Send Me a Cowboy (4 page)

John threw back his head and laughed when
Katie’s face turned a brilliant red. He reached down and pulled her
to her feet. Standing on the step above him put her exactly at the
right height for kissing. Thank God, he couldn’t resist such
temptation. He covered her mouth with his, making her groan. His
taste was so flavorful. Dark. Rick. Decadent. His arms went around
her, pulling her against him. They were connected, chest to chest,
thigh to thigh. Her softness cushioned him, welcomed him.

“You taste delicious, Katie Lenard,” he
whispered against her lips. Cupping the back of her head, he took
her lips in a fevered hunger, probing the seam of her mouth with
his tongue. “Open.”

John nibbled at her upper lip in a way that
made it difficult for Katie to think. In fact, she had no desire to
think. She wanted to drown in the sensations spreading through her
body. Hesitantly, Katie opened her mouth under his, relishing the
shudder that ran through him at her surrender. His tongue coaxed
hers to follow his slow, lazy movements. He tasted so good. A hint
of coffee, a trace of mint. He tasted like a man should taste, she
thought as the sensual haze thickened.

His strong arms were like steel bands around
her and Katie was glad for the support. Her knees were weakened by
the kiss. She was no stranger to passionate kisses, but this was
far different than any she had ever experienced. Most first kisses
were hesitant and clumsy. There was nothing hesitant about John
Kinkaid’s possession. As soon as her mouth had opened beneath his,
he’d claimed her with his kiss.

She had no idea how long they remained locked
in the intimate embrace, so lost was she in the sensation of being
held by him. Her body felt welded to his, the knowledge of his
desire for her no secret. She wanted to melt into a puddle at his
feet. She wiggled against him, seeking to get closer still.

John pulled Katie closer, wrapping his arms
around her waist to press her against the length of his body. One
hand snaked beneath her sweatshirt, caressing the warm flesh of her
lower back. He looked into her huge brown eyes and waited with
barely concealed impatience for her reaction. The blood heated in
his veins, his desire for the woman he held quickly reaching the
boiling point. His fingers spread out deliberately, his touch
becoming more intimate.

The swell of her pretty breasts pressed
against the fabric of her sweatshirt. The soft material hugged her
curves lovingly. He wanted more than anything to discover what was
hidden from his gaze. He moved his hand around her side, caressing
the soft skin as he went. He pushed his thumb beneath the bottom of
her bra, the tip moving back and forth along the gentle swell. He
paused a moment to see if she would protest. When she just watched
him with those big, brown eyes, he cupped her breast through her
bra. Her abundant flesh overflowed even his large hand. He lifted
his head to watch her expression as he touched her. She stiffened
at first, then gasped when his thumb rubbed across her swollen
nipple. She pushed closer, urging him to repeat the caress, and he
bit back a groan. Her innocent response inflamed him, pushing
quickly toward the point of no return.

“Do you like that, honey?” She was so ripe,
so full. He wanted to taste her. Instead, he bent his head and took
her lips again, plundering her soft mouth. She tasted sweet. He
could quickly become addicted to her.

A sound from the other room forced its way
through the fog in his brain. Lifting his head, he stared down at
her moist lips, slightly swollen from his kisses. Reluctantly he
removed his hands from beneath her shirt, wincing at the tight pull
of his jeans as he backed away, putting one step between them.

“This is not the best place for this,” he
growled when he heard more movement from the kitchen area. James
and Marcia were returning.

“I, umm…” She bit her lip, staring at him
through eyes widened with shock and sexual hunger.

Unable to stop himself, he surged forward,
giving her one last hard kiss before moving completely away. James
and Marcia joined them mere seconds later. When James suggested
they take a look at the bedrooms, John and Katie ascended the
stairs quickly and avoided looking at each other.

Neither saw the speculative look exchanged by
their companions.

