Where Have All the Cowboys Gone? (9 page)

‘I’ll hold you to that, cowboy, and it’d better be worth my while.’

Grayson saddled two horses while Lauren went to feed the chickens. She seemed to have taken a motherly interest in them, which amused Gray immensely. It was hard not to laugh at her surprise at his ability to conduct business out in the wilds. But, if he wanted her to stay, it was vital she believed it.

His faint smile died. When she’d mentioned Prairie Dawg Boots, he’d almost choked. Of all the companies in the world why had she picked them? Of course, it wasn’t that much of a coincidence. When she got back to work and saw his name and his brother Jay’s at the top of Prairie Dawg Boots company notepaper she’d be wanting an explanation. He suspected she liked being lied to about as much as he did.

Hell, he hadn’t realised Lauren was meeting Barry Levarr, his business manager, in Vegas as well as the PBR guys. He left most of the everyday business to Jay and Barry anyway. By the time he’d worked it out, Lauren had already met, married and left him. What the heck was a guy to do when his life got so complicated?

Past experiences with grasping women who zeroed in on his wealth and connections and not his personality had made Gray cautious. Somehow he knew that presenting himself as both Lauren’s new client and her new husband would kill her passion stone dead. As he saw it, he had to make a choice.

His number-one priority was to get Lauren back to see if their marriage stood a chance of success. The business end of the relationship, his involvement with Prairie Dawg Boots, wasn’t important right now and it was only a tiny part of his holdings. Convincing Lauren to stay by buying into her cowboy fantasy was.

Gray slipped the bit into Foxy’s mouth. He couldn’t imagine Lauren choosing to mix her personal and professional lives; he’d have to persuade her. Foxy butted Gray in the stomach as if in agreement as he tightened the cinch.

He consoled himself with the thought that he hadn’t actually lied to Lauren – yet. He wanted Lauren to see beyond the cowboy fantasy and begin to want him for himself. Explaining his business activities would have to come later.

He just didn’t see her as a corporate wife, pushing him into expanding the business, using her father’s connections to ‘help’ him along.

Gray didn’t want that. He’d tried to please his father by entering the business world and it nearly destroyed him. Yeah, he had all the trappings of wealth and success but at the cost of his soul. Would Lauren understand that life on the ranch and arranging his other business interests around that suited him better?

He reckoned she would if he got up the nerve to be completely honest with her. She’d defied her own father hadn’t she? His problem was that she’d probably wish him well and disappear back to San Francisco without a backwards glance. Why was she so set against marriage? Surely he was the one who should be having doubts.

Lauren appeared at the barn door wearing one of his long-sleeved shirts tucked into her new jeans. Her soft brown hair was tied back and she wore no make-up. Gray struggled to remember the poised, fashion-plate of a woman who’d stepped off the plane a day earlier.

He checked Robbie’s cinch and watched Lauren pat Foxy’s neck. He didn’t bother to tell her what to do. Her assured manner around the horses reflected her knowledge and he was content to let her get on with it. He smothered a grin. No doubt she’d snap at him if he offered his help.

‘What are you smiling at, Grayson?’

Gray looked up from his task to find Lauren staring at him. ‘I was just thinking how nice you look in those jeans and how quickly I’m going to get you out of them.’

Lauren ducked her head to adjust the length of her stirrup but not before Gray saw her mouth curve in an inviting smile. He loved the way her mind worked, he loved the way he just had to look at her and his body hardened. It also confirmed his belief that her hard sheen of city gloss concealed a softer more generous centre.

Lauren squinted up at the cloudless sky as Grayson led the way across a field of uncut hay. In the silence, the swishing of the dry grass against her legs and the creaking of the saddle were the only sounds to mar the perfection of the afternoon. Grayson drew up alongside her and produced something from his saddlebag.

‘I got you a present while we were at Mrs Maxwell’s.’ He held out a dark-brown cowboy hat. ‘I think it’ll fit.’

Speechless, Lauren took the hat and smoothed her fingers over the soft supple leather.

Grayson gave her an apologetic grin. ‘I won’t tell you what it’s made of. Women tend to get squeamish about such things.’

Lauren recovered her voice and gave Grayson a mock frown. ‘That’s a very macho thing to say and not appreciated by your average twenty-first century woman.’

