What a Man Needs (7 page)

Cynthia eyed the discount-store sneakers the child wore, and it tore at her heart. Never again would she complain about anything.

“Maybe if you ask Patrick, you can go with us.”

Cynthia couldn't help but watch Patrick Tanner lift a little girl into the saddle. His face split into a wide grin and the girl smiled back. She could almost picture him doing the same thing with his own sisters.

“We'll see.” She realized that she would like to go on a trail ride with them. She hadn't been around kids much, and she saw today what she'd been missing. They looked at her with such awe, such wonder. Would she have felt like this if she'd become a teacher?

“Are you anyone's mom?”

A familiar ache tightened in her chest at Davy's question. “No, I don't have any children.”

She thought back ten years to her one long-term relationship with Clark Madison. He'd wanted to get married. At the time she'd been twenty-five, and her movie career was at its peak. She'd thought they had plenty of time. But they hadn't. Soon after that they broke up. The last she'd heard, Clark was married with three kids.

“My mom didn't want me.” The words came out of Davy's mouth as if he had resigned himself to that fact.

She didn't know what to say. When those chocolate eyes lowered to hers, she wanted to pull him down from the saddle and hold him, comfort him. She swallowed hard, then turned away to see Patrick waving for her to bring Daisy over.

“Looks like we have to go back.” She tugged on the mare's reins and led her to the stand where Patrick was ready to take Davy off.

The boy gripped the saddle horn. “I don't want to get off.”

Patrick hesitated, but remained stern. “We've talked about this, Davy. Other kids need a turn.” He reached for the child, but Davy pulled back. Cynthia hurried around the platform.

“Hey, Davy, why don't you come with me? I'll show you Daisy's stall.” She gave a sideways glance at Patrick and saw that he wasn't happy about her stepping in. “We'll make sure that it's all clean for her when she goes to sleep tonight.”

The boy brightened. “'kay.” He gave Patrick a winning look.

Cynthia helped him from the saddle. “I'll watch him.”

“You'd better,” Patrick warned. “Don't let him talk you out of anything.”

Cynthia wouldn't believe that a small child could be such a handful, but Davy certainly was. He asked question after question, and insisted on knowing about anything and everything, Patrick being his favorite topic. No doubt a lot of hero worship there.

“Sometimes Patrick gets mad at me, but he never yells or hits me.” The boy sat on a bale of straw just outside the stall while Cyndi did the cleaning. She lifted the pitchfork and dumped the contents into the wheelbarrow.

“Even if I do bad things, he doesn't hit me,” Davy said.

“That's because he's a nice man.”

“He doesn't have any kids, either. Like you.”
The boy lowered his head as he twisted a piece of straw. “I wish I could live here.”

“It's pretty,” she agreed. “I wouldn't mind staying here all the time, too. But we can't always have what we want.”

“That's what Nancy says. She's my counselor.” He smiled. “She took me away from my house.” Those big brown eyes bored into hers. “I can't see my mom anymore. She was bad and went to jail.”

Cynthia put her pitchfork down and sat beside the boy. “I'm sorry, Davy.” She hugged him close, feeling tears gather in her eyes.

He finally pulled away, then climbed off the bale and carried some handfuls of fresh straw into the empty stall. “If I lived here, I would work all the time and take care of the horses, and I'd never say another bad word ever.”

Cynthia fought a smile. “Do you say bad words?”

“Sometimes when I get really, really mad.” He looked at Cyndi. “I didn't say any today.”

Cynthia stood and caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. Patrick was leaning against the next stall. His expression didn't tell her how much he'd heard.

He walked over to them. “Hey, Davy. Everyone is up at the house. Nora made some cookies.”

The boy's eyes widened. “Peanut butter?”

“Peanut butter,” Patrick agreed.

“Oh, boy,” he said and took off running toward the house.

Cynthia looked at Patrick. “He's a great kid.”

“You've only seen him on a good day.”

“After the life he's had, I can understand why he's angry.”

Something flashed in Patrick's gaze. “Life isn't perfect for a lot of kids. Davy's had it worse than most, but he's in good hands now.”

“I know.” She came out of the stall. “You act real tough, but you're a good man, Patrick Tanner.” She started toward him. She couldn't seem to stop herself as she reached up and placed a light kiss on his lips. Before she could get away, he grabbed her and pulled her against him.

“You better be careful. A man could get the wrong idea.”

Oh, she wanted him to get the wrong idea, but knew it would only make matters worse between them. “I'll try to restrain myself.” With the last of her willpower, she pulled back from his embrace and walked out of the barn. She had to get away from this man…and soon.

