Rope Burn: The Boot Knockers Ranch, Book 5 (12 page)

Damn, I’m in trouble.

Watching her hunky cowboy get ready for the day was like watching porn. Stowe had showered with her, scrubbing his hair and body with precise movements, as he did everything. While she’d lathered more slowly, she’d watched him through lowered lashes.

Then he’d dried off with motions just as quick. When he raked his damp hair back with his fingers and jammed his hat on before even donning a stitch of clothing, she finally understood the man inside the Master.

He was a cowboy first and foremost. Before whips, leather or spankings, he loved the land and the ranch.

She drifted to sit on the edge of the rumpled bed as he pulled clothes from the dresser they were sharing. He tugged slim black jeans over his bare ass.

“You’re not wearing underwear?”

He gave her a melting, crooked smile. “Easy access. For later.”

Her body revved hard and fast. “What comes later?”

“That’s up to you.” The insinuation in his words sent sharp pangs of lust through her body.

When he yanked on socks and simple square-toed leather boots, she asked, “Where are you going?”

“First to the grub house to get my princess some breakfast.” He drifted close and dropped a kiss to her forehead, one hand on her shoulder, warm and rough. “Then I’m going up to the top field to check my cows. The sperm is arriving today and I want to make sure my girls are ready.”

She popped up from the bed. “I’ll come with you.”

He stared at her for a long beat of silence. So long she started to fidget, sure he didn’t want her to join him and didn’t know how to say so.

“I mean…if you want me to,” she said softly.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, trapping her against his chest. As he stared down at her, she saw something darker in his eyes. Something she hadn’t noticed yesterday.

“Tabbart, after last night, you’re sore. I don’t think it’s best for you to sit a horse just now.”

Relief rushed her. So he wasn’t against her going along on his important task—he was worried for her well-being.

“I’m fine. A little sore, but it’s pleasant.”

His eyelid twitched and he issued a rumble in his chest. He reached under her tendrils of damp hair and pulled lightly until her scalp tingled. When he swooped in and kissed her fully on the mouth, she swayed against him. Tangling her tongue with his in a long, slow kiss was better than any breakfast.

Her stomach didn’t think so, though. It growled loudly.

Stowe laughed and withdrew from the kiss.

“I don’t know why I’m so hungry. I really must try to get a run in today.”

“Do you think the things we’ve been doing aren’t working you out? You’re burning a lot of calories and losing electrolytes. I’m going to get your tray. Be right back.”

She watched him leave the bedroom. The bungalow door clicked.

She flopped back on the bed and drew a deep breath of the sheets still scented with their lovemaking.

She started. She considered it lovemaking. Shock slammed her. He didn’t love her and she was unable to love him. In a few days Stowe would be a distant but good memory. She pouted her lips and thought of losing the things she’d recently recovered—happiness and a sense of self she’d lost along her road to fame.

And she’d really miss giving up control under Stowe’s command.

Wrapping her arms around her middle, she watched the ceiling fan make slow revolutions. She took note of the little sore spots all over her. Shoulders slightly stiff but nothing a warm bath wouldn’t ease. Her neck felt beard-burned. And her nipples…

She skimmed her fingers over them, sending them into taut peaks. After the spanking each bud had received last night, they should be sore but they weren’t. Her ass too. She hadn’t been lying when she said the pain was pleasant.

It reminded her of what they’d done. Of the bliss she’d felt as he’d stolen her mind completely.

She’d drifted for a long time after that release. When she opened her eyes to find him lying beside her in as much of a daze as she was, a sweetness had spread through her. She’d rested her head on his chest, listened to his heartbeat and fallen asleep.

Yes, she was enamored with her Boot Knocker. Her cowboy. She was already dreading her return to her life.

Shaking herself, she got up and dressed in jeans and a tank top. When she faced the mirror, she considered her appearance. Would anyone on the ranch glance at her and see Tabbart Tracy the TV food star? Without the skirts, designer heels and makeup, she could be any other woman.

