Her Midnight Cowboy

Lauri Robinson

Eastern Wyoming, 1884

In Angel Clayton’s opinion, men don’t get any finer than hired hand Rowdy McGuire. The very thought of him makes her ache with need—and the sight of his golden, glistening skin only makes it worse. She knows he feels their bodies’ magical, intense pull towards one another, even if the honorable cowboy refuses to admit that a drifter and a ranch owner’s daughter could ever be together.

But Angel is determined to get what she wants—and she wants Rowdy!

Dear Reader,

You have my sincere gratitude for purchasing this story. Historical romance novels have always been my favorite reads, and Harlequin, Mills and Boon’s UNDONE Line are the epitome of quick, satisfying, ‘once upon a time’ reads. Writing these stories, and sharing them with you, is such a dream come true that I have to pinch myself regularly.

I hope you enjoy Rowdy and Angel, and their journey to happily ever after.

Best wishes,

Lauri

To Catherine,

Thanks for pinch hitting when I needed it!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Epilogue

Chapter One

Eastern Wyoming, 1884

Angel Clayton nibbled on her thumbnail. A quick surveillance proved no one else was in the barn. Anticipation tickled her spine, and golden, glistening skin beckoned her forward. The appealing, eye-catching image of broad shoulders tapering into lean hips had her heart pounding in her ears.

The sight of a shirtless man wasn’t unusual at the ranch, but this particular one was flawless. Men didn’t get any finer than Rowdy McGuire.

On tiptoes, she sneaked forward, barely able to contain herself. When he turned, she stood before him, less than a foot away. His bare chest made her breath catch, and when their gazes locked, excitement bubbled in her stomach.

Rowdy cocked a grin and eased back against the haystack, never taking his eyes off hers. It was there again, a silent, magical communication between them that sent her insides dancing.

“Angel girl,” he said in the teasing tone that always took her breath away. “What are you doing?”

Half-mindless as she was, it took her a moment to remember the neatly folded note in her hand. She held it up. “I need a few things from town.”

He arched a brow, still grinning. “Oh? And what’s that got to do with me?”

“You—” she waved the note below his nose “—are going to pick them up and bring them home for me.”

“I am?”

She nodded, nibbling at her bottom lip this time. The desire to kiss him was stronger than ever. He reached out and twirled a golden curl around one finger. The touch, even though she couldn’t feel it, made her insides swirl. “Yes, you are,” she insisted.

“What if I’m not going to town?”

Leaning closer, she whispered, “Its Saturday. You always go to town on Saturday.” Thoughts were two-stepping around in her head, trying to come up with something she could ask him to do if he wasn’t going to town. It was hard. None of her ideas included respectable behavior. Notions of the two of them doing things that only married couples were supposed to do lived in her head day and night.

His silver-toned eyes went to the paper floating beneath their noses. “And what will you give me if I do go fill that list for you?”

Excitement shot through her veins. Now was her chance. “This.” She stretched up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. The brief, short merger was like touching a flame—and set off a sizzling heat that caused them to jerk apart.

His quick intake of air echoed in her ears, and she leaned close again, wanting the connection back and growing more light-headed as the heat of his body mingled with hers.

He kept his distance, but his breath bounced off the tender skin of her chin. “You’re mighty tempting, Angel girl. Mighty tempting.”

Practically screaming with want, she tilted her chin upward, arching toward him.

Featherlight, his lips brushed over hers. Cherishing the touch, Angel closed her eyes. She’d waited so long for this.

The next instant, Rowdy and his lips were gone. Catching her balance by planting a hand against the hay, she twisted around.

He was at the door, shrugging into his shirt. “We can’t do this, Angel girl. No good can come of it.” As he walked out the barn door, he glanced over one shoulder and winked.

Angel slumped against the stack of hay bundles, trembling from head to toe and gulping for air. It was a moment or two before her breath and senses returned, along with determination.

Her steps grew steadier as she moved toward the door, leaving the crumpled note on the barn floor. By the time she found the coordination to run across the ranch yard, the tail of Rowdy’s coal-black mustang waved like a flag at high noon as he and his horse galloped down the dusty road.

“Rowdy McGuire, get back here!” Angel balled both hands into fists. Her nails dug into her palms, and she squeezed her eyes shut, relishing the pain. Would he go to the Whistle Stop? To Liza Spencer and her brass bed, complete with red silk bedcoverings and gold fringed pillows?

Disgust filled Angel’s chest. She let the air out of her lungs and silently apologized. There was no call to dislike Liza. None of this was her fault. Liza’s bedcoverings kept the woman warm during the cold Wyoming nights the same as Angel’s patchwork quilt did. Rowdy was to blame. The man filled her with frustration, and left her in a cold sweat, aching and twitching with want.

“Why are you yelling at Rowdy now?”

Angel jolted, startled by the deep voice next to her shoulder. Folding her arms across her chest, she kept her gaze on the road. “I—I have a list of things I need from town.”

“So? You’re nineteen, plenty old enough. Hitch up a buggy and go get them,” her father stated flatly.

“There’s no need for me to go to Cottonwood when he’s already going.”

“You made that man carry home enough…” her father paused as if searching for the right words “…doodads last Saturday to fill the barn.” Ellis Clayton graced her with one of his stern stares. “You have to stop treating Rowdy like a slave.”

“I—” Her jaw clenched so hard she had to practically pry it open. “Well,” she said in justification, “he does work for us.”

“Me,” her father corrected. “Rowdy McGuire works for me. He’s one of the best wranglers I’ve ever had.” His gaze went to the road, where the dust from Rowdy’s horse still floated in the air. “I’ve got plans for that young man,” he said wistfully.

What? By now, Angel was mad enough to tangle with a polecat. She whipped about, but stopped short of spitting out the word on the tip of her tongue. Her father’s eyes lingered on the road, and his brows arched thoughtfully.

The sight refueled her ire. It was all too much—Rowdy spending the night in Liza’s big brass bed, the way he’d ignored her lately, the barn encounter, her uncontrollable body. Gritting her teeth, she growled in frustration and took off toward the ranch house. Bounding up the stairs and across the porch, she barely paused to wrench open the door.

“Goodness, Angel, what’s happened?” Constance, her stepmother, asked as the door banged shut.

A burning sob formed in Angel’s throat. She shook her head.

Constance was at her side, guiding her to the hide sofa near the stone fireplace in the center of the front parlor. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” Angel covered her face with both hands. “Everything.”

“Which is it? Nothing or everything?”

She didn’t have an answer.

“Did you and Rowdy have an argument?” Constance asked in her smooth and calming tone.

“No.” Angel dropped her hands onto her lap and leaned her head on the the woman’s shoulder. Her stepmother always opened a soft spot in Angel’s heart. Six years ago, a local farmer, Ashton Kramer, had ordered a bride, but died chasing down a runaway stage three days before Constance arrived, Folks figured he’d been trying to save the stage because he thought Constance was on it. She hadn’t been, and when she’d arrived in Cottonwood there’d been a passel of men ready to step in and claim Ashton’s order.

The wind had been awful that day, and full of tiny bits of snow. Angel had instantly been drawn to the beautiful young woman and invited her to stay at the ranch. Her father had stepped in, refuting Angel’s request, but before the hour was up and the snow grew into big flakes, Constance and her trunks of eastern dresses were loaded in the Clayton wagon.

That’s what usually happened. Being the only child of one of the richest ranchers in the territory, Angel frequently got her way, though she didn’t take advantage of the fact too often. Years ago she’d concluded that hard work and determination were more rewarding.

Lifting her head now, she squared her shoulders. “He’s driving me crazy, Constance. Pa says I treat him like a slave. I don’t mean to, I just…”

Constance smiled. “Maybe you’re trying too hard.”

Angel let out a long sigh, fully disgusted with her behavior of late. She’d become so infatuated with Rowdy it was no wonder he hightailed it out of the ranch every chance he got.

It hadn’t always been like that. Rowdy had been at the ranch for over a year. She’d liked him from the first time they’d met, and felt a strange connection to him. He was knowledgeable and respected others, as well as the land. His type of dedication and loyalty was seldom seen in drifters.

They’d gotten along quite well, but the last month or so, he’d been setting off a mass of unusual and uncontrollable sensations that left her heart pounding, and a jumbled mess of hot, raging ache deep in her core. It was a sort of obsession. Anytime they met, it was as if their bodies carried on a passionate conversation—a magical, mystical one that awakened an intense swirling need inside her.

She’d thought about talking to Constance. Normally, Angel discussed every womanly thing that happened with her stepmother, but there was something about the way she felt toward Rowdy that was too private to share. It was precious, and somehow only for him to know.

Yet she couldn’t talk to Rowdy about it. Lately, he seemed guarded, almost frightened of her. He still teased her, but not like he used to.

“I know it’s hard, but everything that’s meant to be turns out in the end,” Constance offered.

Angel cringed, wondering if her stepmother had read her mind.

“Men have their pride. They like to call the shots. You just need to be patient,” she continued.

Angel shook her head. “I think I’ve ran out of patience.” She sighed again and tried to change the subject. “I wish I was more like you, Constance. You’re always so positive. So happy.”

“I learned it from you. When I first moved out here I was scared and worried, and you were so caring, so wise beyond your years. You showed me what heaven on earth means.” Constance patted Angel’s knee and glanced toward the front door. “Just be yourself, sweetie. I’ve seen the way Rowdy looks at you. Like your father looks at me,” she whispered.

Angel’s heart slammed against her chest so hard she pressed a hand to her breastbone. If ever there were two people who worshiped each other, it was Constance and Ellis Clayton. The entire territory knew that.

Chapter Two

Rowdy McGuire sat with his back to the door, cringing every time the hinges creaked. He’d done it this time. Kissed the boss’s daughter. Ellis Clayton should fire him. It wasn’t Angel’s fault. He’d be sure and tell Ellis that. He was to blame. What had started out months ago as a bit of lighthearted flirting had grown into something he couldn’t quite comprehend, other than it had to stop—before he sullied her reputation.

The saloon door opened again, and Rowdy glanced over his shoulder. Frank Sanders walked in, the spurs on his boots jingling a lopsided tune. “Hey, Rowdy,” he called, making his way to the bar along the back wall. “You ready to leave the Clayton spread and come work for me?”

