A COWBOY'S SECRET Read online

  Her body was going to be on the line – in more ways than one.

  But he wanted her, she reminded herself. He'd said so. He didn't want to keep his hands off her.

  Surely he would be involved in this "test," too. He wouldn't be lying there passively grading her. Would he?

  Of course not!

  This was J.D. J.D. of the infinite patience, of the gentle hands and encouraging smile. J.D. – the man she loved.

  All she had to do was show him how much.

  Believing that got her through the meal. Made her smile again. Made her feast her eyes on him and let the anticipation build. She was nervous.

  But she thought he was, too.

  He did his share of glancing her way, of meeting her gaze almost hungrily, then looking quickly away. It was as if there was too much heat between them – as if, were they to stare openly, both of them would get burned.

  There would be time for burning.

  When they got back home, the fires they'd kept banked all evening could flame to life.

  Soon. Soon.

  They drove back to the ranch in the moonlight. It was a clear night. Autumn frost was sharp in the October air.

  Lydia didn't mind. She slid over next to J.D. "S' cold," she murmured.

  He hesitated a moment, then took one hand off the steering wheel to slide his arm around her. Sighing, she snuggled closer, rested her head against his shoulder, rested her hand on the top of his thigh and felt it flex beneath her fingers. She rubbed it experimentally.

  Practicing.

  He fidgeted. Cleared his throat. "I'll turn up the heat," he said, and pulled his arm back out to do just that.

  "Thanks," she said wryly.

  He shrugged his shoulders against the back of the seat. "Welcome." The word was a mutter, nothing more. She looked over at him, trying to catch his expression in the moonlight. He was staring straight ahead.

  She watched him. Studied his profile. Traced the brush of hair beneath his hat, the strong line of his nose, the brief softness of his lips, the uncompromising hardness of his jaw. She could look at him forever.

  She would look at him forever.

  Still he stared straight ahead.

  "J.D.?"

  She saw him swallow. His fingers flexed on the steering wheel. "What?"

  She didn't speak until he finally glanced her way. Then she smiled. "I'm so glad to be home. I missed you."

  "Missed you, too." The words seemed almost dragged from him. He seemed more nervous than she was.

  Was that possible? Surely not. J.D. had to have far more experience with sex than she did. But maybe he'd never really "made love," either.

  She smiled. She snuggled close again even though the heater was blasting them. She turned her face to his shoulder and kissed it. Then she lifted it and kissed him on the jaw. "I love you," she told him.

  His knuckles tightened on the wheel. She heard a gritting sound that she couldn't quite identify. And then slowly, almost reluctantly, it seemed to her, he put his arm back around her again and held her close.

  She awoke to find they were bouncing down the gravel road toward the house. "Oh! I'm sorry! I—" she yawned and straightened just a bit. "—I didn't mean to fall asleep."

  "No problem." His voice was gruff. He pulled into the yard and parked next to her car. "You been workin' hard."

  "So have you."

  "Well, I couldn't fall asleep, could I?" He slanted her a grin, and the moonlight caught the whiteness of his teeth. "Somebody had to drive."

  "We should have stayed over. Got a motel." She flicked a glance at him to see how he'd react to that.

  He licked his lips quickly, then rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. "Well, no need," he said briskly. "We're home now. You go on in to bed. I … I got a couple things to do in the barn." And with that he turned on his heel and strode away.

  Lydia stared after him, nonplussed. Chores? Now?

  And then she realized what he was doing. He was giving her time to get ready for bed – for him – in private. He knew she wasn't experienced. He was only trying to make her more comfortable.

  She smiled – and then she headed for the house.

  She showered quickly, unsure how long it would take him to come in. A part of her wondered if he might join her in the shower if she just dawdled long enough. But another part of her wanted to greet him looking her best, not with wet, scraggly hair. So she washed and got out rapidly. Then she dried off and put on her nightgown.

  It wasn't exactly a sexy nightgown. Lydia was more serviceable than sexy. She suspected he knew that. She also suspected he would make quick work of the nightgown. She debated going into his room and waiting for him in his bed.

