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  Ryder caught her against him and held her steady. “Hey, you all right?” He didn’t think so. She looked a little green around the gills.

  “I’m fine,” she said, and wished she meant it. She clutched his shirt and held on as if glued to it Soon, very soon, she was going to get her equilibrium back, she told herself.

  Ryder slipped his arm around her waist. “I don’t think so.” He held her tighter. Standing beside him, the top of her head came about to his shoulder. And she was so thin he could feel her ribs. He dug into his pocket and tossed some bills on the bar. “C‘mon, darlin’,” he urged and slowly moved toward the door. “I think some fresh air will make you feel better.”

  Afraid to let go for fear she’d pass out, Ashley leaned against him. When they reached the entrance to the bar, there was another cowboy standing in front of it, blocking their way.

  “Oh no, not again,” she murmured, nausea rushing through her stomach and damming in her throat.

  Ryder grinned down at her. “It’s okay. This is my brother, Deke.”

  Ashley had to force her head up. When she did, she met eyes identical to those of the cowboy who held her. Only these baby blues spoke openly of gentleness. He wasn’t as tall, though, nor as muscular as the man holding her.

  “Hello,” she managed to say.

  “Ma’am.” He touched the brim of his hat.

  “Get the door,” Ryder said to his brother.

  Not moving, Deke gave him a questioning look. “Maybe you’ve had more to drink than I thought.”

  Ryder straightened his spine, keeping his arm locked firmly around Ashley. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Deke nodded toward the girl. “She’s jailbait.”

  “I’m just helping her outside.” Ryder’s look was indignant. Deke raised an eyebrow. “That’s all?”

  “I swear,” Ryder replied curtly. “fill be back shortly.” He met Deke’s eyes with an expression of measured restraint. “Now, get the damn door.”

  Deke obliged, opening the door and stepping aside. Ryder guided Ashley through it and heard it close behind them. His gaze swept the dimly lit parking lot. “Which car is yours?”

  Ashley drew a breath of night air, then willed herself to look up. “That one,” she said, nodding toward her car.

  Ryder started forward.

  “Wait,” Ashley murmured. “I don’t feel so good.” Her head was spinning and her stomach ached. “Please, just give me a minute.”

  Ryder grimaced when she trembled in his arms. “You shouldn’t be traveling tonight.”

  Ashley felt as if the entire contents of her stomach were in her throat and she had a feeling she was going to embarrass herself very shortly. “I’m not I have a room.” Her hands shaking, she opened her purse and withdrew a key. She tried to read the number, but it swirled in front of her eyes. “Oh,” she moaned again.

  Ryder caught the key in his hand just as she dropped it. “C’mon.” He urged her forward. They’d gotten as far as the backside of the motel when she stopped abruptly.

  “I’m going to be sick,” she confessed and groaned, pain ripping through her.

  “We’re almost there,” Ryder said softly, encouraging her to continue. “Hold on.”

  Trying to steady herself, Ashley reached for the wooden post at the corner of the building. She bent over at the waist, her hand pressed against her stomach. “I can’t. I’m s-sorry.”

  Ryder grabbed hold of her. “It’s just another few steps,” he whispered encouragingly. He put his arm around her and urged her to start walking. Then he heard another anguished moan and knew he was out of time. He tried to maneuver her to the nearest grassy area. “Hold on, darn’, hold on...hold on. Wait. Whoa, darlin’, not my...boots,” he groaned. Quickly, he grasped her long black hair and held it back from her face.

  “Oh, my,” Ashley wailed, realizing what she’d done. “Oh,” she moaned again and grabbed her stomach as it cramped and twisted.

  “It’s all right,” Ryder murmured, feeling sorry for her and a little sick himself. His arm was fast around her, supporting her slight weight. A few moments later he asked gently, “You finished for now?”

  Ashley put a hand to her head. “I don’t know.” She took a step forward, then staggered.

  Bending, Ryder swept her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way. She was soft and featherlight, easy in his arms. Checking the number on the key, he stopped in front of her motel room. He balanced her on his knee while he unlocked the door.

