Destiny Wears Spurs (3 page)

“Let’s get you back to your cabin, okay?” He glanced at her nightgown again and swallowed. The flimsy lingerie danced around her curves, which weren’t hidden well in the see-through fabric. But after the outfit she’d had on earlier, nothing this lady wore would surprise him.

“Nat always said it would hit me right between the eyes when I least expected it.” The woman touched her nose and then grimaced. “I didn’t think she meant literally.”

“Is that so?” He scooped her carefully in his arms.

“I must be dreaming. The guys I date never look like you; not that I date much. I’m no good at it, you know.” She sighed as her eyelashes fluttered closed. “Gray eyes. They suit you.”

“Really, now.” She didn’t make any sense, but all he could think about was how good she felt in his arms and how sexy her breathy voice sounded. She turned him inside out, and that hadn’t happened in a long time. Too long. He had to get her out of here, fast.

“Yeehaw, cowboy, take me home. I feel like ridin’.” Her voice trailed off, and a soft snore escaped. Sound asleep, thank God.

He glanced down. Every delicious curve of her body lay pliant against him. The outline of firm breasts with dusky nipples strained against the sheer material of her nightgown. No doubt about it, he was a dead man. He could hardly walk.

Down, boy.
His body ignored him, so he shifted her to a position with the least amount of contact and ascended the hill. “Little lady, you are nothing but trouble.” She’d wake with one hell of a headache in a matter of minutes, and he didn’t want to be caught saluting her when it happened.

Cody glanced up as he reached the dude cabins, but only one had a light on with the door ajar. Guessing it to be hers, he peeked in the window. Vacant. He slipped inside, shut the door, and laid the sleeping woman on the bed. She stirred, so he took his cue to leave, lifting her eyelids first to make sure she didn’t have a concussion. Relief washed over him.

“Yep, those big doe eyes still have equal-sized pupils. You’ll live, angel lady.” His mind said go. His boots stuck like glue.

He’d gone plumb crazy. He knew he could be intimidating, but even in her semi-conscious state, she’d been bold as brass. He liked that. He liked her. But after his mess of a marriage, he wasn’t about to get involved in another relationship anytime soon. Especially not with a petite city woman, who had birdlike bones and weighed less than his damn saddle.

“I’m not the one for you, sweetheart,” he whispered hoarsely, stroking her jaw, and regret swamped him. Jesus, he
had
gone crazy. He handled emotion the way he always did, by tossing it behind the wall where he hid his feelings. He couldn’t afford feelings any more than he could afford to play along with this ridiculous charade, but he didn’t have a choice where either was concerned.

“Studly?” she said, her eyes still closed. “I want Studly.”

“Shhh. Studly wants you too.” Boy did he ever, but it wasn’t gonna happen. “Go back to sleep. Studly had to leave.” Cody tucked the blankets around her and then forced himself to do just that. If he were smart, he’d never come back.

Problem was, he’d never been that smart.

CHAPTER TWO

“What a dream.” Monica yawned and stretched. Big hunky cowboy. Deep voice. Bedroom eyes. A body that made her want to go dirty dancing. She shivered, her own body reacting to the mere thought of him. “Get a hold of yourself, Mo.”

Rubbing her head, she winced. She had a whopper of a headache this morning, and a nose the size of Pinocchio’s. She must have banged it on the headboard last night when she was riding ... well, put it this way, she hadn’t been riding a horse. Good God, what was the matter with her? She scoffed. Wasting a whole year on Wendell the Weasel. That’d do it to the best of women.

Their sex life had been pathetic, to say the least. Now, she knew why. Crappy sex for that long would be enough to make any woman request her own cabin. No way could she spend the night in the bunkhouse with cowboys who looked like Studly. No telling what she might do in her sleep.

Climbing out of bed, she got dressed. Thank God the airline had found her luggage. She’d made such a stink at the airport; they delivered it last night during the welcome party.

But today was a whole new day. She gave up on trying to camouflage her swollen nose, and made her way down the hill to the cattle barn to meet Cody Rafferty.
Any
impression had to be better than showing up as Peg Bundy.

Monica took in her surroundings, now visible in the light of day, and sighed. What she wouldn’t have given to stop and sketch the tall pines and wide, grassy pastures, but she didn’t have time. Sidestepping a tree, she swatted away a fly and then skidded to a halt at the bottom of the hill and stared.

