To Tempt a Wilde (5 page)

“H
ow's Althea doing? I haven't seen much of her lately. Any reason for that, Nate?”

The question held an underlying accusation, one Nate was waiting to hear from Lilly.

He gave her credit. He'd been expecting to be called on the carpet way before now. Lilly was like a mother to him and his brothers. And she was originally from the south.

The combination was a one-two punch, and
she never had a problem speaking her mind to any of them.

He turned away from staring out of the large bay window in the kitchen to face her.

He crossed his arms across his chest, watching as she finished chopping vegetables and scraped them into the large, simpering stockpot on the stove.

“I haven't given the woman a thought, Miss Lilly.
Left that up to my brothers. I wouldn't be the one to
ask how she's doing,” he lied glibly.

After his last confrontation with her, she had been on his mind so much that it had played havoc with his concentration, making it damn near impossible for him to rid the image of her shy, hesitant smile, or the way her lips, soft, sweet, had feathered across his.

Or the feeling in his gut when he remembered the way her face had fallen, her liquid brown
eyes had held a wealth of emotion for that brief moment—lust, sadness, and finally anger, all because of him.

He blew out a breath and grabbed the back of his shoulder with a hand, the knot of tension building since their encounter days ago.

With a large wooden spoon in hand, Lilly slowly stirred the contents of the large stockpot, not saying a word, leaving him to his own ruminations.

Not
only was Nate aware of how Althea was “doing,” he knew
what
the woman was doing, at any given time. He'd made sure of it.

But when he'd seen Holt with her, although he'd told himself good riddance, unbidden, unreasonable jealousy reared. He knew Holt. Knew that his brother would find it damn impossible to
not
try and charm the woman right out of her panties. The man was a legend around the local
town of Landers.

But he had no right to say anything, had given his brother the go-ahead to keep her out of his way.

When he'd spied the two of them near the stables, he'd watched as Holt had helped her into the saddle, his hand hovering too damn close to her curvy backside for Nate's
comfort level. Realizing the unreasonable jealousy he felt, he'd angrily spun around to leave. Before he could
she turned and caught his eyes.

The smile on her face, one that caught his breath, slowly slipped away when they made eye contact, and Nate could practically feel the tension oozing from her slight body.

The two of them had stared at one another for so long, it had taken Holt's presence to break them out of their mutual absorption in each other.

Holt's wide, easy grin split his face as he caught
sight of Nate, and with his eyes on Nate's, had grasped her around the waist and pulled her from the horse, keeping his arms around her for longer than necessary. Nate had turned on his heels, abruptly leaving the pair without a word. He'd heard his irritating brother's deep bark of laughter trail behind him on the wind.

 

“If you have something to say, Miss Lilly, say it,” Nate bit out, irritated
more with himself than with her. Over the last few days he'd sunk to new levels, asking the workers about Althea, where she was and the job she was doing, not trusting himself to ask his brothers, fearing what he'd do to one of them, particularly Holt, depending on the answer.

Lilly continued stirring the pot as though she didn't hear him. Finally she placed the spoon on the trivet in the center
of the oven, wiped her hands down her faded apron and faced Nate.

“Don't you think it's time you let that go?”

“What's that got to do with Althea? One has nothing to do with the other.”

Nate didn't pretend ignorance. He knew what she was referring to. Or who. Angela, the woman he was engaged to two years ago, the reason he no longer allowed women on the ranch.

“It has everything and nothing
to do with her,” she replied, softly.

“You can't have it both ways, Miss Lilly.”

“Don't get smart, boy. You know what I mean,” she shot back, lifting the spoon from the trivet and waving it in his direction.

“It has everything to do with you and what you've become since you allowed that…woman,” she started, on a roll now, hands on hips squaring off against him. “Since you allowed Angela to
get you all twisted into knots. Let what she did to you sour you on women…on life, love.”

“I don't have time for this, I—”

“Don't you walk away from me, Nathan Hunter Wilde.”

Although she spoke in a low voice, her tone stopped Nate dead in his tracks. And the fact that she said his full name. He knew better than to ignore her when she was in full-on rant mode.

“I raised you and I know the
kind of man you are. You're a strong man. You got hurt, and you've got your pride. I understand that. Okay, deal with it. Move on, or be this way for the rest of your life. It's your decision. But taking out on all women what one did is not only stupid but it's getting old, Nate. Real old. It's time to move on. Put on your big-boy shorts and deal with it.”

Nate felt a smile threaten to break
free, despite his irritation at Lilly's interference into his life and his overall sour mood.

That was all she'd said, but it had been enough.

So much so that Nate now found himself doing something he never thought he would, purposely seeking out Althea.

