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Ride, tents? Jimi nearly screeched with building frustration but bit her lip. Panicked, she looked around at the other guests, clearly the only one who thought this whole trip to a Hawaiian ranch was a bad idea. The silver lining of only moments before had suddenly turned very dark and stormy.
She wanted to bolt right back down the road they’d just driven up but, seeing the dust settle from the long-gone bus, knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Desperation overwhelmed her and she had to fight back the dread starting to set in. When tears sprang to her eyes, she was horrified. Jimi blinked furiously to stop any tear leakage that would further embarrass her not to mention smudge her mascara. She had to be here, though, for Diana.
Jimi straightened her back and drew in a shaky breath. She had no idea how she was going to face Diana or make do without any clothes, toiletries and the like. Somehow, she’d just have to man up. Surely there would be some kind of shop here where she could get the basics until her bag arrived. Fuck.
* * *
DALLAS WAS AT home in the saddle, and he was happy with the posse of wedding guests riding behind him. He’d never get enough of seeing all the excited faces when they stepped off the bus. It didn’t matter how many years he’d been doing this, it never got old. Sharing his love of Hawaii, his ranch and all aspects of it was what he’d been born for. The Wilde family had been running this spread for over a century. Dallas looked at it as being a custodian of the land, honoring it as best he could. A caretaker. He was proud of his heritage and he’d encouraged his father and siblings to open their ranch to the public, to share with others. He hadn’t been wrong and their business of eco-camping had really taken flight. Only this trip wasn’t eco-camping. It was glamping. He shook his head ruefully. Glamping, of all things!
He thought of the blonde woman. She didn’t fit the normal Broken Creek guest profile. When he’d first laid eyes on her he’d nearly forgotten his memorized speech. The wind had blown her hair across her face and she’d swept it away with slender fingers. Elegance had oozed from her and he could hardly imagine her holidaying at a ranch let alone riding a horse. That aside, he’d checked her out, from the tip of her sunny blond head, down her lean and fit body to her long and shapely legs, which he’d love to have wrapped around his hips.
No way would she be able to sit a horse in that tight sheath of a dress. But, Lord, he appreciated how fine she looked in it. And just like that he had a hankering to see that body naked. His groin tightened imagining her standing before him with nothing on but those killer shoes. He’d never seen such a razor heel and could almost feel the sharp stab of them in his ass as if she were under him as he banged her.
Those shoes were the damned sexiest things he’d seen in the longest time and a complete contradiction to the boots and runners on the other ladies around her. All guests were told to bring shoes or boots with heels. This siren had certainly got that wrong in such a right way, and he knew he had to defuse this growing spark of interest. She looked every bit the prima donna.
And he made a point of keeping the divas at a good distance.
But, still, this one mystified him. She oozed a sensuality that made his cock sit up and take notice and elegance he shied from. A poor fit for the likes of him and totally not suitable for a rough-and-tumble interlude. Now the sensuality part...that was a whole other kettle of fish. She had a frosty exterior that made him wonder if in bed she’d be just as chilly or as sizzling hot as the Hawaiian sun. Dallas felt a flash of disappointment that he wouldn’t be finding out the answer to that.
Best he steer clear of this tempting woman, even though every cell in his body wanted to try to melt this glacial filly. She spelled high maintenance and was not worth the trouble. Not his type. At. All. But, shit, he wanted a taste of her.
A shout from behind snapped him out of the rabbit hole he’d just fallen down. Dallas twisted in his saddle, scanned down the line of riders to make sure everyone was still doing fine. The wranglers would follow up the rear, so he wasn’t too worried about losing anyone. But having forty guests was a little out of his comfort zone. Matt, the groom, was an old university friend. It surprised the hell out of him that his fiancée had agreed to a ranch wedding. He’d never met her but had heard stories about her. Girls’ weekend away in Vegas. Jetting off to Bahamas and Paris. So this didn’t really fit the persona he’d assumed for her.
