“Jules, you owe me a dance.”
Amid the other couples, Tanner drew her into his arms on the dance floor. She swallowed hard at the warmth of his body so close to hers and prayed he didn’t notice her accelerated heartbeat.
“Relax, darling,” he whispered. “I don’t bite.” She looked up to see his gaze caressing her bare shoulders. Good gracious, she thought as her knees weakened. What that man could do with a look!
Trying to stay focused, she changed the subject. “How lucrative is bronc riding?”
“All depends on how good you are.”
“And how good are you?”
A spark of fire lit his eyes. “Good, darlin’. Real good.”
When the music stopped, so did their dance. Jules felt a twinge of disappointment. “Have a nice evening, darlin’,” Tanner said, and walked away.
Tanner O’Brien stirred her curiosity. But this was not the time to let attraction get the better of her. Then why did she find herself searching for him the rest of the night, hoping for another dance?
Dear Reader,
I love small towns. I love big cities, too, and even middle-sized ones. But having lived in a small town during my teen years and a bit beyond, then again as an adult, I can honestly say there’s something special about small towns that sets them apart.
When it came time to find a setting for The Rodeo Rider and Tanner O’Brien’s Rocking O Ranch, the fictional town of Desperation, Oklahoma, was born. Desperation is every small town in America, complete with quirky citizens, tales of the past and love always in bloom. Not only does Jules Vandeveer fall in love with Tanner, but she also falls in love with the town and the people who live there. I hope you’ll enjoy visiting Desperation, too.
Throughout 2009 Harlequin American Romance is celebrating American heroes with one book each month in the MEN MADE IN AMERICA miniseries. I’m excited that The Rodeo Rider is a part of a series paying tribute to the sexy American male!
MEN MADE IN AMERICA is only part of an even bigger event as Harlequin celebrates its 60th Anniversary. Congratulations to Harlequin, the writers, editors and especially the readers!
Best wishes and happy reading!
Roxann
The Rodeo Rider
Roxann Delaney
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Roxann Delaney doesn’t remember a time when she wasn’t reading or writing, and she always loved that touch of romance in both. A native Kansan, she’s lived on a farm, in a small town, and has returned to live in the city where she was born. Her four daughters and grandchildren keep her busy when she isn’t writing, designing Web sites, or planning her high school class reunions. The 1999 Maggie Award winner is excited about being a part of Harlequin American Romance and loves to hear from readers. Contact her at [email protected] or visit her Web site, www.roxanndelaney.com.
Special thanks to my high school friend Keith Woods, a real Oklahoma cowboy, for all his help with rodeo and arena information. Thank you, too, to all the cowboys and cowgirls who deal with the rigors and the joys of the rodeo life.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
Chapter One
“I’m not sure this was such a good idea.”
Jules Vandeveer didn’t realize she had spoken as she stared across the dirt-floored indoor arena of the Agri-Plex. From her front-row seat next to her best friend, she watched the cowboy in the brilliant blue shirt position himself on the back of a horse.
“We can leave if you’d rather not stay,” Beth Anders told her.
Jules was tempted, but strengthened her resolve. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, I need to do this.” She knew the dangers involved in any sport involving animals, but running away would not solve her problem. It was time to face her fears, and although she had trouble believing that anyone would be insane enough to make a career of tempting fate on the back of a bucking, twisting animal, she knew her reaction was based on those fears. “We’ll stay,” she said, determined to see this through.
Beth placed a hand on her arm, concern still in her eyes. “Hang in there. It’s nearly over. This could be one of the best bareback bronc rides of the night.”
In a matter of seconds, animal and rider burst into the open. The horse bucked, reared and twisted in an attempt to dislodge the man. With one arm waving above his head, the cowboy hung on with the other.
When horse and rider gyrated closer, so did the dirt and dust they stirred up. Jules escaped any particles that threatened to invade her eyes and mouth by bending to reach for her bag under the seat. Over the noise of the crowd, which had now come to its feet around her, she could hear the horn signal the end of the eight-second ride, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
Before she could collect her wits, something struck her bent head and fell to her feet. Afraid to discover what it might be, she dared a glance and saw a black cowboy hat.
“Where did this come from?” She picked up the hat and stared at it as she straightened. Gingerly holding the dusty object, she looked to the arena where the last rider stood waving at the cheering crowd—hatless.
“Hang on to it,” Beth said over the din.
Jules stared at her. “You hang on to it,” she said, shoving the hat at her friend.
Beth pushed it back, shaking her head and grinning from ear to ear. When the shrill sound of a pager pierced the noise of the crowd, Beth grumbled and slipped the beeper from her belt. “I have to answer this call,” she explained, standing and scooting past Jules to the aisle. “You stay here, and I’ll be right back.”
Jules jumped to her feet. “But—”
“It’ll only take a minute. Don’t move from that spot.” With a wave of her hand, Beth pushed her way through the still-cheering crowd and disappeared.
Jules watched her go before turning back to find herself staring down over the railing into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen, eyes surrounded by thick, black lashes—lashes any woman would kill for.
Her heart stopped and her mind went blank.
“My hat, darlin’.”
The comment, uttered in a smooth, slow baritone, caused Jules to blink, but her mind still didn’t kick into gear.
Crinkles formed in the deeply tanned skin at the corners of the sapphire eyes. A lock of jet-black hair fell carelessly over black eyebrows. “If you really want it that bad…” he said with an Oklahoma drawl.
Her gaze dropped to the hat gripped in her hands, and her heartbeat kicked in, thudding against her ribs. Had he called her darlin’? Stunned into action, she shoved the hat toward him and shook her head.
He gave her a lopsided grin. “You sure?”
She felt her heart somersault before she nodded, still unable to utter a sound. What was happening to her? It wasn’t fear that had her heart