“Naw, I’ll stay where I’m at,” Rowdy responded. It was the same exchange they had every time their paths crossed, and lately, he’d been thinking that if he had a lick of sense, he should seriously consider the man’s offer.

“Well, you let me know when you are.”

“I’ll do that.” Rowdy turned back to the glass in his hand, the one he’d been spinning around in circles since arriving at the Whistle Stop. He should’ve gone back to the ranch, got Angel’s list.

The dress she wore today was a formfitting creation of yellow, the same shade of sunshine as her massive curls. It made her big brown eyes look as if they were flecked with gold.

Even here in the saloon, where stale cigar smoke and the scent of whiskey hung in to the air, he could smell her lemony scent. His body tensed, grew hard and edgy. The woman was going to be the death of him. All it took was a simple glimpse of her and his loins burst to life, throbbing and aching.

Liza Spencer pulled out the chair next to him and sat. “You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin.” She rested her chin on one fist. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” he said, taking a pensive sip of the whiskey.

“You, Rowdy McGuire, make a poor liar.”

He emptied the rest of the prairie dew in his glass, gritting his teeth as it hit the back of his throat like a ball of fire.

“When are you gonna face the inevitable?”

Rowdy shook his head. “There is no inevitable.”

She laughed. “The rolling stone has set down roots.”

He shot her a menacing stare—probably because her words stuck like a cocklebur under a saddle. He’d been roaming for ten years, since he was sixteen and buried both his ma and pa on the Oregon Trail, but the moment he’d met Angel Clayton his wanderlust had dried up.

He’d tried to use Liza once—to drown Angel from his mind—but after he’d followed Liza up the stairs, he’d stopped. Another woman wouldn’t erase Angel. He was in too deep for that. Which made no sense. He liked his wandering life. Not being responsible for anyone but himself. Why did one woman matter so much?

When Angel had heard about him following Liza up the stairs, the hurt he saw in her big brown eyes had all but gutted him. He’d thought about telling her he and Liza hadn’t been pirooting, but ultimately concluded it was a moot point. She was Angel Clayton—the most sought after woman in the Territory. She couldn’t take up with the likes of him—a drifting cowpoke.

He knew his station in life, and Angel deserved more than he could offer. She deserved a man of means who knew about the finer things in life. One who would escort her around the world and cover her with silk gowns and jewels. Someone like Timothy Milner, whose family owned the Double B. It was no secret Milner expected Angel to marry him. Their union would create the largest ranch in the western hemisphere.

Liza pointed to his glass. “You want another shot of whiskey?”

Rowdy shook his head. Whiskey wasn’t going to help the feelings eating at him today.

“Buck up, cowboy.” Liza playfully punched his arm.

Rowdy wasn’t one to take to feeling sorry for himself. He’d been on his own too long for that, and in most things he’d done just fine. He had several hundred head of cattle running with Clayton’s herds, and a fair amount of money sitting in the Cottonwood bank. However, when it came to figuring out what to do about Angel Clayton he was a complete failure.

He let out a deep sigh. “Leave me alone, Liza.”

She whacked the back of his head hard enough to send his hat askew. “You’re about the most ignorant creature I’ve ever met.”

Had she been a man he’d have knocked her off her seat, but since it was Liza, he straightened his hat and glared at her.

She shook her head. “Maybe you need to head south. Find a herd of longhorns to look after. You’re about as stubborn as they are.”

Rowdy pushed away from the table before the steam in his ears made him say something he’d regret.

She grabbed his elbow. “You’re not going anywhere.”

He wrenched his arm away and stood. After slapping the money for his drink on the bar, he turned around, and came eye to eye with Ellis Clayton.

If he were a lesser man, he might have shrunk to the floor from the heavy weight of dread pouring over him, but Rowdy planted his heels and met the man’s stare. “Ellis,” he said with a nod.

“Just the man I was looking for.” The rancher’s brown eyes, full of the same grit and determination as his daughter’s, went to Liza. “Afternoon, Liza.”

“Afternoon, Ellis,” she replied, rising from her chair. “Can I get you men a drink?”

“Please,” Ellis agreed. “I need to talk to Rowdy.”

“I’ll bring the bottle,” she said, flipping around.

Ellis slapped Rowdy’s shoulder. “Have a seat.”

Against his better judgment, Rowdy sat, guts churning and sweat popping out on the back of his neck. Not with fear of being fired, but at the thought of disappointing Ellis Clayton. He was a good man, and Rowdy didn’t like letting anyone down.

“I owe you an apology, Rowdy,” Ellis started.

Rowdy removed his hat to scratch his head. Part in confusion, part because Liza was back, setting two glasses and a full bottle of good whiskey, not the prairie dew the establishment sold to the everyday crowd, on the table.

Once she moved away Rowdy looked the man in the eye. “Excuse me?”

Ellis poured them each a glass. “I owe you an apology for the way Angel’s behaving lately. The way she’s treating you.”

Rowdy picked up his glass and took a swallow before the glob in his throat made it impossible. Angel was not only beautiful, she was smart and compassionate, and the thought of anyone—even her father—slighting her was enough to make Rowdy see red.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into that girl,” Ellis continued, lifting his glass. “She’s always been headstrong, but lately…” His words trailed off as he took a drink.

Rowdy clutched the glass. “Angel’s a good woman, Ellis. You have reason to be right proud of your daughter.”

“Oh, I know, and I am. I love that girl beyond reason. I just want you to know I won’t be offended if you tell her you’re not her slave.”

“What?”

“She’s old enough to go to town and get her own baubles,” Ellis said, topping off both their glasses. “It’s not like her to expect someone to do everything for her.”

“I don’t mind picking up things for her,” Rowdy assured him. “Or Mrs. Clayton. But, Ellis,” he stated sternly, “I’m not a slave to anyone. Never had been and never will be.”

Ellis held up a hand. “I know, Rowdy. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just saying Angel doesn’t need to be coddled. She’s of good stock. Has what it takes to live out here.”

Rowdy knew that, and admired Angel for her grit. But he frowned. A woman of Angel’s rank deserved to be coddled. Matter of fact, she should be spoiled rotten—treated like a queen.

Ellis leaned back in his chair. “I do, however, appreciate the way you look out for her.” The man grinned. “Did you know she once freed a full-grown bear from a trap? And healed its wounds? The crazy thing shows up every once in a while, looking for a bowl of honey.”

“Yeah, I know,” Rowdy admitted with a grin. He’d helped her more than once when an animal had looked to her to heal its wounds. “I’ve met her passel of critters. That one-legged rooster is nothing to mess with.”

Ellis let out a laugh. “Last spring she convinced a fox to nurse a batch of kittens along with its cubs after the mother cat died.”

“I believe it,” Rowdy admitted, grinning as warmth blanketed his insides. “She has a way with animals.”

“Yes, she does. People, too.” Ellis was silent for a moment before he laid a hand on the table. “Well, now for the real reason I wanted to talk to you. Since you came to work for me…” he paused, glancing at Rowdy “…how long has it been now?”

“A little over a year,” Rowdy answered without thought. Ellis was right. People, too, looked for guidance from Angel. The way she cajoled Hank to take it easy was remarkable. The old man didn’t know he was on light duty, yet every other cowhand did. And there again, she’d convinced them Hank wasn’t ever to know—and he wouldn’t. No one would go against Angel. Not because she was the boss’s daughter, but because she was Angel. There wasn’t a person around she wouldn’t treat just as she did Hank if the need arose.

“You’ve made good progress in a year.” Ellis leaned forward and picked up his glass. He held it in the air, and Rowdy copied the action, but his salute was for Angel.

They clinked glasses and each took a sip before Ellis started again. “Well, like I was saying, since you came to work for me, I’ve been able to slack off some, spend more time with Constance.” He winked. “I appreciate that, and I’ve been thinking I’d like to take a trip.”

“A trip?”

“Yes, to England.” Ellis nodded. “That’s where my pa was from. He came across the sea as a young man, settled out East and took to raising cotton. That wasn’t for me, though. Even before the war I knew I had to head West. My younger brother, Eli, still has the plantation.” Ellis waved a hand. “Anyway, I’d like to see England, spend time just living while I’m young enough to enjoy it.”

Rowdy spun his glass in a circle. The notion of Angel sailing across the sea, going to England, sounded dangerous. She was curious and headstrong enough to get herself in a heap of trouble.

“Well, that’s where you come in, Rowdy,” Ellis said with finality.

He snapped his head up, wondering if he’d spoken his thoughts aloud.

“I need a good man to take care of Heaven on Earth while I’m gone.” Ellis chuckled. “Hell of a name for a ranch, ain’t it? Christine, my first wife, God rest her soul, named it. We traveled all the way out here in a prairie schooner, just she and I. She was a good woman, full of spice and vinegar. Angel’s a lot like her. When we topped the hill on the north side of the property, she said, ‘That’s it, Ellis, that’s our heaven on earth.’ She also insisted on naming our daughter Angel. Said it was only fitting.”

“I reckon she was right,” Rowdy offered, having had the same thoughts. Angel was the perfect name.

Ellis took another drink of whiskey. “So, what do you think?”

Rowdy searched his mind for a quick second, wondering exactly what he was supposed to be thinking about. An imaginary bell went off. Ellis was asking for assistance in finding a foreman. “Well—” he nodded toward the bar “—Frank Sanders is a good man. Don’t know if he’s interested in a new job. He’s been foreman at the Double B for several years now.”

Ellis frowned, his gaze bouncing to the bar and back to Rowdy. “Sanders is a fine man, but he’s not who I want.”

“I suppose I could do some check—”

“I want you, Rowdy. I’m offering you the job.”

“Me?” A shiver ripped down Rowdy’s spine. He’d always considered employment an equal partnership. When his time was up, he left. No questions or hard feelings on either side. The responsibilities of a foreman’s job would make leaving difficult.

“Yes, you. I want you as my foreman.” Ellis let out a small laugh. “Maybe we should talk about a partnership, given the number of cows you got running on my land.” He rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I’ll think more about that while I’m gone.” He leaned forward and set an elbow on the table. “What’d you say?”