Dallas huffed to himself, still not convinced marriage was the right thing to do. At least for him. Especially after being jilted at the altar. No sirree. Maybe, he reckoned, if kids were involved. But it seemed rather pointless to enter into a commitment that likely would bust up before long. He could count on one hand the number of marriages that had gone past the three-year mark. Anyway, he’d do whatever it took to make Matt and Diana’s wedding day dreams come true. Even if he didn’t believe in happily-ever-after. Women wanted to change a man to their liking, not accept him for who he was. Unlike men, who only want women to accept them for who they are and not try to change them.
“Another half hour and we’ll be there,” Dallas shouted, and bit back a smile at the chorus of groans.
Diana was insistent about comfort for the guests. Which meant he had to upscale all the prospector tents to a more glamping style. He shook his head, not understanding that at all.
The grove of trees beyond a wide, rolling meadow wasn’t far-off. He liked it there with the pretty waterfall ringed by ancient and craggy lava rock. He’d chosen it especially for the camp as it was a protected location should extreme weather blow in. He sighed and wished they were there already so he could get the group settled and let the wedding planner take over.
Dallas patted Sweeny’s neck. “I’ll take you over a group of uncomfortable wedding guests any day.” As if the horse knew what he said, Sweeny tossed her head, nickered in agreement and pranced sideways like they were the hottest couple in town. He chuckled and let her have her little moment of play. He’d be retiring her after this trip and breeding her.
He ran his fingers through her mane and hoped that she’d throw a good foal that would mature into a horse just as fine as she. Unlike the mare he was waiting on to foal anytime now. She was a Thoroughbred and covered by American Prince, a Triple Crown winner and Dallas’s step into the racing world on the mainland. He was determined to give it a try, regardless of the chiding remarks his siblings made. He could handle it, mostly by ignoring them. It would take dedication and money to make it a go, money he’d worked hard to save. He didn’t know a woman who wanted anything to do with the racing world. Fine thing, too, since he didn’t need any added complications.
He hadn’t entertained the idea of a committed relationship since...well, he’d rather not think of her. She’d soured him. Long since over her now, he’d learned a valuable lesson from that experience. Women were selfish creatures and told you what you wanted to hear before snagging you. Then expected you to put their wants and needs first. He hadn’t met a woman yet who was willing to compromise and be a true partner. Sure, he’d dated, had a few flings and been hounded, too, but he was a confirmed bachelor, and he was pretty sure there was no woman who could make him consider otherwise.
Dallas looked up at the sky. Sunset wasn’t too far off and he’d hoped to have all the guests bedded down in time for them to watch from Sunset Ridge while the BBQ was prepared. No luau tonight—they were saving that for the wedding feast. Horsetail clouds winged in the sky, foretelling a change in weather. He furrowed his brows. Nothing significant had shown up on the radar last he checked, but that could change at the drop of a hat here on the island. The sky spoke to him better than any sort of technology. And it was telling him a different story. Storm coming.
Stress knotted at the back of his neck, but he refused to consider the possibility of weather ruining the wedding trip. He wouldn’t say anything to the happy couple yet. Tomorrow was a riding trip to the beach, which made him think of the blonde woman—and his cock told him it was just as eager to see her prancing on the sand in a bikini as he was—then the wedding party rehearsal in the evening. The next day a wedding breakfast for everyone, and the ceremony in the afternoon with an evening luau only to ride back down the following day. Seemed like a colossal waste of time to him, but it was revenue in the bank for them.
He pulled Sweeny up in front of the river and called to the riders behind him. “This is our last crossing, folks. Remember to keep moving through the water and don’t let your horse get his head down.”
Sweeny stepped into the water with no need for Dallas to cluck her. She knew the drill. The water ran belly deep under the horses, slow moving and crystal clear. He hoped they didn’t get surprised by any rain over the next three days; otherwise, it would make things mighty difficult.
2 (#u7ba46647-e161-5285-a264-fb6e88c7a96e)
JIMI DID HER best to keep calm even if she was roaring inside with frustration. She chewed on her finger and stared at the clothes generously donated by the other guests. She truly was thankful and would make sure she said so later. Looking forlornly around the tent that would be hers for the next three nights, Jimi fought back tears and breathed deeply. She had no idea what Diana was thinking, having a wedding here. Jimi hadn’t been in a tent since she’d left the commune when she was of age.
