To Tempt a Wilde (4 page)

“L
ooks like Althea's working out pretty good. Don't you think?”

Nate threw his hat down on the sofa and strode toward the kitchen. Ignoring his brother, he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a Heineken. Turning, he offered the bottle up in the air, silently asking Holt if he wanted one.

“Thanks,” he said, and caught the bottle as Nate tossed it his way, humor lurking in his
blue eyes when he narrowly missed the bottle making a direct hit to his head.

Nate popped open the bottle top and raised it to his lips, ready to feel the cool amber liquid slide down his throat.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” he asked, eyeing his brother over the bottle.

“Can't you own up to the fact that you were wrong?”

Again, Nate ignored his brother. They'd agreed, by silent consent, to let
the matter drop about Althea's working at the ranch. But that didn't mean he liked the idea now, any more than he had a week ago when he'd found her in his stable.

He'd just made damn sure she was nowhere near him at any given time.

“What's the real problem? And don't give me that bullshit that she's not pulling her weight…that horse won't fly.”

Nate barely checked his anger. The less he showed
Holt how much the woman in question was affecting him, the easier it would be to ignore the need to knock the Cheshire grin off his brother's face.

Only when he finished off the bottle did he answer, making sure he kept his face carefully neutral. “Wouldn't know. Haven't been paying attention.”

The comment elicited a laugh from Holt. “Keep telling yourself that. Maybe you'll start to believe
it,” he said.

“From what the foreman says, she's been following him around. Hardly seems like she's earning the money you and Shilah decided to advance her.”

“She's learning the job. Just like all the others who first come. And she's working hard, Nate. Damn hard,” Holt said, his normal smirking humor missing, a seriousness taking its place.

Nate hid his surprise. Of the three of them, Holt
was always the one with a ready joke, the one with the most laid-back sense of humor. If he didn't know better, he'd swear his brother was involved with the woman.

The thought brought on unreasonable and completely unexpected anger.

“Which one of you is interested in her?” He meant the question to come out lightly, but he heard the underlying anger himself and knew it hadn't escaped Holt's
attention when he raised one blond brow.

“You need to give her a chance” was his only response.

That only added fuel to a fire already blazing out of control. He and Holt stared at one another, neither one giving an inch. “I don't need to give her anything. She's no different than any of the others. Make sure you remember that. Just give her the same jobs as any new recruit—”

“As in?” Holt
broke in. “You won't let her near the house. Which makes no damn sense, as that's the reason we hired her, to help Lilly out. So what is it exactly that
you
want her to do?”

“Hell, I don't care, muck out the stalls for all I care, just give her a real job.”

Holt lifted a brow. “Seriously? Man, are you serious? Muck the stalls? Who are you trying to turn her into, Nate, some kind of modern-day
Cinderella?”

Holt kept his eyes on Nate, finished his beer and tossed the empty bottle in the recycle bin. Before he left he turned to face Nate again. “And I guess that would make you her knight in shining armor?” This time he laughed outright, his laughter booming off the walls when he gave Nate the “salute.”

Once alone, with a disgusted snarl, Nate pushed away from the stool and stood.

“Okay Cinderella…time for you to do some real work; stay out of my way and out of my head.”

 

Althea pushed the broom across the cement floor, pausing to wipe at the sweat that ran down her face, ran in rivulets down her neck and saturated the front of her T-shirt.

After reporting to the foreman yesterday, she'd been told there was to be a change in duties for her, which Althea was glad to
learn. She didn't want anyone thinking she wasn't here to work. She'd been told that most of the men would be busy with other duties for the week, duties that didn't require her to watch and learn from them, and that she was going to be on her own.

She'd not even batted an eye when the older man, slightly red-faced, had told her what her job for the day was.

“Muck out the stalls? Seriously,
I'm mucking out stalls,” Althea mumbled aloud as she pushed the broom across the floor.

So it wasn't the most pleasant job she'd ever had, she thought, the musky smell making her wrinkle her nose. But she'd had worse jobs over the past two years. And she actually welcomed the hard work.