*****

Even though it was late January, it wasn’t
terribly cold out. The thick sweater Katie wore today was
sufficient for a quick trip outdoors. John was outside with several
prospective clients. If she could interrupt at a convenient time,
she hoped to speak with him for just a few moments. She brushed her
free hand down her side, loving the feel of the material. The
sweater had been Jessica’s Christmas present. It was a royal blue
and she said it brought out the red highlights in Katie’s hair.

Right. As she’d told John a week ago, her
hair was mousy brown. She’d have silky, beautiful hair and a size
four figure, just as soon as pigs learned how to fly. Katie walked
toward the outdoor corral, smiling at her fanciful thoughts. The
report for the guest ranch was almost complete and today would
probably be her last day on the Triple K. She could finish
everything else at her office in town.

After the episode at the homestead, John had
barely spoken to her. When she did have questions for him, he
responded with short, curt answers or referred her to James or
Marcia. She’d taken the hint and erased their encounter from her
memory–or at least she’d tried. Throwing herself into the project,
she’d worked hard to bring it in under the projected budget. It
would be close.

She’d told Jessica about the cold shoulder
treatment and her friend had advised her not to be discouraged,
that there was still plenty of time. But Katie no longer wanted
John Kinkaid as her cowboy valentine. She wanted something more
with the hard-headed rancher. She just wished she could find a way
to make him want that too.

She hadn’t spoken to him for two days. She’d
gotten here early today only to find he was scheduled in
back-to-back meetings with several potential clients. She’d been
working over four hours today recalculating costs, budgets, and tax
benefits. She wished she could put her love life together as
easily.

Her stomach rumbled. She was hungry but
didn’t know if she should stay for lunch today. Running into town
wasn’t an option since it was an hour away. She sighed. She
probably should have brought her lunch. She could have walked
around the ranch and found a spot to have a one woman picnic. And a
good cry. Last week after the initial tour of the homestead
everyone had returned to the main house for a late lunch prepared
by the housekeeper-slash-cook whom Marcia had introduced as Mrs.
Carter. As soon as he’d eaten, John had excused himself. And had
been ignoring her ever since.

She’d been left to work with James to
determine what amenities and services he wanted to offer. James had
deferred to Marcia on almost all decisions and Katie had soon
discovered the two were definitely serious about each other. Maybe
that was what had sent John into a snit.

She walked down the steps, spotting John and
another cowboy on the other side of the corral. Reaching the fence,
she opened the gate, making sure to close it behind her. The
ranching books she’d read over the last few weeks always mentioned
greenhorns and their failure to close a gate behind them. She’d
show John Kinkaid she wasn’t a greenhorn. That she could live in
his world. Surprisingly, the corral was well-kept. She’d expected
torn-up ground and patches of weeds. And lumps of manure. Instead,
the grass was even and as well cared for as the lawns in the city.
No poop in sight. Did he have a cowboy come out and scoop behind
the horses?

The thought made her laugh out loud and the
sound drew the attention of the men. She’d made it about halfway
across the corral before they noticed her. She waved the papers in
her hand, signaling that she wanted to talk to them. Both men
seemed to freeze for just an instant then all hell broke loose.

John jumped over the fence and came barreling
toward her. The cowboy ran to a large horse tethered to the corral.
Why hadn’t she noticed it? Oh, right, her thoughts had been
centered on John. Just as they had been since she’d seen his
photograph.

It was too far away to hear what John was
saying as he ran toward her. Was he cussing her because she’d
interrupted his meeting?

Just as she wondered why he was running, she
heard a noise behind her. Turning, she raised her papers to shield
her eyes and saw the largest, blackest bull she’d ever seen in her
entire life, flying hell-bent-for-leather across the corral.
Straight at her. Now she knew why John was coming toward her like a
bat out of hell. She was about to be flattened by two thousand
pounds of pure fury. She froze. What the hell was she supposed to
do? Play dead? No, that was in case of a bear attack.

Instinctively she turned to run, uncaring of
the ungraceful picture she was probably making with her boobs
bouncing and her thighs rubbing together fast enough to start a
fire. Why, oh why, hadn’t she started her gym membership yet?

She lost her grip on the papers and they
fluttered to the ground. Wasn’t a bull like a t-rex, their vision
based more on movement than sight?