“Well, Ellis, I—”

“You’ll have to move out of the bunkhouse, of course. There’re plenty of spare bedrooms in the ranch house. It’ll be easier for you to keep an eye on Angel.”

Rowdy nearly choked on his whiskey. He could barely keep his hands off her as it was, but living in the same house… “Angel’s not going with you?” he asked, sounding like a bullfrog with a cold.

“No, it’ll be just me and Constance. I know my daughter. She’d go stir-crazy on a ship for two weeks. She’ll stay at the ranch with you.”

Rowdy wished he’d been fired.

Two weeks later—five days after her parents had left—Rowdy sneaked into the house before sunrise, lessening the chance he’d run into Angel.

He was sitting at Ellis’s desk, making notes about the calves in the north pasture, when the hair on the back of his neck rose. A lump formed in his throat and his heart stomped across his chest like a stampede of yearlings.

Wearing only a flimsy white nightgown, her bare feet peeking out from beneath the hem, Angel pushed the door open.

His breath quickened. Her golden curls hung wildly about her shoulders, and her dark eyes still shimmered with sleepiness. He snapped his gaze back to the desktop as sweat popped out on his forehead.

“Good morning,” she said in greeting, walking into the room. “I was on my way to make a pot of coffee. Would you like some?”

“No, thank you.”

“It’s no problem. I can’t drink a full pot by myself.” Stopping near the corner of the desk, she ran a finger over the wood. “I still don’t understand why you refused to move into the house.”

He shuffled the papers, pretending he hadn’t heard.

Her sigh echoed in the room. “There’s plenty of room. It’s a big house.”

If there was any hope he’d make it through the next two months, some ground rules had to be set. He’d never been firm with Angel, never wanted to—nor needed to be. Most mornings he woke up wondering what little chore she’d conjure up for him to do. She was clever. Her requests never interfered with his job or the ranch, and in most incidences, they were somewhat needed. The most appealing aspect was that her chores usually gave him an opportunity to tease her until her cheeks blazed.

But lately, the unusual combination of excitement and fear he felt at the chance of running into her was like nothing he’d ever known. That she kept leaving little hints of herself around didn’t help. Right now, a hair ribbon hung on the edge of the fireplace grate, and her shoes, with stockings neatly tucked inside, sat beneath the desk. Practically every day since her father left she’d washed her unmentionables and hung them to dry right outside the office window.

Rowdy sucked in a fortifying breath. “You shouldn’t be walking around like that.”

“Like what?”

His hands balled into fists, but it didn’t stop him from glancing up. “Any one of the cowhands could walk in here.”

She let out a little laugh. “My father would fire them on the spot.”

“He’s not here.”

Her trim brows arched. “Then he’d expect you to fire them on the spot.”

Rowdy stood, and his eyes locked near the neckline of her gown. The thin material revealed where her breasts darkened, and highlighted the peaks of her taut nipples beneath. His lungs locked. “Let’s get something straight, Miss Clayton.”

“Hmm, let’s, Rowdy,” she whispered, leaning across the edge of the desk.

His teeth clenched, yet the ability to be angry, really angry, at her didn’t exist. “That’s Mr. McGuire.”

“Mr. McGuire, is it?”

Her husky whisper sent his insides in all directions. He attempted to glare at her, but failed when his eyes encountered the sparks glittering in her big brown ones. Leaning toward her, he copied her whisper. “Yes, Miss Clayton. It’s Mr. McGuire. That’s how you’ll address me, when and if you see me.” The heated vibrations between them made the air snap and crackle.

A coy smile formed as she moved, coming nose to chin with him at the corner of the desk. “All right, Mr. McGuire.”

Rowdy had to delve deep to find the willpower to keep his lips off hers. He took a step forward, forcing her to take one back. “I’m the foreman of this ranch, which means I’m in charge of everything.”

“Yes,” she murmured, “you are.”

He took another step, then another, inching her backward toward the door. Keeping his lips hovering over hers as they moved, he said, “Including you.”

One of her slender brows arched. “Me?” Her tone was soft, yet challenging.

They were through the doorway, and he kept moving, forcing her down the hall. “Yes, you.” His nose bumped hers. “You will not parade yourself about half-dressed. Not in front of me or anyone else.”

She grabbed the end post of the large staircase, stopping both of them. “Not even my father tells m—”

“Nor will you ride the hills by yourself, or run to town on a whim.” He laid a hand on the stair railing, curling his fingers around the polished wood for support. No longer whispering, he said, “I have ten thousand head of cattle to see to, and don’t need any trouble from you.”

Huffing, she asked, “Trouble from me?”

“Yes.” He nodded toward the second floor. “Now hightail your little butt upstairs and get dressed.”

Her eyes widened. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Oh, yes, I can.” He took a step back and pointed upward. “Go, now.”

Angel’s chin dropped. “I don’t—”

His palm playfully connecting with her backside stopped her outburst. It had been action without thought. Being responsible for her virtue was more than he’d bargained for. “Go before I drag you up those stairs and dress you myself.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me,” he challenged.

The staring match lasted a few minutes before she gave in and stomped up the stairs. Stopping on about the fifth one, she turned around and glared at him. “You’ll rue this day, Mr. McGuire.”

His eyes locked on the way her breasts rose and fell. “I already do, Angel girl. I already do.”

Chapter Three

The ire Rowdy had created lingered, and made Angel recall every one of her failed attempts. After a morning of sulking, she found her determination rebounding, and by the end of the week she had her plans for retaliation fully in place.

Shading her eyes with one hand, she searched the valley below. Tiny dots came into view and her heart skipped in her chest. “You can run, Rowdy McGuire, but you can’t hide.” She slapped her hat back in place.

Templeton picked the trail down the hill. The horse was sure-footed and didn’t need guidance from her. The two of them had been roaming the hills and valleys of the ranch for years—long before Mr. McGuire had said she couldn’t.

After that morning on the stairs, Angel had taken Constance’s suggestion to heart and decided to ignore Rowdy. It hadn’t been too difficult, since he never came within one hundred yards of her.

Then two days ago, her plan took a new route, after she’d had a ranch hand take her to town. She’d needed the counsel of another woman, and who better than the one woman who knew Rowdy better than anyone else—Liza?

No matter the profession the woman chose, Liza Spencer was a stellar citizen of Cottonwood. The woman was not only beautiful, she was smart.

Angel gazed at the men branding the young stock below. Even from this distance she could pick out Rowdy. She didn’t need to see his hair, which teetered between dark brown and black, nor those gray eyes that looked like pure silver when the light hit them just right. No, from this distance it was his tall form, the self-assured, yet lofty way he held himself and his easy, but determined swagger that identified him.

Shifting her weight in the saddle, and hoping the movement would quell the tingling quivers that infested her body whenever she thought of him, Angel followed his shape as he moved from the fire to his horse.

She had the wherewithal and determination to get what she wanted. Hunting Rowdy down like a rabid wolf hadn’t worked, and neither had pretending he didn’t exist. But with Liza’s aid, she’d come up with a new plan. The woman said Rowdy needed to be nudged in the right direction. Angel knew how to nudge.

Rowdy mounted and turned his horse her way. Suppressing a grin, she kneed Templeton, steering the gelding straight toward Rowdy’s black mustang.

“Miss Clayton,” he said as their horses grew closer.

She brought Templeton to a halt. “Mr. McGuire.”

The mustang stopped next to her knee. “Is there something wrong at the ranch?”

The sun, high overhead and blazing with all the heat it could muster in early May, made his eyes silver. “No,” she answered, tipping back the brim of her hat.

“Then is there something you need?” he asked, looking everywhere except directly at her.

“No, I just thought I’d check on the branding, see how everything’s going.”

His gaze went to the half-dozen cowhands working the herd several yards away. “Fine, everything’s going just fine. We’re almost done for the day.”

“Anything I can do to help?” she asked.

The gaze that swung around to settle on her was cloudy, and his brows were furrowed. “No,” he said, somewhat cautiously.

She fanned her neck with her fingers, hoping to draw his attention to the top three buttons of her blouse, which she’d left undone. “All right, then, I’ll just go talk to Hank for a moment.”

Rowdy reached down and took hold of the rein looped along Templeton’s neck. “Why do you need to talk to Hank?”

“I want to ride to town with him tonight.” She turned to the group of cowhands as if searching for Hank, and tried not to smile. If Rowdy’s scowl was anything to go by, he wasn’t happy about her plan.

“What for?”

She shrugged. “It’s Saturday night. I don’t feel like sitting home alone.”

“Cottonwood gets a little rough on Saturday night. I don’t think your father would approve of you going there.”

She met his gaze, smiling openly now. “My father is most likely boarding a ship in the New York harbor right now.”

“That doesn’t matter. He wouldn’t approve.”

“My father hasn’t stopped me from going to town for years. I highly doubt he’d start now.” This was the first time she and Rowdy had spoken all week, and the exchange, though not overly friendly or romantic, had her senses reeling.

His lips drew into a tight line. “What, Miss Clayton, do you plan on doing in town?”

Those silver eyes of his were no longer on the men, but roaming her torso. Her nipples hardened and tiny jabs of sweet pain shot across her breasts. She sucked in a breath and squeezed the saddle horn with her fingers. “Oh, I don’t know. I have several friends I could visit.”

The mustang shifted, and Rowdy’s knee brushed against hers. “Why don’t you invite your friends out to the ranch?”

She let out a nervous laugh, more from the shock of their bodies touching than his words. “It’s a little late to send out invitations.”

He still held Templeton’s reins, which kept their knees pressed together. “Who would you invite?”

Angel hadn’t thought that far in advance. A frown tugged at her brows. She’d assumed he would offer to take her to town, or refuse to let her go. “Oh, uh, probably Tanna Brown and Carla Snipe.”

“Go write out the invitations. I’ll take them to town for you.”

“Row— Mr. McGuire,” she started, “It’s—”

“I’ll ride back to the ranch with you,” he interrupted, steering the mustang aside so Templeton could turn about.

“Wh-what about the branding?”

They were riding up the hill, so he had to let go of Templeton, but he didn’t answer. Angel kneed the horse and they reached the summit at the same time. “What about the branding?” she repeated.

“The men will finish.”