Grayson opened his mouth. Lauren set the hat on her head and shook her finger at him. ‘That doesn’t include me. I will cry if you tell me it’s made out of baby bunnies or cute beavers. I can’t help it, I grew up on Disney.’

As Grayson’s slate-blue eyes narrowed in amusement, Lauren took the opportunity to urge Foxy into a lope. Leaving Grayson behind, she prayed her butt wouldn’t be too sore by the end of the ride, but a girl had to make a point. She wasn’t surprised when he caught up with her, Robbie’s longer stride eating up the ground without effort.

From the slight rise at the edge of the field, he pointed across to the town settled in the river valley. Sunlight glinted off the distant windows and cars like scattered diamonds.

‘My land ends five miles from the edge of town. That’s where I intend to build the business park.’

Lauren tried to imagine the vast unspoiled expanse of agricultural land interrupted by the presence of functional structures. She turned in the saddle to study Grayson.

‘Are you sure you want to do this?’

His face was half-shadowed by the brim of his cowboy hat. His determined nod was answer enough.

Lauren sighed and busied herself patting Foxy’s warm neck. It was none of her business whatever Grayson chose to do. If she kept on interfering, he might assume she cared and she wasn’t prepared to get into that yet.

Grayson clicked at his horse and turned in a wide circle, then headed for a grove of oak trees. When they reached it, he dismounted and came to lift Lauren down. After hobbling the horses, he turned to her, his expression serious. He wrapped his fingers around her upper arm.

‘I know you’re not sure I’m doing the right thing, Lauren, but hear me out . . .’

Lauren held up her hand. ‘It’s OK. You have every right to decide what to do with your own land and community. I’m just a weekend guest. I don’t have to live here.’

Even as she said the words, she knew they weren’t completely true. Grayson’s trust in sharing his plans and seeking her opinion had come as a pleasant surprise. Her father never told her mother anything about his business life. Lauren had worked for his company for years and he’d never included her either. It was one of the reasons it had been so easy for her to walk away.

Grayson let go of her arm. She could’ve sworn she saw a flash of hurt in his eyes.

‘I forgot, Lauren. You’re only here for the sex, aren’t you?’ In swift jerky movements, Grayson pulled off his shirt. ‘Where would you like me, ma’am? On my knees or on my back?’

Lauren swallowed hard. ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’ She stepped forwards and placed her palm on his naked chest. His tanned skin was warm and slick with sweat, his heartbeat erratic.

‘I don’t have a right to make decisions that affect a whole community after a couple of days.’ She tried to smile. ‘You wouldn’t want my advice, anyway. My father always tells me my business decisions are worthless.’

Grayson stayed still under her touch, his breathing slow and steady. He brought his hand up to cover hers.

‘Number one, your father’s wrong, you’re definitely not stupid. Number two, I owe you an apology. I had no right to say that.’ He squeezed her fingers, pressing them into his sun-warmed skin. ‘Hell, I’ve got a feeling I’m rushing my fences. I’m not usually like this with women.’

Lauren tried not to smile. She guessed he was usually the one running from commitment not courting it.

‘I’ve got secrets, too, Lauren,’ he continued, curving his arm low around her hips, drawing her closer. ‘I understand there are things you don’t wish to share with me yet, but when I ask for an opinion I want one. I’m not your father.’

Lauren caught a droplet of Grayson’s sweat on her fingertip and followed it down his chest. He inhaled sharply as her nail skimmed the waistband of his jeans.

‘That’s not playing fair,’ Grayson murmured. ‘I’m trying to have a serious conversation here.’

‘So am I.’ Lauren eased her finger past the button of his jeans and headed south making his hard flesh grow harder. He caught her wrist but not before she’d skimmed the slick wetness from the tip of his erection. She brought her fingers to her mouth. His pupils dilated until there was almost no blue left, only a bottomless black.

Before she could react, he swung her up into his arms and marched towards the trees. In one deft motion, he set her down on the soft moss and knelt in front of her.

‘It’s my turn, remember? You’ve had your fun.’

He pulled off her boots and jeans, leaving her panties. Pressing her knees apart he leant closer, the stubble on his cheek grazing her inner thigh. Lauren tensed as he slowly inhaled the scent of her arousal. All he had to do was touch her and her body yielded.

