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The Last Cowboy Standing
Barbara Dunlop
Rope ’em. Ride ’em. Wed ’em? With his family pressuring him to settle down, Travis Jacobs hightails it to the rodeo for a no-strings fling. But the bull rider never expected to bump into Danielle Marin. The pretty lawyer once rebuffed his flirtations. Now, however, she looks ready for a little fun. Danielle knows getting involved with a rogue like Travis will only lead to heartache. Her career in question, she should be thinking with her head, not the heat of their kisses. But when all roads lead back to Colorado—and Travis—resistance is futile. Will she finally manage to lasso the last cowboy standing?
“Instinctively, I want to kiss you. But I’ve had that particular instinct for a long time now, and I’m not sure I should trust it.”
Danielle smiled. “You should trust it.”
His hands moved to her face, cradling it gently in his palms. “What about my other instincts?”
“You have other instincts?”
“To toss you down on the grass and ravish you in the moonlight.”
Want and need instantly cascaded through her, robbing her of her breath. She wished it didn’t sound so tempting. There were a million complicated reasons to keep her distance from Travis, even if her own desires were screaming at her to ignore them.
She came up on her toes to meet him. “Let’s take it one instinct at a time.”
* * *
The Last Cowboy Standing is part of the Colorado Cattle Barons series from USA TODAY bestselling author Barbara Dunlop!
The Last
Cowboy Standing
Barbara Dunlop
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
BARBARA DUNLOP writes romantic stories while curled up in a log cabin in Canada’s far north, where bears outnumber people and it snows six months of the year. Fortunately she has a brawny husband and two teenage children to haul firewood and clear the driveway while she sips cocoa and muses about her upcoming chapters. Barbara loves to hear from readers. You can contact her through her website, www.barbaradunlop.com (http://www.barbaradunlop.com).
To my mother, with love.
Contents
Chapter One (#ua874e662-c24c-5e3b-818e-e34d8fff2e52)
Chapter Two (#u304e8ac4-1dda-5db7-922c-37393be3d9dd)
Chapter Three (#ud78be863-07ab-535e-b6fe-57f3c90e4824)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
One
Travis Jacobs could do anything for eight seconds. At least, that’s what he told himself every time he climbed up the side of a bull chute. Tonight’s Vegas crowd was loud and enthusiastic, their attention centered on the current rider being bucked around the arena by Devil’s Draw.
Putting the other cowboys in the competition from his mind, he looked at Esquire below him, checking for any sign of agitation. Then he rolled his cuffs up a couple of turns, pulled his brown Stetson low and tugged a worn, leather glove onto his right hand.
The crowd groaned in sympathy a mere second before the horn sounded, telling Travis that Buckwheat Dawson had come off the bull. Up next, Travis swung his leg over the chute rail and drew a bracing breath. While Karl Schmitty held the rope, he adjusted the rigging and wrapped his hand. Wasting no time, he slid up square on the bull and gave a sharp nod to the gate operator.
The chute opened, and all four of Esquire’s feet instantly left the ground. The Brahma shot out into the arena then straight up in the air under the bright lights. The crowd roared its pleasure as the black bull twisted left, hind feet reaching high, while Travis leaned back, spurred, his arm up, muscles pumped, fighting for all he was worth to keep himself square on the animal’s back.
Esquire turned right, twisting beneath Travis, shaking him as if he was a bothersome gnat. Three seconds turned to four. Travis’s hand burned against the rope, and his wrist felt like it was about to dislocate. The strain sent a branching iron along his spine, but he also felt completely and totally alive. For a brief space of time, life was reduced to its essence. Nothing mattered but the battle between Travis and the bull.
Esquire made an abrupt left turn, nearly unseating Travis, but he kept his form. His hat flew off into the dust. The blaring music and the roar of the crowd disappeared, obliterated by the pulse of blood pumping past his ears.
The horn sounded just before Esquire made one final leap, unseating Travis, sending him catapulting through the air. Travis summersaulted, grazing the bull’s left horn, quickly twisting his body to avoid hitting the ground head-on. His shoulder came down first, with his back taking the brunt of the impact. As the air whooshed out of his lungs, a face in the crowd danced before his eyes.
Danielle? What the heck was Danielle doing in Vegas?
Then Esquire’s menacing form filled his vision, and he leaped to his feet. Corey Samson, one of the bullfighters, jumped between them, distracting the animal while Travis sprinted to the fence.
Glancing back, he realized Danielle had to be a figment of his imagination. The crowd was nowhere near close enough for him to recognize a particular face. He heaved himself over the top of the fence and jumped to the ground on the other side.
“Nice one.” Buckwheat clapped him good-naturedly on the back.
“Hey, Travis,” Corey yelled from inside the arena.
Travis turned to see Corey toss him his hat. He caught the Stetson in midair, and Corey gave him a thumbs-up.
“Ninety-one point three,” the announcer cried into the sound system.
The crowd roared louder, while lasers and colored spotlights circled the arena, the music coming up once more. Travis was the night’s last rider, meaning he’d just won ten thousand dollars.
He stuffed his hat on his head and vaulted back over the fence onto the thick dirt, waving to the crowd and accepting the congratulations of the clowns and cowboys.
“You have got to go pro,” Corey shouted in his ear.
“Just blowin’ off some steam,” Travis responded, keeping his grin firmly in place for the spectators, knowing he’d be projected onto the Jumbotron.
His older brother, Seth, had recently been married, and he’d committed his next three years to working on the Lyndon Valley railway project. Responsibility for the family’s Colorado cattle ranch now rested completely on Travis’s shoulders. Faced with that looming reality, he’d discovered he had a few wild oats left to sow.
“You could make a lot of money on the circuit,” said Corey.
Travis let himself fantasize for a minute about going on the road as a professional bull rider. The image was tantalizing—to be footloose and fancy free, no cattle to tend, no ranch hands, no bills, no responsibilities. He’d ride a couple of times a week, hit the clubs, meet friendly women. There were no bleak, dusty, hick towns on this particular rodeo circuit. It was all bright lights and five-star hotels.
For a moment, he resented the lost opportunity. But he forcibly swallowed his own frustration. If he’d wanted to be a bull rider, he should have spoken up before now. While his brother and sisters were all choosing their own life paths, Travis should have said something about leaving the ranch. But it was too late. He was the last Jacobs cowboy, and somebody had to run the place.
A small crowd had gathered in the middle of the arena to celebrate his win. He unzipped his flak jacket to circulate a little air. Then he accepted the prize buckle and the check from the event manager and gave a final wave of his hat to the crowd.
Mind still mulling what might have been, he turned and fell into step beside Corey, their boots puffing up dust as they moved toward the gate.
“How long have you been on the road?” he found himself asking the bullfighter.
“Nearly ten years now,” Corey responded. “Started when I was seventeen.”
“You ever get tired of it?”
“What’s to get tired? The excitement? The adventure? The women?”
Travis stuffed the check in his shirt pocket. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know. When I get tired of the wheels turning, I go back to the folks’ place in New Mexico for a while.”
“Ever tempted to stay there?” Travis was trying to reassure himself that life on the road got old, that all men eventually wanted a real home.
Corey shook his head. “Nope. Though, last trip home, there was this pretty red-haired gal living down the road.”
Travis chuckled at the yearning expression on Corey’s face. “I take it she’s calling you back to New Mexico?”
“Not yet, but likely soon. She’s got some kind of a bullfighter fantasy going on inside that head of hers, and she’s decided I’m the fire she wants to play with.”
Travis burst out laughing.
Corey grinned and cocked an eyebrow.
“No pretty women calling me back to my hometown.” There was nothing calling to Travis except cattle and horses.
Though, for some reason, his thoughts moved back to Danielle. But she wasn’t from his hometown, and she sure wasn’t any young innocent. She was twenty-eight, only a year younger than Travis. She was a graduate of Harvard Law, a practicing lawyer and probably the smartest, most sophisticated woman he’d ever met. She also flat out refused to give him the time of day.
“Think of that as another reason to go on the road,” Corey countered.
“I’m on the road right now,” said Travis. There wasn’t a reason in the world he couldn’t be footloose for the next few days. He’d earned it, and he had a check in his pocket just itching to get spent.
“That you are.” Corey clapped him on the back. “Let’s hit the clubs and show off that new buckle of yours. I bet there are dozens of gorgeous ladies out there just dying to hear how you rode the bull a full eight seconds, and how I saved your life in the arena.”
“Is that how you’re going to play it? That you saved my life?”