Ignoring the tension between them, the reason for it, wasn't going to make it go away. The sooner he faced her, this…whatever it was between
them…the sooner he could get her out of his mind, his thoughts, once and for all.

“Are you busy?”

Nathan Wilde's deep voice broke into Althea's thoughts.

Spinning around she came face-to-face with the man who had been playing havoc with her mind during the day, her body at night as he crept his way into her dreams regularly since the day they met.

“I…I didn't know you were around,” she lied,
swallowing down the melon-size ball of anxiety. Although she hadn't seen him, as usual she'd been aware of him the minute he came within a fifty-foot radius of her.

It was late afternoon, and after finishing work, she'd been at loose ends and had wandered over to watch the men break in a new steer. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

Standing so close to Nathan Wilde, his scent, his
heady unique smell reached out and strangled her. Taking a step
back, she put as much distance between them as she could without it being too noticeable, her hip bumping against the wood railing.

Her gaze went over him. Dressed in what she'd come to think of as typical cowboy wear, he wore a fleece-lined sheepskin jacket, worn jeans and equally worn cowboy boots. But on him, the traditional fare
was anything but.

The jeans hugged his thick, muscular legs, the jacket, unzipped, revealed a plaid shirt, the top buttons undone and a sprinkling of dark hair at the V peeking through.

When he stopped in front of her he removed the ever-present Stetson he wore, revealing a face that again made her breath catch at the back of her throat.

“Ms. Dayton?” He broke into her thoughts, and Althea
fought against the heat she felt raising to her cheeks. Standing there just staring at the man, he probably thought she was a few bricks shy of a load.

“Althea…please call me Althea, Mr. Wilde,” she murmured, extending an olive branch. When he didn't return the favor, inviting her to call him by his first name, she pulled herself upright, straightening her shoulders.

She reached a hand up to
try and push a strand of hair back into her ponytail, the biting wind blowing the errant strands across her cheeks.

She raised startled eyes in his direction when he reached a gloved hand out and pushed the strand back up into her hair. Moistening her bottom lip with her tongue, she thanked him, her voice hoarse.

“I'm going out to the south pasture. Wondered if you'd be interested in going
along?”

Althea tried, but knew she failed, to prevent the surprise from showing. For him to actually invite her to be with him was no less than startling. She was still reeling from their last encounter.

Which was why she'd gone out of her way to avoid any interaction or contact with him the few times she'd seen him over the past few days. And he seemed just as determined to avoid her.

Over
the days, although the ranch was large, and there was work to be done literally from sunup to sundown, from baling hay, moving cattle, tending the various acres and a myriad of other duties, this was the first time she'd seen him since the time he'd accused her of…God only knew what the man had been accusing her of…in nearly a week.

She glanced up at Nate's scowling face, the way his thick, smooth
brows met in the middle, studying her as though she were an object under his own personal microscope.

“Well? Are you ready? Can you come with me?”

“Ready for what?”

Althea felt her heart kick against her ribs at the unmistakable light that entered his light brown eyes, his casual but thorough perusal of her…before his gaze settled on her lips.

“Ready to come with me.”

Dear God.

Did he have
to phrase it in that way? With that deep, sexy voice of his?

Her glance ran over his face, down the line of his
strong neck, to the pulse that beat at the hollow of his throat before trailing back up to meet his gaze.

Again his eyes were on her mouth. She blew out a small breath, remembering the smell of his minty breath mingling with hers, the way his mouth slanted over hers, the brief but
incredibly erotic taste of his lips on hers.

Her tongue snaked out to swipe across the bottom rim.

Although he'd answered in a neutral tone, the underlying thread of sexual tension racing between them gave his answer an
entirely
different meaning.

 

Nate stared down at the woman in front of him. She'd asked him what he was ready for.

The immediate answer to her question that came to mind
was one he knew would get him in trouble if he dared utter it.

He found his gaze settling on her lips, the sexy curve of her bottom rim, the slight bow at the corners, before he dragged his eyes back to hers.

He recalled the feel of her lips brushing against his. The shy way her small tongue darted out and tangled with his for their brief yet erotically charged kiss, the kiss, the feel of her
body on his replaying in his mind over and over throughout the last week, so much so that he woke up nightly, sweat pouring, his own hand on his shaft, wishing it were her instead who fisted him.

“Ready to come with me.” He forced the answer past clenched jaws.

Her brow furrowed, her mouth pursed, a question forming. Before she could speak, he finished, “I heard you've been getting a real good
sample of life around
here. Thought you'd be interested in going out with me to one of the lower pastures to witness a live birth. The hands just called the vet, she's about to give birth any moment. The vet could always use a couple of extra pair of hands. It's pretty bloody, though. And probably a pretty difficult birth. The cow mated with one of our larger bulls, and the calf is going to be
a big one. Don't know if you'd be interested…” He allowed the question to dangle, stopping. He felt like a damn adolescent asking a girl he was crushing on for a first date.

