What a Man Needs (10 page)

“So, I'm not the spoiled, pain-in-the-butt actress you first thought I was?”

He enjoyed the playful bantering. “You're a pain in the butt, but it's a cute butt.”

“I'm glad you think so, but I'm still going to pay you what we agreed on. I don't renege on anything. Since you helped me with my dream, I'm happy to help you with yours.”

“I'm not taking your money.” He wasn't angry,
just stern. He tugged Ace's reins and turned around, then took off.

Cyndi was right on his heels, and by the time he reached the creek, she was nearly beside him. He slowed, then climbed down. She did the same and walked her horse to the water. “I'm going to pay you. We had a deal.”

“That's before we made it personal.”

“It was personal from that first night.”

“I don't care. Dammit, I'm not taking your money.”

She was silent for a long time, then said, “Would you take the studio's money?”

“What do you mean?”

“If I get this part in the movie, I'll make sure that it's put in my contract that you get paid for my riding lessons.”

He frowned. “You can do that?”

She nodded. “Yes, I can. In fact, if you like, I can use your name as a reference and send you all kinds of business.”

“Oh, no.” He raised a hand. “I don't think I'm ready for that.”

She looked him in the eye. “You mean you wouldn't want a bevy of Hollywood beauties hanging on your every word?”

No. He only wanted one beauty. He was itch
ing to have her in his arms again. He couldn't touch her yet, or it would be all over. “I think one is plenty for me to handle.”

“Oh, yeah? You think you can handle me?” She walked up to him with that dangerous, totally feminine rhythm that made his heart race.

He was in big trouble. “No, but I'm willing to give it one helluva try.”

Cyndi stood close enough that he could smell her. Hot, sexy and all female. She made him hurt. She slid her hands around his waist, then stood up on her toes and pressed a kiss on his mouth. “I'm ready whenever you are.”

It only took Patrick seconds to secure the horses, take the rolled blanket from his saddle and spread it on the grassy slope. Then he turned to her and held out a hand.

She didn't hesitate, and let him lead her to the blanket. He peeled her T-shirt over her head, then she removed his. He wanted her so desperately it frightened him. He could lie and say that it was because he hadn't been with anyone in a long time, but it was all Cyndi. He finished stripping off her clothes and laid her back, eager to get another taste of her.

Cynthia welcomed the kiss, taking everything he gave her. She couldn't explain what was happening and hated to analyze things. That was
Kelly's job. Even knowing Patrick could break her heart, she trusted him as she had trusted no other man. As much as he kept to himself, he didn't seem to have any trouble giving to her. His kisses grew more intimate; they traced from the soles of her feet up her legs to the heart of her. Patrick was taking her to that special place where no one else had ever taken her. She felt a rush of sensation when he moved over her and entered her body. Her spine arched, her pulse rushed as the feeling escalated within her. What she'd thought was only lust was so much more.

It was magic.

 

It had been an incredible day.

By afternoon, Patrick and Cyndi rode back to the corral. They'd probably stayed longer at the creek than they should have, but he hadn't played hooky in a long time. Years.

He couldn't help but grin as he thought back to how they'd spent their time. He should take a day off more often. Patrick glanced at Cyndi as she rode Daisy. Her hair was mussed and her cute nose was red from the sun. His gaze moved to her blouse as her breasts moved up and down with the rhythm of the horse. She smiled at him, and a rush of heat shot to his groin.

“You'd better stop looking at me that way, or we won't make it home for hours,” he warned.

She laughed. “You are insatiable.”

He shrugged. “I didn't hear you complaining.”

“And you never will. Why don't we continue this back at the house?” she suggested. “The first one to the gate gets to shower first.” She kicked her heels into Daisy and shot off.

Patrick was caught off guard by Cyndi's antics, but quickly made up the distance. Once close enough, he reached over and grabbed her around the waist, then pulled her off the galloping Daisy. Cyndi gasped as she ended up in his lap. He pulled up on the reins to slow his horse, then he lifted her tight against him, aware that she hadn't fought him as she'd been snatched from the saddle.

“Yeah, you move pretty smooth,” he told her.

“Years of gymnastics. I've had to do a lot of stunts over the years.” She settled against him. Her shapely bottom rested on his lap. Her arms went around his neck. “Now that you have me, what do you plan to do with me?”

He started to lean down to whisper in her ear when he saw the Mercedes sedan come down the road, then pull up at the house. Kelly Reynolds climbed out of the car.

He didn't even try to keep the disappointment from his voice. “I think we've got company.”

