Whirlwind Page 9

  He watched her as she carefully concentrated on spreading lotion along a slender limb. "Wouldn't you like to do something more exciting?" His voice was suggestive. "I could give you a preview ride of the Indy 500."

  His words brought soft laughter from Karen and Shelly. Facing the problem at hand, Dayna responded, "I'm busy."

  "So I see," he replied with a hint of humor in his eyes as they followed her hand's movement over her thigh. "I think you're afraid to be with me."

  "Would you stop saying that?"

  Laughter filled his voice. "Why do you pretend? I know you stood around yesterday watching me."

  Dayna's whole body burned with embarrassment. She had no words of defense to utter. The glint in his blue eyes was more unsettling than the ensuing silence.

  "Come with me," he persisted in a soft, coaxing voice. "Prove you're not afraid."

  His challenge was unavoidable. She tried to calm the odd emotion sweeping through her. Never had she given in to any man. She certainly wouldn't let him get the better of her. Her proud confidence aroused, she rose to her feet, feeling a strong need to be in a position to stare down at his goading expression. It wasn't quite so easy to appear in control with his eyes following her body's movement and appraising lingeringly the bare skin revealed by her swimsuit. Dayna took up Brand's challenge. "All right. I'll prove it. I'll meet you outside the lodge in ten minutes," she added, before turning away from him.

  For all her bravado, she was shaking and weak limbed from the raw desire in his gaze as it perused her bare legs and hips. Her hands shook visibly as she changed into jeans and began buttoning her blouse. Muttering a curse under her breath, she sat down on the edge of the bed and took a brief moment to try to control the emotions she had been struggling with ever since they met.

  Dayna jumped, surprised when the door opened and Karen entered. "I came up for some magazines."

  Not wanting Karen to see the emotional turmoil she was in, Dayna looked down and worked on another button of her blouse.

  "Are you going?" Karen asked, jumping herself when a second later there was a soft rap on the door.

  Dayna grabbed at her blouse, holding it together as Karen answered the knock. After a murmured exchange, she turned back to Dayna. "Hank, the ranch hand," she explained, "just came to tell me about a wilderness survival program they're offering." Dayna nodded, relieved her hands were steadier now as Karen went on. "I asked down at the desk this morning about it. Might as well try everything as long as I'm here," she added.

  "It was nice of him to make a special trip to let you know."

  "They're all nice here," Karen noted. "Are you having similar thoughts about trying everything as long as you're here?" Dayna released an exasperated sigh and Karen quickly continued. "Look, I've never seen you act like this with any man before. Usually you seem so sure of yourself, so much in control."

  Pulling on her boots, Dayna shook her head. "Karen, what you saw was my own fault for being vulnerable and reacting like any other woman to a man who's well versed in making a woman pay attention to him." A sly smile curled her mouth. "That cowboy needs to be put in his place. He thinks all he has to do is snap his fingers and every woman in sight will fall at his feet," she added, still fuming over his challenge. "If I was interested in wasting my time I might just play a little game with that ranch foreman and give him a taste of his own medicine."

  "Is that why you're going with him?" Karen asked.

  Dayna shook her head. "No…" She had no real answer. Why was she going? She ran a brush over her hair and hoped Karen wouldn't ask any more probing questions.

  "Are you going to confront him about Alexandria Minter?"

  "I'm not really sure. I don't have any positive proof. If I did ask him, it might just give him a chance to counter the complaint with some story."

  "Do you really believe he's that devious?"

  "Karen, his job could be in jeopardy. He might lie through his teeth to keep it."

  The motor of the blue pickup was running, and Brand was waiting patiently in the driver's seat, a complacent smile crinkling the lines at the corners of his eyes.

  Dayna passed Hank, nearly bumping into him as he finished a conversation with Brand and yelled back, "I'll tell Bonnie you're getting it from town now."

  She sidestepped him and smiled, drawing an apologetic look from Hank. Tipping his hat, he smiled. "Sorry, ma'am."