“Yes, I'd…I'd love to,” she answered, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth. When her face lit up, he nodded shortly, ignoring the kick of his heart at the way the smile transformed her face.

“Don't know how well
you ride, so we'll take my truck…”

“Oh, I know how to ride. I love to ride!”

“Two lessons with my brother and you're a regular equestrian,” he stated more than asked, realizing too late how telling his admission was.

After the first lesson Holt had given her, Nate had made it his business to learn of any subsequent lessons, not trusting his brother alone with the woman. He'd told himself it
was because he didn't want Holt taking advantage of her as an employee, yet knew that wasn't the case.

“How'd you know about the second lesson?” she asked, a curious look crossing her face, pulling a frown between her brows.

Nate ran his fingers across her brows and removed the frown. When he saw her draw in a breath, he allowed
his fingers to stay for a fraction longer before he pulled away.

“I know everything that goes on, on my ranch.”

Without another word he cupped her beneath the elbow and steered her toward the stables, her body tucked close to his.

J
ust as Nate had predicted, the birth was long, bloody and difficult to watch.

And Althea seemed to love every minute of it.

The cow, average in size, had already mated before Nate had purchased it, to a much larger European breed. Something he and his brothers never did with their own cattle, as the calf was less likely to survive and many times the cow died as well during the
difficult birth. Throughout the birthing, although his focus had been on the health of the cow and her calf, Nate's attention had been drawn, countless times, to Althea. He'd watched her with what he couldn't deny was growing fascination and attraction.

Without hesitancy she'd helped, no matter what was needed. Although he and Dr. Crandall were there, along
with an additional ranch hand, the
difficulty of the birth added tension and stress to the situation, and every hand was needed.

But more than anything, he'd found his gaze drawn to her face, the expressions alternating between awe and amazement, to sympathy for the cow's pain, particularly when a tough contraction hit the animal.

At one point their gazes had connected, and to his amazement he'd seen the sheen of tears in her
dark brown eyes before she hastily glanced away.

Without being asked, she stooped down near the cow's head, running a shaky hand over its face, whispering soothing words to the animal, much as she had with the horse the first day he'd met her.

When she began to hum softly, the animal's cries lessened, its ears flickering, the fear in its eyes diminishing. Nathan felt a part of his heart stir,
unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

He'd watched and assisted in more births than he could count. And although this one was by no means an easy birth, the vet having to reach inside the cow to reposition the calf more than once, it wasn't the worst he'd ever witnessed.

Yet Althea's empathetic response to the animal's stress made it almost feel as though he were experiencing it for the first
time, along with her.

When the calf finally made its appearance, his attention went first to Althea, and he saw the relieved smile cross her mouth, the impractical tears that ran unchecked down her smooth cheeks.

She glanced up at him at the same moment. He felt
an answering smile, unknown to him, lift one corner of his mouth as the two of them shared the moment together.

When he bent to assist
the vet, pulling the calf the last few inches from its mother's womb, from his side vision he saw Althea rise.

“You did it, girl.” As the cow stumbled to its feet, she brushed a hand over its neck, moving out of the way to allow it stand.

“You're a mama now, Bessie, congratulations!” She laughed, sniffing away at the tears.

“Bessie?” he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching.

She turned
toward him and gave a little shrug of her shoulders, the grin still in place. “I don't know…the name seems to fit. Besides, all new mommies deserve a name.”

“And you have experience in that?”

She tilted her head, frowning, the remnants of her smile still in place. “In cow naming? Can't say that I have. I've named a few dogs in my time. A few cats as well. I even named a chipmunk once.” The humor
lurking in her eyes brightened. She shrugged one shoulder again. “I can't say that I've ever named a cow before, though.”

Nate nodded his head, going along with her, as though it was perfectly normal to name a chipmunk. “And what did you name the chipmunk?”

“Alvin, of course,” Althea replied, straight-faced.

After her lame quip, he groaned and a raspy chuckle escaped from his sensual lips,
the sound rusty, as though
it had been a while since he'd laughed. Dr. Crandall chose that moment to glance at both of them briefly, his head moving from one to the other, a smile coming to his tired face before he turned back to the calf.

“Funny woman. You got jokes, huh?”

Althea laughed outright, her mood brightening.

She didn't know if it was watching the amazing birth, or the fact that
she'd helped in some small way in bringing a life into the world…or the fact that she was with Nate Wilde, but suddenly she felt lighter…less burdened.