She brushed her hair, still damp from her shower, and braided it, drawing it over one shoulder. Then she moisturized her face and added a touch of lip gloss. With any luck Stowe would remove the stickiness quickly. Or she could run her lips all over his tanned, hard body…

In the front room, she arranged the table and chairs for his arrival. Hopefully he would share breakfast with her. If he went to the field without her, she didn’t know how she’d spend her time.

A glance around showed a small bookshelf of erotic novels. A stack of magazines were on the window seat. She recognized one cover. Her photo was in the corner, along with a headline that stopped her heart.

She opened her mouth, fighting for air, but there was none.

Food Star Spotted on Sex Ranch

Her heart lurched and started again, hammering her ribs. She snatched up the magazine and flipped to the article. The photo of her was outdated. She hadn’t worn sunglasses like that in two years. After skimming the small number of words, she moaned, “Oh God.”

While the article was based on rumor, some details had obviously been leaked. Such as the remote Texas airport where her private jet had landed. And how she’d been driven by private car to the gates.

What was she going to do? Her first reaction was she needed to get out of here. But that meant leaving Stowe, and she wasn’t about to do that. She flipped the magazine over and hid it on the bottom of the pile. She sat. Stood again. Wrung her hands. Should she call her publicist? No, she didn’t want to talk to anyone.

She would need to stay inside the bungalow, out of sight.

The idea pushed her to the limits of her emotional control. Her throat clogged. If she couldn’t go out with Stowe, she’d miss the best moments. No, that wouldn’t do. She’d have to brave it.

That magazine might be in all the bungalows, though. Every woman there might have read the article, and Tabbart’s face was fresh in their minds.

She sank to the window seat and drew a fluffy pillow over her face while she struggled to figure out how to handle this mess. Seeing rumors about herself in tabloids was an everyday occurrence, but this felt shockingly personal. Maybe because for the first time, they were intruding on something extremely private and close to her heart.

She lowered the pillow and let her mind flip through scenarios.

By the time Stowe returned, she felt like a flighty mess.

“Wait till you see what I brought.” He took one look at her and kicked the door shut. In a few steps he reached the table and set the tray down. When he sank to the window seat with her, concern was etched around his eyes. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re upset.”

“It’s…” She searched his dark eyes. He could possibly make this better. He hadn’t failed her yet.

“Tell me.”

“This.” She unearthed the magazine. He stared at it for several heartbeats, his mouth a tight slash in his very calm face. His
too
calm face.

With a sudden jerk, he ripped the magazine in two. The thick volume might as well have been air—it was no match for his muscled forearms and strong hands. He stomped a few steps to the fireplace and tossed the magazine in.

“What am I going to do?” she practically wailed.

His expression changed, and the Stowe she’d come to know flooded in to replace his mask. His gaze softened and he hauled her against his big body. “We’ll only go out at night.”

She was shaking her head before he’d finished the sentence. “I can’t be a prisoner here. I want to be with you while you work.”

“We’ll find other things to fill our time.” His insinuating tone sent a heat through her body, but he wasn’t getting his way.

“I want to go out on the ranch with you. Please, Stowe. I can’t sit here alone.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, quietly. “But it’s a risk. You could be seen. Dammit, whoever put these magazines in the bungalows is going to face me.”

A shiver snaked down her spine. She wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that anger. “Do you think everyone saw the article?”

“It’s unlikely anyone’s gotten out of bed. Magazines aren’t really read here.”

The knot in her chest began to loosen.

He searched her eyes. “I’ll do everything in my power to prevent you from being spotted, Tabbart, though it could happen.”

She lifted her jaw. “I know. I’ll be careful. I just can’t sit here.”

He knuckled her chin, a smile gracing his beautiful lips. “Then you’ll come with me. But I can guarantee it won’t feel good to bump up to that ridge on horseback after having your ass fucked.”

His bold words sent a new hum through her system. “You’ll cushion me against your thighs. I’ll be okay.”

He stared at her, that strange look in place again. “Then you’ll come with me. But first you have to eat all of this good food I’ve brought.”

The next half hour was spent oohing and ahhing over the eggs Benedict and toast triangles. Also he’d brought a fruit compote unlike anything she’d ever tasted.

