The Princess And The Cowboy

Buck tightened the cinch on Aggie, then turned to see what had his fellow steer wrestler so excited.

The sight of a young woman walking around the corner of one of the campers kicked him in the gut like his horse’s hind leg. Leading a dun mare, she moved as if on the runway of the Miss America Pageant, though she was dressed in the gaudy starred-and-striped sequined weskit of the rodeo “court” and white jeans so tight he wouldn’t be surprised if they’d been painted on.

As he watched, she paused and glanced around, then twisted to tug at the seam riding up her rear end. The action was so sexy, Buck reacted as if she’d stripped right in front of him.

“Damn.” He shifted his stance to ease the sudden tightness of his own jeans.

The other cowboy whistled. “I ain’t never seen her around here before. Have you?”

“She must be that princess the rodeo director’s been looking for.” Buck stared at her through the chaos of horses, cowboys and cowgirls—a hunter whose crosshair was squarely on his quarry. “And maybe the one I’ve been looking for.”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.” Buck quickly wrapped off the cinch. “I’ll go tell her they’re waiting on her.”

“Hey, I saw her first,” the cowboy complained as Buck walked toward the young woman.

“Too bad.” Buck threw a grin over his shoulder. “This little filly could be the answer to my prayers.”

“Howdy, Princess.”

The sound of her title made Josie’s heart slam against her ribs even before she could untwist from her awkward position. She straightened to find a tall, broad, incredibly handsome cowboy smiling down at her. The sight as much as the panic at being found so quickly made her stammer. “What… How…”

With a smile that could melt the rock cliffs of Montclaire, he drawled, “They’re looking for you.”

Her eyes widened further. “For me? They are?”

Oh, no. How could they have found her already? Though it had taken an hour to ride across the fields toward the rodeo, she didn’t think they’d even miss her by now. It was barely dark.

“Can’t open a rodeo without all the princesses leading the procession.”

She blinked hard. “All the princesses?”

“There are six of you, I think, not counting the queen.” He pushed his hat back on his head. “Didn’t you practice with the others?”

“Practice? No, I…” Josie dragged her gaze away from the cowboy’s sexy blue eyes so she could think.

There weren’t any queens or other princesses in California at the moment, that she knew of. These must be the beauty queens America was so fond of crowning. Melissa had said rodeos held a contest for a “queen” and her “court,” but why would this cowboy think she was one of them?

A quick glance around the area told her. In the limited light, she could see three other young women wearing a sequined blouse identical to the one Josie had “borrowed.”

Mon Dieu, I can’t even steal properly.

After she’d cleared the fence that separated the Porter ranch from the rodeo property, she’d quickly realized her ball gown would stick out like a black sheep in a flock of white merinos.

Luckily—or so she’d thought at the time—these tortuous pants and the red-white-and-blue sequined blouse had been hanging on a trailer door at the edge of the lot. There’d even been a hat and boots to complete the outfit. She’d been desperate enough that it didn’t take long to overcome her scruples about taking them. As she’d changed behind the trailer—one end of which bounced and squeaked rhythmically—she could hear loud moans coming from inside. She’d felt better then, thinking if the woman was sick she wouldn’t need the clothes.

To help assuage her guilt, Josie left her own gown as payment. The Versace was worth at least ten outfits like the one she had on.

“You must be a substitute princess,” the cowboy offered.

This was getting worse by the minute. If she claimed to be a substitute, she’d have to ride in the procession this man mentioned. She didn’t think anyone would recognize her in this disguise, but she didn’t want to waste any time. Soon either Madame Savoie or the bodyguards would realize she was missing. She wanted to have found a prospective husband and be long gone by the time they thought about searching the rodeo grounds.

But if she claimed she wasn’t this rodeo princess, she’d have to admit stealing the clothes, which could put her in jail. Then Bonifay’s men would locate her for sure.

Why couldn’t she have found a plainer outfit to steal? One that would let her blend into the crowd?

“Are you okay, miss?”

She’d have to take her chances in the procession. Surely it couldn’t take that long. The only problem was… “I don’t know what to do.”

He shrugged. “From what I can tell, it’s not hard. Just ride around the arena with one of the sponsor flags. C’mon. I’ll walk you to the gate.”