“Damn straight,” said Corey.
* * *
There were two men in the world Danielle Marin wanted to avoid. Unfortunately, both of them had turned up in Vegas.
She was attending an international law conference, so she’d been on alert for Randal Kleinfeld. It seemed likely the wunderkind D.C. attorney would show up for a lecture by his university mentor Stan Sterling. But Travis Jacobs had come out of left field, literally.
She’d been blindsided when the announcer called his name at the bull riding show, then mesmerized when the bucking bull burst from the chute. Travis made it look effortless, as if he’d been born on the back of a Brahma. That he’d won should have come as no surprise to her. When it came to all things ranching and rough stock, Travis was a master. Stone-faced and rugged, tough and no-nonsense, he was the absolute antithesis of the smooth-talking, urbane Randal.
Show over, and back at the conference hotel with her friends, Danielle couldn’t help but ponder the differences between the two men. Travis sticking in her mind, she took a bracing swallow of her vodka martini.
“That’s the spirit, Dani,” called Astra Lindy from across the table, raising her cosmo in a mock toast.
“I told you it would be fun,” said Nadine Beckman as she accepted a frozen Bellini from their waitress.
The four women were less than a mile from the bull riding arena, relaxing in the lobby lounge. The temperature was mid-seventies, a light breeze blowing in from the hotel pool and the gardens.
“It was a blast,” Odette Gray agreed with an enthusiastic nod. “Cowboys have the sexiest butts.” She’d gone with a light beer.
The other two women laughed. Danielle smiled, keeping her expression lighthearted, even as she called up a mental image of Travis walking away. It simply wasn’t fair. How could so much sexiness be wrapped up in such an exasperating man? And what kind of character flaw made her want him?
She took another healthy sip of her drink, regretting that she’d let her three friends talk her into the bull riding excursion. It had seemed like a harmless diversion after a full day of conference topics like Comparative Legal Systems and Cross Border Taxation. And it should have been a harmless diversion. Who could have predicted that Travis Jacobs would choose this week to leave Lyndon Valley and show up in Vegas?
“I’d do a cowboy,” Nadine brazenly declared.
“In a heartbeat,” Odette agreed.
“Up close, they’re dusty and crude,” Danielle pointed out, speaking to herself as much as to the other women. “They talk slow, use short sentences, very small words.”
“Crude can be sexy,” said Nadine. “And the dust washes off.”
Sadly, deep down in her secret heart of hearts, Danielle agreed. She’d once seen Travis after he’d cleaned up. The result had made her gasp for breath, and put her libido into overdrive.
“Dani knows cowboys,” said Astra. “She spends a lot of time in Colorado.”
“I wouldn’t call it a lot of time,” Danielle corrected.
Truth was, she avoided Lyndon Valley as much as possible. The Jacobs spread was right next to the Terrell ranch. And Caleb Terrell was one of her major clients. He lived in Lyndon Valley only part-time, so she could usually arrange to put in her hours for Active Equipment at his Chicago head office or at her own law office on the Chicago River.
“Caleb’s a cowboy,” said Astra. “He doesn’t use small words.”
“I was generalizing,” Danielle admitted.
On a night like tonight, she needed to take every opportunity to remind herself there was a world of difference between her and Travis Jacobs. She was closer to Randal in background, values, temperament and, of course, profession.
She’d dated Randal in law school, breaking up with him at graduation when he secured a prime internship in D.C. and she had accepted the offer in Chicago. He’d wanted to stay together, but she knew it wouldn’t work out. Long-distance relationships never did. Plus, she hadn’t been convinced he was the one. He was close, and she couldn’t exactly say what was missing. But her instincts had told her to end it.
Randal had not been happy with the split. Not that he had anything to complain about the way things turned out. He was rising fast on the D.C. legal scene. The firm he worked for, Nester and Hedley, had clients that included senators, congressmen and captains of international industry. Danielle’s Chicago job was bush-league by comparison.
Which made it strange that a partner from Nester and Hedley had contacted her last week, making her an offer that was all but impossible to refuse. She could only assume Randal had a hand in it, and she didn’t know whether to thank him or berate him.
The job would give her a chance to build toward an equity partnership in a prestigious, cutting-edge firm. Any lawyer would jump at that. But she didn’t want to be beholden to Randal. And she didn’t want to date him again. Maybe she was being ridiculously conceited, but she couldn’t help but wonder if that would turn out to be part of the package.
“Good evening, ladies,” drawled a male voice.
She glanced up to see a vaguely familiar man in a black cowboy hat, a blue-and-green Western shirt and faded blue jeans. A split second later, she caught sight of Travis slightly behind him, worn Stetson low on his brow, face tanned brown, a challenging glint in his cobalt eyes.
She was honestly too tired for this.
“Are you from the rodeo?” asked Nadine, glancing from one to the other.
“We are,” the stranger answered.
Astra pointed to Travis. “He’s the guy who won, isn’t he?”
“Are you a bull rider, too?” Nadine chirped to the other man.
“I’m a bullfighter.”
“So, one of the clowns?” she asked.
“There’s a big difference between a clown and a bullfighter, ma’am. For example.” He jabbed this thumb toward Travis. “I saved this guy’s life tonight.”
“I saw that,” Odette put in knowingly.
“Nice buckle.” Nadine had turned her attention and her brilliant smile to Travis. She reached out and touched the shiny, gold and silver prize at his waist.
Danielle couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the bling. Really? He had to wear it?
“This is Travis Jacobs,” the stranger introduced, removing his hat. “He’s tonight’s bull riding champion. And I’m Corey Samson, bullfighter extraordinaire.”
“Did he really save your life?” Odette asked Travis on a note of awe. Danielle knew the question was more about flirting than any true amazement at Corey’s feat.
Corey looked to Travis and waited.
“He most certainly did,” Travis acknowledged staunchly. “Bullfighters are highly skilled, highly trained, and among the bravest men on the planet.”
The word wingman flitted through Danielle’s brain. Travis was trying to help his friend pick up Odette.
Nadine turned to her. “That wasn’t short sentences and small words.”
Travis’s challenging gaze turned on Danielle. It was clear he remembered her using that particular phrase in the past.
“It was a generalization,” she repeated, refusing to break eye contact with him.
“That’s very impressive,” Odette told Corey with an almost comical flutter of her eyelashes.
“Danielle is continuously unequivocal in her elevated specifications for interactive discourse,” said Travis, keeping his expression completely neutral.
“How does he know your name?” Astrid immediately demanded.
“We met in Colorado,” said Travis.
“Briefly,” Danielle pointed out.
“Dance?” Corey asked Odette.
“Love to.” She giggled as she came to her feet.
“Dance?” Travis asked Danielle.
“Too busy with my drink,” she responded airily, lifting her long-stemmed glass.
“I’ll dance with you,” Nadine chimed in with obvious enthusiasm, holding out a hand.
“Ma’am,” Travis answered her, gallantly tipping his hat, taking her hand and helping her to her feet.
“You know a real live bull riding champion?” Astrid asked Danielle as the two couples left the covered deck for the dance floor inside, and Danielle concentrated on not looking at Travis’s rear end.
“He’s not a champion.” Danielle went ahead and finished off the martini. “He only does it as a hobby.”
“He’s pretty good.”
“That’s what happens when you spend your entire life on a ranch in Lyndon Valley.”
Astrid seemed confused by Danielle’s tone. “You hold that against him?”
“What I hold against him is that he’s annoying and incredibly full of himself. To hear him talk, differentiating between a Hereford and a Black Angus is the only knowledge relevant to mankind.”
Astrid was obviously fighting a grin. “Did you mix the two up?”
Danielle sighed. “They do look a lot alike.”
Astrid chuckled.
“He mocks me,” Danielle elaborated. “All the time, on every level. And we only ever see each other at the ranch, so I’m always out of my element, and he has the advantage.”
“You’re a Harvard graduate.”
“I know.”
“You shouldn’t let him get to you.”
“I don’t.”
“I can tell.”
Danielle regrouped. “It’s just that his frame of reference is so different than mine.”
“And that ticks you off.”
“What ticks me off, is that he’s such a snob about it. I’m intelligent. I’m hard-working. People respect me, even other cowboys. Caleb and Reed are perfectly fine with me.”
Astrid nodded toward the dance floor. “Looks like he’s getting along fine with Nadine.”
Danielle couldn’t help a reflexive glance at the couple as they danced together. “Nadine has probably been blinded by the shine off that enormous belt buckle.”