Yet she was under no illusions about whose idea this had been.

Her first day at the ranch, Shilah and Holt
had allowed her to settle in, and the following days she'd alternated between helping Lilly in the kitchen and following one of the ranch hands, learning the operation. He'd not only showed her around but had also put her to work when she'd shown her competence at catching on quickly.

The work had been hard, and at the end of the day her muscles ached, but it had been a satisfying type of
ache,
the kind that came from doing something she'd found out she truly enjoyed doing, unlike the way she'd felt in her previous jobs.

Althea had felt a sense of pride at her accomplishments, although small, and found herself falling in love with the ranch with each passing day.

Now, as she pushed the wide brush broom over the cement floor, pausing to wipe away the sweat across her brow, a movement
from her peripheral vision made her pause, her heartbeat strumming against her chest.

She placed the broom to the side and walked slowly toward the entry. She was out in one of the less populated areas of the ranch, alone with the exception of the few animals that grazed on the south pasture. Looking outside the opened double doors she scanned the area, seeing nothing more than what she'd expect,
and slowly turned around and walked back inside, picking the broom back up and continuing.

She was alone. She shook off the nagging feeling, one she'd become used to, that hinted that he was just there, around the corner, ready to pounce.

He couldn't have found her. She'd been so careful this time. When she'd left Montana, she'd driven for miles in the opposite direction, checking her rearview
mirror constantly to see if there was someone following her. Once she'd been assured there wasn't, she'd taken the turnaround and gone in the direction of the ranch.

Her hand brushed over the scar beneath the bangs she wore to hide it. She would never be caught unaware, ever again.

With a shaky sigh, Althea forced the painful memories away. As she worked, she still couldn't shake the feeling
that she wasn't alone. On edge, she quickly went back to work cleaning and restocking the individual stalls with fresh hay.

A loud banging had her swinging around, broom in hand, clenched tightly and placed in front of her. Ready to fight, she spied a small cat scurrying away after toppling over one of the bales of hay.

“I've got to get it together. He's not here,” she whispered, relaxing her
grip on the broom.

Blowing out a sigh, she quickly finished. It was just nerves. She'd been on edge, the nagging feeling that she was being watched had started making her see things, thinking Reggie had somehow found her. And thoughts of Nate Wilde hadn't made it any easier.

She hadn't had an encounter with him in over a week, not since their first meeting. The few times she'd actually seen
him, he'd seemed to go out of his way to avoid her. She would feel him watching her, a prickling awareness racing along her nerve endings would have her turning around to find the source. Not that she needed to. No one had ever had the type of effect on her that he had. It was as though some magnetic pull drew her to him, one she neither wanted nor needed in her life.

She'd had enough drama in
her life to last a lifetime, she thought, finishing the last stall.

With the sun beginning to set, she wearily climbed onto the back of the horse she'd been assigned and made her way to the main house, pleased with the work she'd done but ready to go to the cottage, strip and take the longest, hottest shower of her life.

Dismounting, she led the horse to its stall, fed and
watered it and was
walking toward her the cottage when Jake, the foreman, approached her.

“How'd it go today?”

“All done. Thought I'd make my way home…uh, to the cottage,” she said, correcting herself before continuing, “and get something to eat.”

“No problem. You can finish the rest tomorrow, it's no rush,” he said, walking alongside her.

“Actually I'm done. Just finished the last one.”

He stopped and frowned
down at her. “You finished them all?” At her nod, his frown deepened. “Didn't expect you to do it all in one day, Ms. Althea. You had the week to finish,” he said, and she laughed.

“Guess that means I'll get to laze around the pool the rest of the week then, huh?” she asked, a smile playing around her lips.

He grinned down at her. “Well…I can't offer you that, but why don't you come with me?
A few of the men are trying to break in a new stallion. Stallion ain't having it. It always is a good time to see them try anyway,” he said, laughing.

Although she wanted nothing more than to scrub the filth off her body, the thought of seeing something more exciting than horse poop all day had her agreeing, and she followed as he led her to a fenced-off area where several of the men were gathered.

