The Rancher And The RunawayBride: Part 2 (5 page)

“Who keeps you out of trouble now?” she asked, her voice teasing.

“I’ve outgrown the need to find trouble.”

“Oh? You talk like you’re an old man yourself.”

“I am.”

She thought about his bare chest and supple muscles. “Brady, you’re not much older
than I.”

“Nine years. It’s enough.”

She pushed her wineglass away. Until that moment, she’d been enjoying the conversation.
“So in addition to being one of your strays, I’m also a child?” she asked, then wanted
to call the words back. Even
she
had heard the hurt in her voice. But she couldn’t help it. She’d wanted to be more
than just someone he’d taken in—she’d wanted to be an individual. Special, as Tex
had said. Obviously the cook had been wrong.

Brady frowned. “What are you talking about? What strays?”

She folded her arms over her chest. “All of us. You collect human strays the way Princess
collects cats. Tex, Ziggy, Ty, even me.”

His expression tightened. “I was raised to believe everyone deserves a second chance.
If you have a complaint about that, you’ll need to take it up with my folks.” He pushed
his chair back, stood up and left the room. Seconds later, the front door opened,
then closed as he walked outside.

Randi stared after him. From the stiff set of his shoulders it was obvious she’d insulted
him. That wasn’t what she’d meant at all. Quite the opposite.

She followed him outside. Princess still lay on her blanket. Randi paused to pet her
and the few cats sleeping next to her, then straightened and looked at Brady.

He stood on the edge of the porch, facing the barn. He must have heard her join him,
but he didn’t say anything. She wondered what she could do to make it right between
them. He was the last person she wanted angry with her.

Darkness surrounded them. Overhead, stars twinkled in the heavens. The heat had disappeared
with the sun, leaving the temperature pleasant.

Slowly, she walked toward him, stopping less than a foot away. She wanted to lean
against his strength, absorbing some of it for herself. Maybe that was the problem—she
wasn’t capable of making it on her own. Why did she always have to depend on someone
else? Why wasn’t her own counsel, her own company, enough?

Yet she knew this was different. In the past she’d wanted to lean on her father or
her brother because she didn’t want to face her problems or deal with her life. This
time she wanted to lean on Brady because she had a hunch she would find something
magical in his arms. His strength would become a part of her, and her strength—surely
she had some—would flow into him.

She raised her hand to touch him, but instead of resting her fingers on his back,
she curled them toward her palm and dropped her arm to her side. She was just one
of the strays. Touching wasn’t allowed.

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” she said.

He shrugged without turning around. “I’m not a fool,” he told her. “I don’t hire everyone
who shows up. If I think they have what it takes, I give them a chance. In return
I get loyalty and hard work.”

“I’ve learned that firsthand. I appreciate that you gave me a chance. I didn’t say
it right, probably because it’s hard for me to see myself as just another stray. My
lifestyle has taken a turn for the worst in the past couple of months. In a way, that’s
sort of humbling. So I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable. I guess the real message
is that I admire you and what you’ve done here.”

Brady grimaced. Admiration. He knew what that was like. He’d been on the giving and
receiving end of it. Hero worship. Rita didn’t want to be another stray, and he didn’t
want to be a hero.

But he couldn’t tell her that, just as he couldn’t tell her that he’d left the table,
not because he’d been insulted, but because her description of him had hit too close
to home. He did make it a habit of taking in strays, but that wasn’t how he saw her.

Even though she was an employee, even though he knew better, he wanted her. In his
bed and in his life. Both were dangerous, the latter very close to deadly. He knew
the risks involved. He knew how bad the heartache could be. He’d been down that road
before. Yet something about Rita made him want to try again. Something made him dream
about her, want her, need her in the most fundamentally, soul-stirring way.

“Brady, I…” Her voice faltered.

He didn’t dare turn around. He didn’t want to know what she was thinking right now.
Something that would remind him he was just an old cowboy with a thing for a young
woman who wouldn’t look at him twice on a bet.

Facing the barn, trying desperately to ignore her, he reminded himself it was for
the best. When she was ready to move on, he would let her go. That’s how these things
happened.

Despite his intense effort not to notice, the scent of her shampoo teased him. He
could feel her presence right behind him and knew she was close…close enough to touch.

“There aren’t many old-fashioned gentlemen left,” she said. “You’re one of the good
guys.”

