Christmas at Blue Moon Ranch (3 page)

Willa decided to
forbear commenting on his naiveté. “I haven’t seen too many famous actors
buying up land in Zapata County. So why did you decide on south Texas? What
made you decide to buy my…this particular piece of land? How many other ranches
did you see?”

Daniel shook his
head. “Not a single one. I read your ad…‘For Sale, 1000 Acres of the beautiful
Wild Horse Desert in the heart of Texas cattle country. House and barn ready
for occupation. Your dream is waiting!’” He pretended to slap himself, first
one cheek and then the other. “That’s all it took.”

Willa gazed at
him in confusion. “When did you come down to visit? Seems like I would have
met…” She stumbled to a stop as he shook his head.

“I didn’t visit.
I liked the sound of the Wild Horse Desert and Texas. There was a house and a
barn and a thousand acres of land. I didn’t need to know anything else. I
called the real estate agent that afternoon and made the offer.”

The idea of such
impetuosity left Willa breathless and uneasy. “That’s…that’s a big risk, don’t
you think? With a lot of money?”

He shrugged one
shoulder. “My parents left me a healthy life insurance policy and some very
smart investments. Sometimes you have to go with your gut instincts. And my
instincts tell me that the New Moon ranch is just what I want.” He leaned
toward her, holding out the pitcher. “More wine?”

“I shouldn’t.”
But she didn’t draw her glass away. Yes, she was a little buzzed, but what was
the harm? The kids were safe at home—she’d called to check on them and the
ranch before she’d come down to dinner. And she wouldn’t be driving tonight,
thanks to the storm. After two years of being in charge, of always staying in
control, couldn’t she have just one carefree evening?

“Such a serious
face,” Daniel said. “What are you thinking about?”

Willa shook her
head, then blew out a deep breath of relief. “Responsibility, and how good it
feels to let go a little.”

Daniel nodded,
and held up his own wineglass in a toast. “To freedom,” he said.

Smiling, Willa
clinked her rim against his. “To freedom.” They drank, holding each other’s
gazes, and she felt a quiver deep inside, where nothing had stirred for a long,
long time.

“Fajitas?” a
distant voice said. “Enchiladas royale?”

“Dinner.” Willa
broke her connection with Daniel and looked at the waiter. “Just in time.
I’m…um…starving.”

“Me, too,” she
heard Daniel murmur. “Me, too.”

S
EVERAL HOURS LATER
, W
ILLA
leaned a shoulder against the wall as she and
Daniel waited for the elevator. “I haven’t had this much to drink in years,”
she confessed. “I’ll be sorry tomorrow morning.”

“Me, too.” He
nodded slowly. “But sometimes you just have to cut loose, you know?”

The door beside
her slid open and Willa tipped herself inside the elevator. “I guess. And you
do tell some outrageously hila…hilarious jokes.”

With a line of
concentration between his eyebrows, Daniel studied the elevator control panel. “What
floor are you on?”

“Three.”

His eyebrows
lifted in surprise. “Me, too.” After a couple of misses, he managed to stab the
button. “Funny we didn’t see each other earlier.”

“Funny.” The car
started with a jerk and the spin in Willa’s head accelerated. She balanced
against the wall behind her and closed her eyes, which did not help, so she
opened them to look straight across at Daniel. He was smiling as he looked back
at her. Through the haze of alcohol surrounding them, she recognized the glint
in his eyes for what it was. Desire, pure and simple. Daniel Trent was thinking
about taking her to bed.

She’d been
thinking the same thing about him for the past hour…or four drinks, whichever
lasted longer.

Fortunately, the
elevator door slid open and saved her from literally jumping his bones. Willa
stepped carefully across the metal threshold and studied the sign on the
opposite wall.

“My room’s this
way.” She swayed to the left. “G’night.”

“Mine is, too.”
Daniel followed her. She could feel him behind her, big and warm and sexy.
Damn
him.