They galloped for a short distance before she pulled Templeton to a slower gait. Rowdy copied her actions, and when they were riding calmly, side by side, she attempted to coax him into conversation, as Liza had suggested. “Do you like it here, Rowdy?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Angel searched for another topic. “Did your travels ever take you to England?”

“Nope.” He looked at her quizzically. “You wishing you’d gone with your folks?”

She shook her head. “I’m not much for traveling. I’ve gone out East a few times, but can’t say I liked it much. I’d rather be home. Have you been East?”

“Yep.”

“Been to New York?”

“Yep.”

“Plan on going back?”

“Nope.”

The laugh they shared tickled her insides. He seemed to relax a bit, and then a casual conversation flowed between them. They talked like they used to, of things they both wondered about, as well as those they knew the answers to. As they started down the hill toward the ranch house, she asked, “Why haven’t you married?”

He shrugged. “Guess I’ve never met a woman bossy enough to suit me.”

She glanced sideways. The cocky grin she loved was there, and he winked. Her heart flipped and flopped. He’d called her bossy more times than not.

She’d longed for his teasing the past few weeks. “I’ve missed you lately, Rowdy.”

He brought his horse to a stop in the middle of the ranch yard. When she reined in, he moved forward until their horses stood side by side. “Missed me?”

She nodded.

“I’ve been right here.”

She shrugged. It was an attempt to look indifferent, whereas in reality her heart was threatening to rip open. “Sometimes I think you don’t like being around me.”

He gazed straight ahead, as if he couldn’t face her. “I like being around you.”

The words were flat and sounded forced. That hurt. She blinked away the moisture in her eyes and steered Templeton into the barn. Once there, she dropped the reins, preparing to dismount. The hands that grasped her waist were gentle, yet firm, and sent tiny flares zinging through her body like shooting stars in a midnight sky.

Rowdy lifted her from the saddle and lowered her to the floor. “I like being with you, Angel,” he whispered from behind her.

It took a moment before she understood what he meant. Heart in her throat, she twisted around.

The shimmering silver eyes staring down at her made her insides melt. His fingertip, slightly rough, brushed her cheek. “Way too much.”

She opened her mouth, attempting to speak, but no words formed. Her lips trembled and she licked them before biting the bottom one, staring at him the entire time.

His hold on her waist grew firmer, tighter, and she shifted her hips, wanting to feel his touch through the layers of her skirts. Instinct had her stretching upward. She paused when her lips were half an inch from his. “I like being with you, too, Rowdy.”

He growled and closed his eyes. The muscles in his neck tensed. She ran her hands up his arms, over his shoulders, to gently cup his jawline. “Show me, Rowdy. Show me how much you like me.”

The ferocity of his mouth connecting with hers should have surprised her, but it didn’t. Searing, his lips sent a flame of desire all the way to her toes. First her hat, then his fell to the floor. Lacing her arms around his neck, she pulled herself against him and, stretching up on her toes, kissed him back with all the intensity that had built up inside her during the past months.

He stepped backward, taking her with him until he bumped into the barn wall, and then his tongue slipped between her lips and tangled with hers. It was divine, and sent heat racing through her veins. As one, they spun around until her back was up against the wall. Her hands raced over him, caressing his cheeks, cupping his neck, combing into his hair before moving on to explore other regions—the bulk of his shoulders, the curve of his back and sides.

His were just as frantic, going from her hair to her waist and back again, leaving every spot wanting more. Sensations assaulted her. Nothing had ever tasted so good, felt so right. He was indeed perfect—and kissing him was better than she’d dreamed it would be.

They spun again, and she pressed him against the wall with her entire body. His lips raked across her cheek, down her neck and then back to her mouth. She groaned, burrowing her breasts into his hard chest.

Abruptly, he jerked his mouth away from hers. With a gentle hand, he pushed her aside. “Go write your invitations, Angel. Go write them now.”

She had no choice but to continue moving, or land face-first on the barn floor. Stumbling toward the door, she glanced over her shoulder.

Rowdy’s back was to her. He was bent over with his hands on his knees, as if trying to catch his breath.

She hit the ranch house steps running, and didn’t stop until she flung herself on the divan. Angel sat there, huffing, puffing and grinning.

Her heart danced in her chest. Whether Rowdy was ready to admit it or not, they were destined to be together forever—something she’d known for months.

Chapter Four

Rowdy sucked in air until his burning lungs refused to hold any more, and then exhaled with force. He pitched forward, grabbing hold of the stall board, and grunting.

The grunt turned into a groan. His life had gone to hell in a handbasket here at Heaven on Earth. He’d accepted the foreman’s job because he didn’t want anyone else seeing to Angel’s welfare, but he hadn’t moved into the ranch house. Had flat-out refused. Knowing Angel slept in that big house—alone—was pure torture.

But this past week had been worse. She’d completely ignored him, to the point that her gaze never even came his way. Her absence consumed him, and the lack of sleep made him edgy and cross. The cowhands saw it, though to their credit, they didn’t comment.

Damn Ellis Clayton and his trip across the ocean. Rowdy almost wished the ship would sink. A shudder ran across his shoulders, as if a goose had walked across his grave. Damnation, that was a terrible thought for a man to have—wishing another ill.

He lifted his head. Templeton was staring at him as if the animal was afraid Rowdy was dying. He wondered if he was. A kiss like that was enough to stop a man’s heart.

After another deep breath, he turned, glancing through the open barn door toward the ranch house. He liked her, all right. That was the problem. Pushing away from the stall, he grabbed both hats off the barn floor. Enough was enough.

By the time he reached the front porch, his footsteps had become determined and hurried. Without knocking, he entered the large home. A gasp made him swivel and peer into the front parlor. Angel sat on the divan, her expressive eyes wide and glowing, her curls tousled. His heart started racing again. She was so damn irresistible.

He tossed her hat on a small table and leaned against the door frame, giving his heart a moment to slow down—as if that could happen. Flinching at the thought, Rowdy tightened every muscle, determined to prove it could.

Angel stood, looking at him questioningly and twisting her hands together.

“The invitations?” They weren’t why he’d come, but now seemed like a good excuse. The wherewithal to tell her that kiss should never have happened had disappeared.

“I—I haven’t written them yet.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Her spine stiffened. The action thrust her breasts forward.

Rowdy fought to keep his eyes off the skin revealed by the open V of her blouse. “Yes, why?”

Her hands went to her hips. “Because I just walked into the house.”

“Looked to me like you were sitting on the sofa, not doing much of anything.” He bit the inside of his cheek. Seeing her flustered was damn near as exhilarating as tasting her smoldering kisses. He took a step into the room. “If you want me to take them to town, you’d better get writing.”

She stepped forward in turn, and her gaze, washing over him from head to toe, sent a thrill through him. These battles were getting harder and harder to win. “Angel—” He broke off as their gazes locked.

She stared at him as if lost in thought.. “Rowdy, do you remember when you first came here?”

Caught off guard by her change in subject, and the way her tone had become soft and gentle, he frowned. “Of course.”

She turned, waving around the room. “You and my father sat here while he interviewed you. He normally uses his office, but Constance and I were waxing the floor in there.”

Ellis had explained that. Rowdy remained silent.

“I came down the hall and heard your voice.” Angel turned to face him. “I had to peek in, see who was in here, because you sounded familiar.”

His pulse knocked against his skin. “I’d just arrived in Wyoming. We’d never met before then.”

She stepped forward, her big brown eyes searching his. “I know. I listened outside the door to the entire interview.”

His fingers itched to touch her hair. He allowed them to gently brush the curls off her shoulders. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to know everything about you.” Her hand grasped his as it fell from her hair. “I was drawn to you that day, and have been ever since. I can’t take a breath without thinking about you.”

Her fingers trembled against his palm, and he tightened his hold. “Angel—”

“Don’t, Rowdy.” She shook her head. “Don’t tell me I don’t know what I’m saying, because I do.”

Something inside him snapped. Pulling her forward, he dipped his face, catching her slightly parted lips with his. This time, their kiss was slow and easy, yet more powerful than the one in the barn. His heart was in it this time; it had cracked open and was spreading tenderness throughout his body.

Her arms slid around his waist. He eased his lips from hers and kissed her cheek and temple before tucking her head beneath his chin. Securing her in place, he murmured. “Aw, Angel girl, what am I going to do with you?”

“Love me?” she whispered against his chest.

Kissing the top of her head, he tightened his grasp, knowing he held more right now than he’d ever dreamed of. “You deserve more than I can offer, Angel. Much more.”

She pulled back, staring up at him with a deep frown.

The thunder of hoofbeats sounded outside, signaling the return of the ranch hands,. Rowdy gave her a little shove. “Go write your invitations. I’ll take them to town.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want company, Rowdy.”

“I do,” he said.

A tiny frown furrowed her brow. “Why?”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Because it’s not safe for us to be alone.” He tenderly pushed her toward the doorway. “Go write them.”

She opened her mouth, but closed it when he shook his head.

Rowdy followed her out of the room, then walked to the front door while she went down the hall to Ellis’s office. It was his own fault. The thought of Angel tagging along with Hank to Cottonwood on Saturday night had made Rowdy snort like a bull, so his second choice, taking a couple invitations to town, seemed like a good idea. Now it sounded even better. Maybe one of her friends could hang around for a few days. The barrier would help.

He nodded to the ranch hands as they dismounted. He and Angel weren’t alone at the ranch, but there wasn’t a man among the group of cowboys who’d be able to stand in his way when his final ounce of control snapped. It was when—not if. He was too close to giving in and accepting all Angel offered. Ellis would be back in six weeks and then… Rowdy glanced about. Maybe Liza was right. He should head to Texas.

His gaze went to the far side of the compound, where the original log cabin sat, the one Ellis and his first wife had built when they’d claimed the property. It was solid and still in good shape. Ellis had said it wouldn’t take much to clean it up, if Rowdy was interested in living there instead of the bunkhouse.

Angel arrived at his side, and without a word, Rowdy took the envelopes and walked down the veranda stairs. The invitations were a good plan. He could spend the evening reading about longhorns in the bunkhouse while she and her friends quilted and gossiped in the parlor.

