The Cowboy and the Angel (15 page)

She dropped the curry into the bucket and reached for the soft brush, stroking the horse from behind her ears down her neck, letting the movement sooth her agitation. Derek walked by on his way to get his gelding from his stall.

“This one first.” He plucked the brush from her fingers and replaced it with the hard bristled brush before walking away.

Angela clenched her jaw, barely controlling her desire to throw the brush after him. “Hey!”

Derek spun on the low heel of his boot, turning to meet her gaze. His eyes glinted mischievously, but he sighed dramatically. “What?”

Angela walked up to him until she stood toe-to-toe with him and tipped her chin up. She wasn’t sure if she was more angry at him or herself.

“Stop.” She poked her finger against the hard muscles of his chest and recalled her cheek against them the night before. “I am doing the best I can.”

“Your
best
is taking forever. I’m beginning to think you want me to do it for you.”

She pushed against his chest, hating that he didn’t even shift his weight. “You’re a jerk.” She walked back to her mare, ignoring the sound of his footsteps following her.

Her heart leapt into her throat as his hands landed on her waist, gently squeezing. Derek leaned over her shoulder. “How do you want me to act, Angel? Like I can’t keep my hands off of you?” He slid his hands up her sides, skimming past the sides of her breasts and sending her heart racing. He reached for her shoulders and spun her in his hands, sliding one hand to her lower back and pulling her against him. She could feel his arousal against her belly. Heaven help her, but she needed his touch and that frightened her.

“Like the thought of kissing you again drives me crazy?” He buried his hand in her hair, forcing her to meet his eyes, and dipped his head toward hers, pausing when their lips were a breath apart. “Like I couldn’t sleep for thinking about what I wanted to do with you while we were alone today?”

She couldn’t catch her breath. With every word from him, a new flash of desire ignited in her body. Her mind screamed at her to run, to move away from his touch, but she felt paralyzed as the brush clattered to the concrete floor and her fingers sought the strong foundation his arms offered, clenching the solid muscles of his biceps.

Derek’s eyes flickered over her face, searching. Suddenly, his lips spread in a slow smile. “Isn’t this where you run away, Angel?”

“Oh, you jerk,” she muttered.

She pushed him away and bent to retrieve the brush. She wanted to be mad, but one glance at his face washed away any trace of anger. He looked like a little boy waiting for Christmas morning. Childish exhilaration gleamed in his dark eyes.

“Don’t be disappointed, honey. If we can get these horses saddled, I’ll make it up to you.” He bent and pressed a quick kiss to her pouting lips before heading to retrieve his mount.

A
NGELA FOUND IT
much easier to stay in rhythm with her horse today. Her legs were stiff but not as sore, due in part to a hot bath the evening before. She still hadn’t been able to discover what Derek had planned for her as they headed across a pasture east of Mike’s house. He’d quizzed her on the rodeo knowledge he’d imparted the day before, asking her about each of the events, and he seemed surprised when she remembered it all. She refused to admit that seeing the satisfaction in his eyes sent a shiver of delight down her spine.

They’d already ridden for thirty minutes and she was beginning to wonder how much property the ranch included. Her research had indicated that Findley Brothers was on a thousand-acre parcel of land, but she wasn’t sure how that translated into miles.

“Shouldn’t we be nearing the end of the property?”

“Just over those hills.” He pointed off in the distance. “But we’ll be stopping before we go that far.”

They crested a small hill and he stopped his gelding at the top. Angela looked down into a valley where a small creek cut parallel to a large pasture broken up into smaller fenced areas. Each held a magnificent horse, some grazing, others simply milling along the fence lines. One looked toward where they stood and whinnied. Soon, several others joined in and the horses began to prance along the fences. To one side was a barn with what appeared to be an attached corral and several small pens jutting from the back of each stall. To the right of the barn was a concrete slab with the framework of a new house. Her eyes turned toward Derek. He sat a bit straighter in his saddle, taking a deep breath and relaxing before her eyes. She could see the pride reflected in his eyes. Derek smiled. “You feel like checking out the studs?” She cocked her head and gave him a disparaging look. He burst out in laughter. “Stud
horses
,” he clarified. “Stallions.”