Holy crap, Katie thought hysterically, trying
to get her legs to move faster, where were all of these useless
trivia facts springing from? She had to watch less Jeopardy and
exercise more.

She tried, she honestly tried not to be the
horror movie extra who tripped and fell just as she was about to
escape the clutches of the madman. But luck wasn’t on her side. Two
steps later her right ankle crumpled beneath her and she went
sprawling face first onto the ground. John was close enough now for
her hear him.

“Stay down, Katie,” he ordered, his voice
hard with an emotion that sounded suspiciously like fear.

Katie rolled up into a ball and lay perfectly
still, ignoring the pain in her ankle.

In seconds she felt his big, warm body
folding around her. He’d put himself between her and the bull. She
instantly started to struggle. “No,” she protested.

“Shut the hell up, woman.” His arms clamped
around her so tightly she was afraid he was going to crack a rib.
She couldn’t breathe.

After what seemed like hours, but was, in
fact, only a few seconds, she became aware of the eerie stillness
that had settled around them. The bull hadn’t charged. She heard
the snorting of a horse.

“Okay, boss, I’ve got him. Move nice and
slow.”

John’s hold loosened and he rose gracefully
to his feet. Katie turned onto her back, taking in deep gulps of
sweet air. At the moment she didn’t care about the picture she must
be presenting of a beached whale. She was just grateful she didn’t
have a gaping hole somewhere on her body. And that John was still
in one piece. Never had she been so frightened. The bull had come
out of nowhere but it was her fault for not paying more attention.
Not only had she done something stupid to hurt herself, she’d put
John’s life in danger as well.

Tears slid from the corners of her eyes. Why,
oh why, couldn’t she be an average size woman? Her weight got in
the way of everything. If John hadn’t been there, the bull would
have gored her because she couldn’t move out the way fast enough.
She was aware of the other two men talking and movement above her.
When something blocked the sun from her face, she opened her eyes,
staring up at the man who had save her life. Before she could
formulate a plan to get herself up off the hard ground gracefully,
he squatted beside her.

“Are you hurt?” The question was short and
terse.

“Are you?” she countered.

“Don’t mess with me, Katie.”

She sighed. He was entitled to his anger.
She’d almost gotten him either severely injured or killed.

“I think I twisted my ankle.”

Expecting him to reach out a hand to help her
to her feet, she was stunned speechless when his arms went beneath
her shoulders and knees, lifting her effortlessly. How the hell had
he done that? Turning her head, she half expected to see the other
cowboy helping him lift her. Nope, it was all John.

“Wow.”

“That’s all you can say?” he growled, his
voice sounded odd. “You were damn near gored by a bull.”

“Uh, yeah…” She cleared her throat. Should
she tell him she was more impressed by his display of strength than
her near brush with death? How many men could deadlift her weight?
Way too few in her circle of acquaintances.

He carried her into the house, but when he
started up the staircase she protested. “Put me down. I can walk.”
Despite his display of strength, she was too heavy for any man—even
one as fit as John—to carry up a flight of stairs.

“Shut up.” He continued to climb, holding
tightly to her and preventing any move she made for release.

Entering the closest bedroom, he sat her
gently on the side of the bed then knelt down on one knee to
examine her ankle. “What the hell were you thinking?”

She shifted and tried to pull her foot out of
his hold but he didn’t let go. He gently eased off her black
sneaker and then her black crew sock. The skin around her ankle was
puffed up and already turning purple. He gently manipulated the
joint causing her to wince, but there was no escalation of
pain.

“Well, you’ve sprained the hell out of it,
but I don’t think it’s broken. Lucky for you, the vet’s down at the
stables looking over a horse.” He stared up at her. “I’ll have him
come up and take a look.”

“A vet!” she screeched. “What am I a prize
bull?”

“No,” he answered her as he gently lowered
her injured foot and took hold of the opposite leg. “The prize bull
is still in the corral that you so casually sauntered through like
you were strolling through Central Park.”