Tough to Tame / Her Lone Cowboy: Tough to Tame

She shook her head. “He said there was some sort of mix-up with the magazine’s insurer, and he got left out in the cold.” She removed the cover from the cake pan and got out cake plates to serve it on. Her mother’s small china service had been one thing she’d managed to salvage. She loved the pretty rose pattern.

“That’s too bad,” Bentley murmured. But he was frowning behind her, his keen mind on some things he recalled about her mysterious brother. If Kell was friendly with the local mercs, it was unlikely he’d gotten to know them in the military. They were too old to have served anytime recently. But he did know that they’d been in Africa in recent years. So had Kell. That was more than a coincidence, he was almost sure.

His silence made her curious. She turned around, her soft eyes wide and searching.

His own pale blue eyes narrowed on her pretty face in its frame of long blond hair. She had a pert little figure, enhanced by the white sweater and blue jeans she was wearing. Her breasts were firm and small, just right for her build. He felt his whole body clench at the way she was looking at him.

He wasn’t handsome, she was thinking, but he had a killer physique, from his powerful long legs in blue jeans to his broad chest outlined under the knit shirt. Beige suited his coloring, made his tan look bronzed, the turtleneck enhancing his strong throat.

“You’re staring,” he pointed out huskily.

She searched for the right words. Her mouth was dry. “Your ears have very nice lobes.”

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

She flushed to her hairline. “Oh, good heavens!” She fumbled with the cake knife and it started to fall. He stepped forward and caught it halfway to the floor, just as she dived for it. They collided.

His arm slid around her to prevent her from going headlong into the counter and pulled her up short, right against him. Her intake of breath was audible as she clung to him to keep her footing.

She felt his chin against her temple, heard his breath coming out raggedly. His arm contracted.

“Th…thanks,” she managed to say against his throat. “I’m just so clumsy sometimes!”

“Nobody’s perfect.”

She laughed nervously. “Certainly not me. Thanks for saving the cake knife.”

“My pleasure.”

His voice was almost a purr, deep and soft and slow. He lifted his head very slowly, so that his eyes were suddenly looking right into hers. She felt his chest rise and fall against her breasts in an intimacy that grew more smoldering by the second. She looked up, but her eyes stopped at his chiseled mouth. It was very sensuous. She’d never really paid it much attention, until now. And she couldn’t quite stop looking at it.

She felt his fingers curling into her long hair, as if he loved the feel of it.

“I love long hair,” he said softly. “Yours is beautiful.”

“Thanks,” she whispered.

“Soft hair. Pretty mouth.” He bent and his nose slid against hers as his mouth poised over her parted lips. “Very pretty mouth.”

She stood very still, waiting, hoping that he wasn’t going to draw back. She loved the way his body felt, so close to hers. She loved his strength, his height, the spicy scent of his cologne. She hung there, at his lips, her eyes half closed, waiting, waiting…

“Where’s that cake?” came a plaintive cry from the living room. “I’m starving!”

They jumped apart so quickly that Cappie almost fell. “Coming right up!” Heavens, was that her voice? It sounded almost artificial!

“I’ll take the coffeepot into the living room for you,” Bentley said. His own voice was oddly hoarse and deep, and he didn’t look at her as he went out of the room.

Cappie cut the cake, forcing her mind to ignore what had almost happened. She had so many complications in her life right now that she didn’t really need another one. But she did wonder if it was possible to put this particular genie back in its bottle.

And, in fact, it wasn’t. When they finished the cake and a few more minutes of conversation, Bentley got a call from his answering service and hung up with a grimace.

“One of Cy Parks’s purebred heifers is calving for the first time. I’ll have to go. Sorry. I really enjoyed the meal, and the cake.”

“So did we,” Cappie said.

“We’ll have to do this again,” Kell added, grinning.

“Next time, I’ll take the two of you out to a nice restaurant,” Bentley said.

“Well…” Cappie hesitated.

“Walk me out,” Bentley told her, and he didn’t smile.

Cappie looked toward Kell to save her, but he only grinned. She turned and followed Bentley out the door.

He paused at the steps, looking down at her with a long, unblinking stare in the faint light that shone out from the windows.

She bit her lower lip and searched for something to say. Her mind wouldn’t cooperate.

He couldn’t seem to find anything to say, either. They just stared at each other.

“I hate women,” he bit off.

She faltered. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Oh, what the hell. Come here.”

He scooped her up against him, bent his head and kissed her with such immediate passion that she couldn’t even think. Her arms went around his neck as she warmed to the hard, insistent pressure of his mouth as it parted her lips and invaded the soft, secret warmth of her mouth. It was too much, too soon, but she couldn’t say that. He didn’t leave her enough breath to say anything, and the pleasure throbbing through her body robbed her mind of the words, anyway.

Seconds later, he put her back on her feet and moved away. “Well!” he said huskily.

She stared up at him with her mouth open.

His eyebrows arched.

She tried to speak, but she couldn’t manage a single word.

He let out a rough breath. “I really wish you wouldn’t look at me in that tone of voice,” he said.

“Wh…what?” she stammered.

He chuckled softly. “Well, I could say I’m flattered that I leave you speechless, but I won’t embarrass you. See you Monday.”

She nodded. “Monday.”

“At the office.”

She nodded again. “The office.”