Involuntarily, he spun toward her. “I’m not a gentleman,” he said through gritted
teeth. “I’m not a good guy. I’m just a man, like every other man. I have flaws, and
you better get your butt to your room before you witness one of mine.”

Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Dammit, Rita. Don’t make me spell it out.”

Her blue eyes were nearly black in the porch light. “You’re going to have to. I apologized.
Isn’t that enough?”

“It’s not about what you said, it’s about what I want. Go home, little girl. Run away
and play.”

She raised her chin. “I’m not a child. I’m a grown woman. Stop treating me like your
little sister.”

“It beats the alternative.”

“What does that mean?”

“You still don’t get it?”

She shook her head.

She didn’t have a clue. If he hadn’t been so furious and frustrated, he might have
laughed. As it was, something inside snapped from the pressure. He glared at her.
“Then, let me explain it. I’m not a good guy at all. You drive me crazy. Every damn
day you’re out here in your jeans and your T-shirts, flaunting curves that—” He curled
his hands into fists as words deserted him. “I know it’s wrong. That’s not the problem.
I can’t seem to resist your jokes, your laughter, your quick mind. I want you naked
in my bed. I don’t think that qualifies me as a gentleman, do you?”

Her mouth dropped open. “You think I’m attractive?”

“That’s all you got from that? What the hell do you think I’ve been talking about?”

“I don’t know. I’m not pretty.”

He closed his eyes and groaned. “Yeah, right.”

“Brady, I—”

He cut her off. He knew what she was going to say, and he didn’t want to hear. He
didn’t want to be let down easy. “Just go inside, Rita. Go to your room and leave
me alone. I won’t mention this again. You don’t have to worry that I’m going to embarrass
you or inflict myself on you.”

“I wasn’t worried about that at all.”

He looked at her. Her blue eyes had widened and her cheeks looked flushed, but she
wasn’t angry and she wasn’t leaving.

“I told you to go inside.”

“And if I don’t?”

Her unexpected response slammed into him like a runaway steer. He nearly staggered.
“I don’t have a whole lot of self-control left. I want to kiss you. I want to do a
whole lot more, but I’m willing to settle for that. So if you don’t run away, I won’t
be able to resist.”

She smiled. “Gee, Brady, a clear warning like that and you say you’re not a gentleman.
I’d say you’re the best kind.” Then she raised herself up on tiptoes and pressed her
mouth to his.

He was so shocked by her actions that it took him nearly two heartbeats to register
what was going on. Her fingertips lay lightly on his shoulder; her body was inches
from his. He could feel her heat, inhale her scent, and against his mouth was the
sweetest, tenderest, most arousing touch he’d ever experienced.

Pleasure exploded. He wrapped his arms around her and hauled her hard against him.
She melted into his body, her curves flowing over his hard planes, her arms embracing
his neck, her thighs teasing his.

Every point of contact ignited its own fire. He raised one hand to her head and buried
his fingers in her thick curls. With his other hand he followed her spine to her waist,
then slipped to the side to cup the swell of her hip. She was built for a man to love—strong,
round, supple.

He tilted his head and moved his mouth against hers. Her lips parted and he licked
at the open seam. A soft whimper escaped her throat. The sound bore into his chest,
feeding an already out-of-control need, sending hot blood coursing through his body.
He was hard and aching in seconds.

Randi clutched at Brady, wondering what on earth was happening between them. She’d
been kissed before. She’d even made love a couple of times with her college boyfriend.
The experience had been pleasant, but it hadn’t prepared her to go up in flames. She
liked Brady and admired his body, but she hadn’t known he could arouse her with just
a kiss.

As his tongue swept into her mouth, her legs began to tremble. The rippling in her
thighs made it difficult to stay upright. She had to lean against him to maintain
her balance.

He teased the tip of her tongue with his, then circled hers, igniting explosions of
intense pleasure in her breasts and between her legs. She was already damp. She could
feel the heat and the wanting that was as much an ache as a throb. Her breasts swelled,
the nipples tightening until she had to press against his chest to try and ease the
pressure.

As she clung to him, she remembered his words and the picture he’d painted of her
in his bed. She wanted to be there—wanted it more than she’d ever wanted anything
in her life.

He cupped her face in his hands, his fingers stroked her cheeks. The tenderness in
the gesture was as perfect as his mouth against hers. He broke the kiss and gazed
at her. She wondered if she looked as aroused as he did.