A few hours later, he realized in this, too, he was wrong. Tanna’s squeal when she’d opened the envelope from Angel had been heard from one end of Cottonwood to the other. By the time he bought himself a bath and some new clothes, half the town had gathered at the Browns’ house, waiting for him to escort them to the ranch.

He felt as if he led a posse, the way the crowd behind him sped across the plains. The sun was streaking the sky pink, yellow and orange by the time he and the wagons full of people reached the ranch yard.

Angel walked across the veranda while he brought his horse to a halt near the hitching post. When she paused near the top step, Rowdy wondered if he’d been punched in the gut. The shinny gold dress she wore not only fitted her like a glove, but made his eyes want to play peekaboo with the full mounds of her breasts teasingly exposed by the low neckline.

He dragged in a breath and climbed out of the saddle. Wrapping the reins around the closest post, he paused with one foot on the bottom step. “Your friends—” he waved his hat toward the crowd “—invited a few more friends.”

“I see that,” she answered, glancing up when she heard squeals of delight.

“I’ll, uh, stick around. See nothing gets out of control.” His gaze once again dropped to her breasts, and his heart landed in the vicinity of his toes.

Chapter Five

Angel’s heart twirled like a ballerina atop a music box. She couldn’t muster more than a slight nod of agreement. Rowdy was back and, she noted, in fine form. The scent of spicy soap wafted in the air as he flipped his hat back on and turned to glance at the crowd forming. The excitement lingering since their kiss pulsed through her veins, while at the same time dread rose in her stomach. It appeared none of her friends had had plans this particular Saturday night.

Her gaze went to the doorway. She’d set out a few cookies and sandwiches in case Rowdy hadn’t eaten in town. Glancing back to the incoming swarm, she realized she should have butchered a cow.

“This was the best idea ever!” Tanna screeched, racing up onto the porch.

Carla followed on Tanna’s heels. “Oh, yes, we haven’t had a celebration in ages!”

Since your wedding to J.T. last month, Angel wanted to say. She glanced at Rowdy. His grin seemed as strained as hers. He touched the brim of his hat with one hand and turned away. Tanna tugged Angel’s arm, twirling her around. Over her shoulder, Angel watched Rowdy lead his horse to the barn. A new thought ticked in her head. Both Tanna and Carla were newly married, and several of the other couples climbing out of wagons were courting. Perhaps the hand holding and flirtatious glances of the group would nudge Rowdy.

An hour later, Angel, in the kitchen wiping up spills and replenishing plates, found frustration left her nerve endings raw. The way Liza had told her to tie her corset so her breasts rode high, and the rouge powder the woman had given her to brush over her cleavage, didn’t seem to draw Rowdy’s attention at all. The scowl on his face showed disgust, not interest. Being around others sneaking kisses and giggling at each other didn’t seem to entice him, either.

Absently, she ran her hands over the front pleats of the yellow gown she’d decided to wear—after trying on half the ones in her closet—since it had the lowest neckline. Glancing down, checking her cleavage, she spotted two long dark smears.

“What?” she gasped, and caught sight of the blueberries on her fingers. “Oh, good grief, Tanna.”

“What?” her friend asked, drying plates so people could refill them.

“You made blueberry pie.”

“Of course I did. It’s Emerald’s favorite.” Tanna set the plates down on the edge of the table. “Oh, you got some on your dress.”

“Yes, I noticed.” Angel grabbed a towel.

“You need to take that off. Soak it in cold water promptly or it’ll be stained forever,” Tanna offered.

“I know,” she huffed, moving toward the rear staircase. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Try and keep the hounds happy, will you?”

Tanna laughed and Angel stomped up the steps. Now what was she going to wear? Not that it mattered. She could be naked and not catch Rowdy’s interest. She was halfway along the upstairs hall when someone caught her arm.

“Finally, a moment alone.”

She tugged, trying to break the man’s hold. “Leave me alone, Timothy.”

He grabbed her other arm. “How about a kiss?”

“Why on earth would I want to kiss you?”

“Because the two of us are perfect for each other. The merger of our families will create a dynasty.”

She didn’t see the need to repeat what she’d told him countless times. Twisting against his hold, she glared at him. Being the daughter of Ellis Clayton, though it had its good points, definitely had its downside.

He pushed, making her stumble into the wall behind. “Think what we can do with all that money. The places we can go. The things we can buy.” His eyes landed on the low neckline of her dress, and his breath smelled of whiskey. “I’ve never seen you looking so good. Did you dress just for me? Wanted me to see what will soon be mine?” He pressed her harder against the wall.

“Stop it, Timothy!” Thoroughly disgusted, she tried to push him away, while twisting her face from his hot breath and wet, sloppy lips.

Suddenly, a rush of wind raced past, taking Timothy with it. Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, Angel spun to see where he’d gone.

Rowdy had the man by the front of his shirt. “If you’ve got an ounce of wit, Milner, you’ll walk down those steps, out the door, and ride out of here without saying a word.”

“L-let go,” Timothy moaned, clutching Rowdy’s forearms.

“You gonna touch her?” Rowdy asked.

Timothy shook his head. Rowdy released him but didn’t step away.

Easing away from the wall, Timothy shot him an irritated, but nervous glance. “Geez, McGuire, just ‘cause you’re the foreman around here doesn’t give you cause to stop a man from kissing the woman he’s gonna marry.”

Angel’s stomach flipped. Flying forward, stopping inches in front of Timothy, she glared at him, ire stiffening her spine. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not marrying you—not today, not this year, not ever!”

Rowdy took her arm. “Go back to your party, Angel.”

She spun around. The annoyance on his face took her by surprise, and her heart plummeted. Did he think she’d asked Timothy up here? “Rowdy, I—”

His glare caused her throat to close up.

While his eyes skimmed her breasts, he grabbed Timothy and gavehim a shove toward the staircase.

She flounced away. The door to her bedroom shut with a bang and Angel practically ripped the buttons off the yellow dress as she tugged them open. After lighting a lamp, and no longer concerned about cleavage, she snatched the first dress she came to—a blue one with a collar so high the lace rubbed the bottom of her chin.

The swish of the door had her spinning about.

Tight-lipped, Rowdy eyed her from head to toe.

Her emotions were a tangled web. She wanted to scream for him to get out, and at the same time beg him to understand. “I—” she started.

“Maybe if you weren’t dressed like a saloon gal that wouldn’t have happened,” he snapped.

Her ire blazed up again. “What?”

“Milner. What did you expect?”

Stunned beyond reason, she gaped at him.

“Your git-up had every unmarried man downstairs—and some married ones—drooling.” Rowdy ran a hand through his hair, mussing it, and let out a long, heavy sigh. “Damn it, Angel, don’t you know how beautiful you are? One look at you and men grow weak in the knees. They start arguing with their own common sense.”

“I—” she said again, then stopped. Concern filled his silver eyes. The tenderness she saw practically knocked the air out of her, and sent her heart dancing in her chest at the same time.

He stepped closer. “Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head, glancing at the blue dress clutched to her breasts. “I got blueberries on my gown. I had to change.”

Without taking his eyes off her, Rowdy reached behind him and closed the door.

The action ignited the demanding, sweet need inside her. Taking one step and then another, she didn’t stop until her nose practically touched his chin. Wanting him to know the truth, she whispered, “I dressed like that for you. I wanted to nudge you.”

“Nudge me?”

She nodded. “Liza said I needed to nudge you in the right direction. Into noticing me.” Liza had actually said “into realizing how much he cares,” but Angel wasn’t willing to reveal too much of what the other woman had said.

A smile flashed across his lips, but he squelched it. “Angel girl, you’ve had me hanging on the edge for the last year.”

His admission had her hopes soaring. She laid a hand on his forearm. “That gown had the lowest neckline, and Liza gave me some rouge powder—”

“I noticed.” He ran the tip of one finger along her collarbone. “Did Liza tell you that sometimes what a man can’t see is more enticing than what he can?”

Angel swayed. The blue dress fluttered to the floor, exposing her tightly tied corset, and the air grew so thick it was hard to breathe. She swallowed, searching for something to say. “I wish I’d have known that before I destroyed my closet.”

He let out a husky chuckle.

Her insides were on fire. She reached up and ran a finger along the fine line of his jaw. “I’ll remember it in the future. But right now, I have to thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“I—”

She silenced him by tilting his chin down. “Shhh,” she whispered against his lips.

The merger was slow and steady, and consumed her from head to toe. His lips were like warm honey, satisfying her hunger, while promising a more rewarding feast with every touch.

When Rowdy pulled away, she collapsed against him, licking her lips. He grasped her bare upper arms and spun her around. “Get dressed, Angel girl.”

Unwilling to let him push her away so easily this time, she leaned back against his hard, powerful chest, absorbing his heat. “Hold me, Rowdy. Just for a minute. Please.”

His hands slid beneath her arms and glided across her stomach. Her heart soared, and she closed her eyes, nestling the back of her head against his shoulder. He tightened his grasp, folding his forearms beneath her breasts. At that moment, she knew paradise.

The point of his chin ran along her the side of her neck. The touch made her moan, and she laid her hands on his arms.

“You need to get dressed.” His breath tickled her ear.

She nuzzled his cheek with her head. “Why?”

“So you can go back to your party.”

“I’d rather stay here. With you.”

His eyes went to her chest. The thin lace trim of her corset exposed how the tips of her breasts had hardened with anticipation. His intake of breath sent a wave of delight through her system. “Can’t.” His lips brushed her cheek. “You have a houseful of guests.”

She wished everyone would just disappear. Leave her and Rowdy alone. Completely alone. That wasn’t about to happen, so she asked, “Were you drooling?”

“Yes, Angel, I was drooling.” His hands roamed over her torso, gently caressing her stomach and rib cage. The tips of his thumbs brushed her nipples, making her breasts quiver and sending an intense heat to throb between her legs. “Still am,” he whispered.

Tightening her core muscles, heightening the pleasure there, she declared, “Good, because I am, too.”

He cupped her breasts, one in each wonderful palm. She arched her back, absorbing the touch fully. His lips ran along her bare shoulder before his fingers slipped down her sides to settle on her hips. “Get dressed, Angel, before we do something we shouldn’t.”

She pressed her backside against the swell of his groin. “There’s nothing we shouldn’t do, Rowdy.”

“Well, we can’t. Not right now, Angel girl.”