“She always was attracted to winners.”
Danielle couldn’t help but take note of Travis’s hand on the small of Nadine’s back, her touch on his shoulder, the animated smile on his face, and the way she was chattering on to him. He twirled her around, and she laughed as he pulled her back, holding her even closer against him as they swayed to the music.
Danielle couldn’t seem to stop a reflexive shimmer of sexual awareness from flashing through her belly. She pictured herself dancing with Travis. Then abruptly shook the image away.
“What’s that?” asked Astrid.
“What?”
“You’re blushing,” Astrid accused.
“I am not.”
“You got the hots for the bull rider.”
“Not even a little bit.”
“I think a little bit. I think more than a little bit.”
“I’m ignoring it,” Danielle declared, lifting her martini glass only to find it empty. She glanced around for the waitress. “I’m using intellect and reason to counteract inappropriate infatuation.”
“You should dance with him,” said Astrid.
“Not on your life.”
“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”
“I’m sure not doing anything tonight that I have to leave in Vegas.”
“I’m talking about dancing. What is it you have in mind?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
She and Travis had come close to...well, close to something a couple of years back when he’d rescued her from a derelict barn. He’d mostly been amused, and she’d mostly been angry. But after they got back to his ranch house, and she’d showered and borrowed one of his sister’s robes, there’d been a moment, a very long moment, when he’d look like he wanted to kiss her.
Her desire for that kiss had been so strong that it frightened her. She’d reacted defensively, uttering some patently untrue and hurtful remark. It had worked. He’d backed off. But it had also made him angry, and their relationship had never recovered.
* * *
“I see your drink is empty,” Travis couldn’t help saying to Danielle as he escorted Nadine to their table. He raised his brow in a question.
“That’s your cue to dance with him.” The woman called Astrid nudged Danielle with her elbow.
It was her cue to dance with him. Although he fully expected her to shoot him down, he had to take the chance. Danielle was in front of him, and he wanted to touch her. It was as simple as that.
Nadine dropped into her chair at the table, crossing her shapely legs and taking a drink of something frozen and orange. “Go for it, Danielle,” she breathed. “The band’s great.”
Danielle shook her head. “I’m not—” But then she stopped. Her eyes went wide, and she focused on a spot behind his shoulder. “Sure.” She rose to her feet. “Why not?”
Travis glanced behind him, finding a smartly dressed man in his late twenties. He was clean-shaven. His light brown hair was slicked back, slightly shiny, neat around the ears. He wore an expensive, pin-striped suit, with a white dress shirt and a purple tie. The handkerchief in his pocket matched the tie, and his gaze was intent on Danielle.
“Dani,” he opened with a dazzling, white smile.
“Sorry, Randal,” she spoke breezily, linking her arm with Travis’s. “Just about to dance.” She all but dragged Travis toward the dance floor.
“What was that?” Travis asked, as he turned her into his arms.
“What was what?” she asked, all wide-eyed innocence.
“What was up with the guy back there?” He settled a hand on the small of her back.
“Nothing.” She took a breath, placed her hand on his shoulder and stepped into the smooth jazz music.
She felt so good in his arms that he almost let her get away with it. The dance floor was crowded. The breeze from the open window ruffled her hair. Man, she was beautiful.
But he was too curious to let it drop. “You were about to turn me down. Don’t pretend you weren’t. Then that guy showed up, and you changed your mind.”
Danielle gave her short, brown hair a little toss. It was soft and trendy, long across her eyes, wispy at her neck. “I didn’t expect to see you in Vegas.”
The longer he held her in his arms, the less he cared about the other guy. “Is that your way of telling me he’s none of my business?”
“He is none of your business. But that’s my way of telling you I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Okay by me.”
“Thank you.” There was an edge of sarcasm to her voice.
Travis was used to that. “I didn’t expect to see you in Vegas, either.”
“I’m attending an international law conference.”
“Interesting?”
“It is if you like international law.”
“Not exactly my forte.”
“That’s true, isn’t it?”
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because, you’re in my world now, cowboy.”
He didn’t exactly know what she meant by that. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to pursue it, either, since it would likely mean they’d end up arguing. The way he saw it, Vegas was as much his world as hers.
“You saw me ride?” he asked instead.
“The girls dragged me along.” She paused. “Bull riding is not exactly my sport of choice.”
He wasn’t about to take offense. He’d have been shocked speechless if she’d confessed to a secret love of bull riding. “Where were you sitting?”
She pulled back to look at him, her gaze quizzical. “Why?”
He wanted to know if he could have possibly seen her after his fall, but he wasn’t about to explain that to her. “I wondered if you had a good view.”
“Fourth row, across from the chutes.”
“Good seats.” He could have glimpsed her on the way down, maybe filed her image away in his subconscious and brought it up when he hit the dirt. It was possible.
She frowned. “I’m not sure being closer makes it any better.”
“Are you trying to pick a fight?”
She hesitated almost imperceptibly. “We never seem to have to try.”
Travis’s skin prickled in warning, and he glanced around the room, catching the glare of the man who’d approached Danielle at the table. “Who is that guy?”
“I thought we’d moved on.”
They might have moved on, but the other man obviously hadn’t.
“Are you dating him or something?” Travis asked.
“No.”
“No to dating him, or no to or something.”
She drew her arms from him. “This was a bad idea. I’m going back to the table now.”
“He’s waiting for you.”
She reflexively turned her head, but Travis stopped her with a gentle palm on her cheek. “Don’t look.”
She stilled.
“He’s staring daggers into me. If I’m gonna have to fight, you’d better warn me now.”
She gave a weary smile and a small shake of her head. “Nobody’s fighting.”
Travis gathered her back into his arms, and she picked up the rhythm again. His body gave a subconscious sigh, and he drew her closer this time, her chest brushing his, thighs meeting as they moved. She was exactly the right size, exactly the right shape. She fit perfectly into his arms.
“I’m pretty sure I can take him,” he mused, breathing in the fresh fragrance of her hair.
“His name is Randal Kleinfeld. I knew him in law school.”
“In the biblical sense?”
She tipped her head back, dark eyes chastising him. “You are insufferably rude, you know that?”
Travis might be rude, but Randal was intensely possessive. Not that Travis blamed him. Even he could see that Danielle was a gem, a beautiful, sensuous, fiery gem of a woman. And for the right man, there’d be no looking back.
“Did you date him, Danielle?”
“It’s business, Travis. He wants to talk to me about a job. With his firm. They’ve made me an offer to move to D.C.”
Travis didn’t like the sound of that. If she switched firms, she would also switch clients. She might never come back to Lyndon Valley on business with Caleb.
He tried to tell himself it didn’t matter. They’d seen each other maybe a dozen times in the past two years. They were barely acquaintances. Mostly they fought. There was certainly nothing personal between them
Still, he found himself bracing for her answer as he posed the question. “Are you going to take it?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t need any pressure while I make up my mind.”
Travis glanced at Randal again, taking in his clenched fists and the dark scowl that furrowed his aristocratic brow. It was patently obvious that he was after more than just a business relationship with Danielle. And Travis realized he had no way to stop him.
Not that he wanted to stop him. Danielle’s personal life, in D.C. or anywhere else, was none of his business. He hoped it wasn’t Randal’s business. He hadn’t seen much of the guy, but what he’d seen, he didn’t like.
Thankfully Randal didn’t have the upper hand, at least not at the moment anyway. Right now, Travis was the guy who had her in his arms, while Randal was the guy on the sidelines. He deliberately eased their bodies farther away from the crowd and splayed his hand across the small of her back, thinking he liked it this way.
Two
The next morning, Danielle told herself that Travis’s dancing her to the exit and spiriting her to the hotel elevator to get her away from Randal was no big deal. She didn’t owe him any grand thank-you. She’d expressed her appreciation last night, and he’d been polite about it. It was done, over. It had accomplished its objective.
She didn’t need to contact him again. In fact, it was better if she didn’t contact him again. Their dancing last night had confirmed her secret fear. His body was as fit, as rock-hard and as sinewy as she’d fantasized.
He was tall and broad. His chin was square, nose just imperfect enough to be masculine. His blue eyes sparkled with what she swore had to be hidden secrets. And even fresh out of the bull riding arena, he smelled fantastic. She supposed he’d probably showered. But it wasn’t any shampoo or cologne she’d reacted to last night. It was pure, male pheromones that had pushed up her pulse and made her skin tingle in anticipation of his touch.
