Ivan was still in the driveway, in the intense heat, working on a truck. She knew she needed to talk to him – she couldn’t avoid him forever. But how could she make him understand that everything had changed now – that her life here in America depended on her staying with Langdon? She had to think of Quin…
She strode past him, hoping he’d notice.
“Samira…” he called out.
She pretended to ignore him. If they were going to have this conversation, they couldn’t have it out here in front of the house.
He caught up with her. “What’s going on? What was in the suitcase? Who was the kid?”
“Ivan, leave me alone. I told you I don’t want you here.”
He blocked her path. “Are you in some kind of trouble? I can help you.”
“No. I just need you to leave.”
She headed toward the livery yard. He followed.
“Samira, what’s Langdon making you do? Tell me okay – I know you’re not comfortable doing anything illegal.”
She felt so ashamed of what she’d become. How could she tell him? Surely that would make him hate her…
Without replying she strode toward the stable that contained her horse. The musty smell here was relaxing – and the horses never wanted her to be anything but herself. Spending time with them was one of her daily pleasures. They were so kind and gentle, yet powerful and liberating. When she was grooming them, she could forget herself – she could be part of something bigger than the person she’d become. And riding them allowed her to travel faster and stronger than her own body would ever allow. They were inspiring… she loved them.
There was a row of seven wooden stables on each side of the livery yard, all containing one horse each. The ranch hands often used these horses for getting from A to B – and sometimes for rounding up the cattle when they couldn’t use their quad bikes in the smaller spaces. The horse who Samira had made friends with was docile and he was always pleased to see her. She leaned on the half-door of his stable, and he poked out his head for her to stroke. The feel of his velvety nose on her fingertips made her smile.
Ivan halted beside her and leaned against the wooden wall. He looked gorgeous – shirtless, muscles glistening with sweat and engine oil. Her heart twisted with love for him.
He held up his hands showing he meant no harm. “So how did you meet him, then? Langdon.”
Samira sighed. “After my college funding got cut and I was told to leave America, I was on a train traveling from California to Texas – I don’t even know why I wanted to come to Texas… maybe I thought I could hide out from the authorities here. Anyway, he was on the train on his way here and we got talking. He offered me the chance to stay in America by pretending to be his wife, so we arrived together, pretending to be a happily married Mr. and Mrs. Langdon.”
“He was new to the ranch too?”
“Yeah, so the staff had no idea that we weren’t actually married yet. Mr. Langdon had said that his late-wife had died last year in unusual circumstances, and he was keen for me to take her place.”
“But you didn’t expect to be dragged into anything illegal?”
She stroked the horse on the nose and shook her head. “He failed to mention that point, yeah.”
“Samira, come on, you don’t have to do whatever it is he’s making you do.”
She pulled open the door and ambled inside the stable box, enjoying the feel of the straw beneath her feet, and patting the horse gently on his flank. He whinnied in reply.
Ivan lingered by the door. “You can just leave with me, babe. Right now.”
She gazed at him, trying to stifle her tears. “You left me. You faked your own death. What did you expect me to do? It’s too late, Ivan. There’s nothing you can give me now.”
He stepped inside to join her in the cool dark space. “Oh yes there is. I’m not leaving here without you, sweetheart. I mean it.”
She reached up to stroke the horse, but Ivan grabbed her upper-arm and pulled her close, then kissed her hard. Samira tried to resist him, but he was so commanding and strong – she wanted to submit to his hot masculinity. She lifted her arm to slap him – it’d worked last time – but he stared at her firmly – refusing to take no for an answer.
Her body needed his touch. She threw her arms around his strong shoulders and kissed him passionately, relishing the feel of his lips on hers, then she dropped back her head so he could kiss her neck and collarbone.
She gasped as the lust rushed up inside her, filling her with an urgent desire to make love to him here and now.
“You’re mine, Samira,” he said, between kisses. “I need you, and you need me.”
He unbuttoned the front of her dress with his strong fingers, revealing her bra-less breasts, then he bent and sucked her rock-hard nipple, causing light-headed lust to shoot through her yearning body. He ran his other hand downward and gripped her ass in his fingers, running them between her thighs so the material of her dress skimmed her flesh.