Last's Temptation (3 page)

The ringmaster nodded. “You are sure you want to take our Poppy to Texas with you?”

“Uh—”

Amelia and Curtis nodded emphatically. Last recognized desperation when he saw it.

“The judge was sitting right next to you, Mr. Last,” Curtis said. “We think he wasn’t very happy.”

So reassurance of stability was in order. Surprisingly, he was eager to do the reassuring. “Yes. Absolutely. I’ll take Esme—I mean
Poppy
and company to Texas.”

Everyone stopped when the ringmaster gestured. “This is Poppy’s husband-to-be,” he announced, and everyone applauded. Sweat broke out on Last’s forehead under his hat.

He’d offered the ranch, not a ring! Mason had nearly blown a gasket when a pregnant Valentine had shown up a while back. But Mason was going to
kill
him if Last brought home a ready-made family.

“T
HAT WAS AWKWARD
,” Poppy said once the three of them were packed into his truck. “I apologize.”

Last seemed too stunned to reply. She could tell he was feeling a mixture of anger and annoyance. “Last?”

“You look better without the stage makeup,” he said. “Though I really dug the costume.”

She blinked. “I always thought the plumes were a bit over-the-top.”

“No way. Made you look like a fan dancer.”

Then he went back to staring at the road.

“You can drop us off at the ranch you’d mentioned,” Poppy said, feeling sick at how she’d used him. The judge had been adamant tonight about taking the children and…she’d had no choice. “I don’t really expect you to marry me.”

“I should hope not,” Last said. “I can’t marry anyone. Ever. It’s a conscience thing.”

“I understand. And I don’t want to get married. It just got very heated back there. The lion tamer said the judge was a bit upset, and the ringmaster said I needed to make a magical disappearance but in a way in which they could responsibly cover my leaving. You provided the perfect cover.”

Last sighed. “How?”

“They told him we were leaving on a honeymoon. And then you were taking us to your Texas ranch to see how we liked living life in one place, in the country, far from all the glitter.”

“I see. Did he buy it?”

She shrugged. “Enough to give us some time. We have to be back in a month, of course, so he can check on the children’s well-being before he’ll give me final custody.”

Last felt sorry for Esme and her kids. It was
tough being in the middle of a custody battle—he knew that too well—and there was no reason for him to say that everything would work out. It might not.

“Well, you’ll like the ranch,” he said. “Everyone around there is certifiable but nice. You’ll fit in just fine. The kids can go to school—”

Clapping erupted from the backseat. Esme turned around. “I’m surprised at you two!”

“It sounds like fun!” Amelia said.

“Yeah,” Curtis said. “I’m going to be just like Mr. Last. A cowboy!”

Last sighed. “You’re going to get me in big trouble with your aunt.” Frowning, he said, “Hey, since you’re not in the circus anymore, can I call you Esme instead of your stage name?”

She blinked. “I’ve never gotten used to Esmerelda. I was teased in school over it, and when the ringmaster named me Poppy Peabody, I was so relieved.”

“I know exactly how that feels,” Last said. “Imagine your name being Last. And being last in a long line of brothers. Never mind the name games. Fast Last, Lasting Gas and so on. I pounded on some kids in my youth.”

“I didn’t,” Esme said. “I pretended I didn’t hear them. Esmerelda Smells was the main nickname.”

“Oh. Bummer.” He brightened. “You smell wonderful to me.”

She looked at him askance. “Thank you. When were you close enough to tell?”

“I can tell.” He nodded. “Women come in all flavors under the sun, and I love them every one.”

She stared at him.

“Sorry.” Last looked only a tiny bit ashamed. “Well, I do.”

She narrowed her eyes at this too-playful cowboy. “I have the strangest feeling you didn’t bear the heaviest load at the ranch,” Poppy said. “You’re far too relaxed.”

“Mason bore most of the burden,” Last admitted cheerfully. “And I was ever the baby wearing rose-colored glasses. My brothers all had problems. Tex, for example, had
budus interruptus.
”

“Sounds painful.”

“It was. For all of us. He was a madman when things didn’t go his way with his plants. No different than the rest of us, of course. Everybody’s got hang-ups. Probably even you.”

She looked out the opposite window.

“You can share if you like,” he said. “I’m listening.”

She checked over her shoulder. Amelia and Curtis had fallen asleep, their heads resting against each other’s.