“I've been known to, once or twice.” She paused, her glance gliding over Nate's face, noticing the smile that lingered around his sensual, full lips making her heart skip a beat.

“You…you have a nice smile, Mr. Wilde.” She hadn't known she was
going to say the words even as they flew out of her mouth. Or what possessed her to say them in the first place.

When she saw his smile drop away, Althea wished she could retract her comment. One day spent together didn't mean the man liked her, or had even changed his opinion of her.

“Nate,” he said, after a brief pause. “Call me Nate,” he finished, his voice gruff.

The small concession he
gave shouldn't have made her heartbeat quicken, shouldn't have meant a thing to Althea.

But it did.

“Well, if you two are done with the introductions…
Miss Bessie and Bessie Jr. did quite well, I'd have to say!” The veterinarian broke in, dragging Nate's attention reluctantly away from Althea.

“Yeah, that they did, Dr. Crandall.”

Dr. Crandall had been with the ranch from as early as Nate could
remember, dating back to his foster father's early days when he'd first bought the land. He'd been the first and only vet that Clint Wilde had hired to help him with his then-struggling ranch. As the vet had been new to the area, as well as being the first and only black veterinarian to set up shop in Landers, Wyoming, it had been a slow and difficult building of his practice.

But Clint Wilde
hadn't cared about the color of Dr. Crandall's skin, had only cared that he could help him take care of the animals' medical needs on his struggling ranch.

From there the two men had forged a friendship that lasted Clint's lifetime. When Clint Wilde had died seven years ago, although there were plenty of other vets in the area the Wilde men could have hired, there was no thought to replace Doc
Crandall. He, like all the others who were a part of the ranch, was family.

Nate helped Dr. Crandall to his feet. For a moment, as he watched the older man struggle to his feet, he wondered how long it would be before he retired. He handed him his cane.

As though reading Nate's thoughts, Dr. Crandall looked across at him, a tired smile creasing his lined cheeks, and slapped him on the back.

Hard.

Nate barely stopped from pitching forward at the hearty slap, and caught the twinkle in the older man's fading dark brown eyes.

“I ain't dead yet, son…plenty of time for me to keep on practicing. Besides, soon, Yasmine will be joining me,” he said, pride shining in his eyes as he mentioned his daughter. He glanced around. “Think you all can handle the cleanup, son?” he asked, and Nate
nodded.

“Yes sir, we can handle the rest. Marc here will help,” he said, nodding toward the cowboy who'd been helping with the birthing.

“Good enough.” He glanced down at the watch on his wrist. “Been a long day, time for me to head on back home. The wife and I are expecting Yasmine to call and let us know when her flight is in.”

“She's coming back soon, then?” Nate asked as he walked alongside
Dr. Crandall, subtly keeping his hand near the old man's back in case he needed assistance.

From his side vision he saw Althea watching him and Dr. Crandall, the look of longing on her face surprising him. She quickly glanced away, but not before he saw the shimmer in her dark eyes.

He turned away reluctantly.

They'd worked side by side over the last few hours, and the more he was around her,
the more he wanted to know about her.

The more he wanted to dig into her history and discover what secrets her dark eyes held hidden and locked away.

“Not for another couple of months. I got her ticket a bit early is all,” the vet replied. Nate felt the love and pride the old man had for his only daughter, who'd
recently completed veterinary school and after a year doing a residency in Cheyenne
and was returning to help her father in his clinic.

Before they left, Dr. Crandall turned toward Althea. “You are welcome at any time, to help me in any way whenever I come by, miss. You are an amazing young woman.”

She simply nodded her head, thanking him silently, but Nate saw the way the vet's casual words affected her.

“I'll be back, and we can head out.”

 

Left alone with the ranch hand,
Althea stood out of the man's way as he took care of the duties of cleaning up, watching with a smile on her face as the mother, once the afterbirth had been expelled, had lain back down, her calf already rooting around, searching for milk.

By the time Nate had returned, another ranch hand had come to help. His glance fell to Althea. Noting the tired look on her face, he motioned for her to come
with him.

“You look tired. I think it's time we called it a night.”

She smiled at him, replying, “I could say the same of you,” as she walked toward him. He waited until she was by his side and extended his hand.

“I think it's time we both called it a night.”

He saw the flicker of indecision enter her eyes. He waited while she made the decision. The knowledge hovered between the two of them,
that her taking his hand was her acceptance of what had been brewing between the two of them since their first meeting.

It was an acknowledgment of what was to come.

Taking the decision away from her, he grasped her by the hand. He briefly gave his men final instructions and turned with her to leave the stable.

The time for waiting was over.