The Cattleman's Unsuitable Wife Read online

  “Yes,” she said, her sigh heartfelt. “Me, too.”

  “It’s hard—” he hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully “—it’s frustrating for the cattleman when flocks of sheep destroy his range. The grass is too valuable.”

  “It’s valuable for the sheep, too.”

  “But the sheep kill the grass, Zurina.” He heaved a terse breath. “Then there’s nothing left for the cattle. They lose weight. We lose money. The quality of the beef goes down, and the whole market suffers.”

  “Yes.” Many times, she had heard of these problems. “I have seen the range when the grass is eaten down to the roots. I understand how it is a bad thing.”

  “Worse than bad,” he muttered. “It’s intolerable.”

  “You must see the sheepman’s side of it, Trey.”

  “When I see a range stripped of grass, I see all I need to see.”

  She glowered. “Will you let me explain?”

  “I’ve heard every explanation there is by now, Zurina.” A muscle moved in his jaw. “But I’ll listen to yours.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You won’t change my mind about how I feel.”

  “I don’t expect it to be easy as that.”

  “All right. Go on, then. Give me your perspective.”

  At least he seemed willing to listen, and his urging for her to continue sounded genuine.

  “When the grass is chewed down to nothing, then it’s the sheepman’s fault,” she said. “He’s careless. Lazy.”

  Trey grunted. But he said nothing.

  “To save the grass, to respect it, he must keep moving the flock,” she continued. “He can’t let the sheep stay in one place too long.”

  “You think it’s that simple?”

  “I’ve seen it for myself, because that is how Papa tends our sheep in Sun River Valley. Every year, the grass grows thick there. The flock has all they need to eat.”

  “If that’s so, then why did you leave, Zurina?”

  His question hit home, and a ball of emotion welled in her throat. If only she hadn’t wanted to leave the valley that day a lifetime ago, then so much damage wouldn’t have been done. So many wouldn’t have been hurt.

  She avoided the intensity of Trey’s regard and feared now would be the time when he would forever banish the Vasco flocks from Sun River Valley.

  Except there was no Vasco flock. Not anymore.

  But if there were…

  “Papa didn’t want to leave,” she said in a voice hushed with regret. “I insisted because the flock needed water.”

  And because she’d been so persistent, Papa had given into her. Now Trey would have every right to revoke his agreement and forbid them from stepping foot in Sun River Valley again. By straying into forbidden range, Papa had betrayed Trey’s trust.

  But, of course, it didn’t matter anymore. They couldn’t graze a flock they didn’t have.

  “Zurina.”

  She couldn’t bring herself to look at Trey just yet. He would only be secretly glad she’d lost so many sheep, even though he’d try not to show it.

  “Look at me, Zurina.”

  She refused to ignore her pride and channeled her concentration on their surroundings. The clomp of the horses’ iron hooves against the rocky ground indicated they’d ridden higher into the mountains. The air had grown cooler, the forest of pines denser.

  “We must find a place to camp,” she said, changing the subject with a brisk tone. “It’ll turn dark up here soon. Very fast.”

  A moment passed. She could feel him watching her.

  “There’s a stream not far ahead,” he said finally. “We’ll bed down there.”

  Trey tugged on the reins and nudged his mount off the trail. Zurina took her time in following.

  We’ll bed down there.

  Her hand found Papa’s old rifle sheathed in its scabbard. Within easy reach. Her defense against Trey in case he tried to do something he shouldn’t.

  He was, after all, Sutton Wells’s son. And Zurina could never forget the terrible act the man had committed against her mother.

  Yet, a stubborn voice inside her insisted Trey was different. That he would never force himself on a woman like herself who lived and breathed sheep. He was too much of a cattleman, clear to his bones.

  So why did that pique her feminine pride? That Trey might not find her appealing? Even if he was a cattleman? Even if he was beholden to another?

  Zurina gritted her teeth at her fickle thoughts. Better that she be prepared to defend herself against the wild which roamed the slopes near Rogers Pass—wolves and mountain lions and oh, grizzly bears—than a powerful, stubborn cattleman.

