He didn’t immediately step away.

“She’s catching on pretty well,” he said to Katie. Then he leaned around and brushed a lock of hair from Sydney’s cheek. “She’ll be running barrels in no time.” He gave her shoulders a little squeeze before shifting away.

Sydney blinked at him in amazement. She’d never met anyone so caring and attentive. It was almost as if… She stopped herself. He was playacting. Wow. He was very good at it.

Katie let go of the horse’s bridle and reached for Sydney’s hand. “So you are staying for a while?”

“Okay with you?” Cole asked.

“Of course it is.” Katie gave Sydney’s hand a quick squeeze. “You’re welcome to stay with us as long as you like.”

Cole led Clarabelle to the post and tied her alongside his black horse while Katie insisted they come in.

The visit didn’t last long before pillars of black clouds moved down the valley. Soon, fat raindrops plunked onto the warm earth and battered against the windows.

Kyle arrived, taking refuge from the storm, shaking his hat and wiping raindrops off his face.

Katie greeted him with a hug and a kiss, and Cole moved up close to Sydney’s ear. “Okay,” he whispered, glancing surreptitiously at his brother and sister-in-law. “This is perfect.”

“What? You mean me?” Was she hitting just the right note here?

“No. I mean the rain.”

Oh. Sydney glanced out the window. Perfect wasn’t exactly the word she’d use to describe the growing torrent. “Is there a forest fire or something?”

“No. But the horses are all wet now. And so is the tack. It’s going to be a miserable ride back to my place.” Cole sounded unnaturally excited by the prospect.

Sydney grimaced. “Well, it doesn’t get much more perfect than that, does it?” Her inner thighs chafed at the thought of getting back on a dry saddle, never mind a wet one.

He patted one of her shoulders. “You need to think strategically.”

“Okay.” She nodded slowly, trying to figure out how the rain fit into their plans. Would it flood the road? Maroon them together?

“When Kyle and Katie break it up back there,” said Cole, “I’ll suggest we ride home. Kyle will offer to ride Clarabelle, but you insist on doing it yourself.”

Sydney watched the raindrops battering the window pane. “And why would I do that?” Other than a latent masochistic streak.

“You want to be with me, of course. You’re dying to spend time with me, because I’m so sexy and irresistible.”

Sydney cocked her head to one side. “How could I possibly forget?”

“I don’t know. Thing is, if you’re willing to ride a wet horse through a rainstorm, Katie will know you’re in deep.”

It made sense, in a wet, squishy, ugly kind of way. Sydney steeled herself. So be it. She was prepared to take one for the Thunderbolt.

“So Kyle knows about the plan?” she asked.

Cole shook his head. “I just came up with it.”

“What if he doesn’t offer?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

She gave him a questioning look.

“If he didn’t offer, we’d have to kick him out of Texas. Now, no matter what he says, you ride that horse.”

“This is secretly revenge, isn’t it?”

Cole tapped the tip of her nose with his index finger. “Nah. When it’s revenge, you’ll know it.”


Cole’s plan worked like a charm.

Soon Sydney stood dripping wet and saddle sore in the middle of his cabin. And, though he was just as soaked as her, he had gallantly lit a fire then gone back outside to take care of the horses.

She’d briefly considered offering to help. But she was exhausted. Instead, she shook the droplets from her hands, finger-combed her hair and glanced around the little room.

She had to admit, the cabin was charming and homey in the rain. It was built of peeled logs that had mellowed to a golden yellow. The floor was hardwood, scattered with rugs, and the walls were decorated with antique pictures and hurricane lamps. The pieces weren’t valuable, but she suspected Cole’s ancestors had purchased them and handed them down over many generations.

She ran her finger along the stone fireplace mantel as she moved closer to the heat. It was only September, but there was a definite chill in the air. A plaid armchair with a folded knit blanket looked inviting. Too bad she’d soak the upholstery.

Cole returned, banging the door shut behind him.

“You should go get dry,” he said as he pulled off his dripping Stetson and hung it on a peg. “There are a couple of robes on the back of the bathroom door. I’ll make us a hot drink.”

“I should do something to help.” Not that she didn’t appreciate this gallant he-man stuff. But she was beginning to feel like a dead weight.

He shook off the sleeves of his denim shirt. “Don’t worry about it.”