Concentrating
hard, Willa read the room numbers as she walked along. “This is me. 334.” She
slid the key card in, took it out and turned it around so the arrow pointed in
the right direction, then tried again. “’Night.”

“334.” Daniel
nodded. “I’m 343.” As she looked back, he braced a hand on the wall beside her
head and stood for a second just gazing at her. Reading his face, she knew all
she’d have to do was ask him in. He’d take over from there. He wanted her. She
wanted him. Badly.

“Good night,”
Willa said distinctly, emphatically. Then she tripped into the hallway of her
room, turned and shut the door in his handsome face.

“’Night, Willa,”
he said from the other side. With her cheek pressed against the door panel, she
heard him whistling as he moved further down the hall, toward 343. The
whistling stopped, and she could visualize Daniel focusing on getting the key
card into the slot correctly.

“Damn.” He said
the word softly, but with feeling. In another second, he swore again…and again,
with more force.

Willa opened her
door and peered down the hall. Daniel stood at the very end, next to the
emergency exit, jabbing his key card into the lock.

He glanced back
her way. “It won’t open.” Growling low in his throat, he raised a fist to pound
on the door. “Dammit, the damn key won’t work.”

As he drew back
his arm for another round of pounding, the door panel flew open. A short,
round-bellied, gray-haired man stood on the threshold in a T-shirt and red
plaid boxer shorts. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Daniel barely
managed to avoid punching the guy in the face. The effort sent him staggering
backward, up against the opposite wall. “This is my room!”

“This damn sure
isn’t your room. And if you don’t shut up and get out I’m going to call
security and the cops!” The door slammed shut.

Daniel closed
his eyes and dropped his spinning head back against the wall. “Why is he in my
room? Where am I gonna sleep?” He hadn’t been drunk in a long, long time. He
hadn’t been this frustrated in even longer.

Cool fingers closed
around his wrist. “Come on,” Willa said as he opened his eyes. “You can call
the front desk from my room and find out what’s going on.”

Her touch
soothed him like a soft salve on a hot burn. Blowing out a deep breath, Daniel
followed without argument. Inside her dimly lit room, he dropped to sit on one
of the beds and punched O on the phone. “This is Daniel Trent. I’m trying to
get into my room—my key won’t work and there’s a guy already in there. What’s
going on?”

A bored voice
asked, “What room number is that, Mr. Trent?”

“My room. 343.
Why is there someone else in my room?”

After a pause,
the voice said, “Um…that’s not your room, Mr. Trent. You’ve mistaken the
number.”

Daniel swore.
“Well, what’s the right number?”

Another
hesitation. “I can’t tell you that over the phone, Mr. Trent. If you’ll come
down to the front desk and produce some I.D., we’ll be happy to give you the
room number.”

“Oh, for God’s
sake. It’s just a room. Tell me the number and let me go to bed!”

“I can’t do that
without being certain of who you are. Our guests’ security—”

Daniel grunted
and hung up the phone. “Great. I have to go back downstairs and give them some
I.D. before they’ll tell me what room I’m in.”

Willa sat on the
other bed, facing him, frankly laughing. “You’ve forgotten your room number?”

He rolled his
eyes. “I haven’t had that much alcohol in quite a while.” Propping his cane in
front of him, he pulled himself to his feet. “I’ll get out of your—”

The stick
tilted. His head swirled, his balance deserted him and suddenly he was falling
forward. Toward Willa. Daniel managed to twist enough to avoid landing on her,
but his weak leg wouldn’t support his weight. He bounced onto the mattress
beside her.

Laughing hard,
Willa fell back to lie beside him.

“I didn’t do
that on purpose,” Daniel said. “I told you—”

“I know. We’ve
both had too much to drink.” She wiped her eyes, still laughing. “What a
disaster.”

“Yeah.” He
propped himself on an elbow and looked down at her. “You’re beautiful when you
laugh.”

She sniffed and
wiped her eyes again. “That’s quite a line.”

“No line.” He
touched her cheek with his fingertips. “Soft. Smooth.”

