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rugged cowboy.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
To touch him? To lie beside his long-limbed, leanly muscled body?
"Yes," she said.
He reached for a nylon article hanging beside the stall. "This is a halter." He opened the door, entered the stall and buckled the horse into the headgear. He led Caballero toward the barn door, and then stopped to say something in Spanish to a young Latino ranch hand,who looked at Julianne and nodded his head.
Once they were outside, Bobby tied the gelding to a hitching post. Julianne remained by his side, watching everything he did.
Yes, she thought. Yes. She wanted Bobby Elk. She wanted those big, calloused hands all over her. The ranch hand appeared with a saddle and left it on a rack. Bobby thanked the young man in English and received a Spanish response.
After the ranch hand departed, he saddled the horse, explaining the process, naming the tack. Julianne listened, but now and then her mind drifted. Back to Bobby's hands. Back to the fantasy of his touch. "What are you hoping to gain from your first lesson?" he asked, tightening the girth. "What do you want out of this?"
You, she wanted to say. "Just the basics. So I can take one of the guided tours into the hills and feel comfortable." She paused, brushed a stray hair away from her face. A few strands were coming loose from her ponytail. "Do you give those tours?"
He nodded. "I'm taking a group out tomorrow morning."
She didn't want to share him with a group. "Can I book a private tour instead?"
"Yes, but it'll have to be on Thursday. That's the only day I'm free. My schedule is pretty tight this
week."
She imagined being alone with him in the hills, surrounded by the scent of wildflowers and the warmth of the wind. "Then Thursday, it is. Now all I have to do is learn to ride." He finished tacking up the gelding. "Are you nervous?" She shook her head, glanced at the gold band on Bobby's finger. "It's important to relax," he said. "To let the horse know you're in control." As Bobby led Caballero, Julianne walked beside him, wondering how long he'd been married. Death had to be more stressful than divorce. She'd given up her wedding ring easily. Heck, she'd even considered flushing the meaningless thing down the toilet, but had opted to p.a.w.n it instead. Once they were in the arena, she tried to clear her mind. But as she waited for the riding instruction to begin, she took an anxious breath.
Bobby studied her from her under the brim of his hat, the sun shining in his face. "I thought you weren't nervous, Julianne." Okay, so maybe she was. But not about mounting the gelding. "Honestly, I'm fine." Just suddenly scared to death about the decision she'dmade, the choice to have s.e.x with a stranger.
This stranger, she thought, glancing at his ring once again.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." So he missed his wife, she thought. That didn't mean he didn't play around. The man was a widower, not a saint.
He gave her a boost when she wasn't able to climb into the saddle on her own. Next, he adjusted her stirrups.
The lesson went easily from there. Bobby corrected her when she did something wrong and praised her when she did something right.
He remained in the center of the arena, the sun glinting off his belt buckle. She'd never undressed a cowboy, but she was more than willing to try.
He watched her walk the horse along the fence rail. "You've got a good seat, Julianne."
She sent him a quick smile, a.s.suming that meant she sat a horse well.
The instruction lasted for almost two hours and when she dismounted, her legs wobbled.
Bobby caught her shoulders and suddenly they were standing only inches apart. His chest rose and fell, and when he dipped his head to look at her, their eyes met.
Julianne's mouth went dry. G.o.d, he was beautiful. A Cherokee masterpiece, with his copper skin and strong, sculpted features.
"You'll get over that," he said.
Over what? The wooziness in her knees? Or the silky sensation between her thighs? The heat of wanting him? "Are you sure?"
"Yes." He stepped back, his voice rough. Masculine. Much too husky.
Julianne attempted to steady her pulse, to give her lungs a dose of calm, even breathing. But the effort proved in vain. She wasn't going to get over Bobby Elk until she was wrapped in his arms.
Warm and wet and naked, she thought.
Free and sinful.
Engaged in the affair of a lifetime.
Chapter 3.
Julianne had worked in clothing boutiques since her teens, progressing from salesgirl to manager. She wasn't exactly a fashion plate, but she had a keen sense of style, a knack for knowing what looked good on her.
But on this nerve-laced evening, everything she tried on fell flat.
"You look great." This came from Kay, who sat on the edge of Julianne's bed.
"I shouldn't have bought this. I'm too old for a backless dress," she responded, criticizing her appearance
in a beveled mirror. She reached for the matching jacket and slipped it on, hoping it would help. "I shouldn't go braless anymore."
"Why not? You've still got perky b.r.e.a.s.t.s."
Of course, she did. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were too small to be anything but perky. She didn't actually have cleavage, which is why Kay and Mern had talked her into buying that padded bustier.
Maybe she should wear that tonight. Not with this dress, but with- "Too bad your nipples aren't hard."
Julianne turned around to glare at Kay. "Knock it off. I'm nervous as it is." She hadn't worried about
whether a specific guy would ask her to dance since her high school days. "What if Bobby isn't even there?"
"He owns this place, Jul. He'll be there."
"I hope so." She put on her cowboy boots, deciding they were the appropriate footwear for a barn dance.
"You could use a breath spray."
As Julianne covered her mouth, Kay reached into her purse. "For your nipples," her cousin clarified, handing over a small pump. "It'll make them hard. I read about it in a magazine."
Julianne studied the mint-flavored spray, and when she glanced up at Kay, they both burst out laughing.
Oh, what the h.e.l.l?she thought, unb.u.t.toning the front of her dress. She was out to seduce a man. And
what man wouldn't notice erect nipples?
Mern arrived at Julianne's door a short time later and the three drove their rental car to the entertainment barn, a building designed for dances, casual meals and parties.
Guests were already gathered at rustic tables, sipping margaritas and chatting companionably. The chef
had prepared an array of Southwestern appetizers. Julianne could see colorful trays garnished with
tomatoes, peppers and cilantro leaves.
The dance floor accommodated Western-clad couples swaying to a beat provided by a country band.
The room itself twinkled with white lights, giving the rugged atmosphere a touch of romance.
Julianne sat with her cousins and scanned the area for Bobby, and then made eye contact with a young
man who smiled and came her way.
He resembled Bobby, with his long, lean body and jet-black hair. A relative, she decided. A member of the Elk family.
He stopped at their table. His skin wasn't quite as dark as Bobby's, but he had the same strong-boned features and rough-and-tumble appeal.
"Evening, ladies." He introduced himself as Michael Elk,then turned to Julianne. "You must be the
good-looking redhead my uncle mentioned."
Stunned and flattered, she extended her hand. "Julianne McKenzie."
After they shook hands, he sat in the empty chair next to her. She reached for a corn chip and dipped it
into a bowl of guacamole. "So Bobby's your uncle?"
"Yes, ma'am. And a d.a.m.n good one. He gave up his rodeo career to raise me." Michael poured a margarita from the pitcher on their table and handed it to her. "He stepped in when my mother died. I
was thirteen yearsold, and full of pi-" He paused to rethink his statement. "Pickles and vinegar. I was quite a handful."
And probably still was, she thought, catching the dark, dangerous gleam in his eye.
They talked for a few more minutes before Michael rose to mingle. "Enjoy the dance." He smiled at Kay
and Mern. "Try thesopes ," he said, pointing to a platter of small, ridged, pork-filled tortillas. "They're my favorite."
Taking his advice, Kay reached for one of the Mexican appetizers. "Hunky," she commented when he was out of earshot.
"Just like his uncle," Mern put in, nudging Julianne to glance toward the door, where Bobby had just
arrived.
Instantly she became aware of her nerves, of the girlish flutter in her stomach. Taking a deep breath, she removed her jacket and placed it on the back of her chair. Suddenly she was warm. Much too warm.