“Why can’t he share some of the burden in running the ranch?” she asked slowly. “Maybe you can make him your foreman.”
He had never appointed a foreman. It was something he’d meant to do, but found himself putting off time and again. Naming a foreman meant giving someone else a share of the responsibilities that he viewed as his own. It was his ranch. His brand on everything. His good name that hung in the balance if anything went wrong.
Cruz frowned, looking down at his plate. “Hank’s not ready for it.”
Why not? Savannah asked herself. Just the other day her husband had mentioned how well the man was working out. Didn’t Cruz remember? “He’s been here almost two years—”
“I said he’s not ready for it.”
She pushed herself away from the table, glaring at Cruz. Damn it, he was doing this on purpose. “In your opinion, no one’s ready for it. I think you’re just using the ranch as an excuse not to come home to us at a decent hour.”
Like a man standing on one leg on a tightrope, Cruz felt as if he was being pushed beyond his endurance. “You want decent hours, you should have married some fancy businessman who clocks in from nine to five, not me.”
She stared at him. Where had that come from? There’d never been anyone but him in her life. “I didn’t want a fancy businessman, I wanted you.”
He caught hold of the one word that threw everything they had into jeopardy. “‘Wanted?’”
“Want. I still want you,” she amended, realizing what her slip must have sounded like. “But I never get to see you.”
He finished his cup of coffee and put it back on its saucer. “What are you talking about? We see each other every day.”
That didn’t count and he knew it, Savannah thought. “For what?” she demanded. “Ten, fifteen minutes at a clip? You’re always either on your way out the door or too tired to keep your eyes open.”
“If that’s true, how did that happen?” Cruz shifted his eyes toward her belly and the child who was growing there.
Picking up his plate and empty coffee cup, Savannah took both to the sink. “Once in five months doesn’t count.”
His manhood insulted, Cruz required a hefty dose of self-control to keep his temper and reaction in check. “It’s been more than once,” he corrected hotly.
She ran hot water on the plate and left it in the sink to soak for a moment. Then she shut off the tap and wiped her hands.
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t know what you mean,” he retorted, addressing his words to the back of her head. “You make it sound as if I’m having fun out there.”
Tossing the towel aside, Savannah swung around. “Well, aren’t you? In a way, aren’t you having the time of your life out there? Horses are your first love, aren’t they?”
Angry words sprang to his tongue. Cruz pressed his lips together, struggling to hold them in, knowing that once they were said, there was no way to take them back. He tried to cut her some slack because of her condition, even though she seemed bent on not cutting him any.
“I’m beginning to think the horses understand me better than you do,” he said darkly.
Her eyes narrowed. They were fighting. The fight was unfolding in front of her and she felt like a bystander at a train wreck, unable to stop what was happening. Unable to curb the words that kept flying up to her lips, demanding release.
“That’s probably because they get to see you more often.” Taking the glass of milk, she threw the contents down the drain, then clutched the sides of the sink, trying to pull herself together. None of the words being exchanged were ones she’d meant to say this morning. She took a deep breath, trying to center herself. “Look, Cruz, I don’t want to argue.”
Standing up, he threw down the napkin he’d used to wipe his mouth, echoing the movement of knights of old when they threw down a glove as a silent challenge.
“For a woman who doesn’t want to argue, you do a damn poor job of reaching your goal.”
And then, because he truly did love her, Cruz made his own attempt to smooth things out. Maybe he hadn’t been supportive enough, but hell, he was busier than God these days. Every time he turned around, there were more bills to face, more problems to smooth out. And that didn’t even include the training. Cutting horses required a great deal of time and attention.
“Look,” he began again, “you’re pregnant. Your hormones or whatever are all over the map. Why don’t you leave Luke with one of my sisters today and take a bubble bath or something?”
As if soapy water could somehow magically change everything between them, she thought.
Well, she amended, maybe it could at that. Or at least it could help her take a stab at starting over.
Turning from the sink, she crossed to him, then smiled. “I’d like to take a bubble bath. With you.”
He felt the effects of her smile. It was like watching sunshine rise over a darkened land. “That’s too girlie.”
Another wave of nausea threatened to overtake her. Savannah concentrated on pushing it back. This was far more important. She wound her arms around her husband’s neck, playing with the dark locks of hair at his collar.
“Not if I’m in the tub with you…”
He could feel the heat from her body. The heat from his own. “Yeah, well…”
Sensing her advantage, Savannah pressed herself against him, her eyes taking him prisoner. “Like we used to, Cruz.”
“We never took a bubble bath together,” he protested, but not too vehemently.
“No,” she agreed, grinning. “But we took showers together. Don’t you remember soaping up each other’s bodies?” Her voice was soft, low. It stirred him. “Don’t you remember what it was like, Cruz, drying each other off?”
His body was rebelling, betraying him. Now wasn’t the time or the place! “Savannah, you know you’re making me crazy.”
“Am I, Cruz? Am I?” Hope lit a tiny candle in the dark center of her soul. She pressed her body against his, feeling the imprint of it along her own. Feeling him harden. She had him, she thought in heady triumph. She just needed to press her advantage. “Why don’t you take the morning off? We can drop Luke off at one of your sisters, just like you said.” She raised herself on her toes, her face turned up to his. “Spend a little time together.”
Her mouth was seductively close. Temptation leaped out at him, taking hold.
He wasn’t made out of stone and he loved his wife. From the moment she’d returned to the Double Crown Ranch, there hadn’t been another woman around who could even remotely tempt him. He didn’t want anyone else. It was as if he’d buried that part of him that had searched for answers in other women’s beds. Savannah was the only answer he’d ever wanted or needed.
But right now he was needed elsewhere, not here, giving in to his own desires.
Cruz struggled to hold himself back. He knew that if he gave in to the ever-increasing wave of desire within him, if he even kissed Savannah, he’d be sunk.
He couldn’t afford to let that happen. There was so much to do today.
Very gently, he took hold of the arms around his neck and untangled himself from her. He saw the confusion, the disappointment in her eyes and felt something twist within his gut.
But she’d been his wife for over five years now. She understood about this life they led. What was required. “Honey, I just can’t today. I’ve got five new horses coming in.”
Frustrated beyond words, she wanted to scream, to rant. For the first time in her life, she wanted to throw a full-scale tantrum. “And you have to greet them personally?”
He tried to put his hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged him off. They were back in their corners again. “Savannah, you know better than that.”
Stepping away from him, she sighed. “Yes, I know better than that.”
He couldn’t stand to see the sadness in her eyes. Allowing himself one final moment before hurrying out the door, Cruz paused to take her chin in his hand. Tilting her head back just a little, he lightly brushed his lips over hers.