Cheyenne Dad. Sheri WhiteFeather

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СКАЧАТЬ deal. No love. No sex. That’s hardly a real marriage.”

      Dakota’s heart nearly stopped.

      No sex?

      “You can’t be serious.”

      The stern look she shot him said otherwise. She was serious, all right. She had no intention of sleeping with him.

      Dakota righted his posture as a hot fist of anger clenched his gut. Anger to mask the pain, he thought. The disappointment. The horrible rejection.

      Did she have any idea how long he had struggled to regain the use of his body? Two years. Twenty-four months of promising himself Annie Winters would be his reward at the end of long, grueling road. She was supposed to become his lover, the woman he would stroke and caress, hold on to at night.

      “Fine, Annie. Whatever.” He wasn’t about to beg for his conjugal rights. He’d suffered enough humiliation.

      She breathed what sounded like a sigh of relief, and he cursed what he was about to become—a man with a gorgeous wife and a nonexistent love life.

      As Annie watched Dakota walk across the airport terminal, the butterflies in her stomach fluttered. He moved like a cowboy—long, lean and just a little bit mean. With a duffel bag slung over his arm, a Stetson dipped over his eyes and Wranglers hugging him like a well-worn glove, he drew plenty of attention. Somehow the slight limp rather added to his don’t-mess-with-me charm.

      “There he is.” Mary Graywolf leaned forward. “Hmm. He doesn’t look too happy, does he?”

      Annie tilted her head. He looked about as ornery as the bulls he used to ride. She had the feeling Dakota wasn’t particularly pleased about the no-sex clause in their marriage, but she knew their union would end once the adoption was finalized. Although grateful for his loyalty to the children, she wasn’t about to allow Dakota Graywolf to have some fun with her, then toss her aside.

      “You know how moody your big brother can be.”

      “No kidding. Just look at that macho attitude.”

      Mary rolled her eyes, and Annie nibbled on a smile. She adored Mary. Her dear friend, Annie had decided long ago, was the only good that had come out of her father’s short-lived career.

      Annie’s dad and Mary’s dad had been rodeo buddies, often traveling the same circuit, a teenage Dakota in tow. So consequently, after Annie’s dad had died, she’d spent youthful summers in Montana with the Graywolf family. The Graywolfs, it seemed, had influenced her life for nearly two decades now. It was through them that she had also met Jill.

      Annie turned her attention back to Dakota. He strode toward them, dropped his bag onto the chair beside Mary, then glared down at his sister. She stood and glared back at him. The siblings looked like gunslingers preparing to draw.

      He fired first. “What are you, the chaperone?”

      She flipped the brim of his hat. “That’s right. I’m here to make sure you behave yourself.”

      “Great.” He slipped the hat back down. “Just what I need. My bossy sister along on what’s supposed to be my honeymoon.”

      Ignoring both women, Dakota slumped onto a chair and crossed his arms over his chest, long legs stretched out before him.

      Mary sat down as well. “They’ll probably let us board soon.”

      “Wonderful.” Dakota didn’t try to mask the sarcasm in his tone.

      Annie leaned over. “Hello, Kody,” she said, using the nickname the boys had given him. She wasn’t about to let his sour attitude intimidate her. They certainly couldn’t snarl at each other in front of the children, so they may as well learn to be polite now. “It’s nice to see you.”

      He reached into his front pocket for a cigarette. The Western shirt boasted whipcord trim and a pearl-snap placket. “Yeah, squirt. Likewise.”

      Annie studied his brooding posture. How tall was the man who still insisted on calling her squirt? Well over six feet. Of course, the black hat and scuffed leather boots intensified his threatening demeanor. Even seated, he looked rough and rangy.

      “It’s a nonsmoking flight,” Mary said when Dakota lit up.

      He scowled. “Do we look like we’re on the plane yet?”

      Annie noticed he inhaled as though savoring each drag, a reminder that she would have to enforce the No Smoking rule at home. She insisted on a healthy environment for the kids. Dakota would just have to smoke outside.

      He stamped out his cigarette when their flight number was called. As he stood, a huddle of attractive young women craned their necks. For some odd reason Annie wanted to scratch their eyes out. Sex or no sex, he’d still be her husband.

      Temporary husband, she amended, calming herself. Six months, tops. Annie chewed her bottom lip, then glanced at Dakota. It wasn’t as though she was purposely deceiving Harold. The children would always have Dakota as a father. But common sense told her the adoption would outlive the marriage. Free-spirited men, much like leopards, didn’t change their spots. Dakota Graywolf would be pining for his freedom in no time.

      They shuffled into a line and waited for the passengers who either required assistance or were traveling with small children to board first.

      After a frazzled woman boarded with her active toddler, Dakota turned to Annie. “You know, I was thinking that there’s no need for you to take the kids to a baby-sitter this summer. I can watch them.”

      Disbelief widened her eyes. “But what about your work? Don’t you have orders to fill?” Since Dakota had retired from the rodeo, he’d turned his silversmith hobby into a business. She knew he planned to set up a workshop in her garage.

      He adjusted the duffel bag. “Sure, but how much trouble can three little rug rats be?”

      Annie caught Mary’s raised eyebrow and they both erupted into one of their giggling fits. The “rug rats,” ages two, five and eight, each had their own special personality. Besides being adorable—possessive, serious and rambunctious described them to a T.

      “What’s so funny?” he asked between clenched teeth.

      “You.” Mary bumped his shoulder with a sisterly shove. A psychology major with a minor in theater arts, Mary analyzed everyone and offered advice without being asked. “You have no idea what supervising small children is like. You haven’t seen the boys in two years. Maybe you should consider easing into fatherhood.”

      “I call the kids all the time,” Dakota argued. “Every week.”

      Mary continued to chuckle. “That doesn’t mean they’re going to behave while you work.”

      He dismissed her opinion with the wave of his hand. “Yeah? Just wait and see.” He cocked his head toward Annie. “You, too, squirt.”

      Annie ceased her laughter. How many times a day must that annoying nickname surface?

      They boarded the plane and sat three across. Dakota ended up in the middle because Mary wanted to look out the window and Annie preferred the aisle.

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