To Tempt a Wilde (2 page)

N
athan Wilde wanted nothing more than to put his feet up, pop open a can of beer and relax, exhausted and sweaty from moving cattle to the spring pasture for the better part of the day with his brothers.

“No beer for you, but I'm sure oats and water will work just the same, right, girl?” he asked, affectionately patting the rear end of the horse he'd just dismounted.

After walking,
watering and patting down Gerry, his favorite workhorse, Nate strapped the canvas feeding bag over her neck and led her to the stables.

Running a weary hand over the back of his neck, he rolled his shoulders forward, trying to work out the knots settled deep. As soon as their workday ended, his brothers had decided to go into town to their favorite sports bar to unwind, inviting Nate to go with
them.

According to them, a woman was all a man needed to work out his “knots.” Although they'd issued the
invitation, they'd done so more out of habit rather than any real belief that Nate would actually accept. They, like Nate, knew what his automatic response would be; not only no, but hell, no.

A woman was the last thing he wanted to work out his knots. He could do without the hassle of what
came
after
a woman worked out his knots.

Nate led the horse toward the stable, thinking of his brothers' invitation. There was a time when all three of them had been called the Wilde boys for a reason, besides it being their last name. They worked hard and played just as hard, and any woman knew when dealing with the men that that was all it was—play. It had been that way for Nate until two years
ago…

He shook his head. A lot had changed since then.

When he'd gone too long without a woman and his need was rising high—that was the only time he ventured into town and went on the hunt. Those times he made sure the woman he chose knew the score from jump.

He was looking for a one-time thing. Just a hard, hot ride to release his pent-up energy. And nothing more. No expectations or demands
on either side.

As he was pushing open the double-sided stable door to lead Gerry inside, he paused with one foot inside the barn. The low hum of a woman's voice stopped him dead in his tracks and pulled him out of his mental musings.

With a frown on his face, Nate cautiously moved forward, Gerry docilely trailing behind him.

“Yes, baby, you are a beauty aren't you?” the unknown woman crooned,
her voice low, soothing.

Frown still in place, Nate led the horse to her stall and opened the gate, ushering her inside. He gave her one more absentminded pat on the rear before locking the gate and moving toward the voice.

The woman's soft voice echoed in the quiet stable, tugging at Nate, and his feet moved as though of their own volition, drawing him closer to the source. When he came to
the open stalled area he stopped, his eyes narrowing.

Standing before the Arabian palomino he'd recently purchased was a woman, the top of her head barely reaching the horse at mane level.

Her face was turned slightly away from him as she ran a small hand over the horse's neck, down her side. As she whispered soothing words, the horse's willingness to allow her to touch him fascinated Nate.

He'd recently purchased the horse from a rancher who'd put up his livestock for sale after selling his spread to a major conglomeration for a hefty fee. Although he'd owned mostly cattle, he'd also sold several horses. However, the palomino remained.

The old rancher had rescued it from a shelter that recovered abused horses and sought to rehabilitate them. Eventually the man had given up trying
to tame the beast, unable to get anywhere near the animal besides to feed him.

Nate had gone to the ranch for the sole purpose of purchasing the Braunvieh bulls, paying a hefty price for several of the bulls to breed with their Angus. Yet when the rancher had shown him the stables and the last remaining horse for sale, he'd bought the horse, too.

It was beautiful and wild.

Beyond the fear,
there was a keen intelligence in the horse's watchful gaze, and Nate knew he had to buy it, convinced he could get to the animal, earn its trust. Nate had been sure that with the right touch, the beautiful horse would eventually come around.

In the week since the horse had been delivered, Nate hadn't been able to get within two feet of the damn thing without it neighing, kicking its feet up and
pitching a damn fit.

Last time he'd tried, he'd come in serious danger of losing his ability to father children….

And now, to witness this small, unknown woman uttering soothing nonsense at the horse, and it not only allowing, but encouraging her, nuzzling against her hand, was nothing short of amazing to Nate.

He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his broad chest, and watched
the interaction between the semiwild horse and the woman, listening as she spoke, a deep frown pulling his brows together.

 

Althea hadn't been so…at ease, in a long time.

She inhaled a deep breath, a smile tilting one corner of her mouth up slightly. Even the air smelled better. Cleaner, new. Alive.

That was it. That's what was different.

She hadn't felt so alive as she did here at Wyoming
Wilde. Hadn't felt so protected as she did now in longer than she wanted to remember.

Although the ranch was accessible, no one set foot on the property who wasn't invited. And no one came without at least ten men knowing of their arrival.

