Her Cowboy's Caress (Taken by Cowboys: Part 1) A Billionaire Western Romance (4 page)

“Don’t be sorry at all. I’m glad you’re
enjoying the food,” he said, his eyes lingering on hers. He paused
before adding, “And I appreciate a woman with a healthy
appetite.”

She blushed. Could he be making fun of her?
But his voice, and his look, seemed utterly sincere. She felt the
silly, smitten smile that threatened to overtake her face and
hastily picked up her wine glass and took a gulp. It was a crisp,
cold pinot grigio—her favorite. It was like they knew she was
coming.

She cleared her throat. “So tell me more
about how you and Nate started this place,” she said, feeling a bit
fortified by the wine.

“That is a very unlikely tale,” Spencer
said. Where Nate’s grint was boyish and slightly reckless,
Spencer’s was charming, like George Clooney’s. “Nate and I worked
in finance together all throughout our twenties. We met when we
were straight out of grad school working on Wall Street, as a
matter of fact.”

“You worked in the city?” she cried, after
she managed to swallow the bite she was chewing.

“Ah, yes, ‘the city,’” he said. “As New
Yorkers will always refer to it—as if no other city existed.”

She laughed. He had a point. “Good catch.
I’m not even from New York myself.”

“I am, as a matter of fact. Born and raised.
Nate just came for the job. We met our first day there, and we’ve
been friends ever since.”

This was all far from what Jess had
expected. Spencer and Nate, the owners of Getaway Guest Resort,
were former Wall Street financiers?

“So what brought about such a big change of
lifestyle?” she asked.

Nate, who had been entertaining a chatty boy
who was sitting with his family at the table next to theirs, caught
the snippet of conversation and seemed eager to chime in. “Spencer
had a breakdown. Went a little loony,” he said, pointing to his
temple with his finger and turning it in a circle. Jess
giggled.

Spencer scoffed. “If I ever have a
breakdown, it’ll be because of you,” he said. He turned to Jess.
“No, it was just the right moment for Nate and me to get out of the
life. We had both been at it for too long, and it was wearing us
down. When we had the chance to change our situation, we jumped at
it.”

Hm…
the right moment
. What did that
mean?

“Please have some more food,” Nate said
before she could ask. He speared another quarter rack of ribs and
put it on her plate. At the same time, Spencer refilled her wine
glass. She felt her face flush—and she knew it wasn’t just the
wine. “Thank you,” she said, trying to sound as casual as she
possible.

She was grateful when Spencer and Nate’s
attention was taken by an older couple who had sat down at the
table next to theirs, seeking details about a day hike that was to
happen the next day. She didn’t know why she felt so beside
herself. She was practically dizzy. Maybe it was just the sheer
handsomeness of these men that made their courteous attention seem
like something more. After all, their conversation, and their
gestures, had been nothing but polite. And yet, there did seem to
be something in the way Spencer had looked at her…

“We have a campfire tonight,” Spencer said,
breaking her thoughts. She hoped she had succeeded in keeping her
face composed. “It’s a Friday night ritual. I hope you’ll join us,
but I understand if you’re too tired and just want to rest.”

“Not at all!” she said. “Some fresh mountain
air sounds like just what I need.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” he said, giving
her the same cool smile, while his dark eyes boring into hers
seemed to say something more.

I definitely need a cooldown
, she
thought as she stood and joined the flock of guests who were
filtering into the crisp night air. Something seemed to be
awakening inside of her, something strange but not altogether
uncomfortable.

She followed the crowd to a campfire several
yards away from the lodge, which two men were in the process of
lighting. Around it were rows of logs that served as benches, and
people immediately began making beelines for choice seats. It
seemed like most of them had done this before.

She took a seat on a log next to a family of
four. Nate stood by the fire. “Welcome to campfire night!” he
bellowed. A cheer rose from the crowd. “And to those of you who are
new here”—he caught Jess’s eye, making the breath seize in her
throat—“welcome to Getaway Guest Ranch, your ultimate getaway from
the stresses of the busy life.”