“I never wanted to be tied down,” she said quietly. “I was the girl who never dreamed of The Prince. The One. I was always hanging around my grandparents, learning card tricks. Sleight of hand. Even ventriloquism.”

“Great,” Last said. “A woman who’s more into freedom than me. It’s almost like meeting my mirror image, only more frightening because you’re hot as hell.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Definitely. That’s why once I drop you at the ranch I’ve got to go. I’ve already had one night of passion go wrong on me. I have no intention of repeating history.”

“Did you love her?”

“We don’t even remember the night very much,” Last admitted. “But the aftermath was a killer, never mind the hangover. My baby is an angel, though. She’s gonna be a man slayer when she grows up. Looks like her mom, thank heaven, except with a bit of darkness in her hair and eyes.” He glanced over at her. “Sort of like you.”

Poppy felt something tingle down her spine,
something very much like a magic trick played perfectly.

“The problem is,” he said with a wicked gleam in his eyes, “I would love to make love to you. But I just can’t afford that mistake again.”

“That scared?”

“I told you, I’m living the cliché,” he said, grinning at her with a wink. “The ultimate untamable bad boy. All I can say is that you would like it. I would like it. And it would definitely be something we both remembered.”

That tingle turned into a warning shiver. She was not at a place in her life where she could be seduced. Even by such a master of seduction as this cowboy, who, no doubt, was not exaggerating his skills. “Maybe I should have accepted the lion tamer,” she murmured.

“They broke the mold for sure when they made him,” Last said. “Why didn’t you marry him?”

“I knew he was asking me as a friend. I didn’t want that, even for the sake of the children. It wasn’t fair to him.”

“And the ringmaster? I got the sense that he was rather fatherly.”

She nodded. “He was. He offered, but I saved him from his kindness. Staying with them, with the
circus, wouldn’t have endeared me to the judge. It was time to go.”

“And along I came,” Last said, turning off the highway onto a side road. “I want one last drive along the beach before heading back toward the land of stability.” He gave a heavy sigh. “I must warn you, we have a strong dose of superstition in our family. And if I get the sense even for a second that you might be invoking The Curse in me, I might have to…to send you into town to live with the Union Junction stylists. You’d like them,” he said. “They’d mother your kids to death. And the children would be closer to school.”

“What curse?” Poppy asked. “I don’t usually believe in such things.”

“Good,” Last said, satisfied. “This one has to do with love, and it’s happened to every single one of my brothers. When they found their true loves, they got hurt.”

“That’s…silly,” Poppy said. “What have I gotten myself into?” She glanced into the backseat, where the children slept, comfortable in the double cab.

“I’m sure everything’s going to be just fine,” Last told her. He peered through the windshield. “What the hell is that beside the road?”

“A dog?” Poppy looked harder. “A sea lion!”

“No way,” Last said. “They’re too fat to get all the way over here.” They were close enough to the ocean to see the waves from the road, but the road was still too far for a sea lion, at least by Last’s standards. Stopping the truck, he said, “I’m going to go check on whatever it is.”

Poppy watched anxiously as he snuck up on the hapless creature. She turned on the truck’s hazard lights so drivers coming around the narrow, winding road would see them.

To her surprise, she saw Last struggling with the animal. It seemed as if he was trying to push it back toward the sea. And just when it appeared he might be winning, the animal turned on him. Flippers and arms battled. Gasping, Poppy hit the horn with all her might. Startled, the animal lumbered back toward the ocean. Last lay on the ground for a moment before picking himself up and dragging himself into the seat of his truck. “Just like the rodeo,” he said. “I’m always getting tossed.”

“Are you all right?” Poppy asked. “That was horrible!”

“I’m fine,” Last said. “By golly, it was harder to corral than a bull. It nearly got the best of me!”

“That’s because it
was
a bull, obviously,” Poppy said. “A junior sea lion bull, beached and confused.”

“Yes. And damned unappreciative.” Last checked his ripped shirt. “It took exception to me saving it.”

“It didn’t look like you were saving it. It wanted to kill you! What made you try to move a wild creature?”

He groaned. “I move all kinds of wild creatures all the time, some that weigh a couple tons and have impressive horns and sharp hooves. Believe me, I didn’t think it would be any more difficult than throwing a cow to the ground or corralling a mad bull. It looked like a bunch of harmless blubber lying there all pathetic.”