Leaning against the wood fencing, Althea found herself laughing out loud along with the others as one by one the men lined up against the corral took their turn at trying to break in the wild stallion, none managing to stay on for more than a few seconds before being bucked off.

Mid-laugh her body suddenly tensed. That unwanted yet familiar feeling of being watched washed over her again, this
time sending a fresh wave of chill bumps to dance along her body.

Althea turned, already knowing who was the one to cause her body to react on cue: Nate Wilde.

Standing less than one hundred feet away, he stood there. Just watching her.

His glance slid over her, starting at the top of her head, working its way down and over her body, the look so…electric Althea inhaled a swift breath.

She
resisted the urge to touch her hair, tuck the strands she knew were sticking out everywhere back into the ponytail she'd put it into in the morning. Her mouth grew dry, and her tongue came out to moisten her lips.

His gaze followed the action, his look intense, even from a distance. The background laughter of the men around them faded into nothing; it was as though the two of them were alone
together. He nodded his head in her direction and placed his Stetson on his head.

The gesture was old-school, and although she knew he didn't mean anything by it, there was something about it that just…
did
it for her.

“Now we'll see some action!”

Althea broke eye contact with Nate, her heartbeat thumping hard in reaction to the silent, swift, but heated exchange.

“In what way?” she asked,
forcing a smile to her lips.

The foreman nodded his head in Nate's direction. “Nate. Used to break broncos back in the day. Even did
some riding when he was younger. Taming a stallion ain't nothing for him!”

The surprise must have shown on her face as the foreman laughed.

“Riding, as in bull riding?”

“Yep, did pretty damn good too,” he said. “Did it for a couple of years. Made a helluva lot
of money, that's for sure. Enough to help the boys expand the ranch. They all did what they had to do to see the Wyoming Wilde successful. They're good men.” The last words were said in a gruff tone of voice, but the pride on the older man's face was obvious.

Althea turned with him and watched Nate's long-legged stride take him toward the fenced-off corral where the last defeated cowboy endured
the laughter from the others as he hopped over the fence, playing along good-naturedly with the ribbing he received.

Folding her arms along the rails she watched his long stride take him toward the wild-eyed stallion, unaware of the look on her face, one that made a thoughtful smile cross the foreman's face as she pressed her body closer to watch the action.

N
ate ran a quick hand down the horse's back and slapped it lightly on the butt. The horse lifted its head and neighed loudly, yet turned a docile nuzzle into Nate's hand, accepting the food he'd withdrawn from his pocket.

He turned around, facing the men who stood around clapping, nodding his head toward them. “And that, boys…is how you tame a horse.”

He accepted the pats on the
back and congratulations, and allowed one of his men to approach the newly tamed Appalachian and lead it away.

He removed his Stetson and swiped a hand over his sweaty forehead while his eyes scanned over the small throng of men, seeking out Althea.

He'd known she'd been watching him while he tamed the horse, and although for his own safety and from experience he knew his mind had to be on the
horse,
he'd been just as aware of her dark gaze on him and caught himself fighting the urge to return her look.

Now, as he stood in the middle of the corral, many of the men beginning to disperse and attend to their duties, their gazes locked.

He ran his gaze over her deliberately as he walked toward her, sliding his eyes over her from the top of her head, where she was wearing her typical ponytail,
over the thick bangs feathering across her wide forehead, down over the thick parka she wore and over her long legs encased in jeans.

She took a step back, away from her position near the fence, and turned as though to go.

“Ms. Dayton, I need to have a word with you,” he called out before she could make good on her escape.

She paused but kept her back to him. Her body was stiff, her back straight
and head held high.

For a moment he thought she'd defy him. That she'd pretend as though she hadn't heard him speak.

He jumped over the fence, walked closer and waited.

After long moments she finally turned and faced him.

Although she kept her face neutral, showing no trace of expression, in her dark eyes he saw a glimmer of fear mixed with an awareness of him, and something more. Something
that defied explanation.

