****
“Alright, listen up people. The competition is in three stages, and we have twelve different teams. Winner of each stage faces winners on the other side until we have our finalists. Our prize remains five hundred thousand dollars. Every team has a color; register yours and let’s get this show on the road,” the bald-headed announcer crooned importantly over the microphone looking more than a little pleased with himself.
Callie tried not to roll her eyes overly-much as she placed her cowboy hat atop her head.
“So, Sweetheart, ready to ride him hard?” Cade whispered from behind her.
Callie didn’t bother dignifying that with a response. The man had to be the most aggravating person alive; he always managed to make every word out of his mouth a double entendre. Why, even his ‘good morning’ was suspect.
Just this morning, when she had appeared from her room, dressed in her tee-shirt, jeans and cowboy boots with her hat clutched in her hand, he had given her a bold, deliberately assessing look from head to toe. When he was done, she was almost certain she was naked. His eyes had lingered on her chest, her waist, and her hips, as though he was measuring them against what he had seen last night. Her cheeks had, predictably, heated and she had fled after a mumbled greeting. His chuckle still rang in her ear.
Her brother was a dead man, she decided. The moment she set eyes on him, she was going to slowly, carefully and cheerfully decapitate him and she was going to enjoy every minute of it!
Her long blonde hair was done up in a bun at the nape of her neck. Hesitantly, she reached up and touched it. Perhaps she should have let it fall down her back in a softer, more feminine style?
“That trainer has not been able to take his eyes off of you for more’n five minutes. Trust me, you look great, hair and all,” Cade murmured, leaning so close that his breath wafted against her ear.
He smelled clean and fresh like fresh pines mixed with mint; then there was this underlying clean scent that was all him. She wanted to lean back and take in more of his masculine scent.
Get a grip, her subconscious screamed at her.
She adjusted the peach-colored bandanna at her throat; that was their team color. Cade had a similar colored bandanna knotted right beneath his Adam’s apple, while his white shirt was open a few buttons to reveal a hint of that smooth, tantalizing hard chest she remembered from last night. He looked disturbingly handsome, rakish, and more than a little attractive in the bright light of day. She had made him sleep on the couch, and when she had seen him this morning, she’d realized for the first time that he was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. The man had eyes the color of clear summer skies, dark hair which he had allowed to grow to his nape and tied off with a small band, and a tiny diamond earring twinkling in one ear. She didn’t know much about jewelry but she would bet an arm and a leg that that small piece of jewelry had to have cost… well, an arm and a leg.
At six-three, he was easily taller than her height of five-nine which was a relief because there weren’t many men around who were taller than her.
The game started with a petite brunette and a large hulking man who looked old enough to be her father leading their horses into the circle. The crowd of spectators cheered wildly.
The timing started and the steer was let loose in the box. Callie craned her neck to watch, right along with everyone else. The first set ended fast with the header and heeler roping the steer in ten seconds; just a little under the allotted time of twelve seconds.
The second team didn’t manage to rope their steer until the time ran out. The first team was consequently declared the winner.
And on it went, until Callie was so eager to ride out Lateefah that she could taste it.
“My, you seem to be positively chomping at the bit,” someone commented with a laugh.
Callie looked around, a woman wearing a rather tight pair of jeans with her tee-shirt tucked in. She was voluptuous without being over-blown.
“My, it is hot out here today, isn’t it?” the woman continued, fanning herself with her hands.
Callie looked down at the woman’s hands in surprise. She had fixed some artificial nails which were admittedly short enough that they shouldn’t affect her overly much, but were still surprising, nonetheless. It seemed wrong somehow.
The woman noticed her gaze and tucked her hands into her jeans.
“I’m Madeline Glenmore, by the way. Who are you?”
“Callie Tyler.”
The woman’s eyes flicked to a spot behind Callie’s shoulder. Callie didn’t need to turn around to know who she was looking at with that speculative gleam in her eyes. “And who’s the cutie?” Madeline asked.
“No one,” she said dismissively.
“Oh honey, that is definitely someone,” the woman assured, grinning wickedly. Callie fought back an irrational surge of jealousy.
“This is Moore,” Madeline said, introducing an unremarkable man with mop-water colored hair, dull brown eyes and a weak chin that made her think he must not be very firm. When Madeline added that he was her husband, Callie tried not to let her jaw drop in amazement. How? It was a classic tale of two unsuited persons.