 

Cynthia held on to Patrick as he lowered her from the horse. She retrieved Daisy, who had stopped just outside the corral fence.

“Come on, girl. You've had a busy day.” She led the horse through the gate.

Patrick came up behind her and took her mount. “Go talk with your sister.”

“I didn't know she was coming out.” Cynthia frowned. Kelly wouldn't drive all the way out here unless it was important. “Maybe she's here to see Forest.”

They both glanced toward the house and saw Forest greeting Kelly. “One can always hope,” Patrick said.

“I'll see what she wants, then I'll take care of Daisy.”

Patrick kissed her hard and quick. “I'd rather you come back and tend to me.”

“Later,” she promised, and took off to see Kelly.

Cynthia had been enjoying her stay in Portland. Normally she wasn't able to spend so much time with her sister. They both had busy careers.

She heard laughter as she approached the couple. “Sounds like you two are having fun.”

Forest was the first to turn around. “I guess it's contagious. Have a nice ride?”

She blushed. “Yes, you have some beautiful country around here.”

“And I bet Pat showed you the best places.” His grin widened. “Well, I'll let you two visit.” He looked at Kelly. “See you tomorrow night?”

Kelly nodded. “Seven o'clock.”

The women watched as Forest walked away. He didn't look too bad either, Cynthia thought. His jeans encased muscular thighs and a tight rear, though not as nice as Patrick's. She figured Kelly might disagree.

“I take it the two of you are dating,” she said finally.

“It's actually our first official date.”

“So this thing between you and Forest, is it going somewhere?”

Kelly shrugged. “Could be. Did you know that Forest has an MBA and was a VP of a large software company? He gave it all up about eight years ago because it was consuming his life.”

“No, I didn't know that. Life is full of surprises. Did anything else bring you out here?”

“Yeah, I'm heading over to the shelter for a consultation. Thought you'd like to go with me.”

Cynthia looked toward the barn where Patrick
was brushing down one of the horses in the corral.

“Come on, your cowboy can get along without you for a few hours. I swear I'll have you back in time for supper.”

Cynthia decided that since Patrick had spent the day with her, he probably needed to get things done. Besides, she didn't want him to think that she was too clingy—even if that was what she wanted to be. She wanted him to feel possessive about her, too.

“Sure, I'd love to go. I need a shower, and to tell Patrick.” She started to walk toward the corral when her sister stopped her.

“I'm short on time. You go shower and I'll tell Patrick about our plans.”

Reluctantly, Cynthia agreed, then walked off toward the house, already missing her cowboy.

 

“Cyndi, you came to see me,” Davy Cooke cheered as he ran toward her in the shelter's lobby.

“Yes, I did.” She knelt down to be at eye level with the seven-year-old. Her gaze raked over the boy, eager to gauge his well-being. “How have you been?”

“Okay. I haven't been in trouble one time, so I get to go ride with Patrick next time,” he said proudly. “How's Daisy?”

“She's fine. I've been taking real good care of her.”

Cynthia stood and looked around the government building, at the basic cream and green walls, the metal desks and worn furniture, the bare floors. At least Davy was healthy and well fed. But were those the most important things? What about a family? People to love him? Several other kids hung nearby, just close enough to share Davy's visitor. There were also counselors who were impressed to see the movie actress in their shelter. There were times when Cynthia liked her famous status, especially when she'd been allowed into a protected children's shelter.

The director of the shelter approached her. She was a woman of about forty with short brown hair and warm hazel eyes. “I'm Betty Moore. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Reynolds. I've been a fan of yours for so long.”

They shook hands. “Please, call me Cyndi.”

“I get to call her that, too,” Davy said. “'Cause we're friends.”

“We sure are,” Cynthia agreed.

“Where's Patrick?” Davy asked.

“He's at the ranch, taking care of the horses. He has a lot of work to do. But you'll see him in a few days.”

“I know, but I miss him. He's my friend.” The boy's head lowered as he stared down at the floor. “He talks to me a lot.” Then those big eyes met hers. “Guy stuff.”

“That's good, because Patrick only has sisters and they don't talk guy stuff.”

He nodded in agreement, then watched her a minute. “You like Patrick, too.”

“Yes, I do. He's helping me learn to ride.” Cynthia looked at Betty. “I'm going out for a movie role where I have to ride a horse. I'd appreciate it if you kept that to yourself.”

“Oh, darn. I was hoping to make a million, selling that to the tabloids.”

Cyndi grinned. “I doubt that info is worth that much.”