Sorting through the clothes, she picked out a shirt and jeans that looked like they might fit. The plaid shirt and jeans would be way too big. The strip of baling twine would have to work as a belt. Holy hell, she felt like Elly May Clampett, and might as well just put her hair up in pigtails.
She opened her purse and fingered her compact, afraid to look at herself. But she did and gasped. How would she ever get through this week without her makeup kit, moisturizer and hair products? But it wasn’t the end of the world, right? She’d been an earthy girl before, and she could give it a whirl again.
Jimi stared wistfully at her Louboutins, tossed aside when she’d kicked them off. They certainly looked out of place on the rustic wooden floor.
She shrugged off her dress, now almost beyond saving, and stood in her bra and panties. Jimi sighed as the fresh breeze blew through the tent, cooling her heated skin. The air smelled wonderful. Clean, crisp, fragrant and with a tinge of coolness that was a relief from the heat. She almost felt her stress and upset seeping out of her body, slowly rolling down her legs, over her feet and into the floor. Almost as if the ground sucked the negative energy out of her. She eyed the boots she’d been given, not wanting to put them on. It felt too good going barefoot, and she wiggled her toes when a rush of childhood memories came at her. Jimi distracted herself, refusing to remember.
A rustle outside the tent made her jump and she spun around. Jimi’s heart nearly burst out of her chest when she saw standing at her tent opening the drop-dead-sexy cowboy from earlier. She couldn’t read the expression on his face, but his mouth seemed to tighten and his eyes were heavy with an intensity that made her belly clench. He didn’t look away from her. Instead, he met her gaze, then looked her up and down. More than once. She felt the heat in his stare as if he’d branded her. His searing look sent her body into turmoil, and her knees wobbled.
Jimi froze. It wasn’t that she couldn’t move—she didn’t want to. She tingled under his hooded gaze, feeling vulnerable, exposed and, yes, terribly excited. If she moved she might break this magically erotic moment. There was something about this man that made her want to throw caution to the wind.
Jimi wanted to say something witty and charming, enticing, but found her mouth suddenly dry and her tongue stuck to the back of her teeth. “Ah...” She cleared her throat. “Um...”
He touched his fingers to his hat and nodded. “I apologize, ma’am.” His deep voice did all sorts of naughty sensual teasing to her senses. She wanted him to keep talking, this cowboy who had completely caught her in his ropes.
Jimi shook her head and stepped toward him, totally forgetting she was close to naked. “It’s fi—”
She nearly stumbled when he walked toward her tent and placed a foot on the step in front of the raised floor. Then he filled the opening. Was he coming in? Oh, God, please do! He leaned in and reached to the side, yanking on a strap that released the tent flap she’d totally forgotten to drop down. He didn’t let it fall right away, holding it for a few moments, his eyes never leaving hers.
Jimi melted. She felt her nipples rise against the lacy material of her bra, sending all sorts of wake-up signals straight down to her clitoris. She didn’t give one whit that his eyes flickered down to her breasts before snaring hers again. Suddenly she wanted this man with a yearning that made her heart quicken.
The silence stretched. He seemed to loom bigger in the doorway, dwarfing everything else around him. Jimi hadn’t realized just how large and muscled he was when he’d spoken earlier. Now, close enough for her to take only a few steps and be able to fall into his arms, she trembled as his presence filled the little tent. Lord, she wanted to be wrapped in the strength of those big, powerful arms. The animal magnetism of this man had her ready to step off her very straight, narrow path and fall right into the tangle of the dark jungle.
“Ma’am. Remember to close the tent, keep unwanted critters out.” And he gave her a crooked smile.
Then he dropped the tent flap and was gone, leaving her breathless and feeling empty. Jimi didn’t move, now feeling utterly foolish, realizing she’d been in sight for anyone to see had they walked by her tent. Plus, she’d just stood there, close to naked in front of a strange, albeit very sexy, man. What must he think? She quickly pulled on the plaid shirt. Embarrassment rushed through her, followed by anger that she’d been placed in this frustratingly dumb situation in the first place.