A second later the door opened and shut. She spun around, but he was gone. Her body, sizzling from his touch, slumped, and she sank onto the bed. The room was a mess due to her earlier dressing session. Rowdy would think she was a terrible housekeeper….

Her mind snapped into gear. Housekeeping wasn’t what she needed to be concerned with. Snatching up the blue dress, she pulled it over her head.

Brushing her hair, she took a moment to check her reflection in the large oval mirror on top of her dressing table. Her cheeks were flushed, but other than that, there were no telltale signs that her body ached with need. She had to get rid of the partygoers.

Grabbing the yellow dress, she flew to the door.

Rowdy leaned against the far wall. He grinned and nodded toward her bedroom. “You left the lamp lit.”

She backtracked, blew out the flame and then pulled the door shut as she exited again. He stepped forward, meeting her in the center of the hall.

The grin on his face made her smile. “Why did you follow me up here?” she wondered aloud.

He touched the tip of her nose. “Because you’re my responsibility.”

“Responsibility.” She mulled that over, determining it would do—for now.

He looked as if he expected her to say more. She held up the yellow dress. “I have to get this in cold water before the stains set.”

Rowdy took her arm and led her down the back stairs.

When they entered the kitchen, she paused. “Why is the house so quiet?”

“I don’t know.” He glanced toward the door that led to the front entrance, then into the parlor. “J.T. was still breaking the strings on his fiddle when I went looking for you.”

Angel moved to the doorway. Rowdy’s spicy scent, floating around her as he leaned over her shoulder to look into the far corners of the empty rooms, sent her senses whirling all over again.

She pivoted and stepped around him, stopping near the table laden with an array of food, plates, and the almost empty punch bowl she suspected Emerald, Tanna’s husband, had spiked. An excited hoot followed closely by a giggle sounded on the back porch. “Maybe they’re leaving,” she said hopefully.

Rowdy followed her. They paused at the back door, staring into the dark night. “Can you see anyone?” he asked.

A muffled, “Oh,” followed by a grunt sounded before two people stepped out of the shadows.

“We’re playing hide and seek,” Tanna said, with her arm looped through her husband’s.

“Hide and seek?” Rowdy repeated.

Angel shook her head, sighing. “It’s a parlor game.” Which meant it would have to end before she could send everyone home.

Chapter Six

“Played many parlor games, McGuire?” Emerald asked.

Frowning, Rowdy glanced at Angel. She looked about as thrilled to hear about a parlor game as he was.

Tanna moved forward, grabbing Angel’s arm. “Emerald, you tell Rowdy the rules while Angel and I hide.” Tanna pulled her down the steps.

“I have to put my dress to soaking.” Angel stopped at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes settled on Rowdy. “Before it stains.”

He stepped forward, ready to rescue her from Tanna’s grip, but the other woman wrenched the dress from Angel and plopped it into the rain barrel sitting below the eves of the porch roof. “There. It’s soaking. Come on.” She tugged Angel away so fast Rowdy couldn’t hear what she said, and Emerald grabbed his arm, stopping him from following.

“Give them a minute to hide,” he said. “The women hide and the men find them. And then…” Emerald shrugged. “You can figure out the rest.”

Rowdy lifted a brow.

Emerald, an odd name for a man with blond hair and blue eyes, laughed. “Hide and seek isn’t just for kids, McGuire.” He slapped Rowdy’s back. “Come on, I think they headed for the barn.”

Rowdy shook his legs, trying to make more room in his britches. He couldn’t take much more. The little escapade upstairs had brought him close to his breaking point. He’d been hard and throbbing since first seeing Angel’s breasts threatening to escape the yellow gown. Timothy Milner had seen them, too. The man had been drooling from the moment he walked into the house.

Seeing Milner sneaking up the front steps right after Angel had gone up the back made Rowdy feud with himself. Part of him said leave them be, that the two were suited for each other. The other part, which had him barreling up the stairs, had said… Well, he really didn’t know what it said, other than he wasn’t about to leave Milner and Angel alone.

The sky was blacker than the inside of a pot with the lid on, and Rowdy, walking beside Emerald, stumbled on something in the yard. He caught himself before the other man noticed.

Milner was an ass. Angel should refuse to marry him. She deserved a whole lot better than the likes of him. The man had no idea how to treat a lady.

Rowdy stopped walking, since the barn door stood open before him. Emerald had disappeared, but Rowdy hadn’t noticed until now. Nor had he detected the sounds of night all around—cattle mooing, the hoot of an owl, the far-off call of a coyote, the faint screech of the windmill churning in the breeze.

His back stiffened. Other sounds filtered to his ears as well. An excited but faint hoot, followed by hushed giggles. Evidently Emerald had found Tanna. Rowdy swallowed a lump the size of a coal train and walked into the barn.

What would he do when he found Angel? He sure as hell couldn’t kiss her—not with the way his loins throbbed, screaming for release. Dragging his hand through his hair, he let out a growl. The devil was probably chipping ice right now—hell had to have frozen over. Nothing was different. He was still Rowdy McGuire and she was still Angel Clayton. But the moment he’d seen Milner trying to kiss her, he’d accepted the inevitable. He was in love. And there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. Nothing changed the fact that he’d never be the refined gentleman she deserved, but right now, he would trade his soul to be such a man.

He moved into the barn and stopped near Templeton’s stall, instinctively knowing that Angel was hiding beside her horse. Rubbing the animal’s nose, Rowdy all of sudden felt as childish as the game, and whispered, “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Her giggle was so soft, so sweet, that he cracked a genuine smile. Without making a sound, he lifted the latch and shouldered past the animal. Templeton swung his head around and pushed Rowdy farther into the stall.

The space was empty, but draped on the top board was a clump of material. He picked it up. Recognizing the blue dress, he glanced over the rail. “Angel?”

The hay rustled.

Rowdy sucked in his stomach at the way his loins bucked. In a swift bound, he climbed over the wall and lowered himself onto the pile of sweet smelling hay.

“Now that you’ve found me,” she whispered, “what are you going to do with me?”

He really had no choice. Right now he had about as much control over his body as he did over a tornado. He knelt down and ran a finger along the curve of her smile. “Kiss you.”

“Mmmm. Please do,” she whispered.

The moment they connected, his lips to hers, the world exploded. The muted darkness heightened his desire, and the way her charming body responded to his touch made his hands go wild, stoking the curves of her breasts and the flatness of her stomach.

Even though they’d been separated for only a few minutes, it was like he’d been gone for a lifetime and just found his way home. Her body seemed so familiar. He knew every spot that wanted his touch. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her fingers thrust into his hair. She parted her lips and he deepened the kiss, craving the taste of her.

His body quivered as Angel’s response mirrored his. The kiss went on and on. It was as if he’d dived into a deep, rapid river and couldn’t quit swimming until he reached the other bank.

When he lifted his head, gasping for air, she arched her spine. “I can’t breathe, Rowdy. Please loosen my stays.”

He had no choice but to do what she asked. With his gentle tug, the bow came loose, and he worked his way through the crisscrossing pattern the little string made up her back.

Angel stretched, sighing. The movement forced the material to slip downward, revealing the loveliest breasts ever created. He stroked one, amazed by how his touch brought the nub to life. He kissed it, then the other one, valuing each one with deep down gratitude. His hands slid down her back, into the waistband of her pantaloons. Unexplainable pleasure seared his fingertips as they met the silky skin of her bottom.

She tugged his shirt out of his waistband. “I want you, Rowdy, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

Her whispered confession was like fuel on a fire. Heat swirled in his veins, and he stretched out on the hay, easing her flat on her back beside him. She ran her fingers under his shirt, teasing his skin with the ends of her fingernails.

He ran kisses along her shoulder, and licked her with the tip of his tongue. “Aw, Angel girl,” he whispered against her skin. “What am I going to do with you?”

She undid the last button and pushed his shirt wide. Her soft, warm lips skipped across his chest. “I told you earlier.” She suckled his skin for a moment before whispering, “Love me.”

His shaft jolted, and so did his heart. He did love her. Always would. Holding in his confession and focused on pleasing her, he trailed kisses down her neck, along the edges of the glorious mounds he’d been admiring all night, and slid a hand to her hip, then downward. Powerful pleasure shot up his arm as his palm cupped the juncture between her legs, and her hips thrust forward. Gently, his fingers swirled beneath the material of her pantaloons, teasing her.

Her body was so perfect, made for loving, and he continued to kiss and explore her breasts while his hand fondled her. When he sensed the pinnacle of her awaking desire, he entered her with one finger.

The moist heat of the connection had his entire body throbbing. She arched, encouraging his finger to go deeper. A storm of spiraling sensations overtook him. It was an excitement he’d never experienced.

Angel kissed him deeply, digging her fingernails into his chest. It was a heavenly torture. Her hips swayed with his hand, creating a steady motion that led the way to higher delights. One of her roaming hands paused near his waistband, and when it cupped his crotch, his hips bucked. She massaged him through his britches. The pleasure and sweet torment of touching and being touched continued, showering him with thrills and gratification he’d never known existed.

Her body tensed and she tightened her thighs, holding his fingers deep inside her. “Rowdy!” she gasped.

“Shh.” He kissed her deeply while stroking her core as she quaked and shuddered. His body responded, reeling with her release.

When her tremors lessened, she sank into the hay, sighing heavily. “Good Lord, Rowdy, what on earth was that?”

A pleasant mist surrounded them. The smile on his lips couldn’t begin to express the happiness dancing inside his chest. He folded both arms around her and nipped her earlobe. “That’s being loved, my Angel.”

After the air around them grew mellow and still, she whispered, “Can we do it again?”

“Not right now.”

She snuggled closer. “Why?”

“Listen,” he whispered in her ear. Laughter and conversations floated through the darkness from the yard.

Angel sighed and ran a finger along the side of his face. “Maybe they’ll all go home now.”

He pulled her to her feet and, after brushing the hay out of her hair, helped her put on the blue dress. The outside voices made repercussion of his actions pour into his mind. “Angel,” he began.

She pressed her finger to his lips. “Don’t say a word, Rowdy McGuire. Don’t you dare say a word.”

He bit his tongue and took her hand, leading her out of the barn. People mingled and talked, mainly couples walking arm in arm. He squeezed her fingers.