One of the other boys yelled for Davy. He waved, then looked back at Cynthia. “I've gotta go. Will you come back and see me again?”

Betty sent her a warning look. Cyndi knew not to make any promises she might not be able to keep. “I'll try. Can I write you a letter?”

“Yeah, I guess that's cool.” Davy put out his hand for her to shake.

Cynthia realized she wanted more. She leaned down. “Do you think we're good enough friends that I can have a hug?”

“Sure.” He went into her open arms, but she felt him stiffen as if he were holding back his feelings. It broke her heart.

“I care about you, Davy,” she whispered. “If you ever need anything, you just talk to Kelly.” She pointed to her sister, who was talking with one of the counselors. “She'll be coming here every week. Or tell Nora. She can call me.”

Davy nodded, then sadness clouded his eyes. “You're never going to come back and see me, are you?”

Cynthia didn't know how to answer him. She'd spent years avoiding any involvement. It had always been safer. A way to protect herself. But this little boy had gotten to her, and she couldn't abandon him. “I'm going to try.”

That didn't seem to encourage him, but he nodded. Then he shot off to be with friends.

Cynthia brushed the tears from her eyes as she stood.

Betty put her hand on her arm. “These kids' stories will break your heart, but Davy especially got to us. He acts tough, but he's had a miserable life for someone so young.”

“How do you do this all the time?” Cynthia asked.

“There are good days and bad days, but I love
these kids. And I hope that in some small way I help them.” Betty looked at her and smiled. “You would make a good counselor. Ever think seriously about giving up fame and fortune to help out people like us?”

Cynthia realized she just might have more than one dream….

C
ynthia came rushing through the back door around six that evening. She dropped the restaurant take-out on the counter and looked around, finding the kitchen empty. She was relieved that Patrick wasn't home yet. That would give her time to get dinner ready.

She'd talked Kelly into stopping off at an Italian restaurant in town to pick up dinner to go. Tonight, she wanted to make a quiet, romantic meal for just the two of them. She'd picked up a bottle of wine at a local winery and hoped that Patrick
would like her effort. Kelly also had her own plans for Forest. She was bringing him supper at his place.

Cynthia quickly set the table, then went in search of candles. After going through the kitchen cabinets and drawers, she ended up at the hutch in the dining room. Inside the mahogany cabinet she discovered beautiful china and crystal goblets. She left them alone, but decided to use some napkins from the drawer.

That was when she found the photo album. Her curiosity made her go through the book. The pictures of a much younger Patrick with freckles and a buzz-cut had her smiling. His sisters were all cute, with different stages of hair length and missing teeth. She turned the page and found a picture of a handsome couple. The man was tall and good-looking, with dark hair and eyes. His tall and muscular build was identical to Patrick's. The beautiful woman beside him was tiny and blond, and Cynthia could see so much of Nora in her. These were obviously Patrick's parents.

Suddenly she realized that she wasn't alone. Cynthia turned and saw Patrick. He didn't seem happy to see her.

“Hi,” she said. “I didn't hear you come in.”

“I wasn't sure if you'd be back or not, since you didn't say a word to me about leaving.”

“Kelly told you I was going to be with her.”

He nodded. “She did.” He was still frowning.

She could see that hadn't appeased him. “Good. I hope you like Italian because I brought dinner home. I was just looking for some candles.” She was embarrassed. “I found these pictures.”

He walked across the room and shut the album. “There are candles in the kitchen.” He put the book back in the drawer and shut it, clearly indicating that he didn't want her nosing into his business.

“I'm sorry, Patrick, I didn't mean to invade your privacy,” she told him. He had every right to his secrets, but it still hurt. “You don't have to worry. I won't do it again.”

She started to leave when he reached for her and drew her to him. He stared into her eyes, then cursed before his mouth crushed hers. It was a kiss that started hard and deep and just kept coming, consuming her. When he released her, she swayed and had to grip the back of the chair.

“I take it I'm forgiven for my snooping?”

He smiled, but still looked tense. Then he kissed her again.

“I take it you aren't hungry for food?” she asked.

He just cocked an eyebrow and she suddenly lost her appetite…for Italian.

 

Much later that night they sat on Patrick's bed, at a makeshift dining area on top of the rumpled sheets, eating reheated lasagna. After he and Cyndi had made love, she'd insisted on serving him dinner. He had to admit he was hungry, but after Cyndi pulled on his shirt, he had trouble keeping his thoughts on food. His imagination was working overtime as he looked at her long, smooth legs, especially when she moved and more skin got exposed.

