A Cowboy Under the Mistletoe (7 page)

Hank stepped closer. He grabbed a piece of dampened paper and pulled it off the wall. “Because that jerk was giving you a hard time.”

Ally came back down the ladder, picked it up and moved it another two feet to the left. Resentment glimmered in her green eyes. “I was handling him.”

Hank stood with legs braced, as if for battle. “You may
think
you were.”

She stiffened. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Here was his chance to bring up what he'd been reluctant to discuss before. “Corporate Farms is more than just an outfit that buys ranches and farms nationwide, or a firm that is angling to create the largest single ranch in the nation. It has a reputation for ruining communities faster than you can imagine.”

Ally sobered. “How?”

“Well, first they come in with a lowball offer. Like what just happened. If they fail on the first try—and often they don't—they up the ante. And they
keep
upping it until they get what they want. In fact, they're happiest when they do have to pay more than the assessed value of a property, because that drives up the prices of all the neighboring ranches and farms, and with that, the tax values. A few acquisitions by CF coupled with a bad year agriculturally, and before you know it the neighbors can't pay their taxes.”

“Go on,” Ally said quietly, suddenly a captive audience.

Hank sighed heavily. “So then Corporate Farms comes in again, and buys the properties in distress, this time for much
less
than what they're worth. The point is, an outfit like CF has vast resources and can move awfully fast. You may not be prepared for how fast. Or the kind of temptation they can exert.” His eyes hardened. “Especially since word on the street is they want to eventually buy up every single ranch property in Laramie County and turn it into one big entity.”

Ally regarded him calmly. “So in other words, I shouldn't sell to them because they're bad guys. And they're likely to put everyone else around here out of business if I do.”

“Exactly,” he muttered.

“Which is why your dad was here this morning.”

Her insight caught Hank off guard. “That was part of it,” he allowed cautiously.

She stepped closer. “And the rest?”

Hank's jaw set. “It's not relevant to this.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Why don't you let me decide that? Seriously. You want me to trust you? Then you need to reveal more about what's going on with your situation, too!”

Fair enough. “My parents think I need their help to succeed.”

Ally let out a disbelieving laugh. “You? The guy who was Mr. Everything in high school? Student body president, star athelete, class heartthrob—”

Hank focused on the most important of the litany. “Class heartthrob?” he repeated. Was that how she'd seen him back then?

Ally flushed. “Never mind. Forget I said that.” She drew a breath and settled on a step of the ladder, turning businesslike once again. “Back to your very implausible story.”

Hank's gut twisted with the irony. “It's true,” he said, just as quietly. He edged close enough to rest an elbow on the top rung of the ladder. “My parents think I flipped out after Jo-anne's death. That was why I joined the marines and stayed in for ten years.”

Ally tilted her head to look up into his face. “Was it the reason?”

His voice was edgy with tension as he answered, “I admit I was depressed and angry after she died. You can't not be if one of your loved ones dies in something as senseless and unexpected as a terrorist attack. But…” He paused reflectively, then shrugged. “I got over it.”

The tenderness in Ally's eyes encouraged him to dig a little deeper into his feelings. “I grew up, I guess, came to accept that bad things happen in life to everyone. And what counts is your ability to pick yourself up and make something good happen—even in the worst circumstances—and move on. And that's what my career in the marines was all about. I helped save a lot of lives. Now I'm out…and ready to move on with the next chapter of my life.”

Ally stood and moved away from the ladder once again. “But your mom and dad can't accept that.”

He watched her amble back to the wall where she had been working, and spritz an area within reach.

Hank picked up a scraper and walked over to help. “My parents blame themselves for my taking off in the first place. They think they failed me somehow, after Jo-anne died. They don't want to be caught short again. And they're afraid if this ranching thing doesn't work out, I'm going to leave again.”

For a second, a flash of alarm appeared in her eyes. “Will you?”

Was it possible, Hank wondered, she wanted him to stay around, as much as he was beginning to want her to do the same? “No. Texas is my home and always will be. That's one thing I figured out while I was overseas.”

She scowled at the piece of wall covering she was working on, then tilted her head up to his. “When you say Texas,” she murmured, looking at him from beneath her fringe of thick lashes, “do you mean Laramie, or anywhere in the state?”