Continuing to smooth her hands over the beautiful
horse's mane, she thought of her short time at Wyoming Wilde Ranch.

The morning she'd awakened from the
night when she'd felt someone watching her, she'd known it was time for her to move on.

Not that she'd gotten any sleep after she'd turned off the light.

Instead she'd alternated between staring up at the ceiling, watching the blades on the old ceiling fan swirl round and round, the loud hum fading into the background, and fingering the business card she held clutched in her hand.

Finally she'd
given up on sleep, just as the early-morning sunrise was peeking through the cracked blinds. She'd risen and brewed a cup of coffee before sitting down at the beat-up kitchen table. Thoughtfully, she'd sipped the strong brew while contemplating what her next move would be.

Glancing down at the card she'd laid on the table, Althea had made up her mind. Wyoming Wilde…she was going to the ranch.
Why not? She'd gone on flimsier leads than that in her two years of moving from place to place.

She'd packed her scanty belongings before going by the diner to inform her boss that she was quitting.

That had been the hardest part of her decision.

The harried cook/owner had begged Althea to stay longer, at least for a few more nights, so he could find another waitress to help them out. Business
was booming, as many ranchers and farmers from the surrounding areas were moving cattle and purchasing
new stock, which meant traveling and stopping by the café.

Althea had been close to agreeing, mainly because the owner had been good to her, paying her weekly wages in cash versus a check without deeply questioning her reasons. That and the desire to get another few more days of tips had made
her debate her decision to leave that day.

Piggybacking that thought, Althea had again gotten that eerie feeling of being watched.

She'd glanced nervously around the busy café, surveying the late-morning crowd. She'd seen no signs of anyone paying her any particular attention, yet remembering the previous night's unease had been enough to strengthen her resolve to go.

When he'd realized Althea
wasn't going to waver, he'd asked her where she was headed, a concerned look crossing his deeply lined face. Althea had plastered a wide smile on her face, hoping the strain of what she really felt wasn't showing, and told him she was headed east, that a friend had opened up a new restaurant and she had agreed to help.

The lie tripped smoothly from her lips, and she squelched down the guilt she
felt. Mason was one of the few people she'd worked for who she'd actually begun to get close to.

Although she hadn't dared share her history with him, or even tell him her full name, after the diner closed she and the older man had fallen into an easy, unexpected camaraderie.

He'd given her a look, one that had spoken volumes, and she'd squirmed a bit beneath his scrutinizing stare,
but he hadn't
asked any more questions and had walked to the back to retrieve her pay, handing it to her and giving her an awkward hug goodbye.

It wasn't until she was in her car that she opened the envelope, a small smile of gratitude crossing her full lips. Besides her wages, Mason had added several more crisp one-hundred-dollar bills, along with a note telling her to be safe.

Althea stifled the tears that
threatened to fall.

She'd then gassed up at the Gas 'n Go next to the diner, bought a few necessities and hopped inside her car, preparing to leave.

That eerie feeling had crept over her again. She'd glanced into her rearview mirror, a shiver running over her spine, her heartbeat speeding up and thumping hard against her chest when she caught site of a dark green Mercedes coupe pulling into
the diner as she left the gas station. The same make and color as the car
he
drove.

Keeping the car in sight as it came to a smooth halt, she'd watched a woman come from within, her high heels sinking into the unpaved parking lot as she walked inside the diner. Even though it wasn't him, Althea's instincts told her that he wasn't far away.

He never was.

Without hesitating, she'd peeled out
of the gravel parking lot and quickly headed east on I-90, once again on the move.

 

Now, as Althea heard the deep voice speak behind her, she spun around, her heart racing. She automatically stepped back several steps, warily glancing around looking for the can of mace she always carried and
had placed near her feet when she'd entered the horse's stall.

She eased her body down as subtly as
possible and grabbed the can, palming it within her hand.

The man's head swiveled, looked down at her hand before looking back at her. Although his eyes were shadowed beneath the Stetson he wore low on his head, leaving only a pair of well-defined, sensual lips visible, she
felt
his stare. She swallowed nervously.

She stood and glanced up, way up, as he pushed away from the wall and ambled toward
her.

“What the hell are you doing with my horse…and who the hell let you in here?”

The question was spoken in a low, deep rumble. Yet the smooth tone did
nothing
to disguise the distinct…
menacing
undertone.

Althea's heart leaped wildly against her chest as she stepped back, stopping only when her back brushed against the end of the stall.

Caught, unable to move away any farther, her tongue
came out to moisten her bottom lip.

Waiting for the fear to come, Althea wondered why instead she felt a feminine rush of awareness sliver along her spine as he advanced into the stall.

