Read The Diva Diaries Online

Authors: Karen Anders

Tags: #Romance

The Diva Diaries (10 page)

“Push off that leg and swing into the saddle,” Sam urged.

Jenna didn't realize how many muscles and how much coordination it took to get on a horse. Although she was in good shape, her leg felt the strain. She balanced on her right foot and tried to spring on the ball to heft herself up. The operative word was
tried.

She made it just about as far as Black Spot's ribs.

“I am so glad that I can be a source of amusement for you,” she stated when she heard the choking sounds coming from the front of the horse.

Not to be daunted, Jenna tried again to swing into the saddle, but she couldn't get enough leverage. Suddenly, a set of strong, familiar hands gripped her around the waist and lifted her so that she could swing her leg around.

“I could have done it eventually.”

“Yeah, but I couldn't handle staring at your exquisitely tight butt in those jeans anymore or mine would be too tight to ride.”

Jenna saw frank appraisal in those eyes. Sam didn't even bother to hide the desire he was feeling. It shone in his intense blue eyes and made her squirm in the saddle. “Is Black Spot a boy or a girl?”

The corner of Sam's mouth crooked just a little. “He's a gelding.

The little smile made her insides turn to weak jelly. “What does that mean?” she asked, trying to gather her composure.

Sam looked off into the distance, as if figuring the most civilized way to answer her question. He used his index finger to push his hat back, so he could look up at her. “Technically he's a male, without his working parts.”

“Ouch.”

“Makes them docile and really good riding horses.”

Jenna snorted. “I can see why. He's probably afraid of what you'll do to him next.”

Sam chuckled, walked to the left side of Silver Shadow and smoothly mounted the horse.

“Show-off,” she said, and he laughed.

He gave her a few quick tips on controlling a horse and then they were off riding. Jenna immediately loved it. The slow walk was exactly right for her first time out. It was freeing in a way she couldn't seem to name.

They rode in silence for a few miles because they simply didn't need to talk. But then she saw Sam's back go rigid and he sat up in his saddle. He kicked his horse into a trot and took off down the field.

Black Spot started to trot, too. Jenna's butt bounced in the saddle. She had to admit it wasn't as pleasant as walking had been. When Jenna caught up, Sam was down on the ground next to a prone longhorn. She looked in pain and he had heavy concern on his face. Without any words, she knew the cow was in trouble.

“What can I do to help?”

“Dismount and bring me the rope around my saddle horn. Sam was already stripping off his blue chambray shirt. Jenna dismounted, although a little awkwardly. She grabbed the rope and ran over to Sam. Sam's arm was already deep into the cow's birth canal. “The calf is breech. Damn, Texas Rose is one of my best breeders.”

“Why don't you keep her in the barn?”

“Longhorns aren't kept in the barn. They're free-range cattle and usually don't have a problem giving birth because they have such wide birth canals.”

Jenna bit her lip and pushed fine hairs out of her eyes. She rolled up her sleeves against the heat of the day. She bent down to the cow and touched her head. The cow's eyes rolled to her, but closed as Jenna stroked the place between her horns. “Poor thing. Sam will help you.”

She patted the cow, gently smoothing her hand over the glossy coat.

Sam looked up with a half smile for her nonsense chatter to the cow and his throat constricted at the tender look on her face. He'd give his left arm if she would look at him like that, just once. But with a greedy possessiveness, he knew he could easily become addicted to that look. His gaze fell on her hands stroking the cow, and he couldn't stop his wayward thoughts on how it had felt to have those delicate hands on his body, stroking him in his most sensitive areas. “In my saddlebag are a cell phone and some clean towels. Could you bring them to me?”

Jenna went to the smooth leather and opened one of the bags. She pulled out the items he requested.

She gave a towel to Sam, who made quick work of cleaning himself up. He took the cell phone from her and dialed. “Tooter, it's Sam. Texas Rose is trying to throw a breeched calf. Call the vet. I'm in the back forty, east of the big red barn. Bring him when he gets here.”

“You're very fond of Tooter, aren't you?” Jenna asked when he disconnected.