  She spurred her horse into a hasty trot, and by the time she reached him, he’d already dismounted near the water’s edge. His chestnut quarter horse stood at the bank with his head dipped toward the crystal clear water. Stones glistened beneath the surface, and dappled sunlight winked over the shimmering current.

  Trey stepped toward Zurina and held the bridle while she dismounted. Her sweater shielded her from the crispness in the air, but it wouldn’t be long before the night turned downright cold.

  She tilted her head back to see him. “If you take care of the horses, I’ll gather some wood for a fire.”

  He nodded. “Sounds fair.”

  Yet she didn’t move.

  Neither did he.

  The darkening copper-brown glints in his eyes held her captive. An awareness seemed to spring between them, as if now that they were out of their saddles, standing close together like this, the reality of the night ahead had settled in. The knowledge they were together, just the two of them and no one else.

  His gaze wrapped around her and bound her in a mysterious velvety grip. She wondered why he had this power over her. And how.

  But he did. And he looked at her as if he wanted to swallow her whole.

  Zurina refused to let him think she was weak enough to allow him. Or too vulnerable. She refused to let him know how much he affected her.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked, reaching for the mundane. Something ordinary to shatter the spell.

  “Getting there.”

  His voice carried a seductive thread, and her imagination leaped into a wild interpretation of what he might really mean.

  Of what he didn’t say.

  She chastised herself for being so foolish, and the longer she stood here, the more foolish she’d get. She twisted to step around him, to seek refuge in the menial task of scavenging for firewood, but his lean fingers clasped her elbow. Preventing her.

  “Not so fast, Zurina,” he said.

  She yanked free of his hold. Arched her brow in surprise and demand. “What do you want?”

  His dark gaze roamed her face. “Stop blaming yourself for moving your sheep out of Sun River Valley.”

  He’d returned to the subject she’d wanted to avoid. Instant tears welled.

  How had he known she blamed herself? Had her regret, her despair, been so obvious?

  She would’ve stepped away to escape his perception, but his hand lifted, and his fingers curled around the back of her neck. She could no more flee him than sprout wings and fly, for the gentleness of his touch nearly proved to be her undoing.

  “Oh, Trey,” she whispered. “How can I not blame myself? Papa would never have left if it wasn’t for me.”

  “What happened on the range wasn’t your fault. No way could Woodrow have known you were going to be out there.”

  “But if Papa and I hadn’t been, Woodrow wouldn’t have killed the sheep.”

  “And he wouldn’t have kidnapped Allethaire.”

  Zurina bit her lip. Her misery deepened. “No.”

  “He took advantage of an opportunity, Zurina. That’s all.”

  Trey’s thumb caressed the line of her jaw, and her knees went soft. Was she so hungry for his touch, his comfort, that he could affect her like this?

  “A damned shame what happened,” Trey said, his low voi
ce grim. “I don’t have the answers yet, but I will when I find him. One thing I know for sure. Woodrow has a vendetta against me. And he’s using Allethaire to help satisfy it.”

  “Yes.”

  “So is Mikolas.”

  Zurina’s eyes closed. “Yes.”

  Gently, firmly, Trey cupped the back of her head and pulled her against him. She sank into his warmth, his strength. At the moment, she had none of her own.

  “If you and Gabirel hadn’t been camped along the Missouri with Allethaire, Woodrow would’ve found another way to hit at me,” Trey rumbled. His lips moved against her hair. “It would’ve just been a matter of time.”

  Zurina sighed into his shirt. Clung to his logic and prayed that it was true. “Maybe.”

  Trey slid his hand up her spine. And down again. Slow, easy strokes that melted her worries. Bolstered her flagging spirits.

  And made her much too aware of how much she needed to be with him. Absorb his strength. His warmth. To share her worries and fears.