He was about to swallow but his gaze fastened on the one button between her breasts. Their fullness caused a gap in the material, teasing him, making him ache for her again.

“How's your food?” she asked.

“Huh?” He hated that he couldn't seem to think about anything but her. And now that he'd brought her into his bed, he'd never be able to get her out of his head. The way she felt against him, the way she made soft sounds against his ear that made him crazy.

“I asked, how's your lasagna?” she repeated.

“Good.” He couldn't taste a thing. “You said you went to the shelter. Did you see Davy?”

“I did.” She smiled. “And he asked about you. He said you two talk about guy stuff. It's so sweet that you've taken time with him.”

Patrick shrugged. “It's only a few hours a week.” The last thing he wanted her to do was make something big out of this. He sure as hell wasn't sweet. Most of the time he was cranky and hard to live with.

“It's more than that. Davy knows you care about him. You've taken time with him. He needs a good male role model.” She set her plate on the tray, then reached across and placed a kiss on Patrick's mouth. “You're that man, Patrick Tanner.”

“Believe me, I'm far from it.”

“I disagree.” She studied him. “What about how you stepped in after your parents died? You raised your sisters and somehow managed to run this ranch.”

He shrugged and pushed his plate aside. He'd lost his appetite. “You just do what you have to do.”

“Do your other sisters live close by?”

“Janie lives in Bend, Oregon, with her husband, Mike, and their son, Brad. She's an elementary school teacher. Karen is an accountant in Salem and married to a good guy named Tom. No children.”

“You put the girls through college?”

He shook his head. “They all got scholarships, school loans and jobs. I helped out as much as possible.”

“You could have taken the easy road, Patrick, and let them go into foster care.” She took another bite of food.

Patrick stiffened. “No, I'd never have let that happen. I wouldn't give the old man that satisfact—” He stopped abruptly.

Cynthia watched Patrick close up as he got off the bed and went to the closet. He took a shirt off the hanger. “I need to check the horses,” he told her as he grabbed his jeans off the floor and pulled them on over his boxers. Zipping them, he looked at her. “I'll be gone awhile. You should probably try to get some sleep tonight.” With those final words, he walked out of the room.

Cynthia's heart tightened. Suddenly she felt like an intruder. What had changed in a matter of moments? All she had done was ask about his family. Every time she tried to get to know the man, he'd close up and pull away. He definitely didn't want to share personal information about himself.

Just because she and Patrick had shared a physical relationship didn't mean that he wanted more,
she reminded herself. The only time he seemed to express any feelings had been when he'd made love to her. It was too late to heed her own warning for caution; she already cared for the man. And she knew he cared about her, too. But he hadn't been foolish enough to fall in love as she had.

Cynthia got up and cleared the dishes from the bed. She smoothed the sheets, where just a short time ago Patrick had made love to her. She felt the tears gather behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. After disposing of the trash, she went back to her own bedroom.

Cynthia knew she had to think ahead to life after Patrick. So she concentrated on her trip back to L.A., and her reading for the female lead in
Cheyenne.
An overnighted copy of the script sat untouched on her bedside table. She hadn't had much of a chance to look at it. She'd been too busy with riding and spending time with Patrick.

Normally she put her career first. But for days she'd ignored the script on her nightstand. Sure looked like she would have plenty of time now.

Still wearing Patrick's chambray shirt, she climbed in bed, leaned back against the headboard and turned to the first page of the script. She had
a few days to become the young widow, Ellie Brighten, who survived the death of her husband when Indians burned her home, leaving her alone to run the ranch. Somehow, single-handedly, Ellie survives and raises her son and finds love again with another man, Zachary Payne. Everything taken care of in the end.

Cynthia sighed. Only in the movies.

 

Well after midnight, unable to sleep, Patrick went to the barn so he wouldn't end up knocking on Cyndi's door. He knew he'd hurt her earlier. But it had been the only way he'd been able to let her know that he could never be the man she needed.

He would never give his heart again, never leave himself open to hurt. And he had to stop Cyndi from making him out to be something he never could be.

A long time ago he'd stopped believing in any fantasies of happily ever after. People only ended up hurting each other. Look at his parents, and Gwen.

As a victim of abuse, there was a good chance he'd repeat the scenario and turn out to be like his father. He thought back to the times when he'd lost his temper and barely managed to control his anger.

He drew a long breath. He'd never forget his mother, the terror in her eyes whenever her husband had come home drunk. All the pleading and begging she'd done as Mick Tanner's fist connected with her face.