When he’d pressed their bodies together, a rush of pure arousal had flooded her system. Through the back of her thin, satin tank top, she’d felt the individual calluses on his fingertips. Her breasts had brushed his denim shirt, teasing her nipples, making them embarrassingly hard. Under her own hands, she’d felt the solid strength of his shoulders, the shift of his muscles, and she’d longed to touch every inch of him.
Dancing with Travis was like secretly watching an erotic movie, or spending a week’s pay at the spa or eating chocolate cupcakes with gobs of buttercream icing. You knew you shouldn’t, but sometimes a woman couldn’t help herself.
Now, she made her way to the Sinatra Room to attend a panel on emerging market tariff relief. There was a refreshment stand in the south lobby, and she’d left herself time to pick up a cup of coffee and a muffin. She was thankful that she’d stopped after one martini last night. For a few minutes there, she’d been tempted to order another.
“There you are, Dani,” came Randal’s friendly voice. “I don’t know how I missed you last night.”
“Good morning, Randal.” She quickened her pace.
“Are you going to the tariff panel?”
She was tempted to say no so he wouldn’t join her. But it was an important panel. And if he saw her there later, it would just be embarrassing.
“I am,” she answered. “Just got to grab a coffee first.” She veered off to the right.
“Coffee sounds great.” He kept pace. “I’ll buy. So, how’ve you been? How are things in Chicago?”
“Good,” Danielle replied. “Business is brisk.”
“You got the letter from Nester and Hedley?”
“I did.”
They joined the long line snaking out of the small coffee shop.
“Nice offer?” he pressed.
“Did you have something to do with that?”
Randal held up his palms in a gesture of innocence. “I wish I had that kind of clout.”
She checked his expression, not sure whether she was buying it or not. “You didn’t bring me to the partners’ attention?”
“I did not. I think they were impressed by the Schneider Pistole merger.”
Danielle still wasn’t convinced. “And how did they know about Schneider and Pistole?”
“Everybody knows about Schneider and Pistole. You successfully navigated some very protectionist waters. Bookmakers were giving it seven to one against.”
“Very funny.”
The line moved ahead, and they squeezed to one side to let departing patrons get past. The aromas of icing and cinnamon teased Danielle’s senses. She’d told herself to go with a whole grain, fruit muffin. But the sweet confection was tempting.
Randal’s attention went to the menu board near the ceiling. “I was saying to Laura just last week—”
“Is Laura one of the partners?” Danielle found it hard to believe he’d had nothing to do with the offer.
“Laura’s my girlfriend.”
“You have a girlfriend?”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I thought...I mean...” Danielle didn’t quite know where to go with this. She’d assumed he wanted to rekindle things with her. Had her ego led her that far astray?
“I’m a young, decently intelligent, decently looking man with a bright professional future.”
“Of course you are.” But the declaration sounded artificial even to her own ears.
Randal chuckled. “You should come to D.C., Danielle. It’s where all the action is.”
“There’s a lot going on in Chicago, too.”
They came to the counter.
“Why do I get the feeling you’ve maxed out there?” He looked to the clerk. “Two large coffees, one with cream and sugar, one black.” Then he raised his brow to Danielle. “That still right?”
She nodded. She still sweetened and softened her coffee.
“I’ll take a blueberry bran muffin,” she told the young woman.
“Same for me,” said Randal, reaching for his wallet.
“You don’t have to buy.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you saw the number of zeros on my bonus check.”
The clerk grinned brightly at his joke as she rang in their order, obviously aware that she was serving a good-looking, successful guy.
“That explains the Fendi suit,” said Danielle.
“Come and work with me. The salary they quoted is only the beginning.”
“I’m thinking about it,” she admitted, accepting one of the cardboard cups, and balancing the muffin in her other hand.
“Good.” His smile went wide.
There was a momentary, overly friendly glint in his eye that gave her pause. But she quickly squelched her suspicion. The man had a girlfriend. The idea that he was still pining over her after all these years was ridiculous.
Still, as they started to walk away, he touched her elbow, and something familiar moved up her spine. She shook off the ridiculous reaction, stepping to one side. It was over between them. He had another girlfriend. And she was absolutely not one of those women who took another look at her ex as soon as he was taken by somebody else.
She took a nibble of the dense, molasses-based muffin as she navigated her way through the milling crowd. As she moved into the big lobby, a movement flashed at the corner of her eye. She turned her head and scanned the cavernous space. Suddenly, her gaze caught and held, a sensual awareness washing through her in earnest.
She swallowed.
Travis was leaning indolently against a marble pillar. He should have looked out of place in a plaid Western shirt and faded blue jeans amidst a sea of dark, designer suits, but he didn’t. Somehow, the lawyers looked out of place around him.
“How’s the muffin?” asked Randal, his voice startling her.
“Mmm. Good.” She gave an appreciative nod.
Randal glanced at his watch, making a right turn toward the meeting room. “We’d better hurry.”
“I guess.” She wondered why Travis was here so early in the morning. In fact, why was he here at all? Last night, he’d told her he was staying at the Blonde Desert just off the Strip.
She half expected him to approach them. But he didn’t. Just stood here, watching, a half smile on his face.
“Dani?” Randal prompted, stopping a half step ahead.
For some reason his voice was starting to grate.
“I’m coming,” she answered, peering at Travis a moment longer.
Then she determinedly went ahead, setting a course for the panel discussion, determined to ignore Travis’s presence, but fully aware of his form in her peripheral vision.
She wondered if he had a cell phone. If she knew the number, she could send him a text and ask him what he was doing in the hotel. It occurred to her that Caleb likely knew. She could text Caleb and ask him for Travis’s cell. Would that be weird?
“Over there,” said Randal, as they moved with the flow of the crowd through a set of double doors.
Astrid was waving at them from a classroom style table, on the aisle, halfway up the room. Seats were filling fast, and the panel participants were taking their places at the front of the room. Danielle parked her shoulder bag under the table and took the seat next to Astrid. She draped her purse over the back of the chair, while Randal sat down next to her. Odette and Nadine arrived, and they squished one more chair into the table, pushing Randal’s shoulder against Danielle’s.
“Just like old times,” he joked in her ear, harkening back to their days in law school.
Astrid leaned forward, looking across Danielle to answer Randal. “At least we don’t have to write the bar exam this time.”
Randal gave her an easy smile.
The moderator spoke into the microphone, asking people to get settled, and the rest of the audience quickly took their seats.
Though the speakers were well-versed in their specialties, and the debate was lively, Danielle couldn’t get her mind off Travis, wondering if he was still in the lobby, and what had brought him there in the first place.
Two hours in, when one of the audience members wandered off on an arcane point of law to do with protocols for the functioning of supranational tribunals, she gave in and slipped from her seat. Randal looked surprised and none too pleased at having to move his seat to let her pass. She took her purse but left her shoulder bag, letting everyone think she was going to the ladies’ room.
She’d be right back. The odds that Travis was still out there were overwhelmingly small.
But, there he was.
One of the uniformed women had stepped out from behind the now-empty conference check-in desk and was talking and laughing with him. His gaze lifted, and he caught sight of Danielle. She stopped, not exactly sure what to do. She could still pretend she was going to the ladies’ room, avoid even acknowledging him.
He didn’t move, and neither did she.
Finally, she decided this was ridiculous. She wanted to know what he was doing here, and she’d go and ask him. She started across the mostly empty space, occupied only by hotel and conference staff, and the odd delegate who, like her, had stepped temporarily out of their session.
Her heels clicked on the marble floor. She was conscious of every step. Travis’s face was impassive, but he kept watching as she grew closer.
“Sounds good,” he said to the young, blonde woman. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Then he nodded to Danielle. “Hi there.”
The woman watched over her shoulder with obvious curiosity as she moved back to the long registration table.
“What are you doing here?” Danielle asked without preamble.
“I was getting a coffee, but then Melanie and I started chatting.”
Danielle cast a reflexive glance to the woman who wasn’t even hiding her interest. “I meant, what are you doing at this hotel? You said you were at the Blonde Desert.”
“When the Emperor Plaza found out I was a bull riding champion, they comped a suite.”
“Did you flash your belt buckle?”
He grinned. “Never thought of that.”
“How did they know?”
Travis nodded toward the closed door of the meeting room. “He in there with you?”
“You mean Randal?”
“You still think it’s just business?”
“Absolutely.” More than ever. In fact, she was embarrassed now that she’d ever thought it might be something else.
Travis cracked a mocking half smile.
“What?”
“For such a smart woman, you’re really not a very smart woman.”
