Texas Fierce (The Tylers of Texas 4)

“Sorry,” Bull said. “This is Rose. Jasper, my foreman, is her uncle. She’s come from the hill country to stay with him and help out. Rose, this is Susan. She’s visiting with the neighbors.”

“Hi, Rose,” Susan said.

“Sorry we can’t shake hands.”

“Hi. I’m pleased to meet you.” The girl sounded shy. Even soaking wet and dressed in ragged clothes that looked far too big, she was a pretty little thing. Her long-lashed, hazel eyes were set below striking black brows, her dark-blond hair caught back in a ponytail. Only when she turned away did Susan see the birthmark that spilled like a wine stain down the left border of her face. Even with that, Rose could be a beauty someday, she thought.

Bull and Rose worked together to wash the dog in the tub, Bull holding the big mutt still while Rose soaped and scrubbed its fur. Despite the horrific smell, which Susan was slowly getting used to, they almost seemed to be having fun. Crazy as it was, she found herself wanting to get involved.

“If you need an extra pair of hands, I could man the hose for you,” she offered. “That way you wouldn’t have to get up to turn it on and off.”

“You’re sure?” Bull’s gaze took in her spotless white linen shirt, freshly washed jeans, and designer boots. “There’s no way you won’t get wet and smelly.”

“It’s only clothes. Besides, you two look like you’re having way too much fun.” Susan picked up the hose and took her place at the faucet. Close up, the mucky odor was even more powerful, but she resolved to ignore it. Somehow, helping Bull wash his dogs felt like exactly what she needed.

The dog in the tub was covered in soap suds. By now the big mutt was getting restless. It began to struggle, trying to climb out of the tub. Bull grabbed it around the neck. “Hose him off!” he shouted at Susan.

Susan turned the hose on full blast, stepped in close, and aimed the spray at the dog. Bull was getting soaked, as well. He was swearing and laughing. Rose was laughing, too.

Wriggling loose from Bull’s arms, the dog clambered out of the tub. Susan managed to give the mutt one last blast with the hose before it shook its coat. Smelly water flew in all directions. Dripping wet, Susan collapsed in helpless laughter as the dog raced across the yard.

Rose turned off the tap. “Uh-oh. Now he’s going to roll in the dirt,” she said.

Bull pulled Susan to her feet. “Let him. With luck the dirt will soak up the rest of the smell and fall off as it dries. Right now we’ve got one more dog to wash.”

The second dog was even more rambunctious than its brother. By the time it was rinsed off and set free, Bull, Rose, and Susan were all soaked and filthy.

Bull turned Rose toward the house. “You get the first shower, young lady. And throw those clothes in the trash, shoes and all. They’re done for. And you can add tying the dogs up to your nighttime chores. We can’t have those rascals running off again. Now go!”

“All right. I’m going.” Rose scampered toward the house. Susan stood next to Bull, watching her go. “There’s something about that girl,” she said, thinking aloud. “She’s not from the hill country, is she? And I’m betting she’s not really Jasper’s niece.”

Alarm flickered across Bull’s face. “What makes you think that?”

“I met Jasper the night you shot your bull to save me. As I remember, that drawl of his was thick enough to butter bread. Rose doesn’t talk like that at all. She sounds as if she’s lived somewhere else, maybe had some education. Why did you lie to me, Bull?”

He sighed and shook his head. “The truth is we’re protecting the girl. She saw something she shouldn’t, and if the wrong people get wind of it, they’ll come after her. We can’t let them find out she’s here.” His blue eyes seemed to darken. “That’s why I lied. But now you know the truth. Can I trust you to keep our secret?”

“Of course.” Susan remembered eavesdropping on Bull’s earlier confrontation with Ham. He’d mentioned a witness. Now Rose’s presence made sense. But she wasn’t about to bring it up. Bull had been right. The less she knew, or pretended to know, the better. “I’d never do anything that might cause harm to a child,” she said.

“Then you’re not to say anything about her. Not even to your family.” He paused, as if leaving something unsaid. “If word gets out, Rose could die. I’m trusting you with her life. Understand?”

“Yes. Your secret is safe with me. Cross my heart.” She traced the imaginary X over her chest. Following his glance down, she realized that her wet shirt had molded to her skin. Her nipples jutted like dark nubs beneath the thin, almost transparent, fabric. Heat flooded her face. She wanted Bull to look at her, she realized. She wanted him to touch her . . . everywhere.

But wouldn’t that just open up a whole new Pandora’s Box of troubles?

Needing a diversion, she reached for the hose and turned on the water again. “You need a good hosing down,” she said, directing a stream at his hair, then moving it down to his clothes.

He laughed as the cold water flowed off him, washing away most of the mud and stench from the dog bath. “Now it’s your turn!” he said, grabbing the nozzle and turning the water on her. “You can’t go back home smelling like a swamp!”

Go back home. Yes, Susan reminded herself, she would have to show up at the Prescott Ranch like this. She was going to need a good story.

The water was cold, but it felt good to be clean—or at least cleaner. Bull turned off the faucet and dropped the hose. They stood face-to-face, the sun reflecting rainbows in the drops that clung to their hair and skin. Susan looked up into his eyes and saw the hunger—a hunger she felt to the warm, shimmering depths of her body. She was trembling. Her lips moved, releasing a whisper of need.

Without a word, he took her hand and led her into the shadows of the barn. With a little moan of surrender, she flung herself into his arms. He caught her close, molding her body to his as his mouth devoured her with kisses. They clung together, curves and hollows seeking and fitting as if their bodies had been fashioned just for each other.

Desire was a throbbing pulse in Susan’s body. She felt him against her, hard through his wet jeans. She wanted what he could give her—and what she sensed she could give him. But no, they both knew it wasn’t going to happen. Rose was nearby in the house, and the Rimrock’s hired hands could show up at any time.

Cradling her head against the hollow of his throat, Bull held her. He swallowed, finding his voice. “Don’t marry Ferg, Susan. Go home. Go to college. Wait for me to make this ranch a place you’ll be proud of. It’ll happen, I promise. And when it’s ready, I’ll come for you. I can’t ask you to wait, but—”