“Wow,” he said, and smiled.

“Yeah. That’s what I was thinking.” She giggled softly.

“So you’re not offended?”

She reached up and brushed her thumb across his mouth, then shook her head. “Hardly.
Intrigued. Surprised, but not offended.”

“I’m glad.” He lowered his head and pressed his lips to the side of her neck. Warm,
damp kisses slipped down to her T-shirt. His hands rested on her shoulders. One moved
lower, drifting toward her breast. She held her breath in anticipation.

He cupped the curve gently, almost reverently. She exhaled as intense pleasure filled
her. Long, strong fingers stroked her and his thumb brushed over her taut nipple.
She clutched at him and sighed.

“Sweet Rita,” he murmured against her neck.

It was as if he’d dumped a bucket of cold water over her. She stiffened and stared
in horror.

He raised his head and looked at her. “Rita? What’s wrong?”

He’d said it again.
Rita
. But that wasn’t her name. Rita was a lie, just as her life was a lie. She was Randi
Howell, runaway bride.

He shook her gently. “What is it?”

“I—” She swallowed as tears suddenly formed. “Nothing. I can’t—”

She broke away. She couldn’t do this to him. Not to Brady, who
really
was one of the good guys. He deserved something so much better.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and did what she should have done the first time he mentioned
kissing. She turned on her heel and ran to her room.

Brady paced the length of the kitchen, paused, then walked back. Once there, he glanced
at the digital clock on the microwave. It was 3:58. Rita was due downstairs any minute.
He’d already started the coffee for her, and he’d rehearsed what he planned to say
a thousand times.

At least he hadn’t had to worry about waking up on time. As it was, he’d barely slept
last night. Between reliving the powerful kiss they’d shared and wrestling with guilt,
there hadn’t been much time for dozing off.

He heard footsteps on the stairs and turned quickly to face the doorway. A shadow
moved through the darkness. There was a click and light flooded the kitchen. Rita
saw him and jumped back.

She touched a hand to her chest. “Brady! You gave me a start. What are you doing up?”

She was dressed for work, dressed as he always saw her, in jeans and T-shirt. Her
hair was neatly braided, her face freshly washed. As he gazed at her, something flickered
in her eyes. His heart sank. She was cautious because she expected him to attack her
again. How could he have done that to her?

He drew in a deep breath. “About last night,” he began, and shoved his hands in his
pockets. “Look. I’m sorry. I feel awful about what happened. You work for me, and
as your employer, I shouldn’t have put you in a position that makes you feel uncomfortable.
I’ve never done anything like that before. I’ve never said those things. I don’t know
what got into me.”

“It’s okay,” she said softly.

“No, it’s not. As I told you from the start, I wanted you to live here in the main
house so you would feel safe. And here I am, the first guy to break the rules about
leaving you alone.” He cleared his throat. “I want you to know that I was completely
in the wrong, and that it will never happen again.”

Her blue eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled. “That was quite an apology. Thank
you. I have just one question.”

“What’s that?”

“Were you awake all night beating yourself up about our kiss?”

Embarrassment burned hot. He averted his face and tried to look casual. “Not exactly.”

“Just as I thought. One of the good guys.” She crossed to the coffeepot and poured
herself a cup. After taking a sip, she looked at him. “Okay, Brady, if you can bare
your soul, I guess I can bare mine. Don’t give this matter another moment’s thought.
You didn’t force me to do anything against my will. I liked kissing you. I don’t think
it was especially smart, or something we should pursue right now. Neither of us is
in a position to deal with the ramifications of taking things further, so it might
be better if we just backed off for a while. Sound reasonable?”

He was too shocked to speak, so he just nodded. She flashed him another smile. “Good.”

With that she walked to the back door and left. He stared after her. She wasn’t angry.
He’d convinced himself she would either be furious or incredibly hurt. Instead, she’d
calmly admitted he hadn’t forced her. She’d wanted to kiss him. She’d
liked
kissing him.

He felt himself grin and knew he would be grinning like a fool the whole day. She’d
liked kissing him. Hot damn.

* * *

The barn dance fulfilled every city slicker cliché Randi had expected-and she loved
it. The lodge in town was tacky and old, with dusty animal heads on the walls. The
band consisted of several retired men and one woman on keyboard. They played country
favorites with a rhythm that had nothing to do with what the songwriters had originally
intended.