“Yeah? Well, for such a dumb cowboy, you really are a dumb cowboy.”
If she’d hoped to get a rise out of him, it didn’t work. His expression never faltered.
“You’re reading way too much into this,” she told him, glancing guiltily toward the meeting room, thinking she needed to get back there and catch the end of the session.
“No, I’m not,” said Travis.
She decided to put a stop to the debate. “He’s got a girlfriend back in D.C.”
“Not a very good one.”
Danielle folded her arms across her chest. “Now, that’s just absurd. You don’t know a single thing about her.” Danielle didn’t even know her name.
“I know he’s thinking about cheating on her.”
“You’re clairvoyant as well as a bull rider?”
“You don’t need to be clairvoyant to read lust in somebody’s expression.”
Danielle’s thoughts faltered, taking her down a worrisome pathway. “Was it me?”
“That he’s lusting after?”
“No. I mean, did I say something, or do something to make it look like I was interested in him?”
Travis rocked back ever so slightly. “Are you interested in him?”
“No. I mean, I don’t think so. But I could be one of those women.”
“One of what women?”
“The ones who don’t want a guy, but don’t want any other woman to have him, either. I mean, maybe when I heard he had a girlfriend, I subconsciously started getting jealous.”
“You’re not one of those women.”
“How do you know for sure? I might be.” What an incredibly distasteful character trait.
“It’s not you. It’s him. He sends out possessive vibes for about a hundred yards.”
“We haven’t seen each other in four years.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Travis confidently drawled.
The sound of applause drifted through the walls. Seconds later, four sets of double doors opened across the lobby, people spilling out in a steady stream. She guessed that answered whether or not she was going to catch the end of the session.
“Here he comes,” said Travis.
Danielle followed the trajectory of his gaze.
“Straight for you.”
“He’s got my bag.”
“A convenient excuse.”
“A gentlemanly act.”
Travis coughed out a laugh.
“You just can’t believe you might have it wrong,” she challenged.
“He’ll ask you to lunch,” Travis predicted. “And when you tell him you’re having lunch with me, it’ll kill him. He’ll say or do something to put me in my place. He’ll be absolutely compelled to point out the cultural differences between you and me, and how he’s the better man.”
“I’m not going for lunch with you.”
“Mark my words,” said Travis as Randal arrived.
“You left your bag behind,” said Randal, sparing a fleeting glance in Travis’s direction.
“Thank you,” Danielle offered, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction.
“Travis Jacobs,” Travis introduced himself, holding out his hand.
Randal seemed to hesitate for a split second. “Randal Kleinfeld.” He shook hands. “I went to Harvard with Danielle.”
“So, I hear,” said Travis.
Randal turned his attention back to Danielle. “So, what would you like to do for lunch?”
She could all but hear Travis’s mocking thoughts, feel him daring her to test his theory. If she did, she’d be stuck going to lunch with him. If she didn’t, he’d probably never let her live it down. But when Randal didn’t try to put Travis in his place the way Travis had predicted, Danielle would feel as if she’d won something, too.
It was worth a lunch with Travis, she decided.
“I’m so sorry,” she told Randal. “But Travis and I have just made lunch plans.”
Randal’s attention darted briefly to Travis. His eyes narrowed as if he was none too happy. But when he spoke to Danielle, his expression smoothed out again.
“I thought you might like to hear about the rest of the tariff Q and A.” Randal smiled, and his gaze slid to Travis again. “We could contrast tripartite arrangements pertaining to intra-regional trade distortions versus the harmonization of partner states.”
“We’re going to contrast the black bulls with the white ones,” Travis said with a straight face.
Danielle thought it was a stretch for Travis to take Randal’s words as a slight, but she nearly laughed at the comeback.
“I can make some introductions to people at the firm,” Randal pushed on. “You should use the break time to your advantage.”
“Sorry,” said Danielle. “But I already have plans.”
Randal hit Travis with a disparaging look. “You’re going to take advantage of her good manners?”
“I was going to pay for the lunch,” said Travis.
“That’s not the point.”
Danielle reached out to where Randal held her bag. “Thanks for bringing this. I’ll probably see you later on in the day?”
Before Randal could react, Travis removed the bag from his grasp.
“Jacque Alanis Signature Room?” Travis asked her in a clear voice, naming the most exclusive and expensive restaurant on the Strip. Then he took her arm and deftly turned her for the main entrance.
“You’re the one who’s throwing down the gauntlet,” she accused as they moved out of earshot.
“If his motives are pure, he’ll have no interest in which restaurant we choose.”
“We’re going to contrast the black and white bulls?”
“He tossed out all that technical language for my benefit.”
“Lawyers always talk that way.”
“You don’t.”
Danielle tried to decide if he was right. “I do when I’m with other lawyers.”
“You don’t do it to belittle other people in a conversation.”
She thought about that. “Sometimes I do it to you.”
He seemed to ponder the comment as they walked out the doors of the main entrance. “Sometimes I deserve it.”
Danielle gaped at him in astonishment, as he gave a hand signal to a doorman.
Within moments, a long, white limousine was pulling to the curb, and the porter held open the back door.
“You have got to be kidding,” she told Travis.
“He’s still watching. I want to make this good.”
Danielle didn’t believe that for one minute. “By now, Randal’s gone to lunch with someone else.”
“No, he hasn’t.” Travis guided her forward with a hand on the small of her back. “And the more I look like a rival, the faster he’ll tip his hand, and prove me right. He’s still after you.”
She put her hand on the open car door. “This is going to cost you a fortune.”
“You’re talking to a man with bull riding prize money in his jeans.”
“You’re going to spend it all just to make a point?”
“Might as well spend it on you.” His blue eyes were fixed and determined.
She gave an unconcerned shrug, answering as she slid into the car. “Fine. I’ve got nothing against the Jacque Alanis Signature Room.”
Travis grinned and slipped the doorman a bill before following her inside. The door shut behind him, and his phone began to ring. He reached into the breast pocket of his Western shirt.
“I think the Signature Room requires a jacket,” said Danielle.
He gazed at his phone display. “In the absence of a jacket, they require a good tip.” He gave her an eyebrow waggle. “It’s Vegas, baby. You mind if I take this? It’s Caleb.”
Danielle felt her eyes widen. She wondered how Caleb could have known she was with Travis. Then she remembered Caleb and Travis were close friends. Then she realized she was making a colossal mistake by accepting his invitation to lunch. This was Travis, her archenemy from Lyndon Valley. Why had she let her guard down?
“Hey, Caleb,” he said into the phone.
Then he paused and listened, brow furrowing in concern.
The driver put the limo into gear and pulled ahead.
“Is everybody okay with that?” he asked.
Danielle didn’t want to be nosey, but she couldn’t help think something was wrong back at the Jacobses’ ranch.
“No. If that’s what he wants, then it seems like a good solution.” Travis paused again. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll get it done.”
The limo pulled into the busy street, and Danielle hung on to a handle as they bumped from the hotel driveway. The Signature Room was only half a mile away, but traffic was busy.
Travis’s gaze went to Danielle, a conspiratorial smile growing on his face. “She’s here? Really?”
She held her breath, not exactly sure why she wanted Caleb kept in the dark, but quite certain that she did.
“I’ll watch for her,” said Travis. “Thursday, it is. See you then.”
He ended the call. Then he grinned at her. “Caleb just informed me you were in Vegas.”
Danielle struggled to frame the right words. She didn’t want to offend Travis, but she didn’t want anybody getting the wrong idea, either.
“Relax,” he drawled. “I’m not going to kiss and tell.”
Her guilt turned to irritation. “Nobody’s kissing anyone.”
“It’s an expression.”
Her own phone chimed.
He glanced to her purse. “Go for it. I did.”
“Thanks.” She popped the snap and reached inside, extracting the slim phone. It was Caleb.
She pressed the answer button, watching Travis as she spoke. “Hi, Caleb.”
Travis’s brows shot up. Then he grinned, shaking his head.
“How’s the conference?” Caleb asked.
“Interesting, so far,” said Danielle, thinking it was interesting, and on more than one level. “It’s going very well,” she added.
“Good. Glad to hear it. Listen, I’m going to be in Vegas on Thursday.”
Danielle shot a reflexive and accusatory glare at Travis. He could have mentioned that fact.
“You’re coming to Vegas,” she said to both men.
“We’re going to hold Alex Cable’s bachelor party there. You remember he’s marrying Mandy’s cousin Lisa?”