A chill swept through her. The faded red barn looked exactly like the one in her dream last night, with the same beat-up pickup and tractor parked out front. Bordering the forest stood what had to be the bunkhouse and cook shack. At least, that’s how she’d imagined they’d look.

“It’s only a coincidence. It has to be,” she reassured herself. Then how come she recognized everything? She couldn’t have been sleepwalking again, could she? It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

Shaking off the uneasy sensation, she inhaled deep and did a few yoga stretches to clear her mind. The sun peeked over the rugged mountains, bathing the cattle ranch in its morning glory. Wildflowers swayed in the warm July breeze. She sorted through the pitchable attributes and filed them away in her memory. From this point on, she was in “Monica the Advertising Wonder” mode. The strong scent of pine and sweet aroma of hay overrode the awful smell of manure.

Somehow, her dream hadn’t included manure. And somehow, she had to make “manure” sound like a nature smell any New Yorker would crave. “Manure, nature’s remedy for clearing your sinuses.” She grimaced, wondering how best to gloss over that part.

Somewhere behind the barn, chickens clucked restlessly. Muffled prancing and shrill whinnies rang out from within as the ranch came to life. A stocky, dark-haired man with a mustache strode around the side of the barn and stopped to talk to a wiry man with gray hair who adjusted the stirrup on a horse in the corral out front.

She drew close and chanted to herself, “It’s a whole new day. It’s a day to start fresh. It’s ... Oh, no. It’s the old man who thought my eyelash was a bug!”

The old cowboy swept his hat from his head when he noticed her. “Well, howdy, ma’am.” Then he waved it in the other man’s direction. “This here’s Rusty.”

Rusty nodded.

Monica waved.

The old cowboy’s gaze traced over her with curiosity. She watched his eyebrows creep higher, but he didn’t comment on her changed appearance. “What brings you down to this side of the ranch? No offense, ma’am, but a little bitty thing like you don’t belong here. You could get hurt.”

She had to think professional. Think like a CEO. “Don’t worry about me. I assure you, I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. Am I too early?”

“Too early for what, missy?” He fidgeted with his hat.

She hadn’t introduced herself the previous night because, frankly, she hadn’t stuck around long enough. “To work. I’m the new ad exec.”

“You? Boss said the new guy was someone named Mo.”

She stuck out her hand. “My name’s Monica Hammond, but everyone calls me Mo.”

He shook her hand. “Name’s Jake. I’m the foreman around here.” His brow buckled. “Gotta say I’m flabbergasted. Boss don’t cotton much to women causing distractions on his ranch, and all. Unless he thinks ....” Jake coughed like he’d swallowed a horsefly.

“What?”

“Sorry, er, Mo. Just remembering a conversation the boss and I had the other day.” He snickered.

“Really.” She clenched her jaw, not in the mood for games. “Where’s Mr. Rafferty? If he thinks he’s going to change his mind, he’d better think again.” She stared hard at Jake, until he pointed to the barn. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him lumber after her, and Rusty followed close behind.

Mr. Rafferty was turning out to be an unexpected obstacle, but he’d made a deal to give her a fair shot, and she intended to hold him to it. Marching toward the barn, she reached the entrance and swung the door open wide. A puff of dust danced in the rays of sunlight, looking like glittering specks of gold, and a whiff of leather drifted across her nose.

Her eyes adjusted, and she scanned the interior as a light flicked on in the back room. She headed in that direction, but a horse nickered on the far right, halting her. A man with a pleasant laugh brushed the mane of a beautiful white horse. His strokes flowed long and even while he murmured soft words. The horse nuzzled him in return, until the man glided around the horse’s body.

Oh, good Lord, not him, too.
First Jake and now the younger cowboy from last night. A lodge full of cowboys and the ones she would work with had to be the two who’d seen her make a fool of herself. Worse than that, the younger one was obviously her boss. He had to be Cody. His sister, Cassie, had picked her up at the airport. This guy had the same white-blond hair and pale-green eyes, along with a tall, athletic build.

The young cowboy lifted heavy-lidded eyes and seemed surprised to see Monica. Recovering, he smiled wide, revealing straight white teeth and two dimples.