  “It’s a helluva shame your sheep got caught in the middle of all this. I’m not sure how your brother fits in, either, Zurina, but neither he nor Woodrow will hurt Allethaire until they get their ransom money. Which means right now, until we meet them down at Wolf Creek tomorrow night, we’re holding all the cards. They’re just waiting for us to make the next deal.”

  Struck by how he included her in his plans, a strategy that went beyond her leading him to Rogers Pass, she drew back.

  “We?” she asked softly.

  “That’s right.” The coppery glints in his shadowed orbs darkened like burned cinnamon. “You’ve got a score to settle, just like I do. We’ll do it together.” His thumb lifted. Traced the shape of her lips. They parted, and a craving to taste his skin, to draw his thumb into her mouth, welled in some secret part of her she’d kept banked for too long. “But first we have to call a truce.”

  Distracted by his bold caress, the way it inspired such forbidden, foolish longings, she had to scramble to follow his thinking.

  “What kind of truce?” she murmured.

  “No more squabbling about our differences.”

  “Cattle and sheep.”

  “From here on out, we’re on equal terms.”

  “Hmm.” Did he think it would be so easy?

  “And one more thing.”

  At some point, her body had pressed itself to his. Thigh to thigh. Hip to hip. A new craving to feel more of him. Illicit and strong.

  His arm pressed at the back of her waist, pulled her against the thickening of his groin.

  “We seal our deal with a kiss,” he said.

  Chapter Twelve

  T rey heard her quick inhalation of breath. Her slim body stiffened against him, and she would’ve pulled away if his arm hadn’t banded tighter to keep her from it.

  “What game are you playing with me, Trey?” she asked.

  The slight knit to her brows hinted his suggestion had wounded her pride. He’d come to know her well enough to understand she’d think he only wanted to take advantage of her, considering they were all alone on this part of the mountain.

  “No game.” He made sure he sounded sincere. Because he was. “Asking you to kiss me is the same as asking you to trust me. I figure it’s going to cost you plenty to kiss a cattleman, and if you can do that, we can work together on putting aside our differences.”

  “Really?” Her voice sounded cool. Skeptical.

  “Going to be extra hard to track down Woodrow and Mikolas if we’re thinking the worst of each other all the time.”

  She fiddled with the button on his shirt and seemed to make a pointed effort to keep from looking at him. “I don’t think the worst of you so much anymore.”

  Well, then. He’d made some progress with her. She didn’t hate him as much as she’d like to think.

  The notion pleased him. She’d come to mean something to him, too.

  Since she didn’t seem inclined to push him away, he took the liberty of lowering his head. He nuzzled her hair—and thought of the wind on a spring day. She trembled, ever so faintly. A sign she wasn’t unaffected by his touch, and that pleased him, too.

  “C’mon, Zurina. Kiss me,” he whispered and ran his tongue along the curve of her ear. “Just a little kiss to show you trust me.”

  Her head lifted to finally meet his glance; her fingers stilled over his button.

  “What of Allethaire?” she asked quietly.

  No one knew better than Trey how the woman everyone expected him to marry stood between him and Zurina and a whole wagonload of lust. But Allethaire had long since lost her place in his heart, in his life. Zurina wouldn’t know that, but the realization had never been clearer to Trey than now, while he held her in his arms.

  Allethaire could never be who he needed her to be. A woman who thought less of herself and more of those who needed her. A woman like Zurina—capable of fierce loyalty, immeasurable compassion, gentle nurturing. Who knew what it meant to be loved and who loved back with every fiber of her being.

  Trey had witnessed the way Zurina loved. So had Gabirel, Mikolas, and all the other Basques who knew her. Without knowing she was, she made Trey realize what he’d missed—growing up without a female to take care of him, keep him important in her life—and it was a woman like her he wanted forever at his side.

  “I’m not in love with her,” he said firmly. Without hesitation. “I never have been.”

  Her brows shot up. “What?”

  “I’ve already canceled our engagement.”

  Her breath caught. “You have?”

  “So forget her.”

  “How can I?”

  “Because I’m asking you to.”

  She blinked up at him in wary disbelief.