N
ate advanced farther into the stall.

His glance raked over the woman in one all- encompassing glance, from her long dark brown hair, pulled up into a messy ponytail, down over a snug-fitting T-shirt that molded her small, high breasts.

His gaze then rolled over her long, jeans-clad legs and back up again, sliding over her face, cataloging each of her features slowly.

To say
she was beautiful was too…weak a description.

Her features were perfectly spaced in her oval face; eyes so dark they appeared black, wide-set and faintly tilted in the corners. Her nose was narrow, with a slight flare at the ends of her nostrils.

But it was her mouth that caught his attention, pulled him up short and made his cock thump against his zipper.

Both lips were full, wide and sensual.
And made his
mind wander, for a split second, thinking of how they'd feel against his mouth, on his body…

Her skin was the color of rich, dark honey, smooth and flawless. Decadent.

His hands itched to run down the side of her face, down her throat. His tongue tingled, irrationally, with a need to trace it down the smooth column of her neck. To find out if it tasted as good as it looked.

The
thoughts came out of nowhere, bringing him up short.

Damn. Maybe his brothers were right. Maybe it
had
been too long since he'd been with a woman.

His eyes met hers.

Something tangible yet elusive passed between them as they made their silent observations of each other. Although her expression remained neutral, he caught the flicker of awareness in the dark depths of her eyes.

The horse whinnied
in the background, breaking the intense, sudden connection, dragging Nate's attention away from the woman in front of him.

A glance toward the horse showed it pawing at the ground before tossing its head back in a jerky movement. The ends of its nostrils flared as it kept its gaze on Nate. The animal had picked up on the sudden tension in the stable. Nate took a cautious step toward the near-wild
beast.

When he brought his hand up to reassure the animal its neighing became louder as it pawed the ground, growing more agitated.

The woman turned toward the horse and laid a hand over its hind end, her lips pursing, making a calming, shushing sound. Immediately the horse quieted, but still
it kept its amber-colored eyes on Nate, backing away from him until it stood between the two of them.
The animal didn't stop until it had positioned itself directly in front of her, as though it was protecting her from him.

He saw the ghost of a smile break across the woman's full mouth, tilting one side up, a glint of what looked like humor sparking in her dark eyes, surprising him. Again, he felt his body's response, but ignored it.

He brought his hand to the brim of his Stetson, tilting it
in her direction.

“My name is Nathan. Nathan Wilde. What the hell are you doing in my stables, with my horse?” he asked.

 

When the tall cowboy tilted his hat toward her, the gesture oddly old-fashioned yet appealing to Althea, she slowly eased away from the wall, her hand remaining on the horse, soothing it.

“My name is Althea. Althea…Dayton.”

She hoped he didn't catch the hesitation. She'd
used her mother's maiden name, which was her middle name, for the last two years, as a means of helping to keep under the radar. The fact that she hesitated even that small bit was unnerving to her, something she'd never done before. The fact that he could rattle her enough to cause the small slip-up was even more disturbing to Althea.

When he removed his hat his face was fully revealed. Althea
drew in a swift breath, slowly expelling it.

To say he was handsome was too mild…too
tame
a description for the man standing in front of her.

He exuded raw, male earthiness in scalding waves. His skin, the color of molten chocolate, made her want to
reach out and run her fingers over his face…she barely resisted the urge. She continued to keep her hand on the horse, thankful for its presence.

So this was Nathan Wilde, the oldest of the Wilde brothers, the one she'd heard about but had yet to meet.

When she'd arrived a few days before she'd been introduced to the men who worked the ranch, hiding her surprise when there'd only been one female who worked for Wilde Ranch, the housekeeper, Lilly. Lilly had been the one to take her to the guest cottage she'd live in during her stay. The
older black woman had been open and friendly as she showed Althea around, her love for the ranch obvious in the pride in her expression.

After that, she'd been given the full tour of the ranch by Holt and Shilah, which had taken the majority of the day, as their land and livestock spread over two hundred acres.

The brothers had mentioned their oldest brother, Nathan, only briefly, simply telling
her he was away buying cattle and wouldn't return until the end of the week.

“Too late for him to do anything about it then,” Holt had said, turning to his brother. Althea's radar had gone on full alert at the comment, knowing it had something to do with her, but she hadn't asked. She'd simply filed it in the back of her mind for later thought.

They'd given her three weeks pay upfront, no strings
attached, something that surprised Althea but at the same time made her instantly at ease, just in case she had to move on unexpectedly.

Later that evening, after the men had shown her
around, she'd gone to the main house where Lilly had invited her to eat. Not having had the opportunity to go into Landers and pick up supplies, she'd been thankful for the invitation.