She stopped near the rain barrel. “I have to get my dress.”

He looked at the barrel, wondering if a good dowsing would help him. It wasn’t regret filling his system, but he wasn’t too proud of how he’d lost control.

She flashed a grin and pushed him toward the house. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Understanding her wish to be alone for a moment, since she probably regretted what had just happened, he moved to the back steps. The brightness of the kitchen lamps almost blinded him, but he blinked and strode to the table, where he promptly threw back two glasses of punch.

It was the third glass he actually tasted. Sugary-sweet, it hit the back of throat and all but made him gag. It certainly had been spiked. He set the glass down and paced the floor. What the hell was he going to do now? He’d compromised her. The one thing he’d sworn he would never do.

Chapter Seven

Angel grabbed the sopping dress. The material, heavy with water, resisted her attemps to lift it out of the rain barrel, and still teetering from Rowdy’s glorious caresses, she released it, letting it sink again.. If it was just up to her, she’d leave the dress, but Tanna never would, and Angel wanted the guests gone as soon as possible.

Her gaze went to the house. Through the open doorway, she saw Rowdy standing near the punch bowl. A smile pulled on her lips and unfathomable joy pump through her veins with every beat of her heart.

Someone hollered her name.

She flipped around, instant ire racing up her spine. Why couldn’t they all just leave?

“Where have you been?” Timothy Milner demanded.

Turning back to the rain barrel, Angel snatched the dress out with one swift movement and went to drape it over the porch rail.

“You were with him, weren’t you?”

Her backbone went stiff. “Don’t say another word, Timothy. Trust me, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m the only one who can provide you with the lifestyle you’re used to.” He grabbed her arm. “He’s a drifter, Angel, a nobody.”

Fury fueled her reaction. The smack of her hand hitting his cheek echoed through the night. People rushed toward them from all directions.

Timothy pressed a palm to his cheek. “Half the territory has asked to court you, and you’re gonna settle for him?”

“Settle for him?” She shoved Timothy backward with both hands. “Rowdy McGuire is ten times the man you’ll ever be. He’s not focused on how large my father’s bank account is. He cares about this land. He cares about the cattle.” Irritated to no end, she stepped forward and poked a finger in Timothy’s chest. “He cares about me.”

A great force overtook her, made her turn and look over her shoulder. Rowdy stood in front of the crowd. His silver eyes transfixed her. She couldn’t have looked away if she’d wanted to. The air sizzled as if a lightning storm brewed around them. Rowdy didn’t move, not even a blink of an eyelid. Neither did she. “And I love him,” she declared.

Rowdy’s expression changed. He didn’t look stunned, but he didn’t look exactly thrilled, either.

The crowd dispersed, whispering as they went. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Angel wrung her trembling fingers together as she stepped forward. “Rowdy—”

He held up a hand, stopping her from moving any closer.

“I—” she started again.

“Go in the house, Angel.” He turned and walked toward the barn.

She wanted to scream, beg him to come back, but a glimmer of sense made her stop. Now she’d done it. Liza had said Rowdy needed some nudging, but Angel had just pushed him over the edge—and watched him tumble into a deep ravine.

She clenched her jaw, forcing the tears behind her eyes to stay where they were, and twirled around. Grabbing the dress from the railing, she climbed the stairs into the house.

After she’d said goodbye to the last guest, she leaned heavily against the door, wishing there was a way to turn back time. Rowdy hadn’t returned to the house, and she didn’t expect him to. The man had pride.

Pushing away from the door, she dowsed the lamps, except for one to light the way as she trudged up the stairs to her solitary room. The wherewithal to straighten the place couldn’t be found and she plopped onto the bed.

She loved Rowdy, of that she had no doubt, and wasn’t ashamed of it, but she’d lived around men her entire life. If there was one thing they didn’t like, it was being embarrassed by a woman. A deep sigh of despair forced its way out of her lungs.

It could have been minutes or hours later when a sense of being watched made Angel turn her head toward the open doorway. Rowdy stood there, arms folded across his chest and leaning a shoulder against the door frame.

Her heart went from hanging in her chest to pounding in her throat.

“We need to talk, Angel girl.”

She leaped to her feet, plucking discarded garments off the floor. A glance over her shoulder found him standing near her dressing table, running a finger over the small container of rouge powder.

His gaze met hers. “Liza and I have never—”

“I know.” That had become the least of her worries even before Liza mentioned it. Angel tossed her armload onto the chair in the corner. “If you’ve come for an apology, you might as well leave right now.”

He frowned. “Apology?”

She let out a long sigh. It was time to lay all her cards on the table. If it was meant to be, it would be. If it wasn’t… She squared her shoulders. “I’ve hunted you. I’ve ignored you. I’ve tried to make you jealous. I’ve all but thrown myself at your feet.” Exasperated, she tossed her arms in the air. “I don’t know what else to do, Rowdy. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you tonight, but I won’t apologize for loving you.”

His silver eyes searched her face, and it happened again, the communication between their bodies. She understood it better now. Knew why her insides grew warm and excited, and her skin tingled. Her body lived for his touch as surely as her heart beat for his love.

“You could never embarrass me.” He gave his head a little shake. “You’re so beautiful, Angel girl. There’s not a man around who isn’t smitten with you.” He stepped closer and ran a knuckle across her cheek. “Are you sure you want the cowpoke under this hat?”

She nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“You’re Angel Clayton, you des—”

“I deserve you. The man I love. I’ve watched you for months, and you’re much, much more than a cowpoke. You’re a good, hardworking, honest man. You care, and you respect how treacherous life can be out here. How it all could be gone in a heartbeat.” She reached up and tugged on the brim of his hat. “Under this hat is the most handsome, amazing man I’ve ever met.” The love flowing from her heart made her throat tighten. “A man who doesn’t let anyone rule him, but he’s gentle and kind, and lets a girl have her way once in a while.”

He grinned. “Once in a while?”

She stretched up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips over his. “Yes,” she whispered, “once in a while.”

The kiss was a precious give-and-take that had her toes curling and her heart singing. When she lifted her face, she met his gaze boldly. “I love you, Rowdy McGuire, and I want the world to know it.”

Chapter Eight

Every single reason why he couldn’t marry Angel Clayton was gone. Rowdy couldn’t have remembered one if his life depended on it—which in a way it did. He couldn’t live without her. “I’ve tried,” he admitted, “but I can’t fight it anymore, Angel girl.”

“Fight what?” She cupped his cheek.

He twirled a curl of her hair around his finger. “You. Me. I don’t even remember why I was fighting. It was useless. A minute doesn’t go by without me thinking about you. Without me wanting you.”

An adorable, somewhat smug smile grew on her lips. “You want me?”

“You know I do.”

“I want you, too.” Her fingertips walked down the front of his shirt.

“Haven’t I told you that I always get what I want?”

He chuckled, and pulled her against him, running his hands along the delicate curve of her lower back. “Yes, more than once.”

She laid her head on his chest. “I’ll go anywhere. I’ll live anywhere you want.”

His chest swelled, yet he questioned her statement. “You’d leave Heaven on Earth?”

“The ranch, yes.” She lifted her head. “Rowdy, heaven on earth isn’t a place, it’s a feeling.”

He knew. It was what he felt for Angel. He’d rather spend one day married to her than a lifetime not, but he felt inclined to explain, “I don’t have much to offer you right now, Angel. Not what you deserve, but—”

She pressed a finger to his lips. “I deserve happiness. You deserve happiness.” Her expression grew unsure. “I found heaven on earth in your arms, Rowdy. But I don’t want it if it’s not what you want, too.”

A gush of emotions washed over him like a spring flood. He gazed directly into those big brown eyes so she wouldn’t have any doubt. “I want it. You’re my heaven on earth, Angel. I love you.” He framed her face with his hands. “I’ve loved you for some time. I was just too stubborn to admit it.”

She giggled. “That, I’ll agree with. The man under this hat is a bit stubborn. But that’s all right. I can be a bit stubborn, too.”

“A bit?”

“That’s what I’ve been told.” She stretched onto her toes once more, bringing her lips close to his. “Kiss me, Rowdy.”

He touched the tip of her nose with his. “You sure are demanding, aren’t you?”

“Yep, and you like it.”

“Yes, I do. I like every little bossy bone in your body.” While desire, and love, threatened to strangle him, he kissed her with all the deep-down emotions erupting in his soul.

Her breasts bore into his chest, igniting months of craving into a burning inferno. Holding her tight and kissing her deeply weren’t enough. Moments before his willpower gave out Rowdy broke the kiss. Chest heaving, he set her a few inches away, so he could say his piece. “Angel Clayton, will you marry me?”

She squealed and jumped, landing in his arms. Her hands wound around his neck while her legs wrapped around his waist. “Yes!” she shouted. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.”

He caught her lips, kissing her thoroughly.

She wiggled in his arms, rubbing her feminine body deeply against him. Planting little kisses on his jaw, she asked, “When?”

The fire in his loins increased tenfold from her enthusiasm. Yet he had other responsibilities to uphold. “I need to ask your father’s permission first.”

She kissed Rowdy’s lips and then leaned back, gazing at him with serious eyes. “You have it. Years ago, when my father married Constance, he asked for my permission. I told him he didn’t need my permission any more than I’d need his when the day came for me to wed. He agreed. He trusts me and my judgments. Besides, he’d never have left you alone with me if you didn’t already have his permission.”

Rowdy grinned. He’d accepted that while pacing the path between the house and bunkhouse for an hour. Ellis Clayton was nobody’s fool. The man knew exactly what he was doing when he took his little trip across the ocean. The knowledge that the rancher thought so highly of him touched Rowdy deeply. Pride that Ellis felt he was good enough for Angel was part of it, but disappointment was there, too. He couldn’t fully show Angel how much he loved her until after her father returned.

She looked at him with a perplexed expression. He kissed her nose. “We’ll get married as soon as your folks get home.”

Her jaw dropped. “What?”

She was so adorable. After a quick kiss, he set her on her feet. As hard as it was, he let her loose and turned for the door.

She caught his arm. “Where are you going?”

The answer was in the back of his mind, but he had a hard time pulling it forward. “It’s late.”