“I do,” Danielle confirmed.
Caleb’s wife, Mandy, had only recently discovered Lisa was her cousin. Lisa was Mayor Seth Jacobs’s Chief of Staff, and Danielle had worked with her on permitting for the Lyndon Valley railway. Alex also had a family connection. He was Mandy’s brother-in-law Zach’s partner in DFB Brewing Company.
“We were going to hold it at the brewery, but they ran into a problem with some renovations, so we’re moving to plan B. Hey, you’ll never guess who else is in Vegas this weekend.”
“Who?” she asked, her voice going slightly high pitched as guilt contracted her stomach.
“Travis. He’s going to plan everything, and we’ll fly in Thursday afternoon. I’d like to meet with you about the Columbia accounting firm and a couple of other things if you can still be there.”
“Sure,” said Danielle. “No problem.” She had planned to fly back to Chicago on Tuesday, but Action Equipment was a very important client. She’d meet Caleb whenever and wherever he needed.
“He’s bull riding,” said Caleb.
“Travis?”
“Mandy saw where he won yesterday.”
“Good for him,” said Danielle.
“You’re at the Emperor Plaza?”
“I am,” she admitted.
“I’ll see if Travis can get our rooms there.”
“Good idea.”
“Perfect. Talk to you Thursday.”
“Bye, Caleb.” She pushed the end button, letting her hand drop into her lap.
Travis’s phone rang.
“That’ll be Caleb,” she told him fatalistically. “He wants you to get them rooms at the Emperor Plaza.”
Travis grinned. “Hi, Caleb.”
The limo took a wide turn, and Danielle hung on again. It then came to a smooth stop in front of the restaurant entrance.
“Sure,” said Travis. “I’ll send the particulars as soon as I have them. You want strippers?”
Danielle shot him a glower of disapproval.
Travis chuckled into the phone. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I wouldn’t want to tangle with her either.”
The driver pulled opened the limo door, letting sunshine and warm air flood in. The noise from other traffic and the sidewalk crowds displaced the relative quiet of the limo.
“Gotta go,” said Travis. “I’ve got a hot lunch date.”
“Very funny,” Danielle muttered as she shifted to the door.
“Ma’am,” said the driver, holding out his hand.
She accepted the offer of assistance, smoothing her skirt as she stepped onto the sidewalk. Travis climbed out, her bag in his hand.
He paid the driver. Then he generously tipped the maître d’, and they were quickly shown to a table on the second-floor patio. They had a sun umbrella above them, flower boxes decorating the rail beside them, and a panoramic fountain display across the street. The white tablecloth billowed slightly in the breeze, held down by a low, floral centerpiece and an abundant setting of fine china, crystal and silver.
It was warm, and Danielle shrugged out of her gray blazer. The waiter offered to hang it up, and laid a linen napkin across her lap.
She glanced at her watch to see it was coming up on noon. “I need to get back by one-thirty.”
“No problem,” said Travis, accepting a slim, leather-bound menu from the waiter.
The man handed Danielle a menu, while a second waiter filled their glasses with distilled water. The traffic noise and stereo music wafted up to them, along with laughter and a few yelps from the crowds below as the fountains danced higher. It was only noon, but many youthful tourists were already in the party spirit.
“Tell me you were joking about the strippers,” said Danielle, focusing her attention across the table.
“I was joking about the strippers.”
“That didn’t sound sincere.”
“If Alex wanted strippers, I’d get him strippers.”
“Would you want them at your bachelor party?”
“Nope.” There wasn’t the slightest hesitation in his answer.
“Are you humoring me?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
The Travis she’d observed over the past two years was ribald and rowdy. She could easily picture him whooping it up at a bachelor party.
He sat forward, resting his forearms on the table and fixing his gaze on her. “If I was getting married, I expect I’d be seeing a gorgeous woman naked on a regular basis. I wouldn’t have the slightest interest in anyone else.”
Danielle had to give him points for that. “Good answer.”
“Thank you. I’m not without experience.”
“Seeing naked women?” she joked.
“Falling in love.”
That answer threw her. “You’re in love?”
Travis was in a relationship? What had she missed? And why had a knot suddenly formed in her stomach?
“I watched Caleb, Reed, Seth and Alex all fall head over heels in love. I think I know what to expect.”
“But you’re not in love yourself?”
“Not yet.” His expression turned reflective. “But if it happens, I know I’ll recognize the signs.”
The knot in her stomach relaxed.
“Your turn,” he told her, his inquiring tone putting her on alert. “Ever been in love?”
Unsure how much she wanted to disclose to Travis, she bought herself a moment, reaching for two of the flowers in the centerpiece, switching their places to fix the balance.
“I’ve dated men I liked,” she allowed. “Some, I liked very much. But love?” She shook her head. “I probably wouldn’t know the signs if they bit me on the backside.”
“I can tell you the signs,” Travis offered easily. “Or I can bite you on the backside. Your choice.”
A rush of unexpected arousal raised the temperature on her skin.
Travis grinned. “You’re blushing.”
“I’m embarrassed. You’re far too crude.”
“No.” He waggled his brows. “I’m exactly the right amount of crude.”
Danielle couldn’t help remembering Nadine’s brazen comments. Crude could be sexy. Crude could be very, very sexy.
Three
When Travis spotted Danielle across the lobby that evening, he knew his hunch had paid off. Randal was with her, as he’d expected. They were part of a larger group that included her friends Astra, Nadine and Odette, obviously gathering together before leaving for a function.
She was dressed in a black cocktail dress. He wouldn’t call it basic. It was off the shoulder, with a lace trimmed neckline that sparkled with inset jewels. The hammered satin molded to her breasts, fitting her waist, and flowed smoothly down to midthigh. She wore delicate diamond earrings, and a thin, diamond choker.
Her shoes were silver, barely there, with long, thin heels that made him want to peel them off and toss them in the corner of his hotel room.
Randal clearly felt the same way. The man was practically salivating as he gazed at her shapely legs. Danielle was slender, very much suited to elegant clothes. But, with big, brown eyes and full, red lips, she looked sophisticated one minute, innocent the next. A man didn’t know whether to protect her or ravish her. Travis wanted to do both.
While the group chatted, he made his way closer. He’d picked up a suit in one of the hotel shops. It was basic, charcoal-gray, with a white shirt and silver striped tie. His hair was trimmed neat, his face clean-shaven. The only thing that differentiated him from the lawyers in the room was a pair of polished, black cowboy boots.
“Travis,” Nadine sang out, motioning him over. “Look, Danielle. It’s Travis.”
Danielle spotted him, and her round eyes went wider still. It might have been the shock of having him show up unexpectedly, but he hoped it was surprise at how well he’d cleaned up.
He’d made her at least an hour late for her workshops this afternoon. He should have felt guilty about that, but he didn’t. They hadn’t made any plans to see each other again. But he’d guessed that whatever evening shindig was being put on by the conference would start in the lobby.
Nadine skipped over and gave him a friendly hug. She was dressed in deep purple with lots of sequins.
She pulled back. “You look terrific.”
“Thanks.” He made a show of taking in her dress and her dangling earrings. “You look very beautiful yourself.”
She gave a delighted grin at the compliment.
His gaze moved to Danielle, catching Randal’s scowl on the way by, and experiencing a thrill of satisfaction.
“Good evening, Danielle.”
“Travis,” she acknowledged evenly, an unspoken question in her eyes. She likely wanted to know what on earth he was doing.
“Nice to see you again, Randal.” He nodded to the man. “Astra, Odette.” His gaze paused on a thin, expensively dressed, older woman, standing next to a man who looked to be her husband.
“Claude and Catherine Hedley,” Danielle introduced. “This is Travis Jacobs. Travis is from Lyndon Valley, Colorado. He’s a friend of Caleb Terrell, Active Equipment, one of my major clients.”
Catherine Hedley gave a warm smile. “So nice to meet you, Mr. Jacobs. Are you attending the conference?”
Travis stepped forward to gently shake the older woman’s hand. “Please, call me Travis. I’m not a lawyer, ma’am.”
Randal piped up. “He’s a bull rider.”
Claude Hedley looked surprised by the revelation.
“I’m a rancher, sir.” Travis held out his hand to Claude. “Our spread is next door to Caleb’s in Lyndon Valley.”
“And he won first prize last night,” Odette put in helpfully.
“Caleb diversified into Active Equipment many years ago,” Danielle elaborated, obviously trying to make up for the social gaffe of being acquainted with a bull rider. “While the Jacobs family has gone into politics, the arts in New York, and a fast-growing international brewing company.”