“You smell like seal,” Poppy said. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

“I’m just badly hurt,” Last said with a groan. “I may need a doctor.”

“Scoot over. I’ll drive you to the hospital.” As she stared at him clutching his side, she shook her head. “I want you to know this one doesn’t count.”

He looked at her through pained eyes. “What one?”

“The Curse thing. The don’t-hurt-me thing.”

The pain left Last and he sat up, staring at her. “Oh, no,” he said, his tone angry. “Oh, no, no,
no.
You
cannot
be The One.”

Last had known this woman and her children were trouble the moment he’d laid eyes on them. They were even more trouble now that they were going to cost him an airplane ticket out of California and into the land of ultimate bungee jumping. Most particularly, they were going to get him in a lot of trouble with Mason, who already thought Last hadn’t properly learned the Condom Song since he’d become an unwed father. Bringing home two more children would only make matters more awkward between him and his eldest brother.

Last stared at Poppy for a few moments, his whole body screaming with pain and his mind shouting horrific echoes of denial.

“This time, The Curse is wrong. Actually, I feel fine now.” He struggled to sit up in the driver’s
seat. “I’m completely healthy, with not one pain an aspirin can’t fix. I just need you to drive.”

“What?” Esme asked.

He took a deep, shaken breath. If he was honest, he’d admit the sea lion had scared the hell out of him. What looked like harmless, soft flubber had really been equal to any mad thing he’d met on the ranch, including Mason. There was a possibility he had a cracked rib.

“You drive,” Last repeated, getting out of the truck to limp around to the passenger side. “I’m according you the honor of driving a man’s truck, which has never been driven by a female.”

She shook her head. “No way. I want no part of you or your truck.” She sniffed in a hoity-toity way, but he didn’t have the strength to argue with her.

“Look. Get your foxy little ass out of my seat so I can sit down.”

“You’re hurt!”

“No, I’m not,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I think you are.”

“I think I’d know if I was!” A star passed before his vision that seemed as big as Halley’s Comet. He slumped into the seat she’d vacated.
“Drive.”

She cleared her throat. “Last, can I say something?”

“Sure, magician.”

“I need to stop by and say goodbye to my parents. Plus the kids and I need to pack a suitcase. And I really would love to get out of my costume.”

The galaxy was threatening to take him over. “Do whatever you have to,” he said. “Just don’t ever tell a soul that a rubbery seal nearly got the best of me.”

“It’ll be our secret.” She pulled out onto the road, winding back toward the highway. “I could make a pit stop at the hospital—”

“I am not hurt,” he insisted. “I probably just caught a bit of wind shear when I was hang-gliding and didn’t realize I’d reorganized my internal organs at that time. Next breeze I’ll be fine.”

Her giggle was annoying. “Whatever.”

He kept his eyes tightly shut, enjoying Esme’s smooth driving. Okay, he would let her drive all the way to the ranch. There he could find some tape to bandage his rib. Shoot, he’d been hurt worse than this in rodeos and had still dragged himself back to the ranch. He could do it again.

Only…this time there was Mason to think about. Now that would be pain that would send him into the next galaxy. Cracking one eye open, he stared over at Esme as she concentrated on the
road. Damn, she was pretty. So exotic. And good to her family. He liked that in a woman. And she had a little bit of attitude, which he thought spiced her up just fine.

His eye traveled from her top to the sequined band at her hips where the cloth strips hung. Her exposed waist was a smooth road, he decided poetically, one which he would certainly like to navigate. Such a shame she was totally wrong for him.

Valentine hadn’t been right for him, and she was the mother of his child. So there was no way that Esme could be the one. With her two kids and her unstable ways she was the worst-case scenario of what could happen if a man didn’t look before he leaped off the cliff of romance.

“You’re staring at me,” she said. “With one eye. And it gives you a remarkably Popeye-ish appearance.”

“You could have said pirate,” he complained.

“Your eye is pretty swollen. I feel Popeye is appropriate.”

“Lovely. Popeye and Poppy sitting in a tree—”

“Oh, good grief.” She stopped the truck. “I think you have a concussion.”

“I swear I do not, madam. I am insulted you would suggest it.”

He thought he heard her say, “What a fruitcake” under her breath. Magnanimously he ignored that.