The same mix he'd seen the first time he'd met her in the stable. That same one that made his body tighten and harden to marble whenever he thought of her, was anywhere near her.

The same one that made him to want to grab her, haul her hot little body close and kiss her until she
was senseless and neither one of them knew their own names.

He inhaled, his nostrils flaring.
He could
smell
her.

He took several steps closer until he stood less than a foot away from her, glaring down at her, his mood darkening.

 

He stood so close Althea could smell his unique scent wash over her. She closed her eyes briefly, tried to get herself together, and reminded herself over and over in her mind that there was nothing he could do to her, there was nothing he could say or do
to push her buttons.

She shoved away the persistent images that had plagued her with irritating regularity of the way he
could
push her buttons. The hot, sweet, erotic ways she knew that he could.

She opened her eyes and ran her gaze over him.

She looked up the length of his long, long legs. The muscles in his thighs bulged as though fighting the confines of his jeans. She studiously avoided
glancing at the other bulge and continued her perusal up his body.

He'd taken off his coat, despite the chilly weather, and was only wearing a soft chambray cotton shirt that molded the thick muscles of his chest. Slowly Althea raised her eyes to meet his. Although he'd placed the Stetson back on his head and his face was partially obscured, she felt the intensity of his unwavering, penetrating
stare.

She blamed the chilly wind for the way her nipples constricted against her bra and the slew of goose bumps that broke across her skin.

When she'd watched him taming the stallion, her
heart had pounded ruthlessly against her chest, her eyes glued to his every move. The way he approached and ultimately tamed the wild horse was nothing short of beautiful. Man and beast facing off, both determined
to conquer the other.

As the others had shouted encouragement from the sidelines, Althea had been silent, her eyes glued to Nate's big body as he refused to allow the large, muscular stallion to throw him.

Riding the wildly bucking horse, his body jerked in every direction, yet his hold on the animal remained firm, the battle of wills one he was determined to win, until finally the horse had
been the one to give, the man the victor. A wide grin had split across his sensual mouth.

And then his eyes had sought hers. The smile had dipped from his sensual mouth, but not the intensity of its effect on her.

Althea shuddered at the memory.

He stepped closer.

At that moment, the wind picked up again. With it, his distinctive scent assaulted her, making her draw in a gasping breath. It
was the type of smell that no cologne manufacturer could ever hope to duplicate.

He was the epitome of man. And everything she should be afraid of.

Yet as she stood before him as he silently made his assessment of her, not speaking, he was everything she'd been yearning for in ways she wasn't able to…no, not
willing
to think about. She
absolutely
didn't need any more complications in her life.
God knew she didn't.

She had learned to live day to day, take life as it came. And this man…this man was the definition of complication if she ever saw it.

But that part of her—that deeply feminine part she'd kept locked away—didn't care about any of that. Her body reacted as though from a script. Again.

Her nipples tightened beneath her bra and her stomach rolled, hollowing out as though
she were on a roller coaster. She took an involuntary step back.

Swallowing deeply, she fought to get her mind…her body, under control, determined not to allow this man to affect her.

“What did you need to speak to me about, Mr. Wilde?” she asked, forcing the words out of a mouth gone dry.

 

What was going on inside her mind? Nate wondered as he locked gazes with her, her expression unreadable.

No matter how neutral she kept her features, he'd seen the telltale sign of her reaction to him when her dark honey skin flushed, her dark eyes going over him before she'd glanced away, drew in a breath.

He ran his eyes over her hair, secured in a messy ponytail, the thick fringe of bangs across her brows, and barely checked himself from reaching out to finger her hair, test to see if the strands
were as soft as they looked.

“I finished my chores…sir,” she finally said, her voice husky. She cleared her throat. “What…what else do you want from me?” she finished, a hint of defiance lighting her almond-shaped eyes.

With her question, both his body and mind went
into full-on battle. His mind told him that what he felt whenever he was around her didn't make any damn sense, and the fact that
she was on his mind twenty-four/seven even when she was nowhere near him was something he needed to walk away from while he still could.

