Название: One Tall, Dusty Cowboy
Автор: Stella Bagwell
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Men of the West
isbn: 9781472048479
isbn:
Behind him, the blue roan nudged his hand and he affectionately curled his arm around the horse’s nose and tucked it against his side.
“So how is Gramps doing?”
“I’m proud of him. He’s trying very hard.”
“Gramps never was a quitter. Has he been giving you a hard time?”
The way he asked the question made it sound as though he’d be glad to intervene on her behalf. Like a gallant knight ready to defend her. The notion touched her and she couldn’t stop a small smile from curling her lips.
“Contrary to what you or others might think, your grandfather has been very sweet to me. Even when I’m ordering him to do more.”
Disbelief appeared in his eyes. “Dad implied you were a miracle worker. He must be right.”
She shouldn’t let his casual compliment affect her, but it did. Her job was her life. To be praised for her effort, even by Rafe Calhoun, felt good.
He and Roscoe drew closer and suddenly Lilly couldn’t keep her eyes off him. There was something so vibrant and male about his rugged features that she forgot to breathe and very nearly forgot to think.
“Thanks, but I’m just doing my job,” she told him. “And your grandfather and I just happened to hit it off.”
Leaning his head through the open window, he said, “Well, actually, I had another motive for stopping you.”
For some ridiculous reason her gaze settled on his lips and immediately the image of kissing him danced into her thoughts. Would he taste as rough and tough and male as he looked? she wondered. Oh, Lord, she had to quit looking. Had to quit fantasizing.
“And what was that?” she asked.
He grinned and Lilly decided the slightly crooked line of his teeth matched the rest of him. Raw, natural and untamed.
“I wanted to let you know that I took your advice and had a talk with the man in the mirror. But he didn’t know a Romeo.”
“You’re incorrigible!”
He chuckled. “I can dance, too. Why don’t we go out this evening and I’ll show you?”
Inwardly groaning, she asked herself how she’d managed to get herself into this predicament. Instead of stopping on the road, she should’ve floored the gas pedal and left the man and his horse in the dust.
“Sorry, but I have to work tonight.”
“Okay, then tomorrow night,” he persisted.
“I have to work then, too.”
He rolled his eyes. “Is there a night you don’t have to work?”
If she lied about her work schedule, she might stand a chance of getting rid of this man’s attentions once and for all. But lying to Rafe didn’t appeal to her and if she was being totally honest with herself, she didn’t want to get rid of him. For the first time in years, he was making her feel excited. Making her remember that she was more than a nurse; she was a woman.
Her heart suddenly jumped into a fast, reckless rhythm. “Monday is my night off.”
“Great! I’ll pick you up at seven.”
She gave him her address, then seeing he had no way to write it down, she asked, “Will you remember that?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll find you.”
Lifting a hand in farewell, he moved away from the car and swung himself into the saddle and all Lilly could do was watch him gallop away. What was she getting herself into? she wondered.
And why couldn’t she resist finding out...?
For the next three days, Lilly vacillated between wanting to kick herself or pat herself on the back for being brave enough to accept a date with Rafe Calhoun.
Since the morning he’d run her down on the road, like some scene out of a Western movie, she’d fought against the urge to ask around about the man. Most people in her circle of friends and coworkers didn’t rub elbows with the rich Calhoun family, so whatever they told her about Rafe would be little more than hearsay.
Ironically, she was the only one who’d had any actual association to the family. Seven years ago, Rafe’s mother, Claudia, had befriended her when she’d desperately needed someone to lean on. Lilly had never told anyone about the chance meeting between her and the matriarch of the Silver Horn ranch, or the friendship that had resulted from it. That time in her life was too painful to share with anyone. And Claudia had since died. But Lilly’s friendship with the woman still lived in her heart and that had been the main reason she’d agreed to take on the job of Bart Calhoun’s therapy.
Normally, the hands of the clock spun too quickly for Lilly. Work kept her rushing to find enough time in the day to get necessary chores around the house done and errands about town completed. But as Monday evening arrived, it felt to Lilly as though time began to crawl.
By the time Rafe finally arrived a few minutes before seven, she’d worked herself up into a nervous frenzy. But in spite of her nerves, she did her best to appear cool and collected when she answered the door.
“Good evening, Lilly.”
“Hello, Rafe. Would you like to come in?”
“I’d love to.”
She opened the door wider and as he stepped over the threshold Lilly was a bit overwhelmed by the change in his appearance. Instead of worn chaps and a battered hat, he was dressed in dark, Western-cut slacks. A crisp white shirt was buttoned at his throat and topped with a bolo tie fashioned from a turquoise rock, while a black felt hat dangled from his hand. If James Bond were a cowboy, he’d have to look like Rafe, Lilly decided.
He handed her a long, slim box full of expensive chocolates. “I hope you like sweets.”
“Unfortunately, I love them. Thank you.” She put the box down on a nearby coffee table then gestured for him to take a seat. “Do we have time for a drink? I have tea or coffee. But nothing to make a cocktail.”
“If I’d known you were going to be this hospitable I would have made a point of coming earlier,” he joked, then pushed back the cuff of his shirt to peer at a gold watch on his wrist. “But I don’t want us to lose our reservations. I’ll take a rain check on the drink, if you don’t mind.”
“Surely. Just let me get my bag and wrap.”
She left for the bedroom and when she returned with her things, Rafe was standing in front of a wall table where several photos of family and friends were arranged on a white lace doily.
“Is this your parents?” he asked, pointing to one particular photo.
“Yes. About twenty СКАЧАТЬ