Taste of Passion (Madaris Novels) (5 page)

The land was another matter. It had been too much for her to handle, so when she had moved to Louisiana after college to work at a prestigious law firm, she had leased portions of the land and its upkeep to several Cherokee families.

After returning home and opening the law office in
town, she had purchased several horses, and Jake Madaris had helped by providing her with a few heads of cattle. And then with Ashton’s assistance, she’d hired several men whom she could depend on to keep the ranch running and operating smoothly. That had been five years ago and since then she had come to realize just how much being back home meant to her. With every day that she spent here, the more she appreciated the legacy her parents and grandfather had left to her.

She took a deep breath as she moved away from the door. “I’m glad you like it. No matter where I went I considered this home and had always wanted to return.”

Mackenzie then pointed toward a door. “That’s the guest room where you’ll be staying.”

“Thanks,” he said, and headed in that direction. And not for the first time she studied him, thinking he had a nice body in a pair of jeans. The best she had ever seen.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and with a lean waist, firm stomach and thighs. And he had a tush that was worth drooling over. Without a doubt Luke Madaris, rodeo rider extraordinaire, was one hundred percent all man, pure testosterone and solid muscles. The upper part of his body, which was covered with his chambray shirt, was bandaged up and he was walking with a limp, but not once had he complained during the ride from the hospital, although she’d known he’d been in pain. She had gotten one of her men to help bring his things in the house, but he’d been determined not to accept any assistance for himself. At the hospital yesterday when he’d told her about his grandmother and great-grandmother, she’d gotten the distinct impression that he didn’t care to have anyone hovering over him. And that was fine with her.

As if he’d known she was watching him he looked over his shoulder at her and smiled. “Coming?”

Her heart pounded in her chest. “Excuse me?”

His smile widened at the corners of his lips. “I asked if you were coming in here with me. To show me around.”

She fought the temptation to roll her eyes. It was a
bedroom, for Pete’s sake. What was there to show around? It had a king-sized bed, a dresser and mirror, a five-drawer chest and nightstand. “You don’t need me to show you around, and I can vouch for the furniture being sturdy since it has endured the likes of the Sinclair triplets on more than one occasion.”

He grinned as he turned back around to face her. “I heard you keep them sometimes.”

She chuckled. “If truth be told, they probably do a good job of keeping me. Those three have to be the most active four-year-olds I know. They certainly keep you on your toes. There’s never a dull moment while they’re here.”

“I can imagine,” Luke said, before turning to enter the room.

“But now if you need my help getting settled then I—”

“Thanks, but I don’t need your help.”

“If you change your mind about that, let me know,” Mackenzie called after him.

“I will.”

She knew that he wouldn’t and that irritated her to no end. The doctor had explained that for the next few days he would probably be in quite a bit of pain and not to hesitate to take his pain medicine if he needed it, but she was yet to see him take a single pill although she suspected he’d been pretty uncomfortable on the drive over. Yet he never complained, which she figured was the cowboy’s creed—take your aches and pain like a man, anything else was a sure sign of weakness.

She rolled her eyes thinking the opposite sex’s thought processes were beyond reason at times. She knew that Luke was to begin physical therapy in a few weeks and he’d even been ordered to start doing a few motion exercises that were intended to strengthen the knee. Although he had argued against it, she intended to transport him to and fro to physical therapy. He said he didn’t want her to miss any time off work because of him. He’d soon discover the hard way that when she made up her mind about something, then that was it. She would give in and
let him have his way about some things but with others she would stand her ground. She had talked to Blade and Slade that morning and they said if Luke tried being difficult just to give them a call.

She appreciated their support but intended to handle Luke her way. If he thought for one minute that he would be a difficult patient then he had another thought coming.

Luke leaned against the bedpost and gritted his teeth against the sharp pain that tore up his leg. Taking a deep breath he eased down on the bed, appreciating the feel of the soft mattress beneath him.

He hated lying but when Mac had asked if he needed her help, he’d said he didn’t, when actually he had. But his pride had kept him from telling the truth. Damn. And as a result, it had taken him a full hour to unpack the few things he’d brought with him. And moving around on his leg had irritated his knee somewhat. He needed to chill a bit, he thought, rubbing his thigh. Or else he’d run the risk of causing his body more harm than good and he’d have to kiss the Reno rodeo goodbye. And that was one thing that he refused to do.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Sitting on the bed,” he answered without bothering to look up. He knew who it was. Besides, at the moment there was an intense throb through most of his body and the last thing he needed was to increase that throb somewhere else.

Mac had taken a shower. He could tell. She had that fresh scent of soap, powder, and woman. The latter was what his mind latched on to and not for the first time. The nickname “Mac” didn’t sound at all feminine and certainly didn’t do justice to the woman it was applied to.

“And why aren’t you in the bed?” she asked, coming into the room and making a point of standing in front of him, right in his line of vision.

He couldn’t pretend not to notice her so he looked up and instantly felt sweat bead his forehead and an increased throbbing in his body as his gaze met hers. He took a deep
breath and stared back at her while thinking he’d probably made a grave mistake by asking to stay here while recuperating. She had changed out of her jeans and tank top and was wearing a printed top and matching skirt. Evidently she was staying inside for the rest of the day since he couldn’t see her doing anything significant outside the way she was dressed.