“Daniel…”

“You can stop
me,” he told her as he leaned closer. “Just say no.” A slight press of his
fingers turned her face toward his. He brushed his lips across hers. “Just say
no.”

He made another
pass across that wide, generous mouth, but he didn’t hear a word. Her hand came
up and cupped the back of his neck, bringing him even closer. And then he was
kissing Willa Mercado for all he was worth.

Willa couldn’t
believe how good it felt. How good
he
felt. The size and weight of him,
the warmth of him surrounding her, seemed like a miracle. She’d been so cold
for so long.

His mouth
skimmed hers, lingered, plundered. He tasted of tequila and lime, but also
something essentially, basically male. He smelled like soap and clean clothes
and good man. As he kissed his way across her cheek and down her throat, she
buried her face in the bend of his neck and breathed deeply of that wonderful
scent.

Like magic, the
buttons of her blouse came undone. For a second the air chilled her bare skin,
but then Daniel chased the cold away, pressing kisses on her breast bone, the
balls of her shoulders, the hollow between her breasts and everywhere in
between. Willa sighed, and in the next moment her bra disappeared. First his
hand claimed her and then his mouth, and she cried out at the shock of
pleasure.

She went a
little crazy after that, desperate for more of…well, everything. Her fingers
fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and she gave up after the second one to
pull the damn thing over his head. To her surprise, he wore a plain white
T-shirt underneath, yet another barrier. When she reached for the hem, though,
Daniel drew back.

“Don’t,” he said
raggedly, and bent to kiss the inner curve of her elbow. “I’m not nearly as
gorgeous as you are.”

Willa gasped at
the stroke of his tongue against her skin, and forgot to argue with him. A few
minutes later he eased her slacks over her hips. Once he’d dragged his palm along
the length of her legs, she wasn’t sure she remembered her own name.

“Daniel,” she
whispered, arching closer, wrapping a leg around his hips to draw him nearer
still. Hard met soft, and she moaned. “Please. Please, tell me we don’t have to
stop.”

She heard his
low chuckle, saw a flash of that fabulous grin. He backed off enough to
unfasten and strip off his jeans.

“Not a chance. I
was a Boy Scout.” He jerked his wallet out of the discarded pants and pulled
out a duo of condoms. In the second he used to break open one package, Willa
stroked her hand up his thigh, underneath the hem of his pale blue boxers.

Instead of the
smooth skin and firm muscle she expected, the flesh she touched was a landscape
of ridges and valleys, hard and harsh.

Daniel froze,
and she looked at him in horror. “My God,” Willa said. “Those are…scars?”

He nodded, then
took a deep breath. “Sorry.” With an awkward shift of his hips, he started to
move away.

But Willa came
with him. “No. Daniel, don’t.” On her knees behind him, she put her arms around
his shoulders and her head on his shoulder. “Don’t.”

His shoulders
lifted on a deep breath. “I wasn’t thinking. I know what I look like. I
shouldn’t have subjected—”

“Hush.” She sat
back on her heels and grasped the hem of the T-shirt. He jerked, clearly
wanting to escape, but she put a hand on his shoulder. “Stay.” Biting her lower
lip, she deliberately peeled up the white T-shirt, uncovering the mutilated
skin of his back. Tears rolled down her face as Willa studied the map of purple
grooves and red hills she’d revealed.

“I’m so sorry.”
She put a finger gently on one of the scars. “So sorry.” The pain he’d endured
was unimaginable. How had he even survived? If Jamie had come back to her like
this…how would he have felt? What would she have done?

“It’s okay.”
Daniel pulled down the T-shirt again and shifted to face her. “I’m okay.
Really. Don’t cry, Willa.” He wiped her cheeks with his thumbs, then bent to
give her a quick kiss.

She understood
he meant to leave without finishing what they’d started. But despite seeing the
horrors he’d suffered, Willa didn’t want to let him go. Even as he drew back,
she circled her arms around his neck.

“Stay.”