A Saddle Made For Two. Roxann Delaney. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Roxann Delaney
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn:
Скачать книгу
before his first ride, Chace started out for the stock pens to look over the bronc he’d drawn. A good ride would keep him in the lead. A great one could give him an edge.

      His path took him through the thickest of the parking area, and his thoughts, once again, turned to Ellie. He’d hoped she’d be here in Phoenix, but he hadn’t counted on it. There were too many other places to compete. He’d spent most of the day wondering why he wanted to see her again, finally deciding that it was her downright stubbornness to fall for his charm that he found so attractive. What man could walk away from a challenge like that?

      He smiled when he thought of the lucky break. But realizing how much it pleased him, he brought himself up short.

      Had he gone loco? With four rodeos to go before the end of the season, he didn’t need to form any kind of attachment to a woman. This late in the game, a female was a distraction he couldn’t afford. He’d learned that the hard way, early on in his career, and knew better than to let it happen. He and the other three leaders were so close he couldn’t let up much until after the final ride of the season. Concentration was the key. One slip up, one bad fall because his mind wasn’t fully on his ride, and he might as well kiss his chance at any title goodbye. That wouldn’t help the Triple B. As the oldest, it was his responsibility to see that the ranch prospered. They couldn’t lose it the way they nearly had once. Mistakes and distractions were out of the question.

      When he spied Ellie’s pickup and camper to his left, he made a decision. He might be attracted to the miniature ball of fire, but he hadn’t lost his mind. She’d told him flat-out that she didn’t want him around. He’d been fool enough to let his body rule his brains. And he was getting too old to do that. No more. He’d steer clear of her from here on out.

      Before he had a chance to backtrack and change his route, he saw Ellie approaching her camper. He stopped in midstride. She wasn’t alone. He had a brief glimpse of a man with her, wearing a white shirt and tie, and carrying a suit coat slung over his shoulder. A cold hard ball of busted pride lodged in Chace’s gut when he saw the bouquet of flowers in her hand. He’d been a bigger fool than he’d thought. She already had a man, and by the look of him, a simple rodeo cowboy would fail to measure up. Even if the cowboy won a dozen National Championships.

      Disgusted with himself, Chace dared a last glance at the couple before he moved on to the stock pens. What he saw made his blood run cold, then hot. “Son of a—”

      Ellie stood propped against the side of her camper gazing up at the last man he’d expect to see at a rodeo.

      “Maybe a little competition from the right man would improve her eyesight.”

      Chace spun around to see Reba approaching. He would gladly give James Robert Staton a lot of things, including a shiner he owed him, but he remembered his decision to stay away from Ellie Warren. “Find another man, Reba. I’ve got a double championship to take care of, not a pint-size bundle of fireworks—who doesn’t like me—to tangle with.”

      A glance at her told him she would hang on to this crazy idea she had like a dog with an old bone if he didn’t set her straight. Sighing, he shook his head. “Not this time, Reba. You keep this to yourself, but this is my last year. I go out in a blaze of glory or I go out a loser.”

      Reba patted his arm with one plump hand. “You’ll never be a loser, Chace Brannigan. It’s not in you. But that man is nothin’ but trouble.”

      Chace almost choked on his reply when he saw the object of their conversation reach out to push back a stray strand of Ellie’s hair that had escaped her braid. “What do you mean?”

      Reba’s eyes flashed with impatience. “You’re a man. Figure it out.”

      Chace didn’t want to consider the implication of her words. Just watching Ellie conjured up an image of rumpled sheets and passion-drenched nights. Everybody else might see her as Ellie, a diminutive tomboy on a horse, taking barrels like the champ she would someday be. But Chace’s eyes and body told him her dynamite temper and obstinate attitude hid something deeper. A passion he hoped to unleash and, at the same time, prayed he wouldn’t.

      When he turned around, Reba was gone. He had to make a decision. In spite of his earlier vow to stay away from the little spitfire, he wasn’t about to let the man he’d known as Jimmy Bob since they were kids pull any of his con man tricks on her. Ellie needed protecting. And Chace was the man to do it.

      Chapter Three

      “What’s wrong?” Ellie asked, when J.R. started to walk away in the middle of their conversation.

      He turned back to her with a smile. “I thought I saw someone I know.”

      She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and studied him. “Do you know many rodeo people?”

      “One or two. Through business.”

      A small shiver of excitement rippled through her. Spending all of her life on the ranch, and then on the circuit, had isolated her from the rest of the world. No matter what she decided to do with herself after she retired, she wanted to see how nonrodeo people lived. And live it herself.

      He touched her hand. “I’ll be back to watch you ride. And tomorrow night when you’re finished, we’ll have dinner. But right now I need to get back to business.”

      Ellie ignored the fact that her heart didn’t flutter at the physical contact. He had the oddest eyes. Brown, like hers, and almost impossible to read. With most people she knew what they were feeling by looking into their eyes, but his seldom showed emotion. Was he coming on to her?

      “I’ll see you tonight. I’ll be cheering you on,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze.

      She thanked him and watched him walk away, unsure of what had transpired. But she didn’t have time to dwell on it. If she didn’t hurry, she’d be late. The sun had begun its descent on the horizon, and she needed to change before the opening ceremony. She’d never been much for the fancy outfits some of the others wore, but she made concessions, knowing the crowd liked to see the competitors in bright colors. The flashier, the better.

      In her camper she stripped off her boots, jeans and shirt and opened the door to her closet. Reaching for her favorite deep-red, fringed shirt, she glanced in the mirror.

      She’d never paid much attention to her body and couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a long look at herself. Being smaller than most women, she’d assumed she was still built like a young girl. The image of the woman in front of her gave her a completely different view. To her surprise she had hips, though nothing to brag about. Her larger-than-she’d-thought bust was nothing to write home about, either, but at least she had one. She straightened her shoulders and sucked in a breath. Not bad, she thought. But why hadn’t she ever noticed?

      “Because you never had a reason to care, you fool,” she reminded her reflection. She took a step back for a better look. “Would men like this?” She’d had her share of wolf whistles from leering cowboys, but she’d brushed them off as matter-of-fact. That’s the way cowboys were. When they got to know her, most of them treated her the same way her brothers did. None of them had ever had that spark of fire in their eyes that she’d seen in—

      She shook her head. “Uh-uh, no way, girl. Don’t even go there.” Thinking of that particular cowboy was dead wrong. Pushy, arrogant and nothing but a rodeoer who’d wander for the rest of his life, Chace was a danger she couldn’t let herself consider.

      But why was it him who sent rivulets of heat through her whenever he looked at her? She might not know much about men, and she might not have paid much attention to her blossoming body, but she knew enough about both to know that he was the one who stoked a fire in her. She’d heard of chemistry, of how a woman’s body reacted to some men. But chemistry wouldn’t get her a home in the city and the kind of life she wanted. Chemistry would get her trouble.

      Her pristine white bra and panties drew her attention. She remembered seeing fellow barrel racer,