Her body was what male dreams were made of, and her looks were as drop-dead gorgeous as any looks could get. She had a stunning face, a set of beautiful dark eyes, lips he knew were of the kissable kind—although at the moment they looked pouty and irritated—and silky black hair that hung past her shoulders. Her high cheekbones were evidence of her Native American ancestry and her creamy chocolate skin an attribute of her African American side. He’d heard her mother’s people had joined the Cherokee tribe as free men back in the eighteen hundreds. He also knew her mother had family living in the North and that when her parents and grandfather had died she had been sent to live with an aunt in Boston for a while.

“Luke?”

It was then that he realized he hadn’t responded to her question. “The reason I’m sitting on the bed, Mac, is because I just finished putting my things away.”

“It took you that long?”

He cocked his head. “Yeah, it took me that long.”

She placed her hands on her hips and stared back at him, her expression one of annoyance. “Why didn’t you call for me? I could have helped. I did offer my services.”

“I know,” he said. “And I appreciated it,” he added. “But I preferred doing things myself,” he pointed out.

“Fine. So look what you have to show for your stubbornness. You’re in pain and don’t try denying it because I can tell. Now I’m going to have to help you after all.”

He frowned. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do,” she said, straightening her shoulders. “And if I were you, I wouldn’t try giving me a hard time, especially not now.”

He lifted a curious brow. “Why especially not now?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“Trust me. I do.”

A frustrated sigh escaped from Mackenzie’s throat before she said, “Someone wrecked my mailbox.”

He lifted a brow. “What do you mean someone wrecked it?” He remembered seeing her mailbox earlier when they’d arrived. It was a huge brick roadside structure that had been erected at the gate leading onto her property.

“Just what I said. From the time I got home until a few minutes ago when one of the ranch hands noticed the damage, someone must have hit it with their car and kept on going.”

He shook his head. “That certainly wasn’t a very nice thing to do.”

“No, it wasn’t. That mailbox had fond memories for me since my dad built it for my mom. I remember the day he did it. I was eleven at the time. They had visited some friends in Denver and had seen one and Dad knew how much she liked it and decided to build her one himself.”

Luke reached out and cupped her cheek. He could hear the sadness in her voice. “I’m sorry about that, Mac.”

He could tell from her expression that his touch surprised her. Without being obvious about it, she eased her face away from his hand and plastered a smile on her face. “No big deal.”

He knew that it
had
been a big deal, although she was pretending otherwise, and it bothered him. “Before I leave I’ll make it my business to replace it,” he said.

“You don’t have to do that. It’s not your fault that someone was thoughtless and reckless.”

“Doesn’t matter. Besides, I’m pretty good when it comes to bricks and mortar. Whenever I came home and they were shorthanded, Blade and Slade were notorious for putting me to work at one of their construction sites.” He then stood and wished he hadn’t. A sharp pain shot up his leg and he gritted his teeth to keep from cursing.

“When was the last time you took your pain pills, Luke?”

The sharpness in her voice was as deep as the pain he’d just felt in his leg. He glanced over at her. “Not sure.”

“Not sure?”

From the look on her face evidently that hadn’t been a good answer. “Before I left the hospital,” he decided to come clean and say.

Her eyes narrowed. “The doctor told you to take a couple more of them when you got here.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been busy.”

“Only because you were too stubborn to accept my help,” she said, moving toward the bed to turn the covers back. “All men are bullheaded to a certain degree but cowboys are the worst.”

He felt the need to lean against the bedpost again. “Why cowboys?”

“I don’t know. You tell me since you’re one of them.”

Yes, he was one of them and proud of it. He got distracted for a moment when she leaned over and fluffed the pillow, presenting him with her profile, which looked as good as the rest of her. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Too late. I just did,” she said, before walking away from the bed and back to him. “Now I need you to sit back down so I can help you.”

He lifted a brow. “Help me to do what?”

“Take off your clothes.”

I don’t think so
. He had never liked having a woman undress him, refusing to give a female even that much control. On the other hand, he’d never had a problem undressing a woman and hadn’t yet met a woman who’d complained about him doing so. “I can undress myself, Mac.”

“I don’t doubt that, but the quicker it’s done the sooner you can get some rest.”

Getting rest sounded good, he thought.

“And once you take a couple of pain pills you won’t hurt for a while,” she added.

And as far as he was concerned that sounded even better. But still. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” he asked.

She blew out a frustrated breath as she looked up at him. “Yes, several things, but I won’t be able to concentrate on them until I know you’re okay.”

Luke pressed his lips into a tight line and said, “I didn’t mean to come here and cause you trouble.”

“You’re not. But I have to admit that I wish you had dropped the stubbornness at the door before you entered.”

He frowned. “I’m not stubborn,” he said defensively.

“Yes you are. You keep it up and I’m going to nickname you ‘mule.’ ”

He lowered himself on the edge of the bed, amused by her words. “I’m not that bad.”

“So you say.”

When she reached for the front of his shirt he automatically grabbed her hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She rolled her eyes. “Taking off your shirt. I need to check the bandage.”

“Oh.”

He tried remaining calm as her fingers went to work at his buttons and found it difficult to do so. He tried looking at the paintings on the walls, the various live plants in the room, and the toy box that sat in the corner. But none of those things could hold his attention like the woman standing in front of him. So he thought,
What the hell
, and he looked at her.

Thankfully, she wasn’t looking back. Instead her full concentration was on working his buttons free, and it took everything he had not to groan out loud when her tongue darted out of her mouth to moisten her lips.