 

That evening, Cynthia decided she deserved a treat, so she headed for the swimming pool at the
clinic. She loved their water aerobics class. It was the best workout and she stayed clean. After changing into her street clothes, she was headed to Dr. Richie's seven o'clock seminar. She hoped to see Kelly there, too. Her sister didn't think much of the doctor's weight-loss plan, but went along. Cynthia liked being here because everyone was so positive and friendly, and after three days with Patrick Tanner, she needed her self-esteem boosted.

It was Dr. Richie who greeted her as she came into the auditorium. “Ms. Reynolds,” he called to her.

Cynthia usually hated being recognized, but Dr. Richie was different. His books and tapes had helped her be more comfortable with who she was. And in this clinic, she felt safe from judgmental people.

She greeted him with a smile. “It's good to see you, Doctor.”

 

Daniel O'Callahan watched the two from across the hospital atrium. He couldn't believe it was the beautiful actress Cynthia Reynolds. Wait until he told his grandmother. Maybe he could get an autograph.

He moved across the room just as the couple ex
changed a handshake. The distinguished, gray-haired gentleman said goodbye.

“Goodbye, Dr. Richie,” Cynthia Reynolds said with a smile. Then she turned to Daniel. “Hello.”

He nearly swallowed his tongue. “Hi. I hate to bother you, Ms. Reynolds, but my grandmother is a patient here in the hospital and she loves all your movies. If it's not too much trouble, do you think I could get an autograph?”

“Of course. It's no trouble at all,” she said. She took a notepad from the table and scrabbled on it. “I hope she feels better soon.”

“I'm sure this will help.”

She smiled again and walked away. He followed her departure, a little surprised over her friendliness. A lot of movie stars avoided people. He glanced around the hospital waiting area, noticing that since he'd been spending a lot of time at Portland General for his grandmother, he'd been noticing that most everyone had been friendly. And not just to him, but to each other. Not just friendly hugs, either, but continuous touching and kissing. He'd noticed several other couples in the halls acting the same way.

Was something going on, or was it just the cop in him that made him suspicious?

W
here the hell had Cyndi gone?

Patrick paced his bedroom. The large room had once belonged to his parents, but for the past ten years, and after an extensive remodeling, he'd claimed it as his.

The walls were a golden tan and the woodwork trimmed in an off-white. The honey hardwood floors were bare except for a scattering of plush area rugs. His king-size bed was covered with a navy comforter and deep green pillows. A connecting bath gave him all the privacy he'd once needed in a houseful of women.

What once had been his private retreat now was anything but, since Cynthia Reynolds had invaded his home…his life.

And yet, he had no claim on her…so why should he let the fact that she'd gone into town bother him? If she wanted to find male companionship, he couldn't stop her. He sure as hell didn't have time to play games, to cater to her needs.

Cyndi was only a resource to help him get closer to his dream. She was paying him generously to teach her to ride a horse. Nothing else. Just because they'd spent one night together didn't mean that he had any say about her actions.

Damn. He hated that she could stir him up like this. He glanced at the clock. It was after eleven and he suddenly realized there might be a totally different scenario. What if she'd been in an accident, or worse, and needed help?

He hurried from the room and down the stairs, then into the kitchen. Suddenly the door opened and Cyndi walked in.

“Where the hell have you been?” His gaze roamed over her, relieved that she was okay.

She gasped. “Patrick. You scared me.”

“Where have you been?” he repeated.

“I was in town.”

“Don't you think you're trying to squeeze in a lot of activity even for you?” Had she been with a man?

She placed her purse on the counter. “What are you talking about?”

“Look, I'm not going to waste my time with you if you're not serious. If you're going to be out all night drinking and picking up men—”

“Just stop right there,” she interrupted. “For one thing, I've done everything you've asked of me.”

“How do you know? You weren't here tonight,” he yelled, trying to control his anger. It wasn't working. “I didn't know where you'd gone. The next time you decide to go man-chasing, let me know.” His hands clenched into fists. He couldn't remember ever being this angry. It frightened him, and worse, he could see the fear in Cyndi's eyes.

He had to get out of there. Without a word he rushed out of the house and literally ran toward the barn. Once inside, he paced around as if he were a caged animal.

Patrick wanted to hit something. Anything. Suddenly, images of his father's drunken rages flashed in his head. Oh, God, his worst fears had come true. He'd turned into his old man. He marched back and forth along the aisle. Several of
the boarded horses came to their stall doors, expecting some attention, but he ignored them.

He finally sat down on a hay bale and dropped his head into his shaky hands.

That was how Cynthia found him when she walked into the barn. She was a little shaky herself, but she wasn't about to let Patrick walk away from her like this. The things he'd said had hurt her.