  She laughed as she hurried around the front of the pickup truck. "Ma'am" seemed to be the polite greeting for any woman, whether single, married, twenty, or eighty. She had been called that at least fifty times since she'd arrived. As soon as she closed the door, Brand pulled the truck away from the ranch, leaving clouds of dust on the road behind them. Knowing he had artfully intimidated her with his dare to accompany him, her voice betrayed her annoyance. "Do you always go around challenging the guests?"

  He turned to look at her for a second and then his eyes slid back to the road. "It seemed the only way to get you to come with me. You've been very shrewdly avoiding me for the last few days. I am trying to be nice and offer to show you some of the sights around the ranch that not many of the guests see."

  "Preferential treatment?"

  "You'd be my first choice every time."

  "Do you always give special attention to certain guests?"

  "You are a very special lady," he said quietly.

  "How many other special ladies have you known?" Dayna persisted.

  His blue eyes narrowed, but they held steady on the road. "What are you really asking?"

  Dayna kept her eyes on the passing scenery. "It was just curiosity." With his continued silence, she added, "I wondered if you made a habit of taking female guests to town."

  He didn't answer her question directly. "Since you're with the travel agency, it would be logical to want to impress you, wouldn't it?"

  He negotiated a curve. Sunlight glared into his eyes and he squinted against it. While he drove she studied the strong features of his face. It was virile and rugged, yet he had eyes that could be both boyishly mischievous and alarmingly sensuous. Her eyes lingered on the well-sculptured cheekbones, the firm jawline, the long, straight nose.

  The sun no longer posed a problem and Brand turned an interested glance in her direction. "Surely, you know that isn't why I really asked you along."

  "I'm a little surprised employees are allowed such freedom with guests."

  A corner of his mouth curled. "I'd like a lot more with you."

  "W.R. doesn't mind you associating with female guests?"

  His mouth slanted in a smile. "I associate with all the guests. Earlier this morning I took a ten-year-old out to rope a calf."

  "Yes, but you do target women mostly for your attention," she persisted. "It's true, isn't it, that you've had brief romances with other women?"

  "Some not so brief."

  "I mean with guests. I'm not the first," Dayna asked, "am I?" The questions popped out without thinking, "Are we going to have a romantic interlude?" Brand asked with a grin. "It's nice to finally hear you admit it."

  Dayna clamped her lips together and stared out the window. She was getting no answers this way.

  Discerning her stubborn silence, he said easily, "Look, there isn't any harm in a romance to enjoy, to make the most of, if both people face it honestly." He laughed shortly. "In this day, it's hardly shocking for a man to tell a woman he wants to make love to her." Dayna's head turned in his direction. "I assume someone who is sophisticated and beautiful, and who has traveled extensively, has received many propositions."

  "Of course, but do you think I go around having casual flings with men?"

  "I don't know. But I assure you the word 'casual' has no place in describing what I feel for you. I've hardly hidden from you what I want, and I think you want me."

  Dayna knew he was trying to lighten her mood but a frown had settled on her face. She swallowed hard. Had he actually stated that all he wanted was a two-week affair?

&nbs
p; Preoccupied with driving, he glanced in his rear-view mirror and negotiated a turn on to the state highway. A few minutes passed before he commented without looking at her, "We'll play the game a while longer, Dayna."

  "Game?" Dayna questioned softly, a strange ache beginning to swell in her chest as she said the word.

  "That's what it is," Brand answered. "You're only fighting yourself."

  Dayna offered no reply, returning her attention to the passing scenery. She was almost afraid to think too deeply about anything. She felt it was more important to give herself breathing space, to take her time and contemplate everything he'd said, but it didn't stop her from asking a personal question. "Did you ever meet anyone you were serious about?"

  Brand shook his head. "No, I was young but smart enough to see I would grow tired of the relationship when the initial excitement in bed disappeared."

  "You think that's all there is to a relationship, don't you?"

  "No, but it certainly keeps the romance alive."

  "Romance, excitement in bed," she said with a cynical air. "Those are the only important things to men like you."

  Brand cast a curious glance at her. "What kind of man do you think I am?" he asked with a hint of laughter.