Her eyes traveled uncertainly across the wide expanse of his shoulders. “But…who are you?”

His smile broadened, folding two deep dimples into his hard cheeks and stealing air from her lungs. He tipped his black hat. “Name’s Buck Buchanan. Pleasure to meet you, Miss…?”

“Josie Fr—” She clamped her mouth shut to keep from uttering her French name. After a bare second’s pause, she supplied the rough translation. “Freeheart. Josie Freeheart.”

His dark brows moved together. “Freeheart? That some kind of hippie name or something?”

Not knowing how to answer, she lifted a shoulder. Free-heart sounded like a perfectly good American name to her.

To take his mind off her possible faux pas, she asked, “Are you a rider of…” What did Melissa call those wild horses? “…broncs?”

“A bronc rider? Not anymore. But hey, we’d best get you to the gate. C’mon.” He grabbed her hand and started walking toward the arena. “I’m a bulldogger these days. I used to ride broncs, but when you’re six-two and two hundred twenty pounds, there’s too much of you to be jerked around.”

Josie barely heard his explanation. Her mind was so consumed with the sensation of her hand in his, she barely remembered to keep hold of her horse’s reins.

Never in her life had a man held her hand. Not like this, palm against palm, fingers laced. The most she’d ever experienced was a man’s hand wrapped around her gloved fingers as they danced. She’d never felt the heat that not only engulfed her hand, but shot up her arm to spread all over her body. Her heart began to race like it had when she escaped across the—

“Josie?”

“Hmm?” As she tried to shake off the curious sensation, she took one more step than he did, which landed her smack up against his side. The mare’s nose shoved into her back, pinning her there.

Startled, she glanced up into eyes the deep blue color of the Mediterranean water surrounding her island home.

His smile made her heart beat even faster. “Meet me here after I ride, okay? I’ll buy you a dog and a beer.”

“A dog?”

He gave her an odd look. “Yeah. A hot dog.”

“A hot dog. Oh.”

What should she say? What should she do? None of the etiquette rules drilled into her at boarding school covered an invitation for dogs and beer.

Then she smiled. Of course they didn’t. There weren’t any rules covering such a situation for a princess, because princesses didn’t get into situations like this.

She was blazing new ground for princesses everywhere. She was on her own, free to do anything she wanted.

“A hot dog and beer sound wonderful.”

Suddenly he dipped his head and pressed his lips against hers.

Shocked, Josie stiffened, her gasp cut off by virtue of no air. Only a second passed, however, before the lack of oxygen didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that the contact go on forever.

She whimpered and pressed closer.

After a long, delightful moment, he drew away. “Damn.”

She opened her eyes. His were so close she could barely focus on them. “You kissed me.”

“Yep. I’m about to do it again.”

“You are? Why?”

He chuckled. “For luck…among other things.”

“Luck?”

“To help me catch my steer. The way I feel right now, though, I can’t imagine not setting a record, just so I can get back to you.”

The heart that had begun to slow began racing again. “All right. You may kiss me again.”

The blue of his eyes darkened a shade, but he closed them a second before his mouth covered hers. His lips were warm and pliant, soft and—

Suddenly the point of physical contact lost focus as heat forged a bond that melded them together. Warmth flowed from him into her, then surged back again. The effervescence of it made Josie dizzy. To keep from falling, she grabbed his thick, hard biceps as his arms encircled her waist.

“There she is! About time. Tear yourself away from lover boy, Candy, or we’ll start without you.”

The rodeo director’s words penetrated the sensual fog clouding Buck’s mind, and he reluctantly drew away from the lips that had instantly sent him into a tailspin. He didn’t want to stop kissing the trailer-park queen he’d just found. Not now. Not ever.

Slowly, she opened her fathomless amber eyes. He was gratified to note the trouble she had focusing, though the evidence of her desire made it hard not to bend and taste her again.

“Josie?”

“Hmmmm?” she asked dreamily.

This could be the stupidest thing he’d ever done, but he had a strong feeling it was fate slapping him up the side of the head. Why else would she appear so quickly, right after he’d made his plan?