  “I’m so sorry,” she moaned, her eyes closed.

  “Hush,” he whispered, opening the door. Flipping on the light, he tossed his hat in a chair, then carried her through to the bathroom where he carefully put her on her feet.

  Ashley opened her eyes and clutched the bathroom sink, her knuckles turning white from the strain of keeping herself upright. “I’ll be all right now. Thank you.”

  Ryder wasn’t paying attention. He ran the cold water and soaked a washcloth. Sitting on the toilet lid, he tugged her onto his lap, then gently bathed her face. He couldn’t help worrying about her. She looked white as a sheet.

  Ashley sank against him, appreciating his strength, his caring attention. She couldn’t remember the last time someone took such care of her.

  Ryder tossed the washcloth aside, then filled a nearby glass with water. “Here. Rinse and spit.”

  Automatically Ashley complied. She was too out of it to argue. Her mouth tasted better now and she faintly realized the water must have had something minty in it.

  “How much did you have to drink?” Ryder asked.

  Ashley’s eyelids slid closed, then slowly opened again about halfway. She tried very hard to focus on her rescuer’s handsome face. “Two.”

  “Two beers!” he repeated. “You’re drunk on two beers?”

  “Probably the medicine,” she mumbled, then her eyes drifted shut again as a lazy, relaxed sensation stole through her.

  Ryder’s jaw tautened. “Medicine? What kind of medicine?” She didn’t answer and he grasped her chin and lightly shook her head. “What kind of medicine, Ashley?” He let go and her head slumped against his shoulder.

  Ashley’s eyes remained closed. She was faintly aware of his voice calling to her. She wanted to tell him she’d be fine, to thank him and send him on his way. Exhausted, she just couldn’t seem to find the strength to do it.

  Ryder pressed his hand against her cheek and held her for a moment. Had she passed out or simply gone to sleep? Not sure, he carried her to the bed, tugged the covers down and lowered her to the mattress. He removed her shoes and dropped them on the floor beside the bed.

  Now what? Ryder thought. Should I undress her? He ran a glance over her. The top button of her silky white blouse had come undone, exposing the soft swell of her breasts. Her skirt had slid up to the top of her thighs, scarcely protecting what it covered. Despite her innocence, he’d been in a state of arousal since he’d set eyes on her. Taking her clothes off would only aggravate the problem. Grimacing, he pulled at the top sheet and spread it over her.

  She’d taken some sort of medicine. Ryder walked to the dresser, however there was nothing there but a wrinkled map. Spotting her suitcases in the corner, he rummaged through them. He held up something soft and silky—what there was of it—two thin straps and a scrap of creamy material. Groaning, he tossed it back in the suitcase. Finding nothing, he gave up.

  Then he remembered her purse and retrieved it from the bathroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he spread its contents out. Immediately he spotted the brown bottle. Picking it up, he turned it over in his hand and read the label.

  Valium.

  Only, the prescription wasn’t in her name. He tucked that away to think about later. Ryder’s gaze swept over Ashley. Looking young and innocent, she lay sleeping. The sight of her touched something deep inside him. She needed someone, and he found himself wanting to shield her from the pain she’d sought to escape by taking pills.

>   “Darlin’, what in the world landed you in the Blue Eagle Bar?” he asked aloud. And what on earth would a woman like her need to take Valium for? More importantly, how much had she taken? Swearing under his breath, Ryder stuffed her belongings back in her purse.

  “Hell,” he muttered, wondering what to do with her. He decided against calling a doctor, because he didn’t really know if she’d taken too many pills. However, he didn’t feel right leaving her alone. It seemed best just to keep an eye on her for a while.

  Ryder unbuttoned his shirt and stripped it off, then walked around and sat on the opposite side of the bed. Sighing heavily, he reached for one of his boots, then stopped.

  Hell.

  Muttering a soft string of curses he removed both boots and strode to the bathroom to clean them. He washed up, turned off the lights and went back to the bed. He lay down, keeping to his own side, trying really hard not to think of what an alluring picture she made. Something inside his gut tightened, something he labeled lust. Propping his head against the pillow, he stared at the ceiling.