  "A womanizer, a man who enjoys women for the conquest. One who lives his life having casual flings," Dayna answered bluntly.

  He didn't react as Dayna had anticipated. Soft laughter rumbled in his throat. "You came up with all those reasonable deductions because I said I grew tired after the initial excitement disappeared? You certainly don't look the naive type." He was quiet for a moment. "What do you think is important?"

  "Common interests, mature views, a good foundation," she explained. "And you've admitted you've never been serious about any of them. So much for romance. It's an empty gesture."

  "There was one," he said with a quiet softness. "I met her at college." He seemed to drift away for a minute, as if recapturing a memory.

  "You went to college? Did you work your way through?"

  "Part of the time," he answered, his voice stronger, indicating his mind was with her again. "I started out majoring in forestry and got sidetracked into computer technology."

  Dayna returned his smile. "Which explains your fascination with the computer system they were using for the rodeo."

  Brand answered with a self-deprecating expression. "I was drifting in those days. Not sure what I wanted. After I struggled for the first two years, living on beans and junk food every night, my father came to me and said: 'Well, you've proven yourself to me, I'll pay the rest of the way.'"

  Thoroughly enjoying the thought that someone had gotten the best of him, Dayna wanted to smile but responded instead with an understanding remark. "What a stinker."

  Brand laughed. "I thought so at the time. I'm sure he enjoyed himself over it. But it was good for me. I really wasn't acting too responsibly, and I guess he thought I wouldn't finish college. It's funny how easy it is to say that now. Back then I really couldn't understand how he could be so uncooperative. He'd worked hard all his life, though, and he probably didn't think I should have anything handed to me."

  "How did he feel about you going back to ranching after all that education?"

  Brand shrugged. "I think he sensed I would all along. I was raised out in this country. I like it. Everything always came easily to me on the ranch." He added wryly, "Born in the saddle, as they say." He cast a sidelong glance at her. "You figured," he said thoughtfully, "with no education, I was doing the only thing I'm capable of doing. Right?"

  Dayna quickly denied this. "No. In fact, when I saw you in Phoenix I thought you were there on business for some eastern company. I just don't understand why you came back to ranching."

  "That's easy to answer," Brand said firmly. "I told you already. I like it. It's what I wanted."

  Dayna looked up, only becoming aware they were in town when Brand halted the truck for a stop sign. As he pulled it into a diagonal parking space, he added, "I don't give up easily. I usually get what I want."

  She slammed the door behind her and hurried to meet him in front of the truck. Dayna was irritated when she saw the glint of amusement that always seemed to be in his eyes when he looked at her.

  They had parked in front of an old-fashioned general store. As she walked beside him up the wooden steps, Dayna suddenly became conscious of the power and strength in his body. Never had she considered her own stature as slight. She had dated many men over six feet tall but there was a compelling physical quality about Brand she couldn't ignore as they walked under the porch awnings.

  For the sake of the tourists the local storekeepers had worked hard to maintain the authenticity of an old frontier town, complete with hitching posts along the streets in front of the shops. The only suggestion of modern civilization in the main section of town were the typical street-corner gas stations. For a city girl, it was an interesting sight.

  While Brand made small talk with the shop owner, Dayna stood back and viewed the establishment. Reminiscent of a frontier store, it contained shelf-lined walls laden with every item a customer could ever want. Along with an old-fashioned meat scale and a paper and string dispenser for packages, there were rolls of fabrics off to one corner. On the counter before her were glass containers filled with various candies: peppermint and cinnamon sticks, gum drops and spice drop slices.

  They made two more stops for supplies. Not interested in the hardware store he had to visit, she left him and wandered along the street, taking in the sights. When he found her browsing over postcards, Dayna noticed the supplies were already in the truck. She assumed he was ready to return to the ranch, but without a word of explanation, he grabbed her hand and led her toward what appeared to be a frontier saloon. Before Dayna could utter a word they were inside, not a tavern, but the ice cream parlor next door.