* * *
DALLAS COULDN’T BELIEVE his eyes. A vision like that wasn’t something you saw every day. He’d grown used to the daily ritual of horses, ranch hands and mountains. In all the years he’d been running the guest ranch, never had he walked by a tent to see a near naked and fantastically gorgeous woman. He’d watched her for only a few moments. Just long enough for his cock to sit up and take notice, and make him feel like a Peeping Tom. Hell, could you blame a man? Standing in her lacy and very sheer ivory bra and panties for all the world to see was totally unexpected. He was captivated.
He couldn’t look away from her, like a lioness ready to pounce. Her blond curls fell wild around her shoulders and down her back. His fingers twitched with the urge to bury his fingers in the silky strands. Her almost virginal image oozed an untamed sexuality that reached deep down inside and grabbed him by the balls. Her smoking-hot body was anything but virginal—made for pleasure. And he’d be at the front of the line if given the opportunity. Shit, hadn’t he told himself she was untouchable and for a few very good reasons? One being a risky business fraternizing with guests. It took a few minutes to gather his wits before he could move and react in a gentlemanly fashion. Dropping the tent flap had been his salvation before he’d stalked off to check the horses. A fine excuse to try to rid his mind of the imprint she’d made on it and his dick wanting something that likely would never happen.
Dallas sucked in a breath and knew it was no use. The image of her would be seared into his memory for the rest of his days. He also knew the only way he stood a chance to get her out of his blood was to bang her. But his gut told him that would only whet his appetite, making him want her more.
He entered the barn and wandered down the center between the horses. Their wide standing stalls either side of him ran the length of the shed row. Dallas had had the structure built a few years back to house up to fifty horses and storage for a couple hundred bales of hay. The peaked roof and no sides kept the weather and sun out, but the breeze from the ocean flowed freely. He’d also had storm shutters built into the roof that could be dropped down easily. He hoped like hell they wouldn’t be needed on this trip. All the horses faced in, so it was easy to feed and water them.
“Hey, boss. We’re all set,” John said, tossing a few more flakes of hay into the last couple of stalls. He’d finished bedding down the horses for the night.
Dallas rechecked the ties and rubbed the forehead of every horse he walked by on his way to John. He loved the comforting sounds of their contented munching and their earthy scent. He loved everything about horses.
“Good job. Everything for the wedding all ready?”
“I guess so. I’m steering clear of all that hullabaloo. It’s chaos, I tell ya, and I want no part of it.”
Dallas laughed and nodded. “I’m with you there, buddy. Listen, keep it all tight, though. I have a feeling we’ll be getting some rain.”
John walked out from under the gabled roof and looked to the sky. “Ya think? Only thing that showed up on radar was about three hundred miles offshore, tropical-storm status but not heading this way.”
Dallas nodded. “Still, keep an eye on the sky. A little bit of rain won’t hurt anybody, but if that storm shifts and intensifies we’ll be stuck up here.”
John grunted his agreement as he walked away and said over his shoulder, “Time to get that barbecue fired up. Oh, hey, Tucker wanted me to tell you he was heading up.”
Dallas nodded. His brother usually joined them, but wasn’t sure if he’d be on island soon enough. He was also friends with Matt, and did his damnedest to get chickenshit Matt to surf. Now Diana had put a complete stop to that activity, saying it was far too dangerous. Dallas shook his head and was glad he’d managed to sidestep any long-term commitments where women were concerned.
He lingered with the horses. They were his spirit animal and he felt best when hanging with them. He was here as a wedding guest as well, not just as a boss or ranch owner, but it was hard to not oversee everything. All these people up here were his responsibility in the long run and he wanted them to have the best time in order for them to spread the word about Broken Creek and bring in new business.
“Excuse me.”
Dallas paused, his hand on the forehead of the gray gelding. Both he and the horse turned in unison toward the female voice.
Dallas sensed who it was. His heart thumped in his chest like a smitten boy, which he was none too happy about. The woman who only moments before had stood close to naked in her tent walked toward him, her fingers tucked into her jeans front pocket. They were way too big for her, and so was the plaid shirt. He noticed she had bare feet. He raised his eyebrows, not expecting to see bare toes. But he liked it—maybe she wasn’t so high maintenance after all. It definitely made her much more intriguing even though he didn’t want to be intrigued. Or tempted.
