Round-the-Clock Temptation (4 page)

“What do you do now?” she asked, then added with a knowing smile. “Besides your Cattleman's Club missions.”

“My father retired recently and I took his place at his engineering firm.”

“Engineering? Sounds boring.”

“Someone has to do it,” he said, even though she'd pretty much nailed it. Engineering bored him to tears. It always had, even in college, but he'd stuck it out and got his degree with the highest of honors, because it was expected. Thornes weren't quitters, his father liked to boast.

“But why you?” Nita asked. “Can't he sell the business?”

He sat back in his seat. “You sure do ask a lot of questions.”

“Yeah, I have a curious nature. It gets me into trouble.”

“You don't say.” He didn't have any difficulty imagining that. She had trouble written all over her.

“Like the time when I was six and I played I'll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours with Bo Wilders behind the bunkhouse.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Six, huh?”

“Don't tell me you never played that game.”

“Not to my recollection.”

“Well, Bo was bragging that he could pee on a tree, and made fun of me because I couldn't. Of course I had to prove him wrong, and you can imagine the mess that created.”

Connor broke into a grin. “I can imagine.”

“My daddy caught us and I got the whole birds-and-bees speech.”

If Connor had been caught doing that, it would have cost him a lashing from his father's belt and a long lecture on respect and responsibility. As far as Connor could tell, his father had two expressions when it came to his sons—disinterest, and disappointment.

And maybe in Jake's case, exasperation.

“Sounds like you had an exciting childhood,” Connor said.

“Yeah, that's one way to look at it. I'm not sure my daddy would agree with you, though.” She polished off the last of her burger and took a long pull on her soda straw. “You about ready to go? We've got work to do.”

Connor nodded. He pulled out his wallet and tossed a tip down on the table. “Let's get to it.”

“I hope you know what you're getting yourself into,” Nita said as they stood to leave.

“Don't worry about me. I can take whatever you can dish out.”

“That's good,” she said with a grin that could only be described as devious. “Because by the time I'm finished with you, you're going to be a full-fledged cowboy.”

C
onnor limped up the stairs to his bedroom. He'd always considered himself in supreme physical condition—until Nita got her hands on him, that is. He never imagined learning the proper way to ride a horse could do so much damage to a man's…
pride
. He ached something fierce in places he'd never ached before, in muscles he hadn't known existed until today. Rangers training had been a breeze compared to what she'd put him through.

After she felt confident he knew how to ride, and despite Jimmy's assurance that the boys had done a thorough job, she and Connor had gone out to make sure all the holes had been adequately filled and it was safe to let the horses back out to pasture. It was nearly dark before they rode back.

Since Jane wasn't there to cook, Jimmy had made a roaring bonfire and they roasted hot dogs on sticks. Afterward, they sat around the fire under a sky blanketed with stars drinking beer and swapping stories. Socially, the hands treated Nita like one of the men. An equal. But when it came to her running the farm, it was obvious they respected her authority and had no trouble taking orders from her. She was tough, but fair.

It had been a long day and now all Connor wanted to do was collapse in bed and sleep off the pain. Instead of going home and sleeping last night after receiving his assignment, he'd spent half the night doing his laundry and preparing for another who-knows-how-many days away from home. He'd had a total of about six hours sleep in the past three days. Hopefully, after a solid eight hours, he'd feel half-human by morning.

“You're walking a little stiff, there, Connor.”

He reached the top landing and turned to see Nita climbing the stairs behind him, a self-satisfied grin on her face. She knew damn well what she'd done to him and looked awfully proud of herself for it.

“I've felt worse,” he said. As a Ranger he'd been shot three times, nearly blown up and just about flattened like a pancake when his parachute opened late. Although the pain he was feeling tonight definitely ran a close second.

“The boys giving you trouble?” she asked.

“Boys?”

Her eyes traveled down to the vicinity of his crotch. “The family jewels.”

He just about laughed out loud. He couldn't recall a woman ever coming right and asking him about his
boys
. “The boys are fine,” he assured her. “It's the rest of me that aches.”

She followed him to his room. “There's a bottle of pain reliever in the bathroom cabinet.”

“I think I just need sleep,” he said unbuttoning his shirt. He grabbed his bag from the bed and tossed it on the floor. Unpacking would have to wait until morning.

“Tough guy, huh?” She leaned in the doorway watching him. “I think I know what might make you feel better.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked. “What?”

She stepped in his room, lacing her fingers and cracking her knuckles. “Take off your shirt.”

He looked at her, eyebrow raised.