She sighed as he rubbed his finger against the thin wet silk of her panties.

‘You’re soaking.’ Grayson’s soft breath made her soften even more. His finger and thumb sought her clit and moulded it between them. Lauren’s hips moved forwards as he lowered his head and sucked on the swollen tip of flesh.

She brought her hand down to the back of his head and pressed him closer, her whole body turning to gooey toffee as his mouth pleasured her. When his fingers slid beneath the silk and dipped inside her, she couldn’t repress a moan. His muffled chuckle reverberated against her skin making her tremble as he eased off her panties. She dug her heels into the ground, using all her strength to urge him closer, opening herself wider to his delicious torment.

Her climax crashed over her and he held her on the edge until she built again and exploded into another one. Only then did he soften his stroke, bringing her back down with soothing lapping touches. Blindly, she reached forwards, found the gaping fly of his jeans and his thick cock and wrapped her hand around him. He came almost immediately, stifling his yell against her stomach.

Lauren closed her eyes and let the peace of the countryside envelop her. She’d never considered making love outdoors as being particularly stimulating, but for Grayson, she’d have to make an exception.

He lifted his head and used the tails of his shirt to wipe his wet face. When he bent to kiss her, she could still smell herself on him. The sun had started its slow slide down to the horizon and the shadows were lengthening.

‘We’d better get back if we’re to make that meeting,’ Grayson said.

Lauren allowed him to pull her to her feet. She started rearranging her clothing and watched him zip up his jeans. He caught her watching him and winked. ‘Remind me to tell Mrs Maxwell how much I appreciated those jeans you bought.’

Lauren buttoned her borrowed shirt and headed for her horse. ‘You do that. She deserves a fright after charging so much for them.’

His warm appreciative laughter followed her as she checked Foxy’s cinch and found a convenient place to remount. His ability to see a joke was one of the many reasons she liked him. He never tried to exclude her like some of the men she’d worked with. He treated her like a person with a brain, not as the dumb female who only got a job because of her daddy.

Reluctantly, Lauren thought about her return to San Francisco on the following day. She’d only been with Grayson for a matter of hours and yet she felt she knew him better than any man she’d ever met. A small part of her yearned to curl up in his arms and never let go. The rest of her fought against the sensation with every fibre of her feminist being. She didn’t need a man to be happy.

Grayson swept past on Robbie. Heading into the sunset he looked like every woman’s fantasy. Lauren couldn’t help but smile. OK, she didn’t need a man to be happy but it was damned hard to be miserable in Grayson’s delectable company.

Grayson held the door open and Lauren walked past him into the town assembly hall. Tattered papers tacked to cork notice boards fluttered in the draft. The smell of beer and fruit punch mingled with brownies swamped Lauren’s senses. From the look of the empty plates it seemed as if they’d missed the barbecue.

Grayson fitted the palm of his hand into the small of Lauren’s back urging her forwards. She caught sight of Marcie by the refreshment table and risked a smile. Marcie scowled, hiked a shoulder and abruptly turned her back. A petite blonde woman put down a pitcher of lemonade and walked across to Grayson.

The woman looked to be about Lauren’s age and had an assured fragile elegance that reminded Lauren of Vivien Leigh. She wore a crisp white blouse and a khaki skirt which complemented her tanned legs and flawless skin.

‘I’m so glad you could make it, Grayson,’ she cooed as she stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ‘We have a lot to discuss.’ Her gaze flicked over Lauren and instantly dismissed her.

‘Mrs Paulson.’ Grayson tipped his hat, his smile disappearing. ‘Perhaps you’d better thank my friend Lauren. If she’d hadn’t agreed to accompany me, I wouldn’t have made it.’

As Mrs Paulson studied Lauren, her fingers toyed with the strand of pearls at her throat. ‘It’s sweet that you recognise Grayson for the important man he is.’

Lauren resisted an urge to twirl her hair around her finger, stand on one leg and chew gum. She knew she should’ve worn her 1960s shift dress and high heels. In her jeans, she obviously looked about as dynamic and effective as Marcie. Just as she opened her mouth to reply, Grayson curved an arm around her waist and drew her close.