“I got a hundred head of cattle, and I have to find somewhere of my own to graze them.” At the moment, Mesquite Ridge was the only ranch available for lease or sale in Laramie County.

“So if it's not here…?”

Hank studied the way she was biting into her lower lip. “It'll be somewhere.”

“That's all very interesting.” She ripped off the stubborn piece of wallpaper with more force than necessary and dropped it into the trash can. Then she whirled around and chided, “But it doesn't explain why you just acted so protectively toward me.”

He'd been wondering when she would bring that up.

Hank refused to apologize for giving Graham Penderson the old heave-ho. “I wouldn't think I'd have to explain that,” he answered drily.

She lifted a blond brow. “Apparently,” she said, perfectly mimicking his deadpan tone, “you do.”

Was it possible? Was he really that hard to read that Ally had no clue how he was beginning to feel about her?

“Then how about this for an explanation?” Hank said, leaning in for a kiss.

His move wasn't all that unexpected. The woman in Ally had known Hank was going to kiss her again. She just hadn't known when—or where.

The question was, Ally mused, as his arms wrapped around her and drew her close, what was
she
going to do? Was she going to acknowledge the rapid thudding of her heart and the weakening of her knees, and give in to the ever so slow and deliberate descent of his lips to hers? When the professional businesswoman in her knew she should not—at least until the matter of the sale of Mesquite Ridge was settled? Or would she go with her feminine side, and the instinct that told her to grab this opportunity to see if their chemistry was as good as she'd suspected?

Unable to keep herself from slowing things down a little and speaking her piece, Ally planted a palm in the center of Hank's chest. She drew in a quick, bolstering breath and looked him square in the eye. “This won't change anything, you know.”

Grinning, Hank threaded a hand through the hair at her nape. “I know
you
think so,” he murmured, just as confidently.

And then all heaven broke loose as his lips finally took command of hers….

My goodness, did this man ever know how to kiss! With
finesse and depth and stark male assurance. He kissed her as if kissing was an end in itself, and there was no one but the two of them in the entire universe. He kissed her as if he meant it—and always would. He kissed her as if she was the most incredible woman he'd ever been privileged to know.

And darn it all, Ally thought, as she threw caution to the wind and rose up on tiptoe to meet him with every ounce of womanly passion she had. She felt the same!

She never wanted this moment to end.

She wanted to stay just like this, with his arms wrapped around her, his strong body pressed ardently against hers.

She wanted to savor the peppermint taste of his mouth, and the incredible heat that exuded from every sexy inch of him.

And she wanted more. Much more than she had ever wanted in her life…

Right now. Right here.

And since it was Christmastime, and she had no other gifts headed her way, why not present herself with the most thrilling experience of all?

Ally broke off the caress to murmur, “I want you.”

Hank looked down at her with a mixture of affection and longing. He threaded both his hands through her hair and tenderly cupped her face between his palms. “I want you, too, but only,” he said soberly, “if you're sure.”

Ally had never been impulsive. Until now. And darned if she wasn't enjoying the experience. “I'm sure,” she said, just as earnestly.

He nodded and swung her up in his arms. “Then we're going up to my bedroom and doing this the way it should be done.”

“And how is that?” Ally asked, her recklessness soaring
with every step he took, until at last Hank set her down next to his neatly made bed.

“Slowly.” He paused to kiss her again, even more deeply this time again. “And with great attention to detail.”

She liked his approach. It kept her from thinking too much about her feelings. Emotions could be her undoing. Better to think about the task at hand….

“Detail's good.” Ally let her head fall back as he nibbled his way down her neck, lingering over her collarbone. She shivered when he eased her old college T-shirt over her head, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes darkened as he took in the curves of her breasts, spilling out of the lace of her bra.

“Very good,” Hank murmured thickly, as he eased the fabric from her arms and reached behind her to undo the clasp.

The lace slid away. He bent her backward over his arm. Cool air assaulted her nipples and her breasts tingled in anticipation. Unable to bear the excitement, Ally let her eyes flutter shut. She felt the warmth of his mouth, the caress of his tongue, the nip of his teeth, while his hands conducted a very thorough exploration of their own. Despite her efforts to keep this a purely physical experience, feelings welled up inside her, mixing with the sensations. The combination of the two was overwhelming and incredibly enticing….