She noticed the expression on his face and laughed. “Don't get your boxers in a twist. I'm only going to give you a back rub.”

“A back rub?” Connor wasn't sure how he felt about that. Not that he couldn't use a backrub right about now, but they hardly knew each other. It might be…awkward.

“What's the matter?” she asked, walking toward him and rolling her sleeves. “Are you shy?”

He couldn't help wondering, by her taunting tone, if that was some sort of challenge. There was something about her, something wild and sexy and a little out of control. At the same time he'd never met a woman who seemed so confidant, so sure of what she wanted. It both intrigued and disturbed him. Intrigued him because, well, hell, who wouldn't be with a woman like Nita? She was a walking contradiction. A puzzle he was itching to solve. And that was exactly the thing that disturbed him. She had a way of making him
feel.

Things he never let himself feel. Things he
shouldn't
feel.

“It's that curious nature of yours that I'm worried about,” he told her.

“If I was making a pass at you, believe me, you would know it. I don't mince words.”

“So I've noticed.”

She propped her hands on her hips. “Well, do you want a back rub or not? I guarantee you'll enjoy it.”

Oh, he didn't doubt that for a second. He just didn't feel it was proper considering they'd only met that morning. But the thought of not letting her made him feel like a prude.

“Yeah, what the heck,” he agreed.

“Then take the shirt off and lay down on your stomach.”

He shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it over the footboard, sat down and pried off his boots, then stretched out on the bed, laying his head on the pillow.

He felt the bed shift as Nita climbed on. She straddled his legs, plopped down and made herself comfy on the back of his thighs. Then her hands were on his shoulders, her skin warm and a little rough, her thumbs working themselves deep into the muscle. If he hadn't been so achy and exhausted, he might have been turned on by her touch, but the truth was, there was nothing sexual about her actions. All he felt now was relaxed.

Nita gave a low whistle, as her hands slid lower. “You military men sure do know how to grow the muscles.”

If he wasn't half-asleep already, he would have laughed. “Out of curiosity, do you ever have a thought that you don't say out loud?”

“Cowboy, if you knew what I was
really
thinking, you wouldn't have let me anywhere near your bed.”

He glanced over his shoulder and gave her a wary look.

She grinned. “I'm just pullin' your leg.”

He settled his head down on the pillow and closed his eyes.

“And the answer to your question is no. I pretty much say whatever's on my mind. A lot of people don't appreciate that. They say it's not ladylike.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Not really. I was born this way. If people don't like it, tough. I'm not out to impress anyone.” She smoothed her hands over his skin. “What are all these marks on your back from?”

“Burn scars. I was a little too close to a building when it exploded.”

“No kidding. And what about this one on your shoulder?” she asked, skimming her fingertips over it.

“Bullet wound.”

“It looks recent.”

“It was.”

“Some covert mission you can't talk about, I'm assuming.”

“Yep.” He was fighting to stay awake, but he could feel himself beginning to fade, feel sleep overwhelming him. What the woman could do with her hands. He felt as if he were melting into the mattress.

She worked her hands lower, where he was the most sore.

“Hmm, feels good,” he mumbled. So relaxed.

Nita dug her thumbs into the knots in his lower back. She was sure his backside was aching pretty good, too,
and wondered what his reaction would be if she touched him there. She sure wouldn't mind. He had a body that wouldn't quit—wide shoulders and arms the size of tree trunks. A thick, muscular chest that tapered down into a firm torso and slim hips. And she could just imagine the equipment he was packing under those jeans.

Even though he was now technically her employee, she wasn't immune to all that strapping muscle and tanned skin. Not that a man being her employee had ever stopped her before. In fact, that made it all the more exciting. The stolen moments in the stable when no one was around. A quick roll in the field at sunset. Nights on a blanket under the stars after everyone else had gone to bed.

A little shiver of excitement passed through her when she thought of taking a tumble with Connor.

Those relationships—if you could even call them relationships—were always brief and uncomplicated. That was all men seemed to want from her, which worked out just fine since she'd never wanted to get married. She didn't even want to settle down. Not that she wouldn't enjoy the companionship. She might have thought about kids someday
way
in the future, someone to take over the farm someday. But in her mind, to have kids you ought to be married, and marriage meant compromise, losing your identity. She wasn't going to do that for anyone. Not after knowing what it had done to her momma.