  But to do so seemed presumptuous. Heaven knew she didn't want to be presumptuous. So she went to her own room. She turned off all the lights but one small one beside her bed. She folded back the blankets and slipped in. Then she shoved herself up against the pillows to wait.

  She waited. And waited.

  She got up and looked out toward the barn. There was a light on. But even as she stood there, it flicked off.

  She smiled and watched as the door swung open. Then she stared openmouthed as J.D. led out his horse, closed the door again, mounted and rode away.

  * * *

  Chapter 9

  « ^ »

  "Haven't seen you in ages," Kristen said. "I suppose J.D. is keeping you busy?" She grinned and waggled well-shaped blond eyebrows at Lydia.

  Lydia, not in the best humor, said testily, "I've been in Helena. I had a case, if you recall."

  "And won it, too," Kristen said, still cheerful. "I read the papers. And as long as you're not going up against me, I'm rooting for you."

  "Thank you." Lydia managed a smile. She tried to look as if she were glad to be here. After all, her friendship with Kristen was one of the things that had made coming back to Murray such an attractive proposition. That and her desire to get back near the land. And her desire to get back near J.D.

  Ultimately, let's face it, it all came back to J.D.

  And a fat lot of good it had done her.

  "Did you get all settled in before you left?" Kristen asked. She had her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee and was regarding Lydia with a hopeful smile. "It was darn good thinking, you turning me down and moving out to the ranch."

  Was it? Lydia wondered. He hadn't come home last night.

  He'd never come home. She'd waited up, had paced the floor, had fallen asleep on the sofa. He'd never come.

  She'd told herself he must have remembered something he needed to do, either that or he'd got an emergency call on the cell phone Trey had him carry. At least that was what she'd thought until she went to Trey's this morning. She expected to see his truck, which had in fact disappeared from the house while she'd dozed. But it hadn't been there.

  "I barely see him," she said to Kristen now, straining to sound matter-of-fact and indifferent. She waited until Claudia had brought their sandwiches, then left before she said, "I was in Helena for two weeks. I just got back yesterday and now he's gone to Elmer."

  At least that's what Trey had told her when she'd showed up on his front porch.

  "He didn't tell you he was going?" The older man's brows had drawn down. "Thought he'd asked your permission. They say you've got J.D. well and truly hooked."

  "I don't think so."

  Trey's gaze had narrowed. "You're hooked, though. Aren't you?" He looked at her intently, the way he used to look at witnesses he was cross-examining.

  "Yes," she admitted.

  Trey beamed. "Well, thank God for that." He rubbed his hands together. "That's wonderful. Truly wonderful. Couldn't be better if I'd planned it myself."

  Lydia just looked at him. "What are you talking about?"

  "You and J.D." He was still smiling. "It's perfect."

  Try telling J.D. that, Lydia thought grimly.

  She hadn't said it aloud, though, because, knowing Trey, be would do just t
hat. She didn't need Trey messing up her already-messed-up life.

  "So, he went to Elmer. How long is he going to be there?" Kristen asked now.

  Lydia shrugged. "Two or three days. Trey wasn't sure. He took down some horses that Trey sold Taggart Jones. He also took some others Taggart wanted to look over. J.D.'s supposed to be putting them through their paces."

  Kristen grinned. "And then you can put him through his."

  Lydia sighed. "Not likely."

  Kristen's brows drew down. "What do you mean? You're living with him. You have the hots for him. He has the hots for you."

  Lydia didn't deny that, but she couldn't stop herself from saying plaintively, "Not that it's doing me any good."

  "What?" Kristen gaped at her. "I can't believe it. What's the matter with him? What's the matter with you? Why haven't you seduced him?"

  "Se … duced?" Lydia thought it might be the first time she'd ever said the word out loud.

  Kristen groaned. "Seduced. As in, made it impossible for him to say no."

  "I wouldn't know how," Lydia said honestly.

  "Then you'll just have to learn." Lydia wondered if they had books on such things. Probably. They had books on everything these days. She said so.

  "Not books," Kristen said impatiently. "You can't learn everything from books, for heaven's sake."