Ally's heart slammed against her ribs and her breathing grew short. It was suddenly imperative, she decided, that they both get out of their clothes.

Hank seemed to have the same thought, because he was guiding her upright again so he could use both hands to unbutton and unzip, and help ease off her boots and jeans.

“You, too,” she said, jerking the shirt hem free of his jeans, working at the fastenings, spreading the fabric wide.
His chest was every bit as sleek and hard and masculine as she had imagined it would be. Swirls of dark hair covered his flat male nipples and arrowed down past his navel.

Anxious to discover more, she let her hands move to his belt buckle.

Hank kissed his way from the shell of her ear down her neck. “I thought we were taking this slow.”

Ally eased both her hands inside the waistband of his jeans. He was throbbing, ready, full. Heat poured through her, curling her toes and she rose up to meet him. With her heart slamming against her ribs, she kissed him full and hard on the mouth. Given the way she felt… “We are.”

He grabbed her close and kissed her back, just as ardently. The hot skin of his muscular chest pressed against her bare breasts. She felt his urgency. And still he kissed her thoroughly. As if she was the most beautiful, wonderful woman on earth, and he was the only man for her. It felt as if they were meant to be together, meant to celebrate the upcoming holiday in just this way. And though Ally had never liked Christmas, never let herself want presents, she did want this.

What did it matter if it wasn't destined to be anything but a fling? she told herself practically. Something that felt so good had to be right.

Hank must have felt so, too. Otherwise he wouldn't be letting go of her long enough to step out of his boots, jeans and briefs, wouldn't be ripping back the covers on his bed and lowering her to the warm flannel sheets.

Slipping both hands beneath her, he urged her knees apart and eased his weight between her thighs. More kisses came, slower and more sultry than before, and only when she was trembling and arching and gasping for breath did he release her lips and kiss his way down her body. Lin
gering over her breasts, moving past her ribs, to patiently explore her navel…

Seeming more content than she had ever imagined he could be, he explored the hottest, wettest part of her, through the lace of her panties. Holding her hips, he made her wiggle and moan. And then his hands were inside the elastic, steadily easing that last bit of cloth from her. The intensity of his exploration left them both shaking.

At some point the tables were turned and her hands were on him, causing him to inhale sharply and bury his head against her throat.

“Enough playing,” Hank murmured. Turning her onto her back, he stretched out overtop, his hot breath scorching her neck.

“Agreed.” She put her palms on his hips and wantonly pulled him toward her.

A second later they were one, fitting together as if they had been destined to join forces just like this, his fullness generating another roller coaster of want and need. Forcing her to open herself up and wrap her arms and legs around him and be closer yet. And still they kissed, the two of them moving together, burning hotter, until they were soaring out of control. The force of the pleasure consumed her, prompting her to arch and shudder and cry out. And Hank, sweet unbelievable gift that he was, found his pleasure, too, surging into her just as rapaciously, taking her along for the ride.

 

A
LLY LAY ON HER SIDE,
her eyes closed. She wasn't sure when she had ever felt so completely, utterly fulfilled…or so drained. Physically, she was exhausted. Emotionally was another matter. Her heart was in as much of an uproar as her senses. Every inch of her felt alive, appreciated and more vulnerable than she knew what to do with.

With a long, luxurious sigh that sounded like pure contentment, Hank rolled so his body was cuddled up next to hers.

Spooning was something Ally had never done, either. Yet with Hank's arm clamped snugly around her, his strong body pressed against hers, she didn't have the will to move away.

So she lay there, eyes shut, trying not to think about what had just happened or what it might mean. Now or in the future.

And she was still “not thinking” about it some time later when she awakened and found herself naked and alone in Hank McCabe's bed. Ally sat up with a start, clutching the sheet to her breasts. Her naked state, and the just-loved tingling of her body, made it official. She hadn't dreamed this tryst with Hank. Or her newfound, never to be repeated, recklessness. Fortunately for both of them,
he
had apparently come to his senses, too, and left the room before she roused. Which meant she could get dressed in solitude.

With shaking hands, Ally pulled on her clothes and went into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face.

The woman staring back at her in the mirror, with the bright eyes, flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips, looked different.

One roll in the hay with Hank and she felt different, too.