She could feel the heat of her blush creeping up the back of her neck. “I thought you said we were going to see some of the bucking stock today.”

He nudged his horse, cuing him to start down the hill. “We are. In the pens.”

She heard a quiet hum of electricity as they road toward the barn. “Electric fencing?”

“It’s safer for stallions.” He dismounted at the corral and slid the saddle from his gelding’s back. “They can be rowdy when we bring the mares in. We have the electric fencing sticking out a few inches from the inside of the wooden fences along the top and bottom. It keeps them from running into it and getting hurt when they get excited.”

She frowned as she dismounted Honey. “But doesn’t it shock them?”

“A little, but nothing bad.” He helped her unsaddle her mare and turned their horses loose in the corral before leading her to the nearest pasture.

“Watch.” He reached out and tapped the back of his knuckles against the wire. His hand reflexively contracted back toward his body as he made contact, shocking himself.

Her mouth hung open in surprise. “Why would you do that?”

He shook his hand and shrugged. “Couple reasons. One, to prove to you that it’s not painful, although it gets the animal’s attention. And two, I needed to check it anyway.” He laughed when she grabbed his hand to inspect his barely reddened knuckles. “See, nothing there. And horse hide at this height is tougher than mine.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “You’re insane.” She looked into the pasture as a beautiful golden stallion jogged toward where they stood and stopped without touching the fence. She looked at Derek. “Can I pet him?”

“Of course, Frisco here is a big teddy bear. Be careful to stay away from his nose though, he will try to nibble on you.”

She pulled her hand back. “He bites?”

Derek slipped a hand to her lower back, edging his body behind her and causing her pulse to quicken as heat traveled through her limbs. “No, he nibbles. A lot of stallions do bite, but Frisco just likes to grab at things with his lips. Sometimes, he catches skin by accident.” He rubbed his hand over the stallion’s face and she watched the horse lean toward his caress, edging closer to the fence.

“He’s going to shock himself,” she warned.

“He knows the boundaries.”

Unlike his master.
Not that she wanted Derek to move away.

The stallion stretched his thick neck over the fence toward the pair. Angela petted him, marveling at his deep golden color and white-blond mane and tail.

“He’s a palomino,” Derek explained. “That one over there is a paint. On the other side is Jester and he’s a roan. Just different hair coloring.” He reached for a strand of her hair and lifted it between his fingers, his eyes darkening. “Just like yours.”

She wanted to ignore the desire in his eyes but felt her entire body throb in response. She looked around at the fenced areas, desperate for a distraction. “Why do you have so many? There must be at least twenty.”

He didn’t even look away. “Twenty-seven, actually. These are the studs for the saddle bronc riding.” He pointed to a group of stallions on the other side of the pasture. “Those are for bareback.”

Derek slid his hand over her arms and she shivered at his touch. He smiled and clasped her hand in his before leading her toward the creek. Pleasure coursed through her. She pointed toward a massive framed building on a concrete slab. “What’s that?”

A broad smile filled with pride spread across his face. “I’ll show you that in a minute.”

Angela stopped, forcing him to stop with her. “You’re not going to make me go swimming again, right?”

“No,” he laughed. “This is just a short break before I take you over to see the mares.”

“How many horses do you guys actually have?”

Derek shrugged. “I’d have to really think about it. Between the animals we’re breeding, the foals and the working stock, we probably have about three hundred horses at any given time.”

“But you don’t ride them all, right?” She still wasn’t sure why they would have so many horses when less than seventy were usually used in the rodeo performance. It seemed that the more she learned about what he did, the more questions she had.

“Most of them are bucking horses, bred because of their parents’ proven ability to make great bucking stock. Look up ‘Born to Buck’ when you do research. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it already. We have a lot of bucking stock so that none of the animals ever get overworked.”