Moore shook Callie’s hand a bit too roughly before falling back behind his wife. Was this the Moore Glenmore who, according to Wade, was so good he gave even Wade a run for his money? He didn’t look like much of a cowboy, but apparently, he had a lot of prizes and awards to his name.
Callie soon lost interest in the odd couple and focused once more on the match. The next announcement, though, made her look over at them because it was for their team. They stepped away and began to prepare to ride. Soon they were mounted and in mere seconds, were chasing their steer around the circle with Moore as the header and his wife the heeler. They caught it in nine seconds.
Then, when their opponents for that stage of the competition came on, things started to get interesting. The team consisted of two men; as soon as they mounted, the header’s stallion refused to stay on course, bucking wildly to get at the heeler’s mare. The header tried desperately to control it, but the animal almost went wild, bucking and panting as it strained to reach the heeler’s mare. In mere seconds, the competition was over and they hadn’t managed to chase the steer, never mind catching it.
They left the field quarreling with the header accusing his partner of collecting some damn mare in heat.
Callie thought it was funny, but she saw Cade watching them with narrowed, intense eyes as they left, a thoughtful expression on his face.
Soon it was their turn and Cade was so good, he managed to toss his rope over the steer’s head in just three seconds; Callie managed to also heel the steer at about the same time. They moved so well as though they had been practicing together for months.
Callie stroked Lateefah proudly as they left the arena. The horse had moved like what she was; drinker of the wind, which was the name for Arabian thoroughbreds because they generally moved at lightning speed. Lateefah was an Arabian horse given to her father as a gift when his health was declining. He had handed her over to Callie immediately and Callie had loved the horse since that day.
“That is some horse,” Cade commented, grinning at her as they signed off for the day.
She wished he wouldn’t do that; he looked irresistible when he smiled.
“Right back at ya,” she said, smiling back at him from the sheer exhilaration of their race. She didn’t notice him suck in a breath as he looked at her smile. They had been the fastest team that day and that was quite encouraging.
She noticed Madeline looking over at them and waved gaily at the other woman; she just jerked her gaze away.
Callie entered her cabin so tired she could barely stand straight. She flopped onto her bed, clothes and all, and shut her eyes, glad she could finally have some peace.
“Aren’t you gonna take off those clothes and air ‘em?” Cade asked from the doorway.
She flicked open one eye. He was leaning against the doorjamb, watching her with an amused expression on his face.
Callie shut her eyes again. “So tired… go away.”
He chuckled, the sound rich and warm and flowing over her like hot chocolate. She felt, rather than heard him leave his position by the door. She felt the bed depress as he sat down and she tried not to let her excitement at his nearness show too much.
“What now?” she asked.
“I’m hungry. I’ve been hungry all day, and it hasn’t helped that every time I looked over at you, the same hunger is in your eyes,” he said slowly, softly, reaching out a hand to trace the soft curve of her cheek.
Callie forgot her tiredness in a fit of righteous indignation as she sputtered angrily, springing to her feet.
“How dare you presume to know—” she trailed off. He was holding a plate of macaroons in one hand, a wicked grin on his face.
“You did that on purpose,” she accused, flushing hotly.
His eyes laughed at her. Then he proffered the plate in his hand. Callie immediately reached for one cookie and bit into it, sighing with pleasure even as her stomach rumbled with gastronomic delight.
She shut her eyes, groaning with pleasure and it was all Cade could do to keep from hauling her onto the bed to make her moan and groan for good.
She sank onto the bed beside him, “It was weird the way Ian and Mike were so careless with their mare. How could they not have known it was in heat? It’s like clockwork, isn’t it?”
“Not if someone gives it a simple F2 alpha prostaglandin,” he said.
“Huh?”
“Never mind. Just thinking aloud. Listen, you were amazing out there on the field. You’ve got to be the best horsewoman I have ever seen,” he said, yanking her hair playfully.
He stood to leave, needing to put as much distance as possible between them.
Callie rose to her feet too, wringing her hands in discomfort as he headed towards the door. Suddenly she didn’t want him to leave.
“Stay,” she shouted, before she even knew what she was going to say.
He froze, then turned to face her, his blue eyes going so hot they instantly became darker.