  “One more thing to trust me about,” he added.

  From here on out, he’d walk a different road. One headed toward a future without Allethaire. And the kiss he wanted with Zurina wasn’t going to happen while he stood here, rationalizing.

  Trey knew Zurina was entitled to a full explanation, and he’d give her one.

  Later.

  The time had come to take what he wanted. What they both wanted.

  Now.

  A melding of trust. Of desire and need.

  He tightened his embrace to bring her full against him and groaned at the feel of her slender, feminine body. He took her mouth with an explosion of hunger. Her lips, soft and full and a little tremulous, lit a hot, sweet fire in him too long banked. Too long restrained.

  Zurina pressed into him, lifted her hands and curled her arms around his neck. As if her balance had shifted, as if she hovered on the brink of drowning in a sensation he alone made her feel. As if she cared nothing for what should be and what wasn’t.

  Before Allethaire, Trey had been with his share of women, but none affected him like this Basque beauty who knew little of society’s airs and pretenses. Of bargains and marriages made for mutual benefit.

  Zurina was freshness. Honesty and purity. Trey’s need to experience more of her deepened, widened, demanded. His mouth opened over hers. His tongue glided over her lips in a persistent plea to satisfy the need. To quench his growing lust for more.

  A tiny sound slid up from her throat. Acquiescence, primitive and pure. Her lips parted, and his tongue delved inward to the velvety depths, curled over hers, slid and rolled in a moist, hot dance that turned his breathing ragged and left her mouth swollen and wet.

  Zurina drew back, dragged in air. “Trey. Oh God, Trey.”

  Was it guilt he heard when she spoke his name?

  He angled his head and pressed ragged kisses along her jaw and into the curve of her neck. Distracting her from the guilt. The doubt. Erasing it all from her mind.

  Her head tilted, her eyes closed. One hand fisted in his hair while the other clung to his shoulder. Her body fused itself to his. As if her bones had melted. As if her muscles had turned to mush.

  “Zurina, let me make love to you.” He
sounded pathetically needy, even to his own ears. He was moving too fast, wanting too much, but there was no help for it. No stopping the lust raging inside him. “Now. Here, now.”

  “No, we must not.” Despite her protest, she arched her neck, accommodating his journey to her collarbone, to taste her skin at the hollow of her throat. “We cannot, Trey.”

  Her words sounded wrenched. Reluctant. Decidedly firm. He might’ve admired her restraint if his own wasn’t at the breaking point.

  “I want to know you. All of you.” His hand slipped beneath her thick sweater and found delicious warmth through her cotton blouse. Traveled over her ribs, too, and captured the perfect shape of a breast, loose inside her shift. His fingers flexed over the supple globe of flesh. Fondled, savored. “Let me, Zurina.”

  Her breath caught, and the tiny sound told him no man had ever had the privilege of touching her like he was touching her now. And if that wasn’t trust…

  His lust raged higher. He had only to shift their stances, take her with him down to the ground. Woo her with a sweet seduction that would fan the flames already burning in their blood.

  “Stop, Trey.”

  She pushed against him and twisted out of his embrace. His lusty thoughts skittered to a halt.

  “Zurina.” He could scarcely manage more than a croaking of her name. “Zurina, sweetheart.”

  “I am not your sweetheart. Allethaire is.” Her fingers shook while they righted her sweater. She took another step back from him, for good measure. “We are wrong to betray her.”

  The flames inside him sputtered. Sheer control kept him from reaching for her again. “I told you. I’m not going to marry her.”

  “Now you say so. And they are easy words to say, eh? When you’re rutting like a pig for another woman.”

  He didn’t appreciate the phrasing. “It’s not like that, Zurina. And you know it.”

  “You got your kiss.” Her throat moved with the admission, as if she regretted giving into him. “Now you must not ask anything more of me.”

  Trey gritted his teeth and refused to make promises he had no intention of keeping. She strode away, into the shadows of the pines, leaving his ardor cooling while he tended the horses.