He glanced at her and down at the cow. “Yeah,” he agreed reluctantly as if he was too embarrassed to admit it.

“You take good care of him.” It wasn't a question.

“He's an old man,” Sam said defensively. “He should be taken care of. The work isn't too hard here and he will never go hungry or lack a roof over his head as long as I'm alive.” The last sentence was said with firm conviction and Jenna smiled at him.

“I'm not accusing you of beating him, Sam.”

Sam remained stubbornly silent, giving his full attention to the cow. Jenna noticed his grim look of determination. She shivered at his icy stare, but couldn't help eyeing his bronzed, taut skin, broad shoulders—smooth and muscular—and all of it flexing and rippling every time he moved. Black hair sprinkled his chest, running down his torso to disappear into the tight jeans hiding the rest of his anatomy.

“Was it Tooter or your father who taught you about cows and horses?” She tried again.

“My father was busy with the running of the ranch. Tooter was more patient in teaching me the more intricate ways of ranching. I learned everything I know about critters from him.” Again, that reluctant tone, as if Jenna were interrogating him instead of making conversation.

She also heard the admiration and the bitterness in his voice. What was it about the memory of his father that caused these mixed emotions? She had to know.

She picked up a clean towel and mopped his brow. He smelled good—honest, clean sweat blending with a tangy soap scent. She leaned closer to him, one of her breasts connecting with his side. Her nipples immediately hardened and a burning need unfurled deep inside her like a flower unfurls to the warming rays of the sun.

The clear sky gave them no relief from the sun. Having seen it earlier, Jenna retrieved sunscreen from Sam's saddlebag.

Her clothes seemed suddenly stifling, the air too thick to breathe. Sam's skin was warm and covered with a thin film of sweat. While he was preoccupied with the cow, Jenna began to slather the lotion on his back.

He stilled and shot her a glance over his shoulder. “If you're trying to seduce me, I'm a little busy right now.”

It took her a moment to realize that he was joking and it brought a smile to her face. “No. Just trying to look after you.”

“I've got to help this calf. It's breech, so we'll have to pull it out once I get hold of its hind feet,” he said.

She wiped her hands on one of the towels and put the lotion aside.

“Jenna, take this rope and hold it for a minute.” Sam felt around and Texas Rose lowed softly in pain, jerking against Sam's intrusion. Jenna soothed her.

“Got him. Give me the rope.” He attached the rope and tied it. “Okay, help me, Jenna. Pull as hard as you can, but steady. Don't jerk.”

She grasped the rope and helped Sam pull the newborn calf out of his mother's womb. She looked down at the wet, still calf and asked with wonderment, “Is he all right?”

Sam used one of the towels to wipe the animal down. “He's fine.” He looked over at Texas Rose and frowned. “She should have stopped writhing and gotten to her feet to nurse and clean the calf.”

“Sam, what's wrong?” she asked when she saw the concerned look on his face.

“She should be up now, unless—oh shoot!” He went back down to the cow's abdomen and felt around. “Twins. She's having another one.”

Jenna was delighted as she divided her attention between the floundering calf and the cow's lower body.

“This one's not breeched. He's coming out just fine.” Texas Rose gave one tightened jerk and the second, smaller calf slipped out. Unlike his brother, this one didn't move.

“Damn.” Sam leaned down and touched the little calf, his face turning bleak.

Jenna bit her lip, feeling tears gather at the back of her throat as she watched Sam's face turn to despair.

“Oh, Sam, no,” she whispered. And like the fighter she likened him to, he refused to let the little calf die. He opened her mouth, cleaned out the mucus and pushed on her chest, rubbing her vigorously. Compelled, Jenna began to help.

Time ticked by and, with each second, Jenna felt her heart sink. Just when she was about to admit defeat, the little animal sucked in a huffing breath.

The mother rose and began cleaning the newborn calves. Sam checked the second calf. “Yehaw. She gave me a couple of fine bulls.” When she had finished cleaning the two small animals, he led first one, then the other to her to nurse.