“So what exactly does the judge think your parents could do better with the children than you do?” he asked.

She sighed, starting to drive again. “Send them to a regular school, give them a one-home environment, all the things children need. I know it’s true, but he simply does not understand that I’ve been caring for my parents for some time. The strain of losing my sister was too much for them. Unless you’ve lost a child, I don’t think you can understand that pain.”

He nodded, thinking about his father. “Actually I do understand a little.” Maverick had never gotten over losing his wife, and as much as Last hated the fact that his father had left them, at least Maverick hadn’t let himself die from grief. Last could remember their father, his skin gray from shock, his gait changed—he shook his head. “The ranch is a great place. You’re doing the right thing. If you think you can handle it.”

“I do,” she said. “Thank you for taking us with you.”

He groaned, trying not to think about Mason and the coronary to come. “Don’t mention it.” But
he couldn’t help thinking about the children in the back of the truck. “I wasn’t certain I liked you having them in your act,” he admitted now.

Esme looked at him. “They’re with me all the time. And I teach them, as did other people in the troupe. What was wrong with it?”

“I don’t know. When you sawed Curtis—” he lowered his voice “—you scared me. It seemed almost medieval.”

Stopping the car, she peered into his face. “Are you sure you didn’t get a screw knocked out of you?”

“All my screws are tight,” he replied airily, “but I really did not like it when you made Amelia disappear. That was much too high for a little girl. I was afraid she’d fall.”

“She wears a harness that you can’t see, and there’s a cleverly concealed net below, in case something did go wrong.”

“I knew you’d take all the proper precautions, but still I was afraid,” he admitted. “I don’t know how your circus act is scarier than teaching a child how to rodeo—and we all got busted up at one time or another—and yet it bothered me.”

She blinked. “You sound like the judge.”

He held up a hand. “I don’t mean to. I’m just trying to figure out why it bothered me so much.”

“Perhaps you believed in the magic,” she suggested.

“No,” he said. “I most certainly did not.”

“What is the difference between my act and yours?” she demanded. “All this superstition nonsense?”

“That is a Jefferson fact,” he insisted, “and you’re simply using optical illusions.”

She laughed at him as she pulled up in front of a small cottage-style bungalow. “Home,” she said. “Do I need to help you out of the truck?”

“I’m fine.” Stubbornly he crawled out of the passenger seat. “Though I wonder if your parents have a teeny-weeny bandage I could borrow.”

“For your ribs?”

“Never mind.” Her trouble was that she was so sure of herself. So pigheaded. And, unfortunately, so sexy.

He just had to stop thinking of her that way.

“Come inside,” she said, tucking one of his arms over her shoulder. “My parents will fix you a cup of tea.”

He needed some Jack Daniel’s in that tea, but he refused to inquire as to her parents’ preference for something harder than chamomile. Trying not to groan, he let Esme lead him inside the small house.

It smelled of cinnamon, he realized. Very much like Valentine’s bakery. Suddenly he missed home—he missed his little daughter—and he dreadfully regretted all the actions that had brought him broken to this place in his life.

“Hello?” a kindly elderly woman said to him. “Are you hurt?”

He looked into the gentle blue eyes of a woman who had to be eighty years old. “I think so, ma’am. But I swear, your daughter had nothing to do with it.”

She smiled. “I should think not. Come in and lie down next to Chester.”

He hoped Chester was a very still, very plump pillow, but it turned out to be a large, old yellow dog on the sofa. Across from the sofa was a recliner, and an elderly gentleman raised an arm at Last.

“Don’t mind Chester,” he said. “He won’t mind you.”

Last wouldn’t have minded a pig at this moment. Sinking onto the sofa, he laid his head back, gasping as he stared at the ceiling.

“Where did you find him, dear?” the mother asked the daughter. “Did he take over the lion tamer’s position prematurely?”

“Not exactly,” Esme replied. “Let me get the
children out of the truck and put them to bed. We may have to spend the night, Mom.”

“Fine, fine. I have plenty of eggs for breakfast. Young man, do you like bacon?”

“His name is Last, Mom.”

“Last?” She sounded confused, and Last was too tired to explain. “All right. Do you like bacon, Last?”

“I would really like an aspirin, ma’am,” he said, before saying,
“Timber!”
and crashing face-first into the elderly dog’s pillow.