Conversation and laughter swirled around as wildly as the dancers. She watched two
teenage boys spike the punch. When the preacher caught them, he actually grabbed them
by their ears to pull them outside. She wasn’t sure if she’d gone back in time, or
had been caught up in a location shoot for a television movie-of-the-week.

This happy occasion was as different from the formal dances she was used to as filet
mignon was from five-alarm chili. She’d always liked chili dogs, and now she knew
why.

The people here were actually having fun. Couples smiled while they danced, children
dashed around the edges of the room playing elaborate games of tag. Old ladies sat
in straight-backed chairs and gossiped. New mothers showed off babies. Her mother
had wanted her to be a debutante, but this was much more her style. Her dress cost
less than her mother’s overpriced face powder, yet she felt, if not attractive, then
at least average enough to fit in.

Randi smiled. One of these days she was going to have to work on her self-confidence.
Although, referring to herself as “average enough” was better than her description
of “hideous”—as she’d thought in high school. She owed a little of that improvement
to Brady. Three days later she still remembered every word of his declaration—his
wonderful, exciting statements about wanting her. Just thinking about that night made
her skin break out in goose bumps. Their kiss had been—She shook her head. Their kiss
was something she was trying not to think about, remember? It had been a wonderful
experience and something best forgotten. There was no room for her in Brady’s life,
and wishing for the moon would only make her unhappy.

Still, she couldn’t help recalling his sweet apology the next morning. Had anyone
ever cared so much about her feelings? Had any other man been as concerned that she
felt comfortable and safe? If she wasn’t so sure she was moving on, she might be tempted
to—“Penny for your thoughts?”

She glanced up and saw Ty standing next to her. The darkly handsome cowboy raised
his eyebrows expectantly. Randi flushed.

“They’re not for sale. Sorry.”

“Too bad. They looked interesting. Want to dance?”

“Sure.”

She stepped into his arms. In the first hour she’d danced with everyone from the ranch
except for Ty and Brady. Even Tex had taken her on a quick turn around the floor,
all the while making her laugh with incredible tales about his life in the marines.

There wasn’t a shortage of women, so she figured the guys were trying to make her
feel comfortable. “Is there a conspiracy?” she asked.

“About what?”

“Everyone has danced with me. Are you guys trying to keep me from being a wallflower?”

“No conspiracy. Maybe we just like you and want to dance with you.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I doubt that.”

“So if I told you that you looked nice, you would dismiss the compliment?”

She glanced down at the simple blue floral print cotton dress she wore. Cap sleeves
showed off her tanned arms. The garment skimmed over her waist and hips, then flared
out slightly to her knees. “I think I look okay.”

“Was that a thank you?”

Before she could answer, he led her through an intricate series of steps that left
her stumbling and breathless. She laughed. “So you’re trying to show me up?”

“I would have thought a city girl like you had taken dancing lessons.”

“Really? What makes you think I’m a city girl?”

“Aren’t you?” For the first time since she’d met him, Ty smiled. The faintly dangerous
expression he normally wore faded slightly. He wasn’t just good-looking. When he smiled
he was about the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.

She tried to remember what she knew about Ty. It was pretty close to nothing. He was
good on the ranch, a natural leader. When Brady had a couple of crews working, Ty
was always in charge of the second group. He was bright, capable, and she suspected
he had a degree. What on earth was he doing stuck on Brady’s ranch?

His hold tightened slightly, warning her of more complicated steps. She concentrated
and managed to keep up as he wove them through the other dancers.

She took a shot in the dark. “What’s her name?” she asked.

“Who?”

“The woman who taught you to dance?”

The smile faded as if it had never been, his mouth straightened and already dark eyes
turned black with pain. “Denise.”

There was something about the way he said the name. As if it had cost him plenty to
form the single word.

“I’m sorry,” Randi said quickly. “I shouldn’t have—” She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “No big deal.”

But she knew it was. She’d been teasing him and had inadvertently bumped into an open
wound. A thousand questions filled her mind. Who was this mysterious Denise? Why wasn’t
he with her? What had happened? How long had he loved her?

Randi suspected it had been for a very long time. What would it be like to be loved
that much?

The song faded, then another one began. She recognized it, although she didn’t recall
the title. Something about an old flame burning bright. Ty winced visibly and dropped
his hands to his side.

“Thanks for the dance,” he mumbled, and left the floor.