“To hell with the hot dog. Will you marry me?”

Chapter Two

Josie’s eyes widened and she pulled away, but only slightly. Then she gave him a nervous smile. “Yes.”

“Candy, will you come on?”

She glanced at the rodeo director, who stood in a wide two-point stance several feet away.

“Hey, you’re not Candy.”

Buck ignored the man as he studied Josie’s lovely face. Her black eyebrows and dark complexion told him she wasn’t a real blonde, but that didn’t bother him. Few trailer-park queens were. What made him hesitate was that she’d agreed to marry him so quickly, without asking a single question about his health or background.

Was it possible she knew he was Hardin Winford Buchanan II, son of the third richest man in Sacramento and multimillionaire in his own right?

He shook off the notion. He’d done his damnedest to keep his background secret from the rodeo world. More likely she figured he asked every girl he met to kiss him and marry him for luck. Cowboys did have a reputation for being superstitious.

“You don’t think I’m serious,” he said.

“Are you?” she returned.

“What the hell’s going on here, Buck?” the rodeo director demanded. “What’s happened to Candy?”

“One second, Hal.” Buck’s gaze never left Josie’s intense amber eyes. “I have a few conditions.”

She smiled wryly. “So do I.”

“We’ll talk about it on the way to Reno. It’s just a couple of hours away, and we can get married tonight, if we haven’t changed our minds by the time we get there.”

She nodded. “All right. I’d like to leave as soon as possible.”

Buck nodded, then turned to face the rodeo director, who watched them with a disgusted expression. “Sorry, Hal. This here’s Josie. She’s Candy’s substitute.”

“What? Where’s Candy?” The tall, gaunt man held his palms toward them. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. As long as I got someone to carry the Dodge flag, I don’t care. Mount up, Josie. It’s show time.”

Buck glanced down at Josie, who stood in the circle of his arm. “You ready?”

She took a deep breath. “I guess so.”

She guided the reins over the mare’s neck as she moved down its side to mount.

Unable to resist the opportunity, Buck set his hands on her hips and lifted her onto the saddle. She was tall and though slender, she was no featherweight. Not that lifting her was any effort for him. Like most steer wrestlers, he was a big man, and he liked the solid feel of her.

With one hand on her knee, he grabbed her hands with his other as she gathered the reins. “Meet me here after I ride, okay?”

She sat ramrod straight in the saddle and looked down at him like a princess from her throne. Her golden-brown eyes searched his face as if he were an animal she’d never seen before. “Will you kiss me again…for luck?”

The contrast of her haughty posture and provocative words made desire stab deep into his gut. “Better not, sweetheart. I might not be able to stop. But I’ll definitely take you up on that offer later. Hell, if we’re getting married, we’re going to be doing a lot more than kissing.”

Crimson brushed across her cheeks, but the smile she gave him was as brilliant as the arena lights. “I’ll meet you here.”

He released her, and with a gentle kick, she sent the mare toward the gate where Hal was waving her on frantically.

Buck pushed back his hat and watched her pause to lift the Dodge Truck flag, then maneuver into place beside another princess, who watched her curiously.

Will you kiss me again?

Was it possible he’d finally found a woman who didn’t feel the need to play games? One who was unafraid to match his libido kiss for kiss, caress for caress, thrust for thrust?

And to top it off, she was beautiful, sexy and a trashy trailer-park queen to boot.

Okay, not a queen, just a princess, but that would do.

He hoped like hell his instincts were right. If they were, he couldn’t wait to take her home tomorrow night to meet the folks.

With a smug smile, Buck turned back toward his horse.

His mother was going to have a heifer.

“Four-point-six seconds!” the announcer bellowed over the loudspeaker. The sound carried easily to where Josie hid among the trucks and trailers. “The best bulldogging time of the evening, folks. Buck Buchanan rode like a man possessed! Let’s give him a great big hand. He’s in the money tonight.”

Dieu merci, he was fin—

No. Thank God he was finished. If her charade was going to be successful, she had to weed the French words from her vocabulary. Thank God her English was unaccented and full of American slang and idioms, courtesy of all the years she’d known Melissa.

