The Cowboy and the Angel (26 page)

Angela bit her lip, wondering how to break it to Joe that she was taking her dad back to the ranch. Mike had already insisted they both come, and she wondered if he understood her predicament. Having her dad close would help her keep him safe, and it would be much easier to keep an eye on him if he was secluded from nearby bars. Mike was giving her an opportunity to do her job and keep her father safe—something Joe hadn’t been able to do while she was away. But Joe wouldn’t see it that way. He’d take it as a personal affront and a lack of confidence in him.

“Dad’s going to come to the ranch with me. He’ll be away from all the pressure at home.”

Joe cocked his head and rolled his eyes. “What pressure? Watching you go to work every day?”

Angela arched a brow at his sarcasm. “He’s coming with me to the ranch, Joe. I’ll be there until after the next rodeo. Then Skip and I will come back to the station and edit the footage.” He opened his mouth to argue. “You agreed to two weeks if I had a story, remember?”

Joe closed his mouth, his lips pinching into a thin line. She knew he was angry, but she wasn’t backing down this time. Now that she’d taken a bite of this story, she knew she was on the right track. It had every component to make it a feature story—good-looking cowboys, Western culture, danger, drama—it was sure to be a hit. Skip was convinced they would turn it into a series.

“Fine,” he snapped, pushing himself off of the panels, causing them to rattle loudly, ruining her shot. “Since you seem to have everything in order and don’t need me, I’ll just head up to the announcer’s booth and see what I can get up there.”

“Joe,” she called after him. She hated when he was angry at her, but he was being so difficult. It was just easier to let him go cool off. She sighed as he hurried away.

“He’ll cool off, Angela. I’ll get a better shot from the chutes.” Skip glanced over his shoulder and leaned back, trying to get a good look at the rough stock chutes. “I think if I can get behind the chute crew, it will give me a clear shot, and I’ll still get all the commotion down there. You’re gonna want that on camera.”

“Thanks, Skip. You really are the best cameraman around.” Skip frowned at her, looking at her as if she’d grown a third head. “What’s wrong?”

Skip shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong. You know, that’s the first time you’ve ever given me a compliment.”

“No, it’s not.” She waved him off with the back of her hand. “You know I always request you for my location shoots.”

“Yeah, I know you do,” he agreed, “but you’ve never been this excited about a story. And you’ve never told me I do a great job.” He shrugged and lifted the camera to his shoulder. “It’s just nice to hear every once in a while. And it’s really nice to see you enjoying yourself for a change.”

Angela realized he was right. She wasn’t rude to her crew, but she’d never thought of them as people with feelings and needs. She’d seen them as pawns in her daily grind, to be ordered around, never giving any thought to the work they put in or how good they made her look. Her selfishness hit her square in the chest. While none of them ever complained, at least not when she was around, they certainly hadn’t been lining up to work with her. She’d been demanding and difficult and cold as ice. While it might have made her a good reporter, it made her a terrible person.

She reached for Skip’s elbow. “I’m sorry, Skip. You’ve done so much for me and I should have never treated you the way I have. I . . .” She wasn’t sure what else she could say to make up for her pretentious attitude. There was no excuse for her actions. She shook her head and couldn’t look at him. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed, nervously. “I’m not sure what’s come over you with this story, but I kinda like this Angela. She’s a lot more relaxed.” Skip hurried up the stairs toward the chutes, immediately finding a spot to stand behind the cowboys where he could get video he wanted without being in their way.

She looked at the broad-shouldered cowboy guiding a bucking horse out of the arena. Derek was a big reason for the change in her. He was forcing her to release her need to be in charge, her desire to control every circumstance, and her tendency to squeeze every ounce of self-preservation out of situations. He was teaching her that vulnerability wasn’t a weakness, and others were noticing the gentleness he was drawing out of her. She liked the person she was becoming under his affection, even if she was afraid of her. She was letting go of the pain and bitterness that colored her every decision and relying on a newfound faith in the future.

Angela admired Derek from a distance as he focused on helping a rider onto the back of his mount, away from danger, and then setting him safely on his feet again. He didn’t realize it, but he was doing the same for her.