But his body told him it was time to show her, in detail, exactly what he wanted from her.

His gaze stole over her cheeks, which were stained with a hint of a flush, to her eyes, which were focused on his mouth.

His body won.

Without giving a damn if anyone
was around to see them, he placed a hand at the indenture of her waist, tunneled one hand through the soft, wet tendrils of hair at the base of her neck and tugged her body until it was flush with his.

 

Before she could catalog in her mind the clarity of his intent, he'd brought his mouth down and covered hers.

On cue Althea's eyes slowly shut and one short, hitching breath of air escaped
before she gave in to his embrace.

The feel of his mouth on hers was electric as his lips brushed back and forth against hers in a feathery caress. The intimacy was so unexpected a moan escaped.

At her moan, he pressed her mouth open, widening it, demanding entry before pressing his tongue deep inside. He easily maneuvered past the barrier of her teeth, sweeping once, twice, within the cavern
of her mouth, before retreating.

Tilting her head, his tongue again swept inside her
mouth, in and out, smoothly, rocking inside her in lazy sweeps.

“Ahhh…” she moaned into his mouth, bringing her hands between them and grasping the front of his shirt, clutching the soft cotton in her hands and holding on for dear life against his silent yet deadly assault on her senses.

He kissed her like
a starving man. Licking and stabbing his tongue against hers.

His mouth greedily took hers, alternating between soft, biting caresses and long sweeps of his tongue. Consuming her mouth until she felt dizzy, her mind and body spinning, going up in flames.

Althea moaned, clutched his shirt and stood on tiptoe, lost in the sensual assault, pressing herself close to him, the heat from his big body
surrounding her, overwhelming her.

He broke the kiss and she whimpered, desperately clutching at him her eyes flew open and sought his.

 

“As far as what I want,” Nate said, his breathing harsh as he dragged his mouth away from Althea's lips, her soft, tempting curves. Her eyes were cast low, her lips puffy and swollen from his kiss, the soft, sensual stamp of need on her face making his shaft
strain against his fly as she stared up at him.

He fought like hell the temptation to haul her back against his body, fought the need to pick her up and go caveman on her, throw her over his shoulder and find the nearest place to lay her down, finish what they'd started.

Reining in his body, the unexpected devastation of a
kiss that only added fodder to his overactive libido, he forced out the
words he needed to say. Words he knew would throw salt on his game, but he had no choice.

What the woman was doing to him, the way she had his mind all twisted, thoughts of her never far away, images of stroking into her sweet body… He had to put an end to this, before it was too late.

The effect she had on him, with just one look, one kiss, was one he didn't want or need. He hardened his mind,
refused to be taken in by her sweet mouth, her soft voice, her ringing laugh. He refused to be taken in by her. She was no different from any other woman. There was always an angle.

“I want to make sure you realize that I've been watching you. I don't know what your game is, why you're here, what your angle is.” He brought his mouth down, the last words fanning the hair at her temples, “But unlike
my brothers and the rest of the men around here, I'm not easily taken in by a pretty face and hot body. You'll do the same work as all the others, or get the hell off my ranch.”

Her eyes widened and then quickly narrowed, the stamp of sensuality evaporating so quickly it was as though it was never there.

Surprising him with her strength, she shoved at his chest, pushing him away. Caught off-guard,
Nate stumbled before he regained his footing.

She stepped away, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth, a look of disgust replacing the soft sensual one that had been there moments ago.

His gaze centered on the soft line of her jaw that was now tightened in anger.

“I don't know who did this to you,” she spat out and stopped, took a breath and stepped back, farther away from him. “Who made
you think all women are the same, that we're out to get something or get over.”

She angrily spun away, her body jerky, as though she couldn't stand to look at him anymore, but then spun back.

“But let me just tell
you
something, Mr. Wilde, whoever it was, that's not me. And I'll be damned if I'll allow you to make me your punching bag. Been there, done that. And believe me that will never,
ever
happen again.”