Did he feel the same? Sky took a step toward her, leaning close. Lauren’s pulse skittered as she readied herself for a kiss, but he only sniffed the air above her head. “I can tell you one thing right now,” he said. “You’re wearing perfume, and this horse hates the smell of it.”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought—” Lauren swore silently. She had dabbed her earlobes, the back of her neck and the hollow between her breasts with a pricey fragrance that, according to the ads, was supposed to make men melt. Evidently it didn’t work on horses—or on Sky Fletcher.
A smile teased the corner of his grim mouth. “In case you’re wondering, I think you smell fine,” he said. “But if you’re going to be around this horse, you’d better get rid of that scent. There’s a faucet outside the barn door. Go and rinse off as much as you can.”
So much for seduction. Reaching the barn, Lauren found the faucet, turned it on, and began splashing cold water on the spots where she’d dabbed perfume. It was good perfume, formulated to last. Even after she’d finished dousing herself, she could still smell the sweet, musky aroma.
By the time she made it back to the corral, Sky had a second horse, a drowsy-looking bay mare, saddled and waiting. “We’re going for a ride,” he said. “I’ll take your horse, and you can tag along on this lady. Her name’s Belle.”
“Is she the one you save for seniors and children?” Lauren tried a feeble joke.
“She’s a great cow pony, and her foals a
re some of the best on the ranch. You should be honored to ride her.” Evidently, where his horses were concerned, the man had no sense of humor.
“Then I’ll treat her as the lady she is.” Lauren moved past Storm Cloud to get to the mare. The big black horse snorted and laid back its ears. “I’m starting to take this personally.”
“If I can still smell that perfume, so can the horse. We’ll need to camouflage that. Come here.” Beckoning her close, Sky turned and ran a finger under the edge of the saddle pad where the gelding’s warm hide was soaked with perspiration. “Hold still,” he murmured, stroking his moist fingertip along the side of her throat and up behind her ear.
“You’re making me smell like horse sweat!” Lauren hissed.
“Urine works even better. So does manure, if you’d rather have that. Hold still.” Collecting more of the dampness, he circled the back of her neck, working the horse smell into the base of her hair. The strangeness of it—the pungent aroma and the light pressure of Sky’s touch—awakened whorls of subtle sensation. The feeling shimmered downward to pulse like a glowing current in the depths of her body. Her lips parted. She stifled a moan as his fingers spread the scent over her damp chest and slid downward to the deep vee of her wet shirt front, where she’d tried to splash the perfume away from the hollow between her breasts.
His breathing had gone rough. She could feel the tension in him, the conflict as he struggled against the urge to move his hand lower. Blast the man! He must know what they both wanted. Why didn’t he just give in?
Driven by impulse, she seized his wrist and tugged his hand down to cup her breast. He groaned. A shudder passed through his body as his fingers closed on her tingling softness. His free hand caught her waist and jerked her close, grinding her hips against him as his mouth crushed hers. The ground seemed to spin under Lauren’s feet. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the waves of torrid heat that surged through her body . . . .
But only for a moment. Then Sky was shoving her away from him, holding her at arm’s length. His hooded eyes burned as hot and blue as gas jets.
“Not here.” His voice was a growl. “We’ve got an audience.”
His head jerked in the direction of the yard, where one of the cowhands was strolling toward the bunkhouse. Only the horses, blocking the view, had kept him from getting an eyeful.
“And not now,” he said. “I promised Beau that if you came back to work on the books, I’d keep my distance.”
“You told Beau?” Lauren’s cheeks blazed.
“He guessed after he found your earring behind the computer. It’ll be in the desk drawer when you want it back.” He turned toward the black horse again. “Come on, let’s ride. We’ll take it slow for the horses.”
Sky headed southeast, keeping the late afternoon sun at their backs. They rode single file across the brushy landscape, Sky in front on Storm Cloud, Lauren on Belle a few yards behind him. He’d warned her to keep the mare at a distance so she wouldn’t distract the big black. But he suspected that Lauren’s silence had little to do with the horses. He’d done it again—wounded her womanly pride. If he was getting the silent treatment now, it was no worse than he deserved.
Lord, did she have any idea how hard it had been to push her away? All he’d really wanted to do was drag her into the barn, throw her down in the hay, and thrust his sex deep into that lush, willing body. He knew she’d wanted it, too. That was why she’d shown up smelling like a high-class French cathouse, with her blouse unbuttoned to the point of luscious indecency.
The horse had been nothing more than an excuse. He understood that. But Storm Cloud was a magnificent animal, and his trust issues were real. If anything could be done for him, Sky resolved to do it. He kept his touch light but firm, guiding as much with his knees as with his hands. He could sense the resistance in the big gelding. What was the creature afraid of?
“What do you know about this horse?” he asked Lauren. “Where did he come from?”
“Sorry, can you say that again, louder?” Her voice came from a dozen yards back.
Sky glanced over his shoulder, making sure she could hear. “Bring the mare up even with us. Not too close. Let’s see how he does with the two of you next to him.”
Nudging the mare to a trot, she came up alongside, keeping a safe distance between the two horses. The gelding tensed and snorted but kept to his brisk walking pace. Heat waves shimmered in the distance, blurring the air above the sunbaked land. A lone vulture circled against the blazing turquoise sky.
“Storm Cloud’s behaving just fine for you,” Lauren said.
“But not because he wants to. I can feel the fear in every step he takes. It would help to have some idea of what’s bothering him.”
“It’s not just the perfume,” Lauren said. “He misbehaves with the cowboys, too.”