She sat on the damp earth at the edge of a swiftly moving creek, dropping her crossed arms over bent knees. He surprised her, scooting behind her and sitting with his thighs pressed against hers. It was an intimate gesture that sent butterflies spiraling in her stomach. She fought the urge to curl her arms around her knees, withdrawing from his connection. He lifted the hat from her head and laid it on the ground beside him before he leaned back on his palms. He didn’t pull her back against him or lean into her. In fact, the only part of him touching her was his legs, as if he was waiting for her to make the first move toward him.

Everything about this budding relationship was foreign to her. He was so unlike any of the men she’d dated briefly before. Whenever they’d tried to breach her tough exterior, she broke off any communication. But Derek wouldn’t take no for an answer and continued to press past the barriers she built, intent on revealing the vulnerabilities beneath the surface she’d taken great pains to hide.

And, there had never been anyone who made her feel the aching desire to touch and be touched. She wasn’t sure if it was his flirty smile or his country-boy charm, but somehow he was slipping past her usual defenses. It was exhilarating and frightening, as appealing as it was dangerous. Angela wanted to lean back against him, to feel the support of the solid wall of masculinity behind her, but allowing even that simple connection would open her up to risk—risk of exposure, of giving up the future she’d worked so long to achieve.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asked, his fingers playing with the long waves cascading down her back.

Angela rested her cheek on her wrists, looked at him over her left shoulder, and shrugged.

“You’re tense,” he pointed out, his fingertip outlining her ear.

She felt warm tremors course from his fingers down her neck and across her shoulders. The way this man could make her body respond with a mere touch was incredibly frightening. She closed her eyes, unsure how to respond. How could he read her so well in such a short time?

Derek’s fingers slid her hair to one side, exposing her left shoulder. He leaned forward, curling his body around her back. She wondered if he hadn’t given up, would she have made the first move? Would she have leaned into his heat? His lips found the hollow behind her ear and icy fire shot through her veins, burning and tingling at the same time, leaving her entire body languid and warm. She leaned back against him, shutting out the fearful warning threatening to creep in.

Derek wrapped his arms around hers, enveloping her within his embrace. “Angel, you are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever known.” His lips continued to caress the flesh of her neck, assaulting her will to distance herself.

Angela sucked in a breath as his teeth nipped at the sensitive skin at the back of her neck before his lips kissed the flesh. She couldn’t fight her desire any longer. Derek reminded her that she was a woman, feminine and desirable, worthy of love. In his arms, she was protected and cared for, cherished and adored. Foreign sentiments, even in her childhood. Derek forced her to relinquish control, and for the first time she found herself completely trusting a man.

She had to feel his lips against hers, to show him how much his affection was releasing her from her self-imposed, emotionless prison. She twisted in his arms, coming to her knees in front of him. Her palms cupped his unshaved jaw, loving the rasp of his whiskers against her palms as her lips found his, tentatively at first, quickly losing herself in the kiss. Angela silently begged him to understand her need, the ache that she was finding more difficult to fill when he wasn’t around.

D
EREK’S ARMS TIGHTENED
around her, pulling her against his chest. It was the first time she had initiated any contact between them, and he reveled in the knowledge that she was just as affected by this fire between them. His ice queen was melting and leaving a woman with burning desires. He brushed his fingers along her jawline before burying his fingers in the hair at the back of her head. Her tongue touched his lower lip before sweeping against his, and he felt his restraint snap. He’d never responded to another woman the way he did with her. He groaned and lay back on the grassy bank, dragging her with him.

His hands found the hem of her shirt, searching for the smooth perfection of her skin. Every nerve ending sizzled as his fingers found their prize. His large hands splayed over her lower back, sliding up her spine. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of her as his mouth sought her neck. She arched her head backward, allowing him access as she gripped his shoulders like a lifeline. He understood her need. He was alive only when they touched. His fingers continued up her spine, trailing over her ribs, his thumb brushing against the flimsy lace covering the softly rounding curve of her breast. With a flick of his fingers, he released the straining mounds, cupping them in his hands. She cried out as his thumb brushed against her peaked nipple. He massaged her flesh, driving himself wild with a need to taste her as she writhed under his touch. Her hands slipped under his shirt and every inch of his body burned with longing. He wondered if she would stop him from taking her here on the grassy bank.

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