“That’s right, Chester, you take good care of him,” Last heard Esme’s father say before he finally gave up to the sleep that wanted to claim him. He had to. He’d fallen into the circus of hell, and clearly there would be no rescue or safety net for this cowboy.

E
SME STARED DOWN
at Last, not quite sure what to do with him. Her parents had gone to bed. The children were tucked in. Chester had given up the sofa to the flailing cowboy. She folded her arms, wondering why Last was so dead set against seeing a doctor. She was pretty certain he needed one, the big goon.

Bending down to get close to his face, she touched his forehead. “That’s what you get for trying to save everything, you big silly.”

He didn’t move. Poppy studied his face, glad to be able to do it when he wasn’t piercing her with those watchful eyes of his. “Maybe you have a record,” she said, moving his hair away from his face. “That would be one reason you wouldn’t want to be seen. Which would also make you bad for me. Worse than you already are.”

A steel hand reached out, grabbing her wrist. “I have no record,” Last said. “I am very good for you, and you should be grateful.”

To her shock, he pulled her on top of him. She was so surprised she stared down at him, an inch from his face.

“Now let’s see who’s bad for whom,” he said, kissing her deeply, his hands framing her face as he held her captive. Over and over he kissed her, his lips firm and demanding and so practiced that she gave herself over to the wonderful feeling of being kissed by this stranger who didn’t wear fur or a too-tall hat. His hands sneaked down to her bottom, slipping into the pockets of the clam diggers she wore, holding her tightly against him.

“I think you’re bad for me,” he said. “I’m certain of it.”

“I think you’re worse,” she told him, holding his face so that she could kiss him some more. Good
heavens, a woman should be kissed like this at least once a week! It was more than magic; she felt sprinkles and stardust and all the accoutrements of the fairy-tale land she’d spoken of but never experienced.

“I may be worse, but your kisses make me feel better than an aspirin.” He rolled her beneath him. “Make me feel even better.”

He was making her feel more than she ever had, so Poppy complied, winding her arms around him as he lay full-length against her. There was hardness against her from top to bottom and something much more in the middle, making her eyes water from the pleasure of knowing that this man wanted her that way.

“We’re bad for each other,” he reminded her.

“I know,” she replied.

“I like it,” he said.

“I’m certain I do, too.” She desperately wanted to pull his pants off and check out the rest of him, though his mouth was quite a wonderful place to start.

“I keep telling myself that I should have learned my lesson by now.”

“Pfft,” Poppy said. “You talk a big game, but I’m not listening.”

“That’s your problem.” He sneaked a hand
inside her shirt, caressing her stomach. “I find your truculence annoying. And somehow stimulating.”

“I find your cockiness disturbing. And somehow attractive.”

“Aren’t we a pair then?” Lazily he ran a hand to the small of her back.

She hummed in pleasure—until common sense tried to reassert itself. “Now that I think about it, how do I know you’re even who you say you are? I should stay right here with my parents.”

“You should,” Last agreed. “But this is a very small house for two growing children. Your parents seem a bit tired to take on two grandchildren and a daughter who should have been out of the nest a
long
time ago.” He clucked at her. “You would be a burden.”

“You are an ass,” she replied. “I give my parents money to live on. They are not burdened by me.”

“Glad to hear that you’re responsible.” Last bit her neck, gently cupping her fanny at the same time. “Guess you just have to prove it to the judge.”

“That’s where you come in.”

“And what do I get out of the matter?”

“Nothing,” she said, “because you have hero tendencies. Saving small, blubbery things from being beached by life.”

He pushed against her, making her quite aware of his desire for her. “I do not want to save you. I’m only taking you with me because of your children. I’ve always liked children. Twenty women came to our ranch one day and one of them—Annabelle—had a little baby. I saw that adorable baby and I knew right then and there that Malfunction Junction needed lots of children. And I was right. My job there is done, as my brothers have populated our ranch so that now even Christmases without our mother or our father are happy occasions.”

“And you even have your own child.”

“Yes,” he said softly, “but she was a surprise. You and yours I have taken on willingly.”

Her breath caught. “Why?”

“You said it yourself. Small, blubbery things,” he said, nipping at her lips. “Helpless and cute.”

“I am not helpless,” Poppy said. “Only in poor circumstances.”

“Still, you need me.”