Her tits jiggled under the top. Was she still wearing that see-through bra? Even with the baggy jeans and baler twine for a belt, her curves left little to the imagination. Her hips moved with an enticing sway that made him want to grab them and haul her up tight to him. Heat boiled down into his balls and he shifted his feet.
“Yes, hello.” It was about all he could muster up with the images of her luscious body still seared into his brain.
She cocked her thumb behind her and gave him a direct look. “Um, back there. I—”
“Don’t worry.” Dallas shook his head, not wanting her to feel...what? Bad. Uncomfortable. Exposed. Yet he was so glad he’d walked by to get that visual treat. He’d been celibate far too long.
“I’m not worried. It’s just that, well, if you liked what you saw, why didn’t you just come inside?”
She was direct.
He narrowed his eyes and searched her face. Did she want a fling? Weren’t wedding hookups commonplace? If she was offering, he decided he didn’t want to let her down. That wasn’t gentlemanly, right? But then who said he was a gentleman. He’d been told as much by... He refused to finish that thought and pressed his lips together. Ranch rules. His rules. No getting involved with guests. “Well, ma’am—”
“Please don’t call me that. My name is Jimi.” And she smiled at him, a seductive and enchanting curve on her lips that heated his blood. It was like the sun came out and shone down just on her, while everything else faded to black. He was mesmerized, again. Oh yeah, she spelled trouble with a capital T. Perhaps this would be a much more interesting weekend than he’d anticipated. He knew he was about to break all his hard-and-fast rules, which made him angry at himself just as much as it excited him. Something about this chick had his radar humming, and he was obligated to find out why.
“Pleased to meet you, Jimi.” He offered his hand. She took it. Dallas was surprised by the strength of her slender fingers and the sizzle of erotic heat that flashed up his arm. He curled his hand around hers and pulled her ever so slightly closer to him. She didn’t resist.
He looked down at her. She wasn’t short, likely around five-seven, but still much shorter than his six foot two. He liked taller women, and her height was just under his preference. Still, though, he figured they’d fit together perfectly, just like puzzle pieces.
She gazed up at him and goddamn if he didn’t lose his breath. Like Kilauea had erupted inside him. His blood pumped in his veins, hot, thick and achingly slow. He was lost in her eyes, which sparkled like stars twinkling against the indigo canvas of a Hawaiian night, a beautiful blue with tinges of amber and sand in their depths. Her curly hair a halo around her head. Dallas sucked in a breath as desire slipped down his spine and settled in his hips. In the short space of time since this woman had crashed into his life, it was like everything had changed. Something in his world had shifted. All he wanted to do was drag her into his arms, kiss her senseless and crush her to him. Dallas was rocked to the core, never before having had such a powerful reaction to a woman. All because of a smile, the touch of hands and a body he’d like to feed off for days.
3 (#u7ba46647-e161-5285-a264-fb6e88c7a96e)
JIMI STOOD IN front of this mountain of man, staring up at him as he glowered down at her with an intensity that made her shiver. Her mind went nuts with the possibilities of all the good bad things they could do together. Something about this man made her want to be bad. Naughty. While not a prude about sex by any stretch of the imagination, it just wasn’t often that her body made the decision before her brain did.
His calm silence couldn’t hide the passion she saw brewing in his eyes. She wondered if he would be just as intense and quiet if they fucked. Yes, that was how she’d look at it. Not making love, no way. Love was something she’d given up on a long time ago. Anyone she’d ever loved had left her. But that hadn’t stopped her from searching for it—God, how she’d searched—and in all the wrong places, too. To distance herself from the unorthodox way she was raised had been her driving force. She’d navigated through the concrete jungle of New York City’s fashion world and made it. At times, though, her past came back to haunt her, like it seemed to be doing here, today. So many little reminders. It was unsettling.
She didn’t feel guilty for seeking out men she could influence, manage to her liking. It meant she didn’t have to let her guard down. It was purely physical. No entanglements. No talks of the future. Just the present. She’d learned long ago that the only person she could trust and count on was herself.
Jimi eyed this bad boy in front of her. He clearly fell into the physical-satisfaction category, and for a moment she wondered if he would be putty in her hands. His gentlemanly nature wasn’t something she was accustomed to and would likely be his weakness.