J
OE FOUND
R
OBERT
in the announcer’s booth and glared at him. “What the hell? You were supposed to tell her you wanted to go home, now you’re going back with her?”

“What difference does it make where I go?” He flipped his hand at the younger man irritably.

Mike had offered him this opportunity to help out by keeping track of the scores, and, while he hadn’t held a steady job since Angela was a little girl, he was surprised at the odd sense of renewal he felt. It made him feel like he had a purpose, at least for today. It had been a long time since he’d felt any desire to impress someone else, and he was grateful for the reminder of how it felt to be a provider instead of a burden.

“If she stays here, we both know she’s going to hook up with him and get her heart broken.”

“It’s about time she falls for someone.” Joe’s outrage almost made him laugh. “Relax, nothing is going to happen. You know better than anyone that Angie won’t get close enough to fall for anyone,” he reminded him. “Let her live a little. Besides, if he breaks her heart, you can be there to pick up the pieces.” It didn’t take a genius to see that Derek had fallen hard for Angie, and he doubted the cowboy would hurt her, but Robert would say anything right now if it would get Joe to shut up.

“You realize if this story does as well as she thinks it will, she’ll be moving to one of the bigger stations in Sacramento or San Francisco. Maybe even L.A. And where would that leave you?” He jerked the pen out of Robert’s hand, forcing him to look at him. “If you think she’s planning on taking you, you’re wrong. She can’t wait to get away.”

The announcer turned off his microphone. “Do you two mind? I’m trying to work here. If you want to talk, get out,” he ordered, turning his mic back on and adding some commentary to the ride happening in the arena.

Robert wasn’t sure if Joe was repeating something Angie had said or just trying to get a reaction from him. “We’ll talk about this later,” he whispered.

“I have a job for you while you’re there, Robert. Just be sure to find me before I leave. And, just so you know, if you don’t do this, I’ll make sure you’re sorry. You’ll wish you were in jail again when I get through with you.”

D
EREK WAS KICKING
himself. He’d tried to work out at least one hundred different scenarios to get Angela alone, and nothing seemed feasible. He watched her from the end of the arena while the specialty act performed for the crowd. The bull riding was next, their last event before they ran the evening slack, and he wondered if she was getting the footage she needed. He’d seen her talking with several of the competitors before and after their events, hovering in the medical tent while several minor injuries were treated.

She was a vision and he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from her. Even seated beside her father and Joe in the announcer’s booth, her hair gleamed like it was lit from a fire within. She’d borrowed another Western shirt from Sydney, and she looked good enough to eat in her dark green shirt and jeans, with rhinestones on her perfectly round rear. He’d heard more than one of the contestants talking about her behind the chutes, and had he not been a professional he might have put a few of them in the medical tent himself. She was a woman who demanded a man’s attention without even trying.

“Hey, you gonna stare at her all day or get ready?” Scott sidled his paint gelding beside Derek’s horse.

“I’m ready.” He crossed his forearms and leaned them on the saddle horn.

“Maybe I should finagle a way to get Sydney and Kassie to a hotel tonight, huh?”

Derek glared at his brother. “It’s not like that.”

“The hell it’s not.” Scott rolled his eyes and looked back at the animal act in the arena. “Why don’t you take her out tonight? Find someplace in town for dinner. I’m sure I can convince one of the other guys to run the slack with me. It’s just timed events.”

“And if one of these guys gets hurt and she’s not here to get it on film?” He shook his head. “She’d never forgive me.” His eyes found her again and he clenched his jaw when he saw her lean close to Joe.

“I don’t trust him,” Scott said, his eyes following Derek’s.

“What am I supposed to do? He’s her boss.”

“He’s also up to something. You need to keep an eye on him,” Scott warned.

“I know, but I’m not sure what I can do right now. Unless he threatens the company, he’s just like any other reporter with a press pass.” Derek sighed and winked at Angela as she met his gaze across the arena and smiled. He felt his body immediately respond and shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. Damn, that woman could play him like a fiddle if she wanted to. He didn’t miss the glare Joe shot him. “But I don’t think it’s us he wants to threaten.”