  "But then, how—"

  "You need an expert." Kristen looked around. "Claudia!"

  Lydia almost leaped out of her chair. "Don't you dare!"

  But Kristen wasn't listening. She was saying, "Ah, Claudia. I wonder if you can help. Lydia has something she needs to know."

  * * *

  "So," Gus said as he led the way up the steps to his current home-away-from-home, the Jones ranch bunkhouse, "what's this I hear about you livin' with Lydia Cochrane?"

  J.D. tripped on the bottom step and damn near went sprawling. He shoved himself upright and glared at his brother. "I'm not living with Lydia Cochrane!"

  One of Gus's brows lifted. "No? I beard there was a fire at her place and she moved out to the ranch."

  J.D. scowled. "There's living together and living together," he said irritably, as he knew better than anybody on earth right now. "There's a big difference."

  "Ah." A grin spread across Gus's handsome face. "And which one would you be doin'?"

  J.D. gritted his teeth. "I'm not sleepin' with her!"

  "An' madder'n hell about it from the looks of you," Gus said cheerfully.

  "Don't talk like that. It's disrespectful to her. She's not that kind of woman!"

  Gus's eyes widened. "Not that— Ho, boy." He let out a low whistle and shook his head. The grin was back. "You got it bad."

  J.D. frowned. "Got what?"

  "The biggest, baddest four-letter word in the world."

  J.D.'s hands balled into fists. He took a furious step forward.

  Gus took a quick step back. "L-O-V-E, bro. Love! What'd you think I meant?"

  Gus knew damned well what J.D. thought he'd meant. It was one of the few words he could spell. He could spell love too. But that was all he could do with it – at least as far as Lydia was concerned.

  "Don't be an idiot," he said gruffly. "Me an' Lydia Cochrane? The lawyer and the cowpoke? That's rich."

  It hurt just to say the words. To put him and Lydia together. To be so damn far apart.

  He'd wanted her so bad last night he couldn't even go back to the house. He knew what would have happened if he had. So he'd invented a chore, had holed up in the barn, had waited for the light to go out inside the house.

  He'd waited and waited. It hadn't gone out.

  Then he'd caught a glimpse of her through the window. Lydia had stood in the kitchen wearing nothing but a skimpy nightgown. She'd been looking out toward the barn, looking for him.

  "Go to bed," he'd whispered. "Please, just go to bed."

  But she hadn't. She'd paced around. She'd disappeared into the other room only to come back to the window to peer out again.

  She'd waited – just as he had.

  He knew what she wanted.

  The same thing he wanted!

  The very thing he couldn't let happen. There was no way on God's earth he could make love to her – not when he had nothing to give in return.

  "I can't see Lydia havin' a problem with it," Gus said practically. "She's not a snob. You lose your nuts when you lost the ranch, J.D.?"

  Ducking instinctively was the only thing that saved Gus from winding up flat out on the floor. "Hey," he said when he straightened up, backing away, still grinning, but looking decidedly wary. "Just kidding, bro. You're way too touchy these days."

  J.D., fists still clenched, breath still coming quick and shallow, turned away. He stared out the window into the darkness. Across the way he could see the lights on in Taggart's place. Could see Taggart talking on the phone, could see his wife, Felicity, moving past. Could see a pair of running preschoolers.

  Could see a home. A family.

  "I'm sorry about the ranch." The words came through clenched teeth, dragged up from his toes. He owed Gus more than an apology, but it was all his brother was going to get.

  "No skin off my nose," Gus said easily. "I wasn't figurin' to come back, anyhow. I'll be here till the end of the week. Then I'll be gone again. You know me."

  "Yeah. Maybe I'll come with you."

  The spoon clattered to the floor. "What? You wanta ride broncs again? At your age?"

  "I'm not that old!"

  Gus looked doubtful. "Reckon you mighta landed on your bead once too often last time you came with me. I thought you were finished runnin' around. Thought you were settlin' down. You sure this doesn't have anything to do with Lydia Cochrane?"

  "No!"

  * * *

  Be prepared.