They were quiet as Sam shrugged back into his shirt and helped Jenna mount. When they got back to the barn, Sam called the vet and told him that tomorrow would be fine to check out the cow and calves. Jenna could hear the pride in his voice. Wondering if she could see the animals from the loft, she climbed the ladder and unlatched the door, pushing it open. A soft breeze wafted in and Jenna craned her neck, trying to spot the new mother and her offspring.

Her boot slipped and, with a cry, she grasped the side of the door. Steel hands grabbed her around the waist and hauled her back against a hard, hot chest.

“What in tarnation do you think you're doing?”

She turned to find herself in Sam's tight embrace. He had a dangerous gunslinger look she'd never seen before. As if he would fight anything to keep her safe. “Is that a Texas Ranger thing?”

He frowned, not happy with her answer. “What?”

“Keeping me from getting hurt?”

“Shoot, woman. You are the most exasperating female I've ever met. I was trying to keep you from plunging headfirst down onto the hard ground, but maybe I shouldn't have worried about it, because your hard head would have saved you.”

She pulled away from him to look him in the face, highly amused. “Women are supposed to be myste
rious and baffling. It adds to our mystique and keeps men on their toes.”

“Is that what you're doing, keeping me on my toes?” He cupped her face and slid his thumb along the creamy skin of her cheek. “Well, you're doing a bang-up job of it. That's for sure,” he said quietly.

He touched her lightly, caressing her skin, and the look in his eyes sent her heart fluttering.

“I want you, Sam.”

She smiled as she watched him get all churned up. There was something going on with him, something that she liked. He cared about her, whether he wanted to admit it or not. She could see it in his eyes. He wanted her. It thrilled her down to her toes, and at the same time terrified her. She thought about the diary and the way the courtesan had described pleasuring a man.

She moved closer to him, her hand dropping down to the juncture of his jeans. She cupped him through the tight denim.

Her breath caught and moved shallowly in her lungs. She shut her eyes and unintentionally touched her tongue to her lips. Something liquid pooled through her belly to her lower body and settled heavily and with unmistakable hunger in the cleft below her mound.

She heard him release his breath, as if a fist had slammed into his chest. She opened her eyes and watched him watch her. In the dim loft, his eyes were alive and dark with danger. He rubbed his hands roughly over his face. He breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling quickly. He swallowed and his fists
curled so tightly that his knuckles pushed against his skin.

“Jenna.” He whispered her name, the air in the barn thick with their need.

Without removing her hand, she said softly, “Take off your shirt.” Sam's hands unclenched and he started on the first buttons, baring his sun-warmed skin to her. Before he discarded the garment, she leaned forward and touched her mouth to his collarbone. She inhaled sharply, her mouth burning. She bared her teeth and bit him gently. He groaned softly, leaning into her.

His erection was firm and pulsing beneath her hand. With her free hand she unzipped his jeans and pushed them off his hips.

A sweet ache settled in Jenna's heart as she pressed against his taut skin. God, how she wanted him, but not just for the short term. She wanted him forever and ever.

Impossible.

She watched his face as her body flowed down his, her hands cupping his erection.

Sam stilled and Jenna wanted to take his hard lips. The look on his face was violent, and a muscle in his jaw flexed. He grabbed her by her shirtfront, drew her up, and close. So close she could feel his breath on her lips. She couldn't help the shiver of need that coursed through her.

She fought him, wanting to take him into her mouth.

He leaned down and bit her lip with a gentle tug and Jenna thought she would swoon. With his tongue,
he laved her flesh between his teeth and she groaned. He let go, replacing the tingling sensation with a wrenching heat as his tongue ran along her mouth. He said, “Do you want to have your way with me?”

“Yes,” she said breathlessly, and ducked under his arm. But Sam had other ideas. He grabbed her around her waist and swung her over his shoulder while Jenna kicked and struggled. “No. Here in the hay. Please, Sam,” Jenna demanded, and Sam set her on her feet, then trapped her back against his granite chest, his strong, lean hips, and his muscled-to-perfection thighs.

Heat. Everywhere he touched her body brought scorching heat, burning within and without. Sam shuddered with it, his body pressing deeper into hers. Jenna writhed with it and turned away from Sam. Afraid of that heat, she wanted to escape, yet oddly yearned to be consumed by it.

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