Josie peered around the cab of a truck, but couldn’t see Buck approaching. She hoped he hadn’t changed his mind.

She needed to get away, fast.

After sending the mare she’d borrowed back over the fence toward the Porter stables, she’d spotted a young woman carrying the Versace gown. Despite a red flush on her cheeks and neck, the woman didn’t look sick at all. In fact, she was obviously angry and looking for her stolen clothes.

Then a local sheriff’s car pulled up at the edge of the parking lot. When two deputies began showing the people milling around a picture, Josie had to assume they were looking for her.

So far she’d avoided being found by either Candy or the cops. But what would she do if Buck Buchanan didn’t show up? What if he’d changed his—

Her attention was snagged by the swaggering gait of a tall, muscular man leading a horse from the arena. Though he was silhouetted by the bright lights, she knew it was Buck.

More than relief flowed through her. As she remembered how his big, hard body had felt against hers, how his lips had nearly caused her to spontaneously combust, her heart began pounding like the drums that had welcomed her on her state visit to Kenya. The sensation distracted her so much she didn’t realize he was looking for her until he called her name.

“Sssshhhh!”

Buck peered into the shadows on the parking lot and saw a piquant face surrounded by enormous blond hair peeking around the cab of a truck. Relief flooded through him. “What are you—”

“Come here.” She waved him over. “Hurry, please.”

Her impatience made him recall the desire biting at him ever since they’d parted. He grinned as he joined her behind the truck. “Want another kiss, sweetheart? Well, here I come—ready, willing and more than able.”

She grabbed his arm and hauled him into her hiding place, glancing nervously behind him as she did. “Can we leave now, please?”

A little miffed that she hadn’t wanted the embrace he’d been craving for over an hour, he pushed his hat back. “I reckon. What did you do with your mare?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Oh. I had to give her back. She wasn’t mine.”

He nodded. Borrowing mounts at rodeos was as common as muddy jeans from dirt landings. Still, he had the feeling something wasn’t altogether what it should be. Josie didn’t act like a woman excited about getting hitched. She didn’t seem excited at all. She seemed distracted, worried…almost scared.

He cussed as the most likely possibility hit him. “You running away from something, sweetheart?”

Her only answer was to look away guiltily.

Damn. He knew his trailer-park queen was too good to be true. “What is it? The law? Or am I going to have a jealous husband breathing down my neck any minute?”

She was clearly horrified. “Would I be marrying you if I was already married?”

He shrugged. “It’s not legal, but it’s been done.”

She shook her head vehemently, which made her blond hair slip a bit to the side, enough to release a dark lock of hair.

Buck smiled. A wig. Who wore wigs but old women and trailer-park queens?

She really was the kind of woman he was looking for.

“Nothing like that, I promise,” she insisted. “It’s…my father. He wants me to marry a man I don’t want to marry. I have to get away from here as soon as possible. Please help me.”

Her obvious anxiety and the fact that she didn’t evade the question made Buck believe her. Or maybe it was because his own parents were trying to do the same thing to him.

He drew a finger across the satin smoothness of her jaw. “I bet the guy’s rich, isn’t he?”

She nodded solemnly. “Will you help me? Please? I don’t have any money at the moment, but I do have a couple of pieces of jewelry I can sell that should bring enough money to pay you.”

“Pay me?” Buck chuckled at the ridiculous notion. At least it proved she didn’t know who he was. Relieved she wasn’t a gold digger planning to alimony him out of his money, he slipped his free hand around her back and bent to kiss her temple. “That’s cute, sweetheart. Of course I’ll help you, but you don’t have to pay me.”

She craned her neck so she could see him. “Yes, I do. You’ll understand more when I tell you what my conditions are. But please, can we talk about them on the way to Reno?”

“I just have one question. How old are you?”

She looked puzzled, but answered, “I’ll be twenty-five in three weeks. Why?”

“You’re legal. Good. Just checking.” He gathered his gelding’s reins closer. “You have any suitcases?”

She shook her head.

Hell, she really was running away. “Let me load Agamemnon and pick up my check, then we’ll head on out.”

“If you’ll show me where your trailer is, I’ll load your gelding while you pick up the check. It’ll be faster.”

