Hitched to the Horseman. Stella BagwellЧитать онлайн книгу.
“Exactly. I’ll show you.”
Leaving the couch, he walked past her and went to stand behind the desk. Mercedes swiveled around to see him switching on the computer. While the machine whirred to life, she used the time to study him from beneath a pair of lowered lashes.
Apparently he’d not taken the time to shave this morning. A black stubble of beard covered his jaws, upper lip and chin. His hair, what she could see of it beneath the brim of his hat, curled damply against the back of his neck, as though it hadn’t been long since he’d stepped out of the shower. The scent of soap and musk and man all swirled together and drifted across the small space between them.
Stirred in spite of herself, she looked away and made a steeple of her hands. For the past eight years, she’d worked around men on a daily basis. Some of them had been goodlooking, even sexy. A few had become buddies. And one—Well, she’d thought Drew was a very special friend until he’d proved not to be a friend at all. But even before his betrayal, she’d never found his flirtatious smile and rumbling laugh this distracting. He’d never had her thinking of hot nights, sweaty sheets or even a slow, wet kiss the way this man was doing now.
Mercedes believed the sexual side of her had died along with her dreams of finding love. Yet for some reason she couldn’t understand, Gabe Trevino seemed to be shaking her back to life.
“Okay,” he said, breaking into her thoughts. “Here’s a chart on He’s A Peppy Charge. Take a look.”
Attempting to shake away the sensual fog settling over her, Mercedes placed her coffee mug on the desk then walked around to stand next to him. With every ounce of strength in her, she forced herself to focus on the monitor screen rather than him.
“Everything is here,” she observed. “His birthday, family tree, color and markings, vet visits, blood tests.” She scanned the data until she reached Gabe’s personal comments and then she read aloud, “Deceptive charmer. Tries to buck if not completely warmed up. Great speed and athleticism. Needs experienced cowboy on his back.”
A provocative smile curved her lips as she turned her head to look at him. “Does that mean you?”
The moment she saw his eyes narrow, Mercedes knew she’d struck a nerve and nudged him over the invisible line that had been acting as a polite barrier between them.
As he moved closer, she sucked in a bracing breath.
“Just what are you doing here, anyway, Ms. Saddler?”
Gabe had never intended to let this woman provoke him. From the moment he’d spotted her on the fence, he’d planned to appear cool and collected, even if his insides felt like a boiler on the verge of exploding. But now the teasing glint in her sexy blue eyes made him forget all about his earlier determination. Now his focus refused to go beyond the moist pout of her lips, the idea of how she would taste and feel.
“Uh—what do you mean?” she asked hoarsely.
Before Gabe could stop himself, he wrapped his hand around her forearm and tugged her against him. As her breast flattened against his chest, he could feel her heart flutter, and his own begin to pound.
“I mean, here,” he clipped out. “At the horse barn. Where you knew you would find me.”
Gabe hated the way her soft curves aroused him, yet at the same time, he couldn’t deny the excitement rushing through his veins.
Scowling at him, she said, “I walked down to the horse pen because it’s a nice, cool morning and I wanted to get out of the house. This is the last place I thought you would be.”
Her lame excuse filled his snort with a mix of humor and sarcasm. “Really? This is where I work. Where did you think I’d be?”
“In bed. Where everyone else is right now!”
Her nostrils flared like a filly being circled by a stallion, and Gabe felt a hot, feral flame flicker deep inside him.
“Everyone is in bed—but you and me,” he pointed out lowly.
Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and it was all Gabe could do to keep from closing the last bit of space between their faces. “If you think—”
“I think a whole lot of things,” he bluntly interrupted, “but I know we’re both thinking about this.”
Mercedes wasn’t sure if he tugged her forward or if she simply wilted against him, but the next thing she knew his mouth was hot and heavy on hers, his arms were wrapped around her shoulders, anchoring her upper body against his.
The intimate connection was such a shock to Mercedes’s senses that the thought of resisting didn’t have time to enter her mind. And then as his lips began to search and plunder her mouth, she realized that she didn’t want to resist. She didn’t want to do anything but stand in the circle of his arms and drink in the heady taste of him.
Somewhere outside, she heard a rooster crow, a horse snort, another squeal. Inside the room a clock was tick, tick, ticking. Or was that the sound of her heart beating in her ears? She couldn’t tell anymore. Her senses were beginning to melt into a useless puddle.
A keening moan gurgled in the back of her throat as her hands searched for some sort of support. It came in the way of his hard shoulders, and her fingers were about to latch over them when he suddenly jerked back from her.
The abrupt separation of their bodies tilted Mercedes’s footing and left her snatching a steadying hold on the edge of the desk. As she stared at him in stunned fascination, she felt her lips burning, her lungs dragging in long ragged breaths.
After several hard swallows, she finally managed to ask, “What—what was that all about?”
His jaw hardened as his gray gaze swept over her flushed face. “To let you know that I don’t play games, Mercedes. Not with you. Not with any woman. Try it again and I promise you—you’ll get burned.”
Straightening her shoulders, she lifted her chin. “Pompous ass,” she snarled at him. “Do you think every woman that gets within speaking distance of you wants to crawl into your bed?”
Without warning, his hand shot out and cuffed around her upper arm. Mercedes glanced down at his fingers biting into her flesh and then she saw them—tough welts of jagged scars on top of his wrist and disappearing beneath the cuff of his shirt.
Somewhere, somehow he’d been terribly injured. The visual evidence, even the mere thought, shocked Mercedes almost as much as his kiss had, and for long moments she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his brown skin.
“Gabe, your—”
Before she could say more, he jerked his hand away and quickly stepped back from her.
“Get out of here, Mercedes,” he gritted. “Go find some other man to amuse you.”
She couldn’t believe that only seconds before sympathy for the man had swept through her. Right now, she’d love to slap his jaw.
“In case you’ve forgotten, the Sandbur is my home. I’m not going to tiptoe around you as though you’re something special. If I want to come here to the horse barn or anywhere else on the ranch where you just happened to be, I will! And if you don’t like it, you can just—go!”
Not about to wait for any sort of reply from the man, Mercedes stomped out of the little office and marched down the alleyway of the barn. By now, sunlight was slanting through the door of the cavernous building, shedding light on the stalls lined against both walls. Several horses were sticking their heads over gates, watching her movements. Under normal circumstances, she would have stopped and greeted every animal. As it was, her lips were on fire, her eyes stinging with tears, and she couldn’t get out of the barn fast enough.
Back in the tiny office, Gabe switched off the computer and slumped into the desk chair, then immediately jumped back up and grabbed his coffee cup. As he splashed more hot liquid over the portion that had