“Did you really think I was out picking up a man tonight?” She watched his back tense as she approached him. “And what business is it of yours if I had?”

He finally looked up. “Does it matter?”

“Yes. You seem to think that I make a habit of finding men. Well, I don't.” She closed her eyes, wondering why she cared what he thought. But she did. “I hadn't been with a man for over two years when I met you at Morgan's Pub.”

He gave her a doubtful look, and it hurt.

She was angry now. “Why is it that men are never questioned when they take a woman to bed, but when women do it, they get reputations?” She studied him, finding she didn't want him to think the worst of her. “I have no idea why I came up to you at the bar. But in the end, you wanted me just as badly as I wanted you that night.”

Patrick couldn't deny it and he hated that she'd gotten to him. “This isn't working, Cyndi. You make me feel…do things… I liked my life just as it was.”

“I liked my life, too. I told you that my career is my life. I still need to learn to ride. Now more than ever, since I talked with my agent today. I have an audition in a week.”

Her career was everything. Patrick needed to remember who she was. An actress. And a good one. “Maybe it would be best if Forest takes over.”

“No! The deal was that you teach me. You're the best.”

Patrick raked his fingers through his hair, trying to control his frustration. “You don't know, Cyndi. This has gotten way too personal.”

She tossed him that sexy smile as she went to him. “Patrick, tonight I went to a seminar at the Healthy Living Clinic in Portland and attended a water aerobics class.” She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “I could never be with another man, not after what we shared.”

“Dammit, Cyndi. Don't say that,” he pleaded, fighting hard not to grab her.

In the dim light he could see her whiskey-brown eyes. “It's true. I never expected to see you again after that night. I left because I was afraid
of what you would think… I was the one who seduced you.”

Like she was doing to him now. “This isn't a good idea,” he said. “You and me.” It was too late; he lost the battle and drew her against him. He leaned closer and placed a kiss on her lips, then pulled back. He closed his eyes, momentarily savoring her. “Damn, you taste good. You smell good, too.” He inhaled deeply. “I'm about at the end of my patience.”

Cynthia put her arms around his neck, not wanting Patrick to pull away again. “I don't want your patience. I want you.”

He gave her that look that took her breath away, then he lowered his head and his mouth captured hers. Sensation raced through her, and she heard the sound of her own moans as his hands journeyed down to her bottom, pulling her against his aroused body. He coaxed her mouth open, and she felt a shocked delight as he slipped his tongue inside to dance with hers.

His fingers were slow, yet eager to touch her. They moved under her T-shirt and cupped her breasts through her bra. She wanted more contact and worked at the snaps on his shirt until she could feel his warm skin.

It was his turn to groan as he broke off the kiss.
“You are sin, Cyn.” His breath caressed her face, then he trailed kisses along her jaw and moved to her ear. “Damn, what is that perfume you have on? It makes me crazy.”

Cynthia's smile widened. All she had on was her NoWait oil. “I guess I need to put it all over my body.”

He groaned again. “You're killing me.”

“Oh, no. We can't have that. I've got plans for you.”

He raised his head and smiled at her. The old Patrick was back. “And what are those plans?”

“You still need to teach me to ride.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I believe you know how to ride.”

Before she could react to his sexual innuendo, his mouth crushed hers once again. This time his need had intensified; his hunger was evident. He broke off the kiss, his breathing rough. “I want you, Cyndi.”

“I want you, too.”

Patrick took her hand and led her into the tack room. He knew he was acting crazy, but he wasn't about to stop. He flipped on a single light in the center of the small room, then led her to a cot on the back wall.

“It's not the Grand Hotel, but I can't wait to have you.”

“I feel the same way,” she breathed as he began taking off her blouse, then stripped off his shirt and tossed it on the floor. He stopped and kissed her once again as they worked at removing the rest of their clothing.

Hearing a noise, he suddenly froze and drew Cyndi against him. “Listen. Someone is in the barn.” Leaving her at the bunk, he grabbed his shirt and went to investigate. Out in the center aisle he found Forest checking on the horses.

Patrick had forgotten that his foreman always did a walk-through before he retired for the night.

“Hey, Pat. What are you doing out here?” he asked.

“Just getting some fresh air before I turn in,” Patrick said, lousy at lying. He wasn't about to broadcast that he was with Cyndi. Not that Forest would say anything.

Hell, he was the one who was crazy. He drew a deep breath and released it. Sex in the barn. What had he been thinking? That was the problem, he hadn't been using his brain at all. Not when Cyndi was around anyway. Thank God he'd come to his senses.