  Dayna noted the care that had been given to the decor to create an authentic Gay Nineties atmosphere. As Brand seated her in one of the white wrought-iron chairs with its peppermint-striped cushioned seat, it seemed ridiculous to protest something as innocent as an ice cream soda. "Ice cream sodas and cowboys seem out of context. Aren't you more inclined toward beer?" she taunted.

  His smile slipped away, the blue eyes narrowing and becoming undecipherable. "I see your opinion about cowboys remains the same as when we first met."

  It really hadn't. Since she had been at the ranch and met such fine people as W.R. and Bonnie and so many other wranglers, she'd given up her negative opinion of cowboys, but she needed some kind of protection. And though it was a feeble defense against Brand's overpowering personality, she thought her sarcasm might help her to sidestep any future romantic notions.

  "Is that the real problem?" Brand continued as blunt as ever. "You've got something against jeans and cowboy boots?"

  "No, of course not," Dayna answered, disturbed that she felt so defensive.

  "That's good," he grinned, seemingly completely unaffected by her previous comment, "because, lady, you look great wearing them."

  His blue eyes sparkled at her mockingly. Dayna quickly looked down, knowing she had meant her earlier words to provoke him and make him angry. Instead, the opposite seemed to have happened. She was fighting embarrassment while he was sitting back in the chair looking thoroughly amused.

  A teenager wearing a white jacket and straw hat arrived bearing two enormous chocolate sodas, heavily laden with whipped cream and nuts. Dayna listened with interest as he asked Brand some questions about the upcoming rodeo and then shared a private joke about a bull named Gentle Ride.

  Brand still wore an indulgent smile as the boy walked away. He commented matter-of-factly, "He's been entering bronc-riding competitions up until now and thinks he's ready for the big time."

  "Bull riding?"

  "Uh huh." He laughed and pushed his hat back to a cocky angle on his head. "I was the same way at his age. The old I've-got-to-prove-I'm-a-man' syndrome."

  "I heard about the accident
with the bull."

  "From Bonnie, no doubt. It's no big deal."

  Still nettled over her previous embarrassment, she gave in to an impish impulse and baited him without thinking. "I suppose it takes a lot of courage to do it after you've been hurt."

  A gaze as cold as ice was turned on her. "What are you saying? I don't have it?"

  The underlying anger in his voice made her aware that her gibe had touched him. The consequences of her snide remark suddenly became more important to her than anything else. "No," she answered, vigorously shaking her head. Worried that he was truly offended and would take her words as a challenge, she added quickly, "I didn't mean that the way it sounded." But his handsome features were still tense, and Dayna tried to undo what she thoughtlessly might have started. "You were badly hurt. It would be foolish to compete again."

  His head tilted slightly, questioningly, and his gaze softened at the concern he heard in her voice. She was much too sensitive to be sarcastic with someone, he thought. Her tender heart would always make her vulnerable. His eyes glinted with mischievous lights. "I might get another scar if I compete. They make nice battle wounds and gain attention," he said with a grin, offering Dayna the cherry from his soda. "Some women find a hidden scar sexy."

  Dayna gave a noncommittal shrug and directed her attention to spooning the ice cream from her soda. "No one can see the one you've got now, can they? It's on your leg."

  His blond brow arched in response, making Dayna aware she'd said too much. His smile could only be interpreted as devilish as he ran his fingers along the upper part of his inner thigh and partially into his groin. "It's right here."

  "Oh." As Dayna's eyes followed his hand's movement, the color rose to her face. It was quite clear that the only way anyone would see his so-called battle wound was if he was naked. Her face crimsoned even more, and she wondered with a frown how he had managed to turn the tables on her again.

  Quickly she changed the subject, hoping as she gestured with her spoon toward the soda he wouldn't tease her about the blush. "This is very good." Brand's eyes were fixed on her, the deep, contemplative look daring Tier to look back at him. Not willing to meet his gaze, she concentrated on the nostalgic decor and hoped he'd say something to end the nervous one-sided conversation she was engaging in. "It's really marvelous the way they've made it so authentic."