The Cowboy's Gamble: Destined For Love Series (15 page)

When he’d told Josie of his plans that morning at breakfast, she didn’t seem pleased that he’d be underfoot and invading her personal space in the office. He felt no guilt over crowding her business-wise; they had a ranch to run, and he knew at least in that area he’d get more cooperation from her than he had in the bedroom.

She had the Golden M’s best interests at heart, and wasn’t the type to let any of the daily business slip by her. She’d shared the financial information with him when he asked, even went over schedules, sales and other accounts, but she did it all in a very efficient, professional manner.

He could have been dealing with a stranger, rather than his own wife, for all the emotion she’d exhibited.

Seth shook his head in frustration and gripped the steering wheel, irritated that one particular woman had the ability to tie him up in knots—not that he’d ever let his exasperation show in front of her.

It was three days into the following week and his bride was no warmer than she’d been on their wedding night. Oh, she was polite enough when they were in the same room with one another, or when a particular need or subject forced them into conversation, but she didn’t go out of her way to be gracious.

The days out on the ranch with the hands flew by with incredible speed; the nights were endless and frustrating. He hadn’t attempted to make love to Josie again, and his bride didn’t seem inclined to instigate any intimacy, either.

They were at a stalemate.

As much as he’d scoffed at Mac’s suggestion on Sunday to woo Josie, Seth was seriously beginning to ponder the merits of courting rituals. If a few romantic gestures eased his strained relationship with Josie, then maybe it was worth taking the extra time and care to make her feel special.

He mulled over his conversation with the foreman as he cruised by the main shops in town. In a more rational mood than he’d been on Sunday, he was better able to analyze Mac’s not-so-absurd idea.

Maybe, just maybe, he’d come on too strong on their wedding night and expected too much, too soon. Women were inclined to be sentimental about their first night with their husband, and he supposed, past the uninterested act she’d put on, Josie was no different. In fact, remembering back to their time together, he recalled her enjoying the simpler things, nonsensical, things, really . . . like a walk in the woods, frolicking in the creek, or picking berries and feeding them to him . . .

Seth tried not to think of those memories, because those sweeter times with Josie conflicted with her deception. And if he intended to make this marriage work, there was no room for past resentments to get in the way of their new relationship. They’d both grown and changed over the years, matured into adults who possibly shared a certain amount of regret for what happened eleven years ago.

He knew he regretted the way he’d handled the situation.

And now, he hadn’t taken Josie’s feelings into account. She’d been thrust into their predicament so suddenly, without warning or enough time to adjust to the idea of becoming his wife. Was it really fair of him to expect her to be warm and willing without giving her any reason to?

It wasn’t the sex that was so important, but the bonding and intimacy that came with making love. He and Josie needed to establish that link in order to make a good, solid marriage. And in order to make it good in bed, he needed to gain her trust.

He needed to woo his stubborn filly.

Glancing into his rear-view mirror and scanning the businesses lining the sidewalks on either side behind him, he made a spontaneous decision that had him making an illegal U-turn in the middle of the two-way street.

He was going to buy his wife some flowers.

Josie heard Seth’s truck pull into the drive, and continued the steady, boring task of filing paid invoices in the metal cabinet next to her desk. He’d been gone most of the afternoon, thank goodness, giving her a brief reprieve from his wholly male presence that had dominated her small office that morning.

She couldn’t concentrate on her work when he was near, and preferred the days when he stayed out and tended to the physical tasks on the ranch. According to his grand plan to split his time between the actual operation of the Golden M, as well as the business and paperwork end, it was obvious that she was going to be spending more time with Seth than she cared to. She wondered how she’d survive. Her office was confined in space, yet set up to be efficient, for one person to maneuver around in. Not two, as the time they’d spent together this morning had proved. The accidental way he’d brush by her, the way he’d lean close to get a better view of what she was working on, and the way he spoke in a lazy, sexy drawl, all combined to incite a sizzling awareness that made her feel like a young school girl again.

She heard him get out of the truck and his boots crunch on the gravel outside, then echo within the stable and down the corridor to her office. Her heartbeat accelerated, and she resolutely told herself that she
was not
eager to see her husband.

Shaking off the hum of anticipation warming her blood, she stuffed a paid bill from Pete’s into the appropriate file and picked up a statement from the veterinarian. It was getting more and more difficult to remain aloof to Seth, mainly because he no longer took her indifference personally. Or if he did, he didn’t show it in front of her. He acted as though there was no dissension between them, when the past, present and future was tangled in discord. His nice, pleasant behavior totally threw her off-kilter.

She heard him pause at the open office door, and the hairs at the back of her neck tingled, and her skin suddenly felt too tight beneath her soft faded jeans and plaid cotton blouse. The awakening of her feminine senses was immediate, disturbing, and thrilling in a way that was dangerous.

She resumed filing, and waited for him to say something or walk into the office. Seconds seem to tick by, and then he knocked on the frame, a light rapping of his knuckles against wood. She frowned, instantly suspicious—Seth never knocked.

Determined to maintain her bland, detached attitude, she didn’t turn around. “You must have purchased some manners while you were in town,” she couldn’t resist commenting off-handedly.