He continued: “For the young ones, we’ll be
starting with some ghost stories, told to you by Billy, our
resident ghost expert. Next we’ll be grilling up s’mores, serving
up our signature hot buttered bourbon for the older folks in the
crowd, and ending with our favorite campfire songs. How does that
sound?” he yelled. The guests cheered with enthusiasm.
Everyone
really seems to get into this
, she thought.

Billy, an older gentleman with a lined face
and a deep, resonating voice, took up the podium. He launched into
a local legend about Old Joe Robinson, a man who had died while
laying railroad tracks and was said to still haunt the surrounding
mountains. All the kids—and a fair share of adults—leaned in with
wide eyes, enraptured by the tale.

Jess’s mind drifted away to her little
apartment back home, which she had subleased to a friend’s younger
sister who was looking for a job in the city. The girl wasn’t far
from Jess’s age, twenty-four, but still she reminded her of herself
when she first arrived in the city—and that Jess seemed like
someone much younger. So much had happened in the past year and a
half, and a lot of it hadn’t been good. She thought involuntarily
of Todd. A dark cloud came drifting over her mood, as it always did
when he came marching into her mind like a storm looming on the
horizon. She had dated Todd for almost a year while things had slid
from good to bad to worse. The relationship had left her feeling
broken, bereft of all confidence and self-worth. It had taken her
months to feel anything close to normal, and she hadn’t so much as
looked at another man in that time. She shivered in spite of the
heat of the flames a few feet away.

“Enjoying yourself?” came Spencer’s voice at
her side, wrenching her out of the pall that had drifted over her
thoughts. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all!” she said. Her voice sounded
squeaky. She winced, but he didn’t seem to notice. He settled down
next to her at the log, close enough so that she could feel his
body heat. She felt her heart speed up and her breath quicken. That
thing
that was being awakened in her seemed to have a lot to
do with this man’s presence.

He handed her a steel mug. It contained
something hot, steamy and fragrant. “Hot buttered bourbon,” he
said. “Usually we don’t serve it until later, but I have the
insiders’ connection.”

“Hey, thanks!” she said. She took a sip. The
hot cocktail was spicy, buttery and delicious.

“You seem to be deep in thought,” he said
after a moment. It wasn’t a question, just an observation.

“I guess I have a lot on my mind,” she
responded. She looked down into her cup, inhaling the sweet but
piquant steam. “It’s a good thing I’m here. I think I really need
the time away.”

He nodded. “I know just what you mean. When
I lived in the city, I sometimes felt this need to just…
run
.
To where, I didn’t know. Just away, I suppose.” He seemed to be
lost in memories for a moment. Then he spoke again. “Tell me, what
do you do?”

“I work in fashion PR,” she said. “Well,
worked
.”

“Is that right?” he said. “You don’t really
seem like the type.”

Instantly she was stung. He was obviously
referring to her weight. “You just seem way too down-to-earth,” he
continued.

A sense of relief coursed through her. “It
was never exactly my dream job,” she admitted, feeling surprisingly
eager to talk. “I just took it because it came along and paid the
bills—at least, it barely paid the bills. It seemed glamorous too,
at the time.”

“Not so much anymore, I take it,” he said.
“Well, you’re far from glamour in these parts. I’ll tell you that
much.”

She looked out at the fire, which was now
surrounded by a bevy of kids jabbing sticks impaled with
marshmallows into the flames while various parents and grandparents
tried to keep them in check. She burst out laughing. “Thank god for
that,” she said, and she meant it.

He smiled too, and their eyes met. Suddenly
she felt woozy, like she was going to faint. She put a hand to her
forehead.

“Whoa! Are you alright?” he asked, taking
the cup from her and putting a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m fine,” she said faintly. “Just a bit of
head rush…the wine…and the heat…”

“The bourbon probably isn’t helping,” he
said. “Come on, let’s get you some air.”

He put an arm around her and helped her up,
leading her several yards away from the campfire, where the air was
free of smoke. Her head was still swimming, but she also dimly
registered another sensation—the warm pleasure of his touch. She
took a few deep breaths, her head slowly beginning to clear.

