The Rancher's Virgin Acquisition

"Mind?"

"Yes, mind. You're supposed to do as I say."

"I am?"

"Yes, damn it! I give an order and you obey it."

"I'm not a child."

He dropped his ruthless gaze from hers and his eyes landed briefly on her lips where they stayed for the count of three long beats before lowering even further and landing on her chest.

"No, you're not." His agreement came low, deep, and slow.

Emma felt a tingling in her breasts from the heated look that slid slowly through her body and ended in a shameful rush between her thighs. She sucked in a breath as she realized he was looking her over with carnal intent and that her body was responding to it.

Had any man ever looked at her in that way? Absolutely none that she could remember. The few times she'd held the attention of a man it had always been fleeting; a man would notice her lame leg and the look would change. It would change to pity, and sometimes possibly, regret.

But here was a man, and dear God, what a man, looking at her in such a way that made her feel like a woman. It made her feel things she'd never experienced before. Oh, she knew it couldn't last, of course, it couldn't. But for now, for this short period in time, Luke Butler wasn't looking at her as if she wasn't whole, wasn't good enough.

It was a heady feeling, to be sure, and a women's intuition she'd only just discovered she had, was telling her that as long as he thought her injury was temporary, he would continue to look at her thusly.

It was too tempting of an idea to even contemplate telling him the truth just now. Emma knew it was wrong, that fabrications were never right, but a little red devil in her head was whispering that she might never have a chance like this again. A chance for a man to see her as just a woman, not as a broken one.

Her stomach clenched in butterflies as she thought about the possibilities. She didn't know how long she would be on his ranch, days only probably, but the possibility that she might experience the one thing that all women wanted someday in their life was tempting.

A man's kiss.

She was twenty-two years old and had never in her life been this close to a man.

Her heart beat loudly in her ears as she stared at the handsome man hanging over her now.

The broad light of day spilling through the windows only confirmed what she had thought last night. He was an incredibly good-looking specimen. And if she looked on this as an experience, and not like she was embroiled in a subterfuge, maybe her conscience wouldn't bang quite as loudly.

As soon as the idea of him kissing her came to mind, it wouldn't let go. Her eyes strayed to his lips and she wondered what they would feel like pressed to hers.

They were firm and masculine; the muscles tightening at his jaw transforming them into lines of clear cut marble. Yet they were full and looked incredibly soft.

That was silly. She berated herself for the thought. How could they look soft? Her eyes dropped to the wide shoulders above his thick chest. No, there wasn't anything soft about him.

Emma was shocked out of her ruminations when a rough hand lifted her chin and brought his gaze searing into hers.

"I know you're not a child. That's half the problem."

She steadied the breath coming in and out of her lungs and asked, "Why is it a problem?"

He didn't answer that question and got back to his original point. "You've got to do as I say, Emma. This is a ranch in the West, not a drawing room in the East. You're not used to it out here, you have no idea what could happen to you." His thumb rubbed tantalizingly over her cheek. "And you're hurt. You need to stay inside and give yourself time to heal."

Emma hung in animated suspension from his grip on her chin, the caress of his fingers and knew this was the time. The time to tell him the truth. Her conscience was screaming at her to tell him. Tell him already! If she told him, she could spend the few days she would have here in the vegetable garden, outside in the sunlight, maybe even walking to the barn and seeing the animals on the ranch. But the little devil in her head was held enthralled by his touch. If she nodded her head in agreement, he would continue to look at her this way. He might touch her again. He might even kiss her.

She desperately wanted to be kissed before she died.

She tried for noncommittal, "I like the garden, what I've seen of your ranch is beautiful."

Her words were spoken from the heart and truth rang from them.

His eyes creased in pleasure and then, slowly, his whole hand encompassed her cheek in his big palm. "I'm glad you like it, but that doesn't change things. You need to stay off that ankle. It won't take long, a week at most."

"But I'll be gone in a week."

His face stiffened and his arms went rigid. "Maybe not."

She didn't continue along that path and merely nodded her head in agreement. "I'll try my best to stay off my feet."

"You'll do more than try, Emma."

She bit her lip at the tone in his voice and wondered if this was another example much like the previous evening where he issued an order that didn't have to be obeyed. Was he only hoping she'd do as he asked?

She couldn't tell. He sounded as if he meant it. Authority rang clearly from his voice.

"Yes, sir."

He let out a low growl in his throat. "I've told you not to call me that."

His hands moved to her shoulders and gripped her. His skin pulled taut over his cheekbones and his nostrils flared.

This close up, Emma was doing everything she could not to faint in her chair. His face was cut in granite lines, and his black-clad figure was massive, moving toward hers as if he would occupy the same space. His hands gripped her in a deathly hold that felt like possession, like he had every right to touch her in that manner and the muscles in his neck were tightening and pulsing, showing the veins and tendons that were the picture of strength itself.

His head was leaning into hers and suddenly the close proximity sent nerves screaming through her. She leaned away and said the first thing she could think of to sidetrack him because thinking about being kissed by him and it actually happening were two entirely different things. "Do you think the sheriff will go after the men who robbed the stage?"

He seemed to freeze in place above her. His jaw clenched tight and he lifted himself away from the chair she sat in and stood to his full height. "Yeah, at first light this morning, he and his men were leaving. They'll get 'em."

"When will--when will he know about me? I mean--that I was on the stage and now I'm here with you?"

"He knows already."

"How?"

"I sent one of my men to town with a message. He knows you're here with me, that you're unhurt except for the sprain." He turned in her direction and looked fully at her and his voice dropped a degree. "He knows you're under my protection."

r /> Emma swallowed and the blood began to pound in her temples. Heat stole over her face, and his words sent a quiver of both fear and excitement down her spine. Under his protection. It sounded so innocuous at first thought, but she didn't believe his meaning was innocuous at all. There was something in his tone that she'd never heard anyone use before. "How long will I be here?"

"I don't know for sure. I can't answer that yet. Cody will be back tonight and I'll have a better idea of what's going on."

"And my things? I don't even have a change of clothes." She lowered her eyes and confessed, "And I think my dress needs to be laundered. I'm afraid I managed to get it dirty."

"That wouldn't have happened if you'd stayed put."

"Yes," she agreed mildly.

"I'll have Maria find you something to wear while she's washing your things."

"I don't want to be any trouble, I can wash my own clothes."

"Guess you should have thought of that before you went gallivanting all over the countryside." His voice was back to being hard and sarcastic.

"All over the countryside? I went in the yard." Her tone held a touch of annoyance.

The look he gave her indicated he wasn't pleased with her argument. "But you wouldn't have fallen on your sweet little backside and tracked dirt through my kitchen if you'd been minding me, now would you?"

"What do you want from me? I apologized once already. I'm sorry. I'll try to do better." Her words were stilted.

"I don't want you to try to do better, Emma. I want you to do better. Stay put. This is rough country. What if there'd been a snake? Or an Indian?"

"An Indian?" her voice quavered.

He was lying about that, he knew. The threat of Indians was almost nil on his ranch. He was just trying to scare her a bit. Put some fear in her. Until she healed properly, outside on his ranch was no place for her. "Could happen," he replied as casually as he could.

Luke and Emma both heard the bang of the box on the counter at the same time and they turned to see Maria with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face looking at Luke like she didn't recognize who he was. Her voice fairly bristled when she spoke. "What kind of nonsense are you scaring her with?"