His gaze swept her worried face. “Someone’s here right now, looking for you, aren’t they?”

She hesitated, then nodded.

“Hell, my check’s not that big. We’ll just go ahead and—”

“No.” She placed a hand on his arm. “You need your check. Melis—Um, I know how rodeo cowboys live.”

He wasn’t going to tell her that he always signed his rodeo checks over to the next charity he came across. His only stipulation was that the donation remain anonymous. He didn’t want to let his rodeo buddies know he needed these checks about as much as the Double Star needed hills.

“All right.” He pointed out his red Chevrolet truck attached to a two-horse trailer with a built-in camper. Both were battered, with chipped paint. He’d spent several days making them look that way. Inside they weren’t fancy, but both held all the basic comforts a man or horse could want. “There’s my rig. It’s not locked.”

She nodded and moved her hands to Aggie’s reins. She stroked the horse’s nose as she let him nuzzle her hand to smell her scent, then she moved to each side of the gelding so he could see her out of both eyes. “Sounds like you performed well tonight. You deserve a good rubdown.”

The evidence that she knew and respected horses made Buck’s admiration rise even more. He brushed his mouth against hers. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

Even if he had to hound the rodeo secretary to sign his check.

“Isn’t that wig uncomfortable?”

Startled by Buck’s question, Josie turned from the side mirror where she’d been watching for vehicles that might be following them. They’d left Auburn twenty minutes ago, heading into the mountains toward the Nevada state line. Up to now, Buck had been quiet, intent on guiding his rig onto the 180.

“Wig?” She had a moment of panic, having been convinced she’d had everyone fooled.

For an answer, he reached across and tugged at a strand of dark hair lying on her cheek. He pulled until the long tress was free from beneath the wig. “You’re not a blonde.”

Her stomach fluttered at the way he was caressing the black strand, and she drew it from the masculine fingers. “Does that matter?”

“Not at all.” He sent a glance down her form. “It just makes me wonder what else isn’t real.”

Since he was eyeing her overly generous bust, she sighed. He might as well know the worst now. First she eased the wig off her head. She couldn’t suppress a moan of relief when the pressure of the tight band holding it in place was gone.

Strands of hair escaped her once-perfect chignon, but she couldn’t make any repairs at the moment other than pushing them off her face. Then, casting an uneasy glance at Buck, she reached inside the sequined weskit and began pulling tissues from the bodice.

When he saw what she was doing, Buck smiled, then chuckled. The next time he glanced over, he started laughing out loud. The more tissues she took out, the harder he laughed.

When she was finally finished, she glared at him.

He looked at her, and kept laughing.

A smile tugged at Josie’s lips, and when she glanced down at the mountain of tissues on her lap, she let her lips curve.

“Is there anything left of you in there?” he asked, wiping at tears of mirth.

Josie held the weskit against her bust. “Not all that much, I’m afraid. I guess it was false advertising, but I needed a disguise. If you want to back out of the deal, I’ll understand.”

“No, I definitely want in.”

His voice had such a husky quality, she glanced at him. The hot looks he was sending her between glances at the highway surprised her. She’d caught looks of unbridled lust on men before, but never directed at her. No man had been so lacking in manners as to openly desire Princess Joséphene of Montclaire. It just wasn’t done.

Until now.

A wave of heat washed through her, but not from embarrassment. For the first time in her life, she felt like a woman—a sexy woman. She’d had no idea that being the object of a man’s desire would feel so wonderful, so liberating, so wanton.

“You—” She had to clear her throat before she could speak properly. “You still want to get married?”

His gaze rested on hers, then shifted back to the highway. “Do you?”

“I…” She turned her own gaze to the line of headlights coming at them. “As I said, I have some very specific conditions.”

“Such as?”

“Well—please don’t take this personally—I only need a husband for a few months. But at least you won’t be stuck with me for long.”

Buck glanced at her sharply. “A few months? Why?”

“I…I’d rather not go into the specifics. Suffice it to say that I need to prevent my…father from marrying me to someone else.”

Buck was amazed at how her situation was like his own. “How many months are we talking about?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. At least two. Perhaps as many as six or seven. It depends on how long it takes me to—”