Randi watched him go. She wanted to run after him and apologize, but it was too late
for that. Talk about blowing it.

She moved to the edge of the dance floor and glanced at the crowd. Families and friends
chatted together. For the first time since arriving, she felt out of place. Suddenly
that old phrase—alone in a crowd—made sense to her.

She was a long way from home, and she had a sneaking suspicion that no one in Grand
Springs was missing her tonight. Certainly not Hal. In the past couple of weeks she’d
decided they hadn’t even been friends, let alone in love.

“May I?”

She didn’t have to look at the speaker to know he was Brady. She shivered in anticipation,
then turned toward him. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself.”

He took her in his arms. She tried not to notice how every nerve cell in her body
instantly went on alert. It wasn’t fair. She’d danced with nearly a dozen men tonight.
Some of them, like Ty, had been very good-looking. Most had been charming. And not
one of them had made her feel the way Brady did.

He held her gently, not pulling her too close. Which almost made her laugh, because
she would enjoy being hauled up against his chest. She would even like being kissed
senselessly. Was he thinking about that, too? Was he remembering their kiss, the passion
flaring between them, the heat, the—“What do you think of our country dance?” he asked.

Her fantasies popped like a balloon pricked by a needle. So much for him remembering
anything about that night.

“It’s fun,” she said. “Everyone has been really nice. The guys have all danced with
me. I tried to get Ty to admit there was a conspiracy, but he denied it.”

“There isn’t as far as I know.” He smiled. “Dancing with you is hardly tough duty.”

She looked up at the dimple in his left cheek and thought about swooning. Unfortunately,
she’d never swooned in her life and didn’t know how to go about doing it. She suspected
Brady wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. If the man had a single clue as to what he
did to her he would take off for the hills.

A couple in their early sixties moved next to them. The wife asked Brady about his
parents. He answered, then the older couple moved off.

“This is very different from where I grew up,” she said. “I had dance lessons for
three years and I hated every one of them. The only way my mom got me to go was to
promise me I could spend two hours riding my horse for every hour I went to dance
class.” She frowned. “All those uncomfortable silences when we were dancing. Twelve-
and thirteen-year-old boys aren’t exactly thrilled about the experience, either. At
least we had that in common.”

“So you were part of the upper crust of society?” he asked, his voice teasing.

“Not exactly. Our town wasn’t big enough to have a crust, although my mother is constantly
in search of one. My dad—” She stopped, remembering her father and missing him. “He
was great. I was a daddy’s girl, of course.”

Brown eyes twinkled at her. “Of course.”

The song ended and another began. Brady didn’t release her and she didn’t indicate
she wanted to be let go. If it were up to her, she would spend the night in his arms.

“My father always believed in me, no matter how much I messed things up.”

“That’s what fathers do,” he said.

“I know, and mine was one of the best. The only bad part was, he never made me try
to fix things on my own. I learned to depend on him to always get me out of trouble.
That works great when you’re ten, but it’s a less attractive trait at twenty.”

Music and laughter surrounded them. They turned and the room spun. Randi wondered
if it was safe to talk about her past like this. But it had been so long since she’d
had someone to talk to. Especially someone she liked and respected. She knew she could
trust Brady. Besides, she wasn’t telling him anything that would allow him to locate
her family.

“My mother was completely different,” she went on. “She saw me as her burden in life.
A daughter who was a tomboy and completely uninterested in doing the socially correct
thing.”

“You have a brother, right?”

“You remembered.” She smiled. “Noah. He’s wonderful. A doctor. Handsome, charming.
Everything I’m not. I suppose I should hate him, but I don’t. When Dad died, Noah
was really there for me.”

Brady’s hand tightened on her waist, drawing her closer. She went willingly. His embrace
comforted, as did his strength.

“You miss your father.”

“All the time. I want to make him proud of me.”

“He already is.”

Randi wasn’t so sure. Her father wouldn’t be proud of the way she’d handled things
with Hal. One of these days she was going to have to make some decisions about that
situation. She couldn’t hide out forever. She would have to go back and explain things.
But what about the men with those guns? Were they still after her? Why had they threatened
her in the first place? What—Brady shook her gently. “Rita, come back to me.”

“Huh? Oh.” She’d been a thousand smiles away…or at least a few hundred. “Sorry.”

“Let me guess. You were thinking about another guy, right?”

Randi stumbled a step. “Not really.”