“What kind of name is Jimi?” His deep and velvety voice captivated her. It held a hint of cowboy twang, which she liked.
“My parents were old hippies, commune types. They had a thing for Jimi Hendrix.”
“Is that so? Then I expect you had the most unusual upbringing.”
Jimi couldn’t believe she’d told him that, and without any thought at all. It just tumbled out of her mouth. Usually she gave a bullshit story that they named her Benjamina and never ever said her parents were hippies. That usually led to all kinds of questions that she refused to answer. But he zeroed right in on what she needed to hide the most. Her upbringing and fallout from it. Surprisingly, he didn’t inquire further or say anything more, and she hoped to quell any future questions.
“To say the least. Something that I try to forget.”
He nodded and glanced down at her feet. “I guess some things are hard to leave behind.”
She furrowed her brows and wondered what he was talking about, until she looked down at her bare toes. No way would she admit he was right. She’d buried her feelings deep where her childhood was concerned, but it seemed some things were hard to shake. “No. It’s something I have most definitely left behind. My suitcase didn’t arrive with me, so I’m at a loss for footwear other than my heels. Which appear to be completely inappropriate for this wedding trip.”
“Ah, you’re the one.”
Jimi furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”
“The one with no bags. The one that thought this destination wedding was at a beach. I barely recognized you.”
Now he was making fun of her. She let go of his hand and was struck by the odd emptiness and feeling of distance that replaced the zing she’d felt from him just moments ago. The warmth of his fingers gone, a shiver ran through her even with the Hawaiian heat pressing down on them. She frowned, not liking how off balance he’d suddenly made her feel.
“It was my fault for not paying more attention. The norm for destination weddings is usually on the beach. At a resort. The last thing I’d expect here is a destination wedding on a ranch.” She waved her hand to indicate her surroundings and nearly smacked one of the horses on the nose. The horse snorted and tossed his head, startling Jimi. She jumped and let out a cry when her bare feet landed on sharp stones, making her stumble. She used the opportunity and in that moment decided to go with stepping up her game. So she let herself fall headlong into the cowboy. “Ow.”
She was confident he’d catch her. She expected no less from this gentlemanly cowboy.
“Hey there, whoa.”
She clutched at his arms, trying not to notice the strength under her fingers. At the same time, he wrapped his arms around her. Tight.
Regardless of whether she’d instigated this little event, she really had hurt her foot.
“Oh, my God, it feels like my foot shredded on glass.” Yet the pain in her feet paled with the powerful response she had to him as he gathered her close.
“Exactly why you shouldn’t be trotting around here without shoes on. Regardless if you’re a hipster or not.”
“I’m not a hipster! All right...enough. My feet are crying.” The cowboy swung her into his arms. “Hey! What are you doing?”
“Taking you to fix your foot.”
Jimi halfheartedly struggled in his arms, but the way she fit against his wide chest was far too comfortable. And wasn’t it just where she wanted to be? Her foot was stinging, but the warmth of his body almost had her forgetting about it. “You know I’m quite capable of getting to my tent.”
“I’m sure you are. But I don’t need you leaving the scent of blood everywhere. Besides, the cuts will get full of dirt.”
He took a path behind the rows of tents. She was glad he kept out of sight of other guests, because she already felt stupid enough with her dumb comments earlier. Jimi decided to just enjoy being carried. It wasn’t every day a girl was in strong, muscular arms. She looped her hand behind his neck. His hair tickled her knuckles and she looked up, seeing under the wide brim of his cowboy hat for the first time. She swallowed when he looked down at her. All thought and words vanished under the heat of his gaze. And when he smiled—oh, God, when he smiled—she liquefied inside. What had she been thinking? No way would he ever be putty in her hands. Jimi feared it was she who would be putty in his hands.
He shouldered his way through a tent flap and Jimi glanced around. “This isn’t my tent.”
“I know.” He set her down on a cot that looked surprisingly cozy and was very comfortable.
“Why am I here? I wanted to go to my tent.” She was grappling with her rioting emotions, and being carried by him had thrown her totally off balance.
He pulled a chair in front of her, then turned around to a chest-high cabinet. “Does your tent have the first-aid kit?”
