hank stuck his tongue in his cheek, poking out a dimple. Rusty ran his hand over his mouth, smoothing his grin.

“That’s right. I am the boss, and that’s what I say.” Cody spun around, almost making it to the tackroom, when a soggy bundle slapped against his back and thudded to the floor.

“You might wanna make another pit stop, boss. Awful gentlemanly of you to take the pretty little filly back to her cabin ... buck naked.” Hank’s voice purred behind him.

Chuckles and snorts rang out.

Well, hell
. Cody had forgotten Monica’s clothes. No wonder they didn’t believe him. Doing an about-face, he headed out to the bunkhouse with long, purposeful strides. Screw the wash-stall. He needed an ice cold shower, maybe two, and he’d never make it to the homestead. Picturing Monica “buck naked” tended to do that to him.

“Where you off to, boy?” Jake got out between snickers.