D
EREK FOUND
A
NGELA
after the end of the bull riding in the medical booth, interviewing a cowboy who lay on a gurney while the doctor checked out his ribs. “How many times have you broken your ribs?”

“Who knows?” The cowboy winced as the doctor pressed against the bruised flesh. “I crack them at least once a year, sometimes more.”

“Yet, you continue to ride?” Derek caught the cowboy’s nod in greeting. Angela followed his gaze over her shoulder. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” he laughed. “Even on a bad day, this beats any eight-to-five job I could get working construction or behind a desk. I get to do what I love.”

“You love being injured?” Derek laid a hand on her shoulder, unsure if he was doing it because of the aching need to touch her or because he wanted to make sure everyone realized she was his.

“I love this sport. We’re just like any other athlete. Football players, baseball players, skiers, mountain climbers . . . they can all get hurt. We’re no different.”

“Except you’re riding a two-thousand-pound animal determined to get you off its back by any means necessary.”

He gave her a lop-sided grin. “Yeah, well, there is that.”

Angela smiled back at him and Derek felt the urge to drag her away from any other men nearby. She laid her hand on the cowboy’s forearm. “I think we have enough for now. Are you really going to try and ride next weekend?”

The cowboy glanced at the doctor, who frowned down at him. “I’m about ninety percent sure you have at least two cracked ribs.”

“Yeah, I’ll be riding next weekend.”

She laughed with him, even as he grimaced in pain, and the medic shook his head. Angela turned to Derek. “Are you finished?”

“No.” He frowned when he saw Joe and Skip waiting for her at the trailer. “We still have to finish the timed events.”

“I thought those were finished a long time ago.” She twisted her lips in an expression he wanted to believe was disappointment.

“The slack is the overflow of competitors who weren’t able to compete in the time allowed during the performances,” he explained. “We had a lot of calf and team ropers this weekend so we’ll take a short break and then get them started. Hopefully, it won’t last too long tonight.”

“Need my help with anything?”

Derek snuck one arm around her waist and pulled her close, spinning her so that he leaned back against one of the trailers and she stood between his thighs, away from the view of prying eyes. “You have no idea,” he murmured, dipping his head toward hers. His voice was low and hoarse with desire.

He had to spend some time with her alone tonight. He gently touched his lips against hers, trying to keep his kiss light against her lips until her fingers clenched against his chest. He deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past her lips to taste the sweet nectar of her mouth. He felt himself grow hard as her hands snuck over his shoulders and around his neck and she pressed herself against him with abandon. Her mouth stoked the fire in him until it was threatening to consume every shred of self-control he retained. He growled low in his throat and spanned her waist with his hands, moving her backward until she was arm’s distance away.

“Good God, Angel. I have never wanted a woman the way I want you.” He saw her eyes glimmer and dismissed the notion that it might be tears. She wound her fingers around his wrists, moving his hands to circle around her.

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Mr. Chandler, the feeling is mutual,” she whispered.

She leaned backward to get a better look at a commotion near the arena and, heaven help him, the movement pressed her breasts closer to his chin. He took a ragged breath, his hands sliding up her back and pulling her upright.

“If you do that again, I’m going to drag you inside and take you here and now and forget everything I know about being a gentleman,” he warned, every nerve ending in his body vibrating with desire.

“And I just might . . .” He saw her face pale. “Derek, they need you.” Her voice held a note of panic.

Derek moved her aside and ran to the arena with Angela right behind him. He saw the cowboy riding out of the arena, his arm clutched to his stomach, blood pouring from a fresh wound.

“Skip,” Angela called. Derek barely glanced at the man as he ran toward them, the camera immediately on his shoulder.

As the cowboy dismounted and was settled on the gurney, the doctor began to inspect his bleeding hand. Blood dripped down his palm, splattering in the soft earth and forming droplets at their feet.

“Found it!” someone called from the arena and Derek saw another cowboy run toward the table. “Here ya go, doc.”