His amused chuckle was rich and deep and filled the room with warm, masculine tones. “The manners came free of charge with the flowers I bought for my bride.”

Certain she’d misheard Seth, she frowned and turned around to face him. “Excuse me?”

He stepped into the office and strolled toward her, carrying in the crook of his arm an arrangement of long-stemmed white roses, baby’s breath, and delicate fern all tied together with a frilly white bow. Reaching her, he held the beautiful bouquet for her to take.

Her mouth went dry, and she gawked from the glorious offering, to his amused expression, and back to the floral display.

He tilted his head, a smile teasing his mouth. “What’s the matter? You don’t like roses?”

Snapping out of her shock, she took the bouquet, cradling the precious flowers in her arms so she didn’t crush any of them. Pleasure rippled through her, as sweet and heady as the fragrance she inhaled. A burning sensation prick her eyes, and she knew she was close to making a fool of herself over something as stupid as roses.

She’d never, ever received flowers before.

“What are these for?” she blurted, refusing to let her emotions got the best of her.

“You,” he said simply.

“Why?” She couldn’t help the suspicion in her tone, or the slight narrowing of her eyes.

He merely grinned. “Because Mary Jo at the florist looked like she could use some business today, and I felt sorry for her.”

She gave into temptation and touched a rose petal, marveling at the silky texture. “They do look like they cost a small fortune.”

“Cost wasn’t a factor.”

How could such an ordinary statement make her feel so cherished, so special? Her throat tightened with more emotion, and she swallowed it back. Dammit, she didn’t want him to be nice to her! She had no defenses when he was being so sentimental and charming.

He tipped his hat back on his head, blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, when a husband gives his wife flowers, doesn’t he at least get a kiss in return?”

His request startled her, heating her cheeks, exciting her on levels she didn’t want to acknowledge. “A bribe?” she asked in an affronted tone, playing along with his cat and mouse game. “Is that what this is all about?”

“It’s about you and me, and courting my bride.”

Her pulse raced at the dare in his eyes. Her belly clenched at the prospect of kissing him . . . because she suddenly wanted that and much more. Rising on tip-toe, she leaned toward him and gave him a tentative, chaste kiss on the cheek. The deed was done and over with in less than a heartbeat.

“Is that the best you can do?” he drawled, his voice taunting and husky at the same time.

All she had to do was say “yes” to end their game, but the word wouldn’t come. She’d been aching for him since their wedding night, and she suddenly didn’t want to deny herself something she wanted so badly.

She wanted to kiss her husband.

He didn’t make it easy on her. Didn’t angle his head or bend a little so she didn’t have to strain up to meet his lips. A tad annoyed with his uncooperativeness—which ironically reminded her of her own lack of participation on their wedding night—she shifted the roses in her arm so they didn’t get crushed, and moved closer, until her body brushed his.

An arm slid around her back, gentle, supportive, and in no way demanding. He cradled her tenderly, careful of the bouquet, careful of her.

He waited for her to initiate the kiss, his eyes dark and hooded. Heart pounding erratically, she slid her free hand around to the nape of his neck, lifting her mouth while pulling his head down to hers.

Their lips met, warm and soft, sliding sinuously, gradually parting for a deeper taste. She took what he offered, coaxing him to participate, and when he did she gave to him freely, without reservation.

Hunger exploded between them, and she arched closer, opening her mouth wider beneath his. He groaned low in his throat. The kiss turned very passionate very quickly, both of them meeting the other halfway, like a kiss should be. It was a ravenous kiss that changed all the rules she’d established for herself, for them . . . an insatiable kiss that melted her resistance and set her on fire with a need that was as startling as it was arousing.

And Josie knew in that moment that she could never go back to being cold and unresponsive. The possessive look glimmering in his eyes when they finally ended the kiss told her he knew that, too.

“I, um, thank you,” she said breathlessly, her entire body tingling from their kiss and his thoughtful gesture.

He dabbed his tongue on his bottom lip, as if savoring the taste of her still lingering there. “For the flowers or the kiss?”

She surprised herself by saying, “For both.”

“You’re welcome, Josie, darlin’,” he drawled huskily. A grin curved his lips and lit up his eyes, and something magical happened between them in that moment. “For both.”

Seth’s attentiveness didn’t end with the flowers. The next two days were filled with fleeting touches that brought Josie to a fever pitch but ultimately left her wanting. And the slow, heated glances he cast her way were designed to make a woman weak in the knees.

It certainly did the trick on her.

Seth was infinitely kind and considerate, playful and irresistibly engaging. Unable to ignore his charming attempts to forge a truce, Josie found herself responding in a similar fashion, and the end result was a tentative building of friendship and trust between them.

They worked in harmony down in the office, and up at the house they’d struck an accord, too. Watching him tease Kellie while they ate their meals, hearing their laughter mingle, was enough to give any outsider the illusion that they were a happy family. But Josie knew the problems between her and Seth were merely put aside in deference to making the best of their situation, but certainly not forgotten or resolved.

They slept in the same bed every night, her donning flannel, and him immodestly stripping down to nothing but a glorious body honed by hard, physical work. The only thing he asked of her was a kiss good night, nothing more. But oh, what a kiss it was—seemingly longer, deeper, more seductive than the previous night’s.