“You must take me to meet the chef. Today.”

He eyed her over his mug of coffee. “She’s completely discreet, but I can’t say as much for the people working in the kitchen with her. Your appearance is sure to kick up a fuss.”

The way he drawled this made Tabbart totally forget what they were talking about. She blinked at him. Tanned face, sparkling eyes, five o’clock shadow. He hadn’t even put on a shirt, and she was faced with his sculpted chest and that beautiful whip tattoo reminding her of all the pleasure left to receive.

“Tabbart? Love?”

She snapped back to herself at his endearment. “I understand. I’ll give it some more thought, but I really do want to meet the woman who can surprise me with the flavors in this dish.” She pointed her fork at the fruit.

“I am at your service.” He inclined his head, and his dark hair dipped into one blazing eye.

The rest of her breakfast was spent admiring him and listening to him talk about the sperm being shipped from a few towns over. It would arrive special delivery by the bull owner.

“Then what happens? You just…shoot it into the cows?”

“Pretty much.”

She wrinkled her nose and he laughed. “Welcome to ranching, love. Finish all your eggs. You’ll need your energy.”

“I’m full, though. I’m not used to eating whole meals.”

He cocked his head. “Those few bites you take here and there to sample your food for America aren’t meals. I’m serious—eat all of your breakfast because I don’t know when we’ll return for lunch.”

“I’m fine with skipping meals.” She pushed back her plate.

“I promise you a big thick Texas steak tonight. But Tabbart, there’s something I have to do after seven o’clock.”

She sat up straighter and studied his face. She didn’t like his tone. “What is it?”

“The BDSM demonstration I told you about. I need to be in the auditorium.”

Onstage. With other women.

She chewed her lower lip. “Okay.”

He looked at her so closely she felt like an insect under a microscope. “You don’t like the idea.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I…” Why didn’t she? She had no ties to him, but thoughts of him spanking another woman’s nipples made her see red. “I paid for your services all week.”

His mouth tightened. “I see.” Shoving away from the table, he stood. “Let’s be off then so I can give you your money’s worth.”

All the way across the field to the barn, she knew she’d ticked him off. Mentioning money was in bad taste and probably had made him feel like her servant. Her sex slave.

He saddled the horse and put her in front of him. Until they were almost to the ridge, neither spoke.

“I know you’re uncomfortable, Tabbart. Move higher on my thighs.” He locked an arm around her middle and hitched her higher. Her backside landed on his groin, and she didn’t know which was harder—the saddle or him.

She winced. “I’m okay.”

“I know you aren’t. I should have gone with my gut instinct and made you stay at the bungalow.”

“With nothing to do but think about my life and how I’m supposed to go from this…” she swept a hand to indicate field and sky, “…to that. Sets and production crews. People sucking up instead of being genuine. And having my picture taken when I go to the grocery store. Hell, I can’t go to the gynecologist without everyone knowing it.”

He laughed and she twisted to face him in shock.

“You think it’s funny?”

“You’re funny when you’re riled. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard you swear.”

“Well, fuck paparazzi.”

He burst out laughing, shaking behind her. She snorted, then released a long belly laugh of her own.

“I think Texas is good for you, love.”

She covered his hands holding the reins with hers. “Me too.” Then she nestled against his chest and let him take the burden of her weight as they bumped up the crest of the ridge.

The bull semen arrived on time and with a professional to administer it. When the crusty cowboy climbed out of his truck and Stowe saw his bowed legs, he smiled and strode forward to greet him.

They clasped hands and the older man pumped Stowe’s up and down, smiling with his whole face. “Good to see you, Aussie.” His attempt at the Australian accent failed big-time.

Stowe laughed and said, “You too, mate.”

From the corner of his eye, he caught Tabbart drifting forward. He had a burning desire to introduce her, but it wasn’t a good idea, especially since the tabloids were sniffing around here.

They stood talking for a moment about the ranch and herd. Then discussion turned to what Stowe was attempting here today.

“You chose right. My bulls will sire the best. Let’s have a look at your stock.”