But she did worry about it. He’d agreed to marry her, and she didn’t want him to change his mind because he thought she was high maintenance. “Am I keeping you from work?”

He jerked his thumb toward the kitchen window. “In that? Are you going to be a nagging wife?”

Sydney couldn’t help but smile. “Sorry.”

“Get dried off. I can’t marry you if you’ve got pneumonia.”

She gave up. She left Cole to the teakettle and closeted herself in the tiny bathroom, stripping off her wet clothes. There was barely room to turn around in there. She banged her butt against the pedestal sink and nearly fell into the claw-foot tub. But she managed to strip down, find some towels and rub her skin dry.

She chose a three-quarter-length, plaid flannel robe with buttons all the way up the front. The shoulders drooped halfway to her elbows, and she had to roll up the sleeves, but it was warm and comfortable. She hung her wet clothes over the shower curtain.

They reminded her that she needed to get back to Wichita Falls and check out of her hotel room. She couldn’t keep wearing Katie’s clothes, and she should really return the rental car.

She cringed, remembering the wires she’d yanked out of the motor. Should she confess the sabotage to Cole, or just wait until it was discovered and pay the damages? Hard to say. Ultimately, she’d rather give up money than mess up her chances with Cole.

She rubbed her hair dry and found a comb. Makeup, she’d have to do without.

When she wandered back into the living room, Cole’s gaze slid down her body, lingering on her bare feet. He cleared his throat. “You want some socks?”

She glanced down at the billowing flannel. The tails hung past her knees. “You might have hit on the one way to make this outfit less attractive.”

“You look fine.”

“I look like a refugee from Little House on the Prairie.”

Cole chuckled low. “Who cares? I’m a sure thing, remember?”

“That’s an excellent point. I’ve never had a man see me at my worst and not had to care about it.” She sat down in the big armchair and eased her saddle-sore legs under her. This was restful, in a bizarre sort of way.

All those years she’d spent fussing and primping and worrying. Cole could see her in a gunny sack and it wouldn’t make a bit of difference. Come to think of it, this was pretty close to a gunny sack.

“This is your worst?” asked Cole.

She smoothed back her wet hair and nodded. “Pretty close.”

“At least there’ll be no surprises in our marriage.” He headed into his bedroom.

Sydney leaned back into the soft cushions. He was forcing her to think past the wedding. What would they do? She had to take the Thunderbolt to New York. But what if Katie didn’t get pregnant right away?

Would they keep up the charade? And if they did, would Sydney stay here?

She scanned the cabin again. It was a quaint little place. Maybe too quaint.

The kettle let out a shrill whistle. She waited a couple seconds, but Cole didn’t appear. Finally she flipped off the blanket, groaned and straightened, then hustled toward the kitchen, nearly colliding with him as he appeared out of the bedroom.

He was shirtless. His feet were bare. And the button at the top of his clean jeans was undone, revealing a flash of skin below his washboard abs.

“Sorry.” She put up her hand to forestall the collision and it came flat against his chest.

His fingers closed over her elbow to steady her and his thighs brushed up against hers.

“You okay?” he asked

She nodded, her heart skipping double-time. This was one good-looking cowboy. He looked great in his clothes, but out of them… Hoo, boy.

He reached over and shut off the burner.

Then his hand came up to cover hers, pressing it into his chest. His skin was warm and smooth. She could feel his heart thudding against his rib cage.

Her fingers made out the ridge of a horizontal scar. It was an uneven gash, three inches long, and she wondered what had happened.

From the little she’d seen of his life, she knew it was rough and physical. But what had caused this? And what other secrets were there on the body she’d admired for two days?

Before she could voice a question, their gazes met. His eyes turned a deep, ocean blue, and she inhaled his scent, marveling at how familiar it had become.

He slowly reached out to stroke her hair. Sensations washed over her like warm rain, and she longed to lean into him and absorb the full warmth of his strength. She held his gaze instead, finding flecks of gray among the storm-tossed blue. His look was turbulent, challenging.

He dipped his head ever so slightly. Then he stopped and his eyelids came down in a long blink.

“Is it just me?” he asked, refocusing. “Or is this a really stupid idea?”

She couldn’t stop the slow, sultry smile that grew on her face. “It is a really stupid idea…”

His lips parted. “But…”

“Have we ever let that stop us before?”

Four