Smiling back, she held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Monica. It’s nice to officially meet you, but I hope you haven’t been waiting for me too long.”

“Long enough, darlin’.” He grasped her fingers.

Her ears heated. She tugged her hand, but it didn’t budge. His dimples deepened, and his grip held fast. Hadn’t Jake said Cody didn’t “cotton” much to women? Could’ve fooled her. He seemed to be “cottoning” just fine.

“Well, let’s get started, then,” Monica said.

“Patience, sugar. I have some work to do first.” The young cowboy winked.

Sugar?
He didn’t sound very boss-like to her. She plopped her free hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes, hoping he’d get the message, but he still didn’t let go. If he didn’t watch himself, she’d give it to him good, and he wouldn’t be smiling.

“Okay, then. I’ll wait until you’re ready, so go ahead and work. You won’t even know I’m around.”

“Honey, I don’t think I could forget you if I tried. By the way, I’m--”

“Sorry, ma’am, but you won’t be around,” boomed a deep, rumbling voice from behind her. “Hank! What are you doing bringing your woman to work? You know the rules. Get the lady outta here.”

The young cowboy dropped her hand.

Monica froze. That voice. It sounded so familiar. Heat surged through her like a steaming furnace. She shook off the disturbing sensation. What was he talking about? She wasn’t anyone’s woman. Who did this guy think he was? She whipped around and opened her mouth to tell him what she thought.

“You?” The single word exploded from the man’s lungs.

Her words clogged her throat as he stepped into the light.
Him.
Acid churned in her stomach when she realized she hadn’t been dreaming last night. She must have been sleepwalking again, she thought, and popped a couple of antacids, shoving the roll back into her pocket. Everything she’d said to this stranger the night before crystallized in her brain as she chewed, tasting artificial fruit flavoring.

Oh, God, in her dream she’d wanted to jump his bones. She could only imagine the mumblings that had come out of her mouth. In college, her roommate once taped her talking in her sleep. Calling out her professor’s name in passion had proven to be the most embarrassing moment of her life ... until now.

The chalky tablets got stuck when she swallowed, and it took three tries to make them go down. Clearing her throat, she asked, “How did I get back to my cabin last night?”

He looked her over with smoky gray eyes. “You don’t remember?” The corners of his lips twitched in the most annoying way, then his gaze locked onto her nose and he frowned.

She touched the swollen mass and felt heat climb her neck. “Um, yeah. I remember now. Never mind.” She’d
had
to go and wear that nightgown last night. Reality jerked her back to the present, to the bigger problem at hand. Her fantasy cowboy stood before her. In the flesh. As real as can be.

Uh, uh. No way. Never.

Maybe she could talk Mr. Rafferty into giving Studly a paid vacation. Heck, she’d supply the pay. Anything to get rid of him. There was no way she could work with him around. She stood there like an idiot, with no idea what to say.

Apparently, he didn’t know what to say, either. He stared at her, looking as pole-axed as she felt, and absolutely fantastic. Tall, dark and handsome. Her knees knocked. She couldn’t help it. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, which made her mind go places it shouldn’t. Snug white T-shirt, wrinkled jeans, and cowboy boots.

Yum. Yum.

He plunged his hand through his thick, black, wavy hair and fixed his gaze onto hers. The harsh set of his jaw slackened, and the frown between his brows loosened. Until he glanced back at the man he’d called Hank, then his soft gray eyes grew stormy.

Cody couldn’t believe it. Her of all people. He glared as he bellowed, “Hank, I said get her outta here,” then he turned around to march back into his office. He had more important things to do at the moment, like find the new guy.

“Excuse me?” she sputtered.

He ignored her. So that was why she’d been sneaking around in his barn in her underwear last night. For a little rendezvous with Hank. Why that should bother him, Cody didn’t know. Didn’t matter. He wasn’t going down that path again. It would be a damn waste of daylight if his cowboys spent all their time making googly-eyes at the city girl. He had to get control of the situation. To top it all off, the new guy was late.

“I said, ‘excuse me’,” she snapped.

Cody started to walk away, but a hard yank jerked him to a stop. He shook his head. The little lady had one big set of
cojones
, for a woman.

“Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not going anywhere, and neither am I.” The heat of her slender fingers singed his lower spine as she held on tight to the waistband of his Wranglers.