  The next thing Ryder heard was the bed squeak. He opened his eyes. realizing he must have dozed off. He groaned and sat up, quickly looking around, adjusting his eyes to the darkness. A glance at the clock on the bedside table told him he’d been asleep for several hours.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  Ryder’s gaze went to the direction of Ashley’s soft voice. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, silhouetted by a beam of moonlight coming in from the cheap curtains on the window.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, concerned. His voice was hoarse. He attributed it to sleep rather than the fact that she’d changed into that tiny scrap of creamy silk. It glistened in the moonbeams and played havoc with his sanity.

  “Better, but I’m still a little woozy.” Ashley could still feel the effects of the beer or the medicine. Or, she wondered, did her light-headedness have something to do with the man beside her? Her stomach had calmed down and now it was her heart she was having trouble controlling.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” Ryder asked.

  Ashley looked at his face through the shadows. His concern touched a deep place inside her that she hadn’t allowed anyone near in a long, long time. Besides her mother, who had died when she was young, no one had ever cared about her. Not really. “You were sleeping so peacefully.” She lifted the covers.

  “What are you doing?” Ryder asked. The pitch of his voice rose a little.

  “Getting back into bed.” Not looking at him, Ashley quickly slid under the covers, her heart pounding from his nearness and from what she was thinking.

  Ryder sat up straighter, every muscle in his body tensing. “Are you used to getting into bed with strange men?” he asked tightly.

  Ashley smiled in the darkness. She had never done anything like this before. She only knew that for once in her life she wanted to be more than Jacob Bennett’s daughter. Tears came to her eyes as she remembered that she’d only been a bargaining tool for him. What a fool she’d been to believe her fiancé had cared for her. “Of course not,” she whispered in the stillness that stretched out between them.

  Ryder felt a strange sense of relief when he heard her answer. Still, he figured it was pure trouble for her to be lying so close to him with next to nothing on. “You’re not afraid of me?”

  Ashley settled on her side, facing him, her eyes searching what she could see of his expression through the moonlight illuminating the room. He seemed a little uneasy. Could it be that he felt the same magnetic pull between them that she did? She hung on to that thought.

  “No.”

  Stretching out beside her, Ryder propped his head on his hand. “Why not?” His voice was husky. He touched her dark hair, then picked up a strand and curled it around his finger. It was soft and silky and made him want to run his hands through it.

  Ashley caught her breath. This man was a stranger and yet he wasn’t. He’d been kind to her, had taken care of her. She didn’t know why, but suddenly it didn’t matter that they’d just met.

  For once in her life she felt reckless, even a little bold. Maybe she was still under the effects of the medicine and beer. Maybe not. Maybe she was just reacting to Martin’s betrayal. Or possibly she just wanted to be loved, just this once. She wanted a “night out of time” that she could tuck away in her heart.

  “Because you took care of me,” she answered simply. She touched her palm to Ryder’s unshaven cheek. It was a little coarse, but beneath her hand she felt the tightening of his jaw. His warm breath fanned her wrist. “Do you do that often?”

  Ryder’s eyes connected with hers through the deep shadows. “What?”

  “Rescue women.” Ashley waited for his answer, her breath catching in her throat, her heart pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it.

  “Sometimes,” he said, and beneath his mustache his lips curved upward into a boyish grin.

  “Do you usually end up sleeping with them?” she asked softly. Though he’d slept in her bed, they both knew that wasn’t what she was talking about. The question ignited the air, and it crackled between them.

  “I don’t make it a habit.”

  “And now?” she asked in a whisper. Ashley moved closer to him, close enough to breathe in his male scent, close enough to see the pulse beating in his throat. She could feel his heat drawing her nearer still. Reaching out, she stroked his hard-muscled shoulder. She touched her hand to the small area of hair nestled in the center of his chest.

  “Ashley.” Her name came out on a groan. Ryder gently grasped her wrist, intending to remove her hand from his body. Just the slightest touch from her and he was as hard as a rock.