But Ally wasn't going to think about that, either.

She was going to go down and see to Duchess and the puppies, because she should have done that a good half an hour ago. Ally ran a brush through her tousled hair, twisted it up into a clip and hurried down the stairs to the kitchen.

Only to find the puppies already curled up to Duchess's side, suckling sweetly. All except Gracie, who was
cuddled on Hank's lap, taking her formula from a bottle in his hand.

His dark hair was mussed, his jaw lined with lateafternoon shadow, and he, too, had the glow of someone who had just been well and thoroughly loved.

Ally pushed aside the notion of what it might be like to have him home with her like this every evening. No matter how much she might fantasize that, or wish for it in her dreams, it wasn't going to happen, she told herself firmly.

She didn't care how sexy he was.

She was not going to return to the place that had held so much loneliness and uncertainty in her youth.

To a place that held nothing but bad memories for her now.

“Why didn't you wake me?” Ally asked.

Hank looked at Ally tenderly. “I know how hard you've been working. I wanted you to get some sleep.”

She had to admit she did feel better for the rest. “You didn't have to do that.”

Something shifted in his expression, though the affection in his eyes remained. Appearing as if he had half expected just this kind of reaction from her, he favored her with a reassuring smile.

“I know that,” Hank returned, just as quietly. “But I wanted to.”

Just as, Ally thought wistfully, he clearly wanted to make love to her again. She swallowed, her fear of being hurt stronger than ever. “The thing is,” she reminded them both, “I'm only here temporarily.”

The look in Hank's eyes said he clearly felt otherwise. “So you're telling me I'm nothing more than a fling to you?”

Ally wished it were that uncomplicated. She could
already feel herself being drawn to him again, heart and soul. The problem was, they were all wrong for each other. “We want different things from life,” she told him in a low, measured tone.

His gaze narrowed. “Ranchers marry city girls all the time,” he returned casually.

Marry!
Telling herself they were speaking hypothetically, Ally concurred. “But in those cases, the city girls move to the ranch.” Which was clearly not going to happen here. She edged closer to make her point as gently and kindly as possible. She put up a staying hand. “I'm not saying it wasn't great…”

“That's good to hear,” Hank interrupted, looking her straight in the eye. “Because it was—” he paused, letting the words sink in “—great.”

Ally flushed at the new heat in his midnight-blue eyes. “But it's not going to happen again,” she continued, standing her ground determinedly.

He lifted a skeptical brow. “Sure about that?” he teased.

Ally nodded. She did not want to be hurt and instinct told her that, whether he wanted to admit it or not, Hank McCabe had the potential to break her heart. She gulped, moved closer still and inclined her head toward the adorable puppy he held in his arms. “So what's going on here?”

To her relief, Hank let the discussion about their lovemaking end.

“Well,” he drawled, his attention returning to Duchess and the puppies, too. “You're not going to believe what just happened,” he said. He finished giving Gracie the bottle, then held her up tenderly, to look into her cute little face and still-closed eyes. “Is she, Gracie?”

Ally could have swore the pup gave a tiny squeak in response.
But maybe that was wishful thinking, too.

“What happened?” she asked in concern.

Hank smiled and gently set the littlest puppy down in front of Duchess, who promptly began nuzzling the runt of the litter affectionately and cleaning her, with her tongue. That much attention from her mother was new, Ally noted with a start.

Hank beamed like a proud papa, and languidly rolled to his feet. “Gracie nursed at her mama's side for a good three minutes at the start of the feeding before she got too tired and fell off.”

Nursing from the mother was much harder, physically, than taking formula from a bottle. Which meant that Gracie was not failing, after all, but getting stronger. “That's nearly three times as long as she did this morning!” Ally noted, impressed.

“Not only did she get much needed colostrum and immunity from her mama,” Hank reported happily, “but she drank most of this bottle, too.”

Finished, Duchess nosed Gracie away from her and turned to the next puppy who needed her attention.

Hank reached over and picked up Gracie, handing her to Ally to cuddle. As she held her, Gracie made the same sounds the other puppies were making—like the quiet purr of a well-tuned motor. The males were a little larger than the females. All the puppies, including Gracie, seemed a bit more adept at wiggling and scooting around today. Duchess seemed attached to every one of them, even the littlest one.