  It was not only the Boy Scout Marching Song, it was the lawyer's rule of thumb – the two-word motto Lydia lived by.

  She was prepared every day of her life. For every eventuality.

  She just hoped she was prepared for this.

  For seducing J.D. Holt.

  "Seducing J.D. Holt." She said the words aloud, as if hearing them spoken would make them more real, would make her more resolute.

  No, she was resolute enough. What she lacked was confidence.

  She'd never seduced a man in her life.

  "Never?" Claudia was astonished when Lydia admitted to it. She'd sought Claudia out in the café near to closing time. Now Claudia slapped a cup of coffee in front of her, looked at Lydia pityingly and shook her head.

  "It's not like I haven't lived a full life," Lydia protested tartly.

  "You haven't." Claudia was sure of that. "But you aren't dead yet, sweetheart. So there's still hope. Who you wanta seduce?"

  "We don't have to go into names, do we? I mean, a seduction is a seduction."

  Claudia snorted. "Not hardly. You gotta know the man. Gotta know what turns him on." She'd fluttered her mile-long lashes, and Lydia wished, not for the first time, that her own weren't such stubby little things. "So who's the stud?"

  Still Lydia hadn't been able to say his name, so Kristen, ever helpful, said it for her. "J.D. Holt."

  Claudia's eyes went as round as the fat blue dinner plates. "J.D.? Now there is one hot cowboy. Mmm-mmm." She practically licked her chops.

  "This was a bad idea," Lydia muttered under her breath to Kristen, who had come along to be sure Lydia didn't chicken out.

  Claudia stopped panting long enough to step back and narrow her eyes as she looked at Lydia.

  Lydia, feeling like a bug pinned to paper, looked at Claudia, then away. She gave serious thought to jumping up and running.

  "So you're the reason," Claudia said quite unexpectedly.

  "Reason?" Lydia looked at her blankly. "Reason for what?"

  "For J.D. sniffin' around my place, then takin' off with his jeans still zipped."

  Lydia was sure her jaw was dragging on the tabletop.

  Claudia shrugged. "Mighta known. H
e had that look about him."

  "What look?"

  "The lovesick pup look."

  Kristen grinned. "Told you!" she crowed.

  Lydia shook her head. "You're saying J.D. came to you to … to…" She turned to Kristen. "A very bad idea," she hissed.

  "Oh, me an' J.D. go back a long ways," Claudia said. "It don't mean nothin'. We're just friendly-like. Leastways we use' ta be. You wants seduce ol' J.D.?" She was grinning.

  "I don't—"

  "Yes, she does," Kristen said firmly.

  "Well, I can give you some hits," Claudia said. "An' they'll work if J.D. wants 'em to."

  "And if he doesn't?" Lydia said pessimistically.

  Claudia just smiled. "You gotta believe."

  * * *

  Believe you're sexy.

  That seemed to be the first commandment of Claudia Kileen.

  "How you gonna make him believe it, if you don't believe it yourself?" she asked flatly. "You gotta have confidence."

  That was commandment number two.

  "You gotta move slow and languorous-like," Claudia instructed, demonstrating as she swayed around her apartment while Lydia sat like a lump on the sofa and took notes. "Put away that fool paper and get up and try it," Claudia commanded.

  Feeling like a fool, Lydia got up. She sashayed. Like a giraffe. She knocked over a floor lamp.

  Claudia swallowed a groan. "Some things don't come natural-like, do they?"

  "No," Lydia said, righting the lamp. "They don't."

  "You gotta pretend he's watchin' you," Claudia explained. "Lyin' on the bed, lookin' up at you." Her voice got husky, slow, deep.

  Lydia thought about J.D. lying on a bed looking up at her. "I don't think I'm cut out for this," she said on a rising note of panic. "I think maybe I better just forget the whole thing." She started for the door.

  "Men don't like quitters," Claudia snapped.

  Lydia stopped. She looked back.

  Claudia held her gaze steadily from across the room. "Didn't ever think you were a quitter," she said.

  Lydia turned. She sashayed back across the room.