Flying around to stand between him and the door, she planted her hands on her hips. “I know it’s late, but if you think you’re leaving this room, you better think again.”

He cracked a smile. She did deserve him. Only someone as hardheaded as he was would be able to keep her in line.

She ran a finger down the row of buttons on his shirt. “You just told me you love me, and asked me to marry you.”

He covered her hand with his. “And that’s why I’m leaving.”

Her other hand slipped around his neck and pulled his head down. “Rowdy,” she said huskily. “I always get what I want.” Her lips teased his, never stopping long enough for him to catch them. “And right now, I want you.”

Fire exploded inside him. His lips found hers, and the passion heating his blood drove the kiss to an incredible summit. Her body cried out for his, and denying her got harder every second.

Gasping for air, he lifted his head and realized he’d pressed her against the wall.

Her eyes sparkled as she gazed at him. “Take me to bed, Rowdy.”

He dug deep into his conscience. Slowly, thoughtfully, he lowered his face to hers. This was one battle he’d choose to lose. Just this once.

One kiss led to another, and another, and then Rowdy fully gave in to his decision. It was as if they couldn’t get enough of each other, couldn’t move fast enough. The mess she’d made while dressing for the party was nothing compared to what the two of them created. He wasn’t sure if they were his underdrawers or hers hanging from the curtain rod; all he got was a quick glimpse of white as he and Angel tumbled onto the bed, laughing and kissing, and touching one another.

The taste of her naked skin was intoxicating. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured, kissing her shoulder and arm.

Her hand fluttered across his chest. The touch left an intoxicating trail of heat. “I love you, Rowdy, more than you can imagine.”

Her words, earnest and soft, made his heart double in size. “I can imagine, darling, for it’s the same for me.” As his gaze wandered over the beautiful curves of her naked form, every last doubt and insecurity disappeared. She was his Angel, always would be.

Chapter Nine

The room was a blur. All Angel could see was Rowdy’s handsome face and the silver-toned eyes showering her with pure, unabated love. He lifted her arm, kissing it from wrist to shoulder. Her heart sang with joy and her body tingled with excitement.

He nuzzled her neck, and her vision returned slowly. She couldn’t suppress the giggle that escaped her lips. Her bloomers hung from the curtain rod. Other articles of clothing, both his and hers, were strewn about. A stampede of steers couldn’t have created more of a mess. Between his shirt and her dress, there were at least a dozen buttons that would need to be replaced.

Their hurried undressing hadn’t provided her the time to appreciate the sight being unveiled, so she did so now. Stretched out next to her, lying on his side, with one of his sleek, lean legs draped across her knees, was the most stunning man alive. The warmth pooling in her core boiled over with anticipation.

She brought her gaze up to meet his. His kiss was deep and long, and left her drowning in the growing, intense desire consuming her. She needed the fulfillment only he could provide. “Rowdy,” she whispered.

Nibbling on her earlobe, a spot she’d never known was so sensitive, he mumbled, “Hmmm?”

She’d waited for this moment for so long, had dreamed about it so often, but a touch of apprehension wouldn’t leave her mind. “I’m not sure what to do.”

He propped himself on an elbow and looked at her tenderly.

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” she admitted.

“Darling, you could never disappoint me.” His fingertip trailed down the side of her face and along her shoulder. “Just be yourself, Angel girl,” he whispered. “And if something frightens you, or makes you uncomfortable, tell me.”

She nodded, still apprehensive. It was odd. She’d never been overly shy in her life, especially not a short time ago, while ripping off his clothes, so why now?

Rowdy’s lips caressed the side of her face, and she shut her eyes in pleasure. “Do you trust me, Angel?” he asked against her cheek.

“Of course I do, Rowdy.”

“Then trust me now, darling. Neither of us is going to be disappointed.”

She turned and her lips met his. The enthusiasm and thrill that had enticed her to tear off his clothes returned twofold. She stroked his hot, supple skin as he feasted on her mouth. His tongue parted her lips, and willing, ready, for whatever was to come, she met his kiss wholeheartedly. The intense stimulation she felt left her breathless and energetic at the same time.

Rowdy’s lips slipped from hers, finding her breasts. She hugged his head as he licked and teased. The rapture was indescribable, and she wanted it to go on forever.

Once he started, it seemed Rowdy wouldn’t stop until he’d tasted every inch of her body, and she loved it. His lips teased and his hands fondled everything from her breasts and stomach to the inside of her elbows and the backs of her knees. She moaned and twisted, welcoming every new touch. Whenever his face came close to hers, an overwhelming desire made her devour his lips until she was unable to catch her breath. It was after one of those profound kisses, while she was gasping for air, that his mouth left a teasing trail down her torso and settled between her legs.

Fire shot up her body. “Rowdy!” she gasped.

He lifted her bottom, cupping her hips in his hands. Her last ounce of anxiety dissolved. Wanting to experience every touch, she spread her legs wider. The intense heat of his mouth sent her skyward. The powerful energy building within her had her reeling. Her hips bucked, keeping in rhythm with the storm he created.

She was on the brink of explosion when he rose to position himself over her. Radiant, glowing inside and out with uninhabited enthusiasm, she met his gaze. “Now, Rowdy?” she asked, anxious for more.

“Yes, Angel, now.”

It was as if he’d promised her the world. The smile on her face reached all the way to her toes, and she bit her lip, anticipating the moment.

His entrance was tender, and his first thrust gentle as he breached her virgin barrier. She flinched at the quick flash of pain, but then wrapped her legs around his thighs and arched, accepting the solid, full length of him. He slid out and in again, coaxing her to open and close around him, gaining speed gradually. It was the most glorious feeling she’d ever encountered.

His hot, muscled skin flowed beneath her fingers, and her breasts connected blissfully with his chest as every thrust brought them deeper together.

Their gazes locked and she whispered, “I never imagined loving you would be so beautiful. You make me feel as if I’m flying through the clouds.”

“Are you ready to go to heaven on earth?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” she readily agreed.

He increased his speed, bringing her with him, and with an explosion of joint power, they merged abundantly, neither holding anything back. The world opened up as they soared beyond any imaginary human boundary. When they reached their destination, Angel dug her fingers into his back. “Rowdy!”

His body arched, and with his hands firmly gripping her hips, he gave a deep thrust. Angel barely comprehended the colossal impact as she accepted his ultimate gift of love. The shattering act left her trembling from head to toe, exhausted and elated.

The room spun as she spiraled back to reality. Angel repeated his name over and over as she clung to him, peppering his shoulders and neck with kisses and relishing his love, until she sank deep into the mattress.

Some time later, as he held her tight against his side, she asked, “Will you take me there again, Rowdy? To heaven on earth? It’s a beautiful, wonderful place.”

He kissed her temple. “Yes, it is, and yes, I’ll take you there again.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Angel.” Then he gave her one of his saucy winks. “As soon as your father returns and gives us his blessing.”

Epilogue

Despite her pleas and demands, Rowdy didn’t give in. If possible, his willpower made her love him even more, along with the way he made the waiting a tad more bearable by showering her with loving touches and profound kisses. Hard work helped, too. She spent days cleaning and refurbishing the log cabin for them to live in after the ceremony, and evenings creating the most beautiful wedding gown Wyoming had ever seen. It had a modest neckline. What was beneath was for her husband’s eyes only.

When their wedding day finally arrived, she sat in the small room off the back of the church, waiting for the guests to take their seats.

Her father walked in. “Are you ready?”

She leaped to her feet. “Yes.” Fluffing the layers of lace floating to the floor, she slowly raised her gaze. “How’d you know, Pa? How’d you know I loved Rowdy?”

His eyes grew soft and misty. “It takes someone deep in love to see it in another.” He kissed her cheek. “You look at Rowdy like Constance looks at me.”

Angel didn’t think she could get any happier, but somehow her heart grew.

“Let’s go. Rowdy’s waiting,” Ellis whispered.

Angel kissed her father’s cheek when he handed her to Rowdy at the front of the church. She shed a tear or two while pledging her love, and even more when Rowdy vowed to love her forever. After the last words were spoken, he bestowed a long, promising kiss on her lips.

When he lifted his face, he winked at her. “I love you, Angel girl,” he said, and then scooped her into his arms.

Laughing out loud, she looped her arms around his neck as he carried her past the rows of people clapping and whooping, and out the front door of the church.

Rowdy’s gaze was as bright and sparkling as the summer sun overhead. Her heart threatened to burst. He walked straight to a buggy covered with crepe paper and bearing a Just Married sign between the two back wheels, and set her on the front seat.

Giggling, she kissed his cheek when he’d climbed in beside her. “I feel sorry for anyone who’s not me right now,” she whispered.

He kissed her lips as he flicked the reins over the horse’s back. “I know the feeling, Angel girl, I know the feeling.”

If you liked this story by Lauri Robinson, don’t miss her debut Harlequin Historical UNDONE story Wedding Night with the Ranger, on sale now wherever ebooks are sold!

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Texas Ranger-turned-rancher Colt Severson received plenty of advice on how to handle his wife on their wedding night—but not on what to do if she pointed a shotgun at him!

For Annalee Sapp, becoming Colt’s bride was both a nightmare and a dream come true. The handsome rancher was the perfect husband, if only he hadn’t been tricked into marrying her! He’d be stunned to learn of all the scandalous thoughts she had about him….. But once their wedding night arrives, it’s only a matter of time before their passion explodes…and the truth about their impulsive marriage is revealed!

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Lauri Robinson’s chosen genre to write is western historical. When asked why, she says, “Because I know I wasn’t the only girl who wanted to grow up and marry Little Joe Cartwright.”

With a degree in early childhood education, Lauri has spent decades working in the non-profit field and claims once upon a time and happily ever after romance novels have always been a form of stress relief. When her husband suggested she write one, she took the challenge and has loved every minute of the journey.

Lauri lives in rural Minnesota where she and her husband spend every spare moment with their three grown sons and four grandchildren. She works part time, volunteers for several organizations, and is a diehard Elvis and NASCAR fan. Her favorite getaway location is the woods of northern Minnesota on the land homesteaded by her great-grandfather.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-5297-8

Her Midnight Cowboy

Copyright © 2010 by Lauri Robinson

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