“The brewery is my brother-in-law,” said Travis, unwilling to push the spin too far. “I just take care of the cattle.”
Claude Hedley shook his hand. “Call me Claude. It sounds like your family is up and coming.”
“His sister is Katrina Jacobs,” said Astra. “The ballet dancer.”
Travis glanced at her in surprise.
“I’ve got internet,” said Astra.
“Danielle, your friend should join us for the reception,” Catherine Hedley put in. Then she looked to Travis. “We’re touring the Van Ostram Botanical Gardens.”
Randal obviously couldn’t hold his tongue. “I’m sure Travis has plans with the rodeo crowd.”
“As a matter of fact,” said Travis, glancing at his watch. “I just had a meeting postponed.”
“That settles it,” said Catherine with another smile. “You know, I do believe I’ve seen your sister dance.”
“She’s been with the Liberty Ballet for several years now.”
“That makes sense, then.”
“We can catch the limos out front,” Claude offered, stretching out an arm to invite them to proceed.
Randal swiftly sidled up to Danielle. They were slightly ahead of Travis as the group began to move.
“What are you doing?” Randal hissed at her in clear annoyance.
“What do you expect me to do?”
“Get rid of him.”
“How would you suggest I do that?”
Travis couldn’t tell whether Danielle thought getting rid of him was a good idea or not. It didn’t really matter, since he wasn’t going anywhere except with her. Randal might be able to snow Danielle about his intentions, but Travis was on to him, and he was going to force the man to show his hand.
“You need their support,” said Randal.
“They’ve already made me an offer,” Danielle countered.
“Getting through the door is only the first step.”
“Catherine invited him, not me.”
“Everything the man says and does tonight will reflect on you.”
Travis bit his tongue. He was tempted to tell Randal he’d do his level best not to spit and swear in front of the Hedleys. But he didn’t want Randal to know he could overhear.
The group was forced to split up, taking two of the black Escalade SUVs. Randal jockeyed hard, but ended up with the Hedleys and Odette, where he politely, if reluctantly, offered to clamber into the third-row seat.
Travis intended to do the same in the other vehicle, but Nadine insisted that she, Astrid and Danielle could fit in the middle seat, and Travis should ride up front. The driver slanted a covetous glance at the three beautiful women in his rearview mirror and gave Travis a discrete thumbs-up as they pulled away.
When Astrid expressed a desire for breath mints, Travis asked the driver to stop and hopped out to buy them for her. He took enough time to be certain the Hedleys’ group would have headed into the reception by the time the second Escalade arrived at the gardens.
Travis tipped the driver and helped each of the women out of the vehicle. The trees at the entrance were lit with tiny white lights. Glowing orange lanterns illuminated a stone walkway, while colored spots gave a fantasy aura to the leafy plants and flowering gardens.
Danielle moved up beside him as they passed a glowing, purple pond. “What exactly are you doing?”
Travis considered a range of answers and decided to be honest. “I’m making him stark raving mad.”
“Why? I’m sure you had far better things to do tonight than hang out with a bunch of stuffy lawyers.”
“You’re not a stuffy lawyer.”
“You know what I mean.”
“He’s going to show his hand, Danielle. He can’t stand the competition, and he’s going to make a pass at you. And then you’ll know.”
“Know what?”
Travis counted off on his fingers. “That he’s willing to cheat on his girlfriend. That this was never about a job. That he wants you back in his life, back in his bed.”
She went silent for a long moment. “It’s not true.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Why do you even care?”
The question stopped Travis. It took him a minute to collect his thoughts. “I care because he’s lying to you.”
They walked a bit farther in silence, beneath a canopy of oaks, green, red and blue spots glowing up their trunks.
Finally, she drew an audible breath. “What you’re doing doesn’t make sense, Travis.”
“Why does it have to make sense?” Even as he said the words, he knew she was right. He had absolutely no reason to meddle in her life.
“Everything has to make some kind of sense,” she countered.
“Maybe to a lawyer. But cowboys operate on instinct.”
She paused at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the pavilion, turning to face him. Astrid and Nadine were several yards ahead.
“And, what’s your instinct telling you?” she asked.
He gazed down at her. His instinct was telling him to kiss her, and kiss her hard. But he couldn’t do that here. Not that he could do it anywhere.
“It’s telling me he’s no good for you, Danielle. He’s no good for you, and I’m the only guy around to stop him.”
“I am a grown woman, Travis. I can stop him all by myself.”
Travis smiled at that. In many ways it was true. But his way was faster, and he didn’t like the odds that she’d end up getting hurt. “He’s too sneaky, and you’re too kind.”
“What do you mean I’m kind? I fight with you all the time.”
“It’s safe for you to fight with me.”
She tilted her pretty head sideways, and he couldn’t help but think it was the perfect angle to kiss. “Your instincts telling you that, too?” she asked tartly.
“Yep. And they’re infallible.” He offered her his arm to walk up the staircase.
* * *
Inside the reception, Danielle left Travis to his own devises. She quickly found herself swept up in a whirlwind of introductions and conversations with the who’s who of Nester and Hedley. It seemed they were interested in her South American experience. Brazil and Columbia were rising on everyone’s trade radar in D.C., and their expertise was weak for the region. They saw an opportunity to get in early on this new wave, and they wanted Danielle to head up an entire division.
It was a genuine, exciting offer that didn’t appear to have anything to do with Randal. In fact, she’d barely seen him since they arrived. The senior partners seemed to know her entire professional history, even details of Caleb’s Active Equipment activities and challenges in Columbia.
It was close to eleven when, throat raw from talking over the music, and feet sore from her high shoes, she pushed her way up to a bar stool and asked the bartender for a soda and lime.
“He’s watching you,” came Travis’s deep voice from behind her left ear. He took the stool next to her.
“He’s barely said a word to me all night long. Honestly, the only person creeping me out here, is you.”
“He’s known where you were every second.”
She angled toward him. “First, I don’t believe you. Second, I’ve been talking with his bosses. They’re the ones who have his attention, not me.”
Travis reached for a handful of the snack mix on the bar. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“I will, thank you very much.”
The waiter set her drink down in front of her and looked to Travis for his order.
“Are you hungry?” Travis asked her. “Those little crab puffs and cheese squares didn’t do it for me.”
“I’m not leaving yet.”
“I’ll take a beer,” Travis said to the waiter. “Whatever you’ve got on tap.”
“It’s by the bottle, sir.”
Danielle couldn’t help but grin as she stirred the ice in her soda and lime.
“Anything from DFB?”
“Mountain Red?”
“Sounds great.”
The waiter turned to the glass-fronted refrigerator.
“This isn’t a honky-tonk,” Danielle pointed out.
“Are my country roots showing?”
She realized how snobby she sounded. “An honest mistake. No big deal.”
The waiter returned with an open bottle of Mountain Red and a chilled pilsner glass. Travis handed him a tip, and Danielle realized she was the one who lacked class.
“How’s it going?” Travis asked her as he tipped the glass and poured in the amber liquid. It foamed slightly at the top of the flared glass.
“They seem serious,” she answered, gazing at the bubbles in her own drink. “They know a lot about me.”
“Yeah? All good?”
She smiled to herself. “They think it’s good. They know what I did for Active Equipment and a few others, and they want me to head up a South American division.”
She couldn’t help replaying the conversations in her mind. If Claude Hedley was to be believed, she’d be on the cutting edge of a global wave of interest. The earning potential would be massive, and she’d be in a position to set her own priorities and parameters.
“You going to take it?” asked Travis.
“I’m thinking about it,” she answered honestly. Then it suddenly occurred to her she was talking to a close friend of Caleb’s.
She quickly turned to take in his expression. “But...uh...”
He caught on quick. “You don’t want me to tell Caleb.”
Her hand went reflexively to his forearm. “I’d never ask you to lie. But it would be better for me if you didn’t mention it to him right away.”
He took a reflective drink of his beer. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry to put you in that position.”
“I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”
“I really didn’t think this through.” Where had her common sense been yesterday when she’d mentioned this to Travis.
“Unusual for you?” he asked.
“Very.”
“He’s coming over.”
“Who?”
“Randal. Who else.” Travis’s gaze went down. “You’re touching me, and he feels threatened. He’s about to stake his territory.”
She immediately realized she hadn’t taken her hand from Travis’s arm. Then she realized his arm was warm, hot actually under her fingertips. He was solid, strong and alive. She didn’t want to pull away.