Spencer still had his arm around her waist.
She opened her eyes. He was looking at her with deep concern.
“Alright?” he asked softly. Suddenly she grew aware of the intimacy
of his touch—and the fact that it felt better than any touch she
could recall. For a moment, in the raw darkness of the Western
night, everything else seemed to fall away.

“I’m fine,” she whispered. She attempted to
smile. “I’m sorry to be such a damsel in distress.”

“Please don’t apologize,” he said. She felt
her heart speed up when, for a wild moment, she thought he was
going to kiss her. Then he withdrew his arm from her waist. She
instantly felt chilled. “What were you thinking about back there,
before I came up?”

“Oh, nothing really. Nothing interesting,
anyway,” she said, giving a nervous laugh. The sound of people
singing “Home on the Range” wafted over from the campfire. His
question had caught her off guard, and the intensity with which he
was looking at her. There was something almost disconcertingly
straightforward about him, from his dark good looks to the blunt
way he spoke—as if there was a point to be gotten to, and he wanted
to be the one to get to it.

“I don’t believe that,” he said.

“Well…,” she said hesitantly. “I was
thinking about an ex, actually.” She paused. He was still looking
at her, waiting for her to continue. “Someone I left behind in New
York. I haven’t seen him for a few months, but I guess he’s still
on my mind.”

“He broke your heart, didn’t he?” he
said.

“I guess he did,” she said. “He did break my
heart.”

“I’m sorry, Jess,” he said.

It must have been the wine, the heat—she
wasn’t acting like herself. She felt drowsy. She wanted to lean
into his body and sink, let everything else fall away. “I like the
way you say my name,” she said softly—so softly, she wasn’t sure
she had even said it out loud. From the way Spencer was looking at
her, though, it seemed that she had.

“Jess,” he repeated, his voice low and
husky. A ripple of desire flickered through her body. The distance
between them was definitely growing smaller. “I like saying your
name,” he whispered. He wrapped his arms around her waist again and
before she knew what was happening, his full lips were on hers. He
kissed her with a slow, languorous passion that sent her head
spinning all over again.

The only other thing she was conscious of
was the awareness that the thing inside her had fully awakened from
a deep sleep. That thing was desire. For so long, she hadn’t felt
desired by, or desire for, anyone at all. Now it was here, raging,
screaming… She realized that she was kissing him back with
intensity, urging him to speed up his tongue’s torturous caresses.
She needed him urgently, needed to take him in and be taken in by
him totally and completely.

Just as suddenly, his lips were no longer on
hers and his hands were no longer hungrily caressing her body. She
breathed in sharply, the air around now as cold and empty as outer
space.

“I’m—I’m sorry, Jess,” he said, his voice
fraught with confusion. He ran a hand through her hair, sending a
shiver down her spine as his fingers scraped deliciously against
her scalp. “I don’t know what got into me just there. Please
forgive me.”

For a moment she was too stunned for any
conscious thought to enter her mind, her knees still quivering—just
like in her dream. Then she wanted to yell.
Forgive you?
FORGIVE
you?
For giving me the most body-melting
kiss of my life and then taking it away, you cruel bastard?

Her heavy breathing finally slowed. “That’s
okay,” she managed.

There was a brief silence as they stood a
few feet away from each other, the charge of their kiss still
hanging between them. Jess tried to get through her mind what had
just happened. Her now-awakened desire was throwing itself at his
feet, banging its fists and kicking it feet.

“Let me walk you to your cabin,” he said
finally. “Everyone’s cleared out, and it’s pretty dark. I wouldn’t
want you to get lost.”

It was only then that she noticed that the
din of voices had stopped. She turned to the campsite. Everyone was
gone, and where the roaring fire had been only a few red embers
remained.

They started to walk. Neither spoke. Jess’s
mind was racing, but it didn’t seem to have any real destination,
like an unbroken horse galloping around a field. She glanced at
Spencer. His handsome face, mostly invisible, also appeared to be
deep in thought.

They reached her cabin and he put his arm
around her, pulling her towards him. She felt the rush of heat and,
with it, need. “I’m very attracted to you,” he said softly. “I
think that’s plain.”