Remembering Holt's earlier
comment, she'd casually mentioned it to the older woman, watching her as she bustled around the kitchen, removing a storage bowl from the refrigerator to heat up leftover food from the afternoon meal for Althea.

The older woman had paused, one hand on the chrome handle of the microwave, and glanced at Althea. She'd held her gaze for such a long time that Althea had immediately regretted her impulse
in bringing up the question.

“Baby, did you notice there weren't any women working on the ranch?” She finally spoke, closing the door and setting the cook time.

Althea nodded her head, slowly.

“There's a good reason for that,” she'd said, her expression, although light, serious as she turned and fully faced Althea.

“And that would be?”

The older woman turned away, moving toward the stove
to pour the boiling water into two mugs she'd set out before tossing tea bags into both.

“Besides me, you're the first woman in over two years who's been on the ranch. Let's just say women living at the Wilde Ranch has never been an…easy thing.”

Before Althea could digest that comment, the older woman had continued. “And if you want to stay for any amount of time, my suggestion would be to lay
low, do
your job and everything will be fine. Particularly around Nate.”

Something in the woman's expression warned her not to ask questions, so she simply nodded her head and sipped the tea Lilly placed in front of her, feeling a kernel of apprehension knot in her belly for the first time in the week she'd been on the ranch.

 

Now she straightened, dusted her hand down the side of her jeans
and cautiously extended it toward him.

He glanced down at her hand and hesitated for a fraction of a second before he engulfed it within his large one. Althea did everything she could not to squirm, the electric heat of his hand touching hers, warming her on contact, sparking off a fizzle of awareness down her spine.

“Yes, Mr. Wilde, I've heard about you, from your brothers. What I meant was,
your brothers told me you were away when they hired me. Not that that was the reason they hired me or anything. I just…” She stopped, took a breath, trying like hell to curb her nervous chatter. “I look forward to working here at the ranch.” She rushed out the rest of the sentence, expelling the breath of air she'd taken as she did.

He held her hand, held it a fraction longer than was necessary
before slowly releasing it.

“It's beautiful here, I've already started falling in love with—”

“No offense, Ms.…Dayton,” he broke in, eyes narrowing, cutting Althea off, making her want to bite her tongue for the words she blurted and her crazy inability to stop with the nervous chatter.

She didn't miss the emphasis he'd placed on her last name. As though he suspected she hadn't given him her
true name.

But his voice, smooth and liquid, distracted her momentarily. He had the type of voice that inexplicably brought out
everything
feminine in her. Things she thought long buried deep down inside, things she thought she'd never feel, tucked deep.

Her imagination took over as she eyed him. She imaged him roping cattle on a lazy summer day, beads of sweat glistening against his naked,
muscled chest, wearing snug low-riding jeans, his Stetson on, the rim low, shading his eyes…

“But as my brothers should have consulted with me before hiring you, I'm not so sure your stay here will
be
that long. I wouldn't want you to fall too deeply in love. With the ranch, that is,” he said, breaking into her little fantasy and bringing a flush to her face, dragging her mind away from the unexpected
flight it had taken.

Althea withdrew her hand from his and fully faced him, swallowing down her embarrassment.

The noticeable coolness in his tone was in direct competition with the heated way he was looking at her, the way he'd been since the moment he entered the stall. His words said one thing, his eyes something totally different.

Althea focused on what had just flown out of his mouth.

“Well, Mr. Wilde, as your brothers were so kind as to give me three weeks' pay—” she began, and ignored the look of surprise on his face “—for the next three weeks at least, you don't have one damn thing to say
about that,” she finished, and smoothly turned away from him, giving the horse her full attention.

Before she turned away she saw the flash of irritation on his face and squelched the need
to laugh. She had enough sense to know when to walk away from a fight. No sense in pulling the lion's tail any more than she had today.

“We'll see about that,” he nearly growled, advancing on her.

Hot and heavy, the tension instantly grew thick; heady and palpable.

Althea, despite the way the last years had shaken out, forcing her into hiding, had never been one to run from a challenge.

“Either
I can work off the advance, or I can leave. Either way I'm fine with it. I'm
still
getting paid. It's your call.”

So much for not pulling the lion's tail, she thought with a mental shrug.

With her heartbeat racing out of control, Althea felt his glare on her the entire time as she turned and gave the horse a final pat, pretending a nonchalance she didn't feel.

As quickly as humanly possible
she was out of the stable, not waiting around to see his reaction to her challenge…wondering what in the name of God she'd just signed on for.