  “Darlin’, no.” Beneath his palm he felt the rapid beat of her pulse.

  Hurt vibrated through Ashley and she drew away. “Why not?” she asked very quietly. Tears stung her eyes. No one had ever wanted her. Not for herself. Not for the person she was. Only because she was Ashley Bennett.

  Ryder gently stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckles. “Don’t,” he said when he felt the dampness at the cornet of her eye. She started to pull away and he stopped her, smoothing his hand down her back. “God, don’t cry.” He leaned over and brushed a featherlight kiss across her mouth, pulling away before he gave in to the temptation to taste her thoroughly.

  She responded by sliding her arms around his neck. Ryder could feel the heat of her body against his own, the softness of her full breasts pressing against his chest through the silky material covering them. Suddenly she didn’t seem so innocent. She looked like a woman. She felt like a woman. She tasted like a woman.

  “You don’t want this,” he said, his voice husky with need, his body throbbing for her, his mouth only inches from hers.

  “Yes,” Ashley whispered, her heart in her throat, “I do. Kiss me. Please, Ryder.”

  Ryder liked the sound of his name on her lips. Too damn much. He wanted to hear her say his name in the throes of passion, wanted to hear her cry it out when he was deep inside her, so deep he would lose himself in her.

  “Ah, darlin’,” he groaned, “you don’t know what you’re saying.”

  Ashley strained toward him, lifting her lips to within a breath of his. “I want you. I know that,” she answered.

  Her hand stroked his face, then cupped the back of his neck and pulled his head down until her mouth touched his. Her tongue traced the line of his lip beneath his mustache, then flitted over his bottom lip, teasing his mouth open.

  Ryder groaned and rolled on top of her, covering her mouth with his. Her heat consumed him as he slipped his tongue into her mouth and found hers. She met him timidly, yet her shyness and inexperience easily fueled the inferno that raged through his body.

  Struggling for control, Ryder lifted his mouth. He licked his lips, still tasting her honeyed sweetness. His hands held her face so that she couldn’t look away.

  “There’s more involved here than kissing, Ashley,” he rasp
ed, his breathing constricted. He hurt so bad he ached with it. He moved against her, his hardness pressing against her womanhood, only his jeans and a sliver of silk separating them. “I want you badly and that’s where this is leading.”

  “I know.”

  Ryder took a deep breath and strained to stay in control, every muscle in his body taut. “I don’t think you do. If we don’t stop now, I can’t promise I’ll be able to.”

  “I don’t want you to,” she whispered, her breath warm and moist, her answer full of promise. She looked steadily into his eyes.

  Ryder lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her upper lip, then slid his tongue slightly past her teeth, touching her tongue, teasing it, then sucking it into his own mouth. She arched against him as she kissed him back, her hands holding his face. Her mouth was unbelievably perfect, hot and satiny as his tongue stroked hers and urged her to give him deeper access.

  He shifted his weight slightly off her and slid one tiny strap of her gown off her shoulder. His mouth left hers, then he slowly, methodically, bathed her neck and creamy shoulder with openmouthed kisses, his tongue tasting her salty skin. Everything about her assailed him at once—her enticing scent, her delicious taste, her total innocence. He felt her clutching at him, her hands and fingers flexing on his upper arms.

  He slipped his hand beneath her nightie, tracing her rib cage until he encountered one soft, plump breast. The sound of her moan when he found her pebble-hard bud rippled through him.

  He twirled it between his thumb and finger as he trailed hot, wet kisses down her neck. Ashley bucked beneath him, her hands sliding over his shoulders. Her fingertips squeezed his skin as she kissed the hot flesh of his neck.

  Ryder slowly slid her gown up and exposed two round ivory globes. “I want to look at you,” he said, then caught her wrists and raised her arms above her head. He touched his tongue to one tight rosy tip as he let her arms go and gathered one breast in his hand.

  “Ryder,” Ashley whispered, her voice breaking off when his rough tongue grazed her nipple. He laved it lavishly, then gently bit and tugged at it with his teeth.