After he watched his foreman leave, he returned to the tack room to find Cyndi sitting on the cot. He was relieved that she'd put on her blouse.

“It was Forest,” he told her.

“Is everything okay?”

He nodded. “Maybe we should get back to the house. We have an early day tomorrow.”

Cyndi blinked in surprise, but he didn't give her a chance to argue as he led her out of the room. Things got a little more complicated when they got to the house. He stopped in the kitchen, trying not to look at her mussed hair and her swollen lips.

“You should go up to bed. You've got a busy day tomorrow.” He glanced away from the hurt look on her face. “And I have some paperwork to finish up.”

She hesitated and he felt his resolve weakening. He wanted nothing more than to follow her and crawl into bed with her. She finally nodded then went upstairs. This was for the best, he told himself. He wasn't cut out for relationships, for that happily ever after.

But for once in his life he truly wanted it.

 

For the first time since she'd arrived at Tanner Ranch, Cynthia wanted to stay in bed. She didn't want to face Patrick. His rejection had hurt her. How dare he play with her emotions? She wanted to think it didn't matter, but Patrick had come to mean a lot to her. More than she wanted him to.

Cynthia thought back to their night together. He'd been so free with his caresses, his loving. That first night she'd believed he could care about her. So how could he reject her so easily now? Was this payback because she'd left him in the hotel room?

Five more days, Cynthia thought as she got dressed in her jeans and boots. After pulling her hair into a ponytail, she applied sunscreen, then headed for the door. She stopped and grabbed her NoWait oil off the dresser and quickly put some on. Even though she wasn't irresistible to Patrick, she liked her new trim body.

Downstairs, Cynthia was surprised when she found Patrick in the kitchen. He was at the stove cooking breakfast, and when he glanced over his shoulder, her stomach did a somersault. Darn, there was that feeling again.

“Good morning.”

She wasn't ready for this. “Good morning,” she managed, wondering how she was going to get through the next few days. “What can I do to help?”

“Nothing. It's my turn to cook.” He carried two plates to the table and sat down across from her.

Cynthia tried to concentrate on her food, but she couldn't seem to get the eggs down. Instead, she
pushed them around on her plate as Patrick talked about the morning routine.

There was a long, silent pause, then he spoke again. “About what happened last night,” he began.

“Nothing happened,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow. “A lot happened. And I'm sorry. I promised that we'd stick to business.”

Her heart ached. “Please, don't apologize. We both got carried away. It won't happen again.” She got up and carried her plate to the sink, then walked out the door.

A tear ran down her cheek, and she brushed it away. She only had five more days then she'd be gone, hopefully busy with her movie project. She wouldn't have to worry about Patrick Tanner anymore. Suddenly more tears streamed down her face and she couldn't stop them. This time she didn't even try.

 

That evening Cynthia had left Patrick a note. As promised, she let him know that she wouldn't be there for dinner. Once again she went to the clinic, in an effort to concentrate on Dr. Richie's lecture on self-esteem.

When applause broke out, Cynthia realized she hadn't heard much of the talk. She stood and was
beginning to file out of the room, when a woman moved through the crowd toward her.

She was young and slender, with long straight brown hair. She had pretty eyes, but they were partially hidden by oversize glasses. A little makeup would help her pale complexion.

Cynthia had seen her many times before and knew she worked for Dr. Richie.

“Ms. Reynolds, I'm Abby Edwards. I'm Dr. Strong's PR representative.”

“Hello, Ms. Edwards,” Cynthia said and shook her hand.

“It's an honor to meet you. I'm such a big fan.”

Cynthia had always had trouble handling her celebrity status. “Thank you.”

“If you have a moment I would like to talk with you.”

“Sure.”

They separated themselves from the departing crowd.

Abby adjusted her glasses, then turned serious. “Dr. Richie wanted me to speak with you. He's so happy that you've been attending his seminars and using his oil. He would approach you himself but he's afraid he'll draw attention to you and he knows how important privacy is—to all his clients.”

Cynthia was pleased. “I appreciate that he's so considerate. It's nice that I can come here and just be me.” Sometimes she wondered who that was. She thought of Patrick. She found herself wishing she could be the woman he needed. Whoa, hold it right there, she thought. Since when did she need to rely on a man?

“If I may be so bold, Ms. Reynolds, you look terrific. Not that you didn't before, but there seems to be a glow about you. I hope you feel that Dr. Richie and NoWait have contributed to that.”

“I do. I've never felt in better shape. As you know I already sent Dr. Richie a letter stating that.”

Abby nodded. “And he was happy to receive it. Since you feel so strongly about the program, there is something else we would like you to consider. How would you feel about letting Dr. Richie use your name to promote the program?”