Oh, God, he never wanted to see that fear in Cyndi's eyes.

Patrick opened the barn door and went inside. The dim lights lined a pathway down the concrete aisle. He went to each gate, checked the occupants and stroked them as he made his way to the end stall. He heard a familiar voice coming from Daisy's quarters. Cyndi.

What was she doing here?

Patrick stood back, not wanting to disturb her, but he couldn't leave, either. That had been the danger of Cynthia Reynolds. He couldn't seem to stay away from her. She'd drawn him in from the beginning, more than any woman he'd ever known.

Cyndi's soft, throaty voice drew him. To whom was she talking? He stepped closer, but stayed in the shadows.

“You don't understand, Zach,” Cyndi spoke, then glanced down at the papers in her hand.

A script?

“I can't do this again,” she continued. “I can't
let myself rely on another man. Someone who could make me depend on him. Who could make me weak.” She paced, her head down. “I loved my husband, and I was so alone after Jake was killed I didn't want to go on.” She raised a small, clenched fist in the air as she continued to read to her audience—Daisy.

“My God! I didn't even care about my child, my home—nothing. The pain consumed me so that I wanted to die.” Patrick heard tears in Cyndi's voice. “Please, Zachary, understand if I let myself feel again…I'll lose myself. And I never want to feel that helpless again, no matter how much I love you. So I can't marry you, Zachary Payne. I can't. I just can't.”

Damn she had him mesmerized.

There was a long silence, then he heard Cyndi blow out a breath. “How'd I do, Daisy?” Her voice was back to normal.

The mare bobbed her head and whinnied softly.

“Oh, Daisy. This is such a great part. I had no idea. I was so busy learning to ride, I forgot the most important thing. The acting. Thanks for your help. Oh, I'm going to miss you,” Cyndi said to the horse. “In a million years I never thought that I'd be able to be this close to a horse. Now I can't imagine not riding every day. I'm going to miss
you and this place, its beauty and peacefulness. And of course I'll miss Forest, Kevin and Nora.”

Cyndi sniffed and wiped her eyes. “And I need you to do me a favor and look after Davy. That little boy needs someone to care about him. And Patrick, too.” She patted the horse. “Of course you love him. Who wouldn't love a stubborn, bull-headed, handsome man who takes care of kids and animals? He works too hard and keeps to himself. That's not good.”

Patrick hated that she could see through him so easily. Hell, he liked his life. He didn't need anything more. And even if he did, he couldn't give someone like Cyndi what she needed. She would never be happy here…with him.

Before he could get away, Cyndi stepped out of the stall and saw him. She gasped. “Patrick, what are you doing here?”

He tried to act nonchalant. “It's my barn.”

Cynthia hugged herself, realizing all she had on was Patrick's shirt and a pair of sandals. He noticed, too. “I meant, I was just surprised to find anyone here.”

“You shouldn't have come out here…alone.” He nodded to her attire. “Especially dressed like that.”

“I wasn't planning on seeing anyone. Just Daisy.”

“I'm not angry.” He came closer. “I was…worried.”

She didn't want him to be nice. “Don't, I'm fine. I've taken care of myself for a long time.” She started to go by him, but he stopped her.

“Cyndi, don't go yet.”

“Why? So you can walk away from me instead? Go ahead.” She motioned with her hand, holding her script. He didn't move.

“I'm sorry if I hurt you earlier.”

She ignored his half-assed apology. “I shouldn't have been surprised. You laid it all out for me from the first day. Our relationship was only business.” She started off, but didn't get far.

“But I didn't know how much I was going to come to care about you.”

She closed her eyes. He'd finally said the words she'd been longing to hear, but too late. Much too late. “Patrick, don't say anything you don't mean.”

“It's true. You're the sexiest woman I've ever met.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I'm not good with words. I've enjoyed being with you. You've made me laugh and it's been a long time since I've even thought about it. I care about you. I'm just not good at the commitment thing.”

“I didn't ask for one,” Cynthia said, though she knew she wanted one. Wasn't that what women in
love wanted? More than a few days or weeks with this man? But she doubted a lifetime with Patrick would be enough.

“I know you didn't.” He came closer. “Do you think we can go back to before? Even if we're just friends?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You want to be friends?”

“If that's what you want.”

God that hurt. How could he turn off so completely? “If you don't want me…”

There was a deep groan as he reached for her and drew her against him. “Dammit, Cyndi. Are you trying to drive me out of my mind? Of course I want you. With my every breath.”