“Don’t panic,” Travis muttered in an undertone. “But I’m going to touch your hair.”
“Wha—”
Before she could finish the word, he gently brushed the back of his knuckles along her cheek, smoothing her hair back over her ear.
She froze, every nerve ending in her body focusing on the gentle touch. Pings of awareness and desire shot out, sending signals of desire to every corner of her body.
“Dani,” boomed Randal’s voice. He wrapped a hearty arm around her shoulders and gave her a pat. “It looked like things went well?”
Travis’s hand fell away. “Hello, Randal.”
“Oh, Travis.” Randal pretended he’d just noticed him. “How’re you holding up here?”
“Managing just fine,” Travis responded.
Randal turned his attention back to Danielle. “What did they say? More importantly, what did you say?”
“She hasn’t made up her mind yet,” Travis put in.
Randal sent him a glare. “I asked Dani.”
“Well, Dani told me first.”
“Travis,” Danielle warned.
He was entitled to whatever theory he concocted, but that didn’t give him the right to pick a fight.
Randal drew back his shoulders, lifting his chin. “She did, did she?”
“They offered me a South American division,” she quickly told Randal.
“That’s great.” His shoulders relaxed. “I’m going to head up Europe, starting in September. We’d be at exactly the same level, on the partners’ floor. I don’t have to tell you, that’s an impressive way to enter the firm.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Danielle agreed.
“The expense account is unlimited. The benefits are top-drawer, and the work is some of the most intellectually stimulating—”
“Randal?” she interrupted.
“Yes?”
“I’ve been listening to the sales pitch all night.”
Travis stifled a chuckle.
Randal’s attention immediately flew to him. “You got something to add here?”
“Not a thing,” said Travis, polishing off his beer. “You’re doing just fine all by yourself.”
Randal glared a moment longer, but then something caught his attention across the room. “There’s old man Nester.” He squeezed Danielle’s shoulder, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial level. “Give me three minutes to break into the conversation, then come over and join us.”
He walked away.
Travis looked at Danielle, and she stared back.
“Well?” he asked.
She was all schmoozed out. Her feet were swelling. Her makeup was about to crack. And the last thing she wanted to do was humor the wheezy, narcissistic Edger Nester through what she’d heard tended to be half-hour-long discourses on the flaws in judicial procedure. If she took the job, she’d have to put up with it. But she wasn’t there yet.
“I’m out of here,” she told Travis.
His hand went immediately to her elbow, helping her down from the high stool, before turning them to a nearby side exit.
They came out into the gardens, quiet in the late hour. The breeze had picked up, cooling the air, and Travis quickly shrugged out of his suit jacket, draping it around her shoulders. They started down a winding flagstone walkway.
“That was a quick decision,” he noted.
“I’ve only met Mr. Nester once, but I’ve heard tales of his boring orations, and I’m tired.” She reached down and peeled off her sandals, moving to the soft grass at the side of the path. “My feet are killing me.”
“You want me to carry you?” he offered.
She shook her head, though the thought of being held in his arms gave her a shiver of excitement. “This is nice.” She curled her toes into the dense blades of grass.
He took up a slow pace, along the edge of a narrow brook, in the general direction of a purple lighted pond, leaving the music and laughter behind them. “If you resign, what will happen in Chicago?”
“You mean, what will happen to Active Equipment?”
“And your other clients.”
“They’ll be assigned to other lawyers.”
“Does that worry you?”
“I’d feel guilty,” she admitted, switching her sandals to the other hand. “But I’m not the only lawyer in the world. My firm has many other people who are perfectly capable of servicing my clients.”
“So, there’s nothing unique about you?”
She smiled at that. “I’d like to think there was. I’d like to think I was irreplaceable. But that would be a little conceited, right?”
His voice was low, sounding almost annoyed. “Some people do have to stay where they’re needed.”
“Do you think I’m letting Caleb down?”
“I wasn’t talking about you.”
She paused, tilting her head to peer up at him. “Who?”
He stopped walking, seeming to hesitate for a long moment, as the babble of the brook rose around them, the scent of the flowers sweetened the air. “I was talking about me.”
“You’re leaving Lyndon Valley?” She could hardly believe it.
In her mind, Travis was Lyndon Valley. While the Terrells and the other Jacobs siblings might come and go from the ranches, Travis was the stalwart, always there, always available, always taking care of anything and everything.
He shook his head. “My point was, I can’t leave Lyndon Valley. The ranch needs me.”
“And you need the ranch.” She thought she understood.
“Something like that.” There was an edge to his voice.
“You think I’m abandoning the people who count on me.”
It was hardly the same situation. Just because she’d gone to law school and started in a particular job, didn’t mean she had to stay there forever.
“If you were abandoning them. If they told you, you were abandoning them. If you knew it would hurt them, would you stay?”
“That’s a hypothetical situation.” She’d like to think she’d done some good work for Caleb and the others over the years. But she’d hardly cripple anyone’s business if she moved on.
“Hypothetically speaking, and I’m not going to hold you to it, if you knew it would hurt them, would you leave anyway?”
She searched his expression. “What are you getting at, Travis?”
He gazed at the lighted trees. “Responsibility, I guess—the kind of responsibility that paints a man into a corner and limits his choices.”
She stepped forward, still not pinning down where he was going with this. “You’re getting very philosophical on me, cowboy.”
He gave a self-conscious smile. “Just trying to help you make a decision.”
“You want me to stay in Chicago.”
“I want you to understand the true details of your options.”
A door banged shut on the pavilion, and several voices rose in the garden.
“He wouldn’t come looking for me,” Danielle said, more to herself than to Travis.
“Oh, yes, he would.” Travis snagged her hand, striding across the sloped grass, tugging her toward a dark corner where they’d be screened from the path.
She had to trot to keep up.
They made their way behind a hedge, beyond the orange glow of the walkway lanterns, to a secluded corner where blue light filtered weakly through the maple leaves. Her mind went back over his words. He’d said it limited a man’s choices, not a woman’s choices, not a person’s choices.
He abruptly stopped, and she nearly ran into him.
“Your feet okay?” he asked, turning.
“Travis, do you want to leave the ranch?”
“No.”
She pondered a second longer. “But you resent that you can’t. Or, wait a minute, you resent that you don’t have the choice.”
This time he hesitated before answering.
“You should tell them,” she said.
“Tell them what?”
“That you—”
“That Katrina can’t be a ballerina?” Travis spoke right over her, annoyance in his tone. “That Seth should give up being mayor? That Mandy can’t be in Chicago with Caleb? Or that Abigail should force Zach to sell his brewery?”
Danielle definitely saw his point. It didn’t make it fair, but she understood how he must feel.
“We’re the fifth generation,” he told her.
“That’s a lot on your shoulders.”
“They’re broad shoulders.”
Her gaze strayed. “Yes, they are.”
“You won’t say anything to Caleb.”
“And mess with your self-righteous sense of nobility?”
“I’m not self-righteous.”
She gazed up into his eyes. He was taller when her feet were bare. Taller, stronger, magnificent.
“You are noble,” she whispered, finding herself shifting closer to him.
“I’m practical.”
“You operate on instinct,” she reminded him, tilting her chin, moistening her lips, wondering if she could possibly be more obvious.
“I do,” he breathed.
“So, instinctively...”
His hands bracketed her hips, easing her against him. “Instinctively, I want to kiss you.”
She smiled.
“But I’ve had that particular instinct for a long time now, and I’m not sure I should trust it.”
“You should trust it.”
His hands moved to her face, cradling it gently in his palms. “What about my other instincts?”
“You have other instincts?”
“To toss you down on the grass and ravish you in the moonlight.”
Want and need instantly cascaded through her, weakening her knees and robbing her of her breath. She wished it didn’t sound so tempting. There were a million complicated reasons to keep her distance from Travis, even if her own desires were screaming at her to ignore them.
She came up on her toes to meet him. “Let’s take it one instinct at a time.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His lips came down on hers, warm and firm, fueled with purpose and expectation.
One arm went around her waist, the other bracing the back of her head. She dropped her sandals and clung to his shoulders. Then she ran her hands through his hair, pressing her body against his, parting her lips and inviting the sweep of his tongue.
His kiss deepened, and she clung tighter, letting the sweep of arousal and desire flood through her. Leaves clattered above them. A blue glow surrounded them. The grass was cool on her feet, while Travis’s hot palm moved its way down her cheek, to her neck, to the bare shoulder revealed by her dress.
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