Katherine had been from a wealthy Dallas family—a city girl. But when she'd met Will Windcroft she'd fallen desperately in love with him. She'd married him after only three months of courting and left the excite
ment of the big city for a simpler life on the horse-breeding farm. According to what Nita had been told, as happy as they appeared on the outside, deep down her momma missed her life in Dallas and never quite adjusted to the harsh conditions of the farm. But she knew Rose and Nita were happy there, and she loved Will too much to leave him. Not one to cause a fuss, she'd never told her husband how she felt, and tried to keep up the facade of the happy wife.

Nita sometimes wondered if the cancer had only been a symptom, and what her momma really died of was a broken heart. She would probably never know. What information she did have came from her sister and her mother's old friends. Her daddy, all these years later, still wouldn't talk about it. She knew there wasn't a day that passed that he didn't think about his wife and miss her terribly. Sometimes Nita would pass by his room and hear him talking to the picture of Katherine that he kept next to his bed.

She was sure Katherine was the reason why her daddy had raised Rose and Nita to be independent, to stand up for what they wanted and believed in. He taught them to follow their dreams and not compromise themselves for anyone or anything. Katherine was the reason why he hadn't made a fuss about Rose moving to the city instead of staying to help on the farm. Rose always had been like their mother in that way.

Nita heard a soft snoring sound and realized Connor had fallen asleep.

She sat back on his thighs and grinned. She really had worn him out. He'd done pretty well today considering his lack of experience. She had a feeling he was the
adaptable sort, though she hadn't completely figured him out yet. He was so guarded, so…
controlled
. He seemed to say exactly the right thing all the time, whether it was what he was feeling or not. The concept was foreign to her, since, as they had determined earlier, she wasn't shy about speaking her mind.

She grazed her fingers over the puckered skin on his back. Burns, bullet holes—what he must have seen, must have been through. No wonder his eyes looked so old. So…wounded.

She very gently climbed off the bed and tiptoed to the door. She wouldn't mind getting into Connor's head, seeing exactly what made him tick. She wouldn't mind getting to know other parts of him as well. She wondered if a guy like him would be interested in a woman like her. It might have been her imagination, but when she'd stepped up on the porch that morning, before he realized who she was, she could swear she'd seen male appreciation in his eyes.

That, she decided, flicking off the light and glancing back at his peacefully sleeping form, would be something worth looking into.

 

“The number one rule on the farm is safety,” Nita told Connor. She stood in the corral with Buttercup, a chocolate-brown mare.

Apparently her back massage had done the trick last night. He'd awoken that morning feeling refreshed and full of energy. So far he'd followed her through her daily routine and had learned how to feed and water the horses, how to muck a stall and how to put on a halter and saddle.

A great deal of what they did was hot, dirty, physically demanding work. But it was good, honest work. And though he couldn't put his finger on the exact reason, there was something about it that made him feel so…
peaceful.

His orders now were to sit on the fence and observe as she trained the horse, and so he had for the past hour. Normally that would have had him crawling out of his skin, the way sitting behind a desk had. This was different. It was a beautiful fall day, with blue skies as far as the eye could see, and though the air was cool, the sun felt warm on his back and shoulders.

Simply watching Nita was a treat in itself. She had a way with the big graceful animals, some kind of second sense. She could anticipate the horses every move, every thought. It was obvious she really loved what she did, loved
them,
and the feeling was most definitely mutual.

It was all he needed to see to convince him there was no way she would ever do anything to hurt her animals. The poisoned feed, the holes—there was no way she could have done it herself. She just wasn't capable.

“When you approach a horse, especially in the corral, you never do it from behind,” Nita said. “Horses have a blind spot and they get startled easily. Make sure she can see you. And approach from the left if you can.”

“Why the left?” he asked.

“Because that's the side they're used to being handled on. Although Buttercup here is a big cream puff. It would take an awful lot to spook her. Isn't that right girl,” Nita crooned, stroking the mare's neck. As if answering her, the mare lowered her big head and nudged Nita's shoulder.

“It's all about respect,” she told him. “If you respect them, they'll respect you.”

“You make it look so easy.”

“Believe me, it's not always like this. I may not have bullet holes in me, but I've been bitten, kicked, thrown from the saddle and stomped on more times than I can count. I like the challenge.” She stroked the horse's neck, affection in her eyes. “Not that I don't appreciate a horse like Buttercup every now and then.”

“Is she yours?”

“She belongs to a family in Fort Worth. I'm training her for their daughter. I'll miss her, though. She's a real sweetheart.”

“How long do you usually have a horse you're training?”

“It could take a month, sometimes two. Sometimes even longer. It just depends on what they'll be using the horse for, and how it takes to the training.” She looked over at him. “You sure this isn't boring you to tears?”