Her Texan Temptation Read online

  At six foot, he was only about four inches taller than her, but the determination on his face and his effect on her senses made his presence seem overwhelming. Mary Beth braced herself as best she could and took a cautious step away, then clamped her lips together to bear a sharp, stabbing sensation in her leg. “I have things to do. I can’t sit around and nurse a little bruise.” Even as she said the words, her face contorted.

  He gave her a dark glare. “Let Clyde do them when he gets back.” Deke reached down and retrieved her sock and boot, but instead of handing them back to her, he held on to them.

  Mary Beth’s heartbeat quickened. She didn’t want to admit that Clyde had left for good. Why couldn’t Deke have gone when she’d first asked him? Until now, she’d been able to handle things at the ranch—barely. Now he’d walked in to mess with her heart. Well, she wasn’t going to take it. As far as she was concerned, he could just mount up and ride off.

  Except, as much as she wanted to tell him to get lost, she really had little choice but to admit that Clyde had quit. The whole town of Crockett would soon find out that the no-account jerk had left. When Deke heard about it, he’d come back madder than a raging bull because she hadn’t told him.

  Taking a deep breath, she admitted, “I can’t.”

  “Why not?” Deke glanced up the road as if he would see a cloud of dust from Clyde’s car, then he looked back at her. “How long will he be gone?”

  “Forever,” she grated. “He quit.”

  “Just now?”

  She gave a slight nod. “He took a job near Dallas.”

  “Ah, so that’s why you were throwing a tantrum,” Deke concluded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

  “Oh, give me my boot,” she practically snarled, trying to snatch it from him. His easy grin made her heart trip over itself. She’d known Deke for many years, had seen his effect on females of all ages. He had the power to charm a raw steak from a starving dog. She stiffened her spine, refusing to be such an easy target again.

  Deke held her boot captive, just out of her reach. “Knock it off, Red.”

  Mary Beth’s eyes blazed. “Stop calling me that!”

  “What? Red?” he asked, his tone mystified. “Hell, sweetheart, you’ve been known by that nickname for as long as I can remember.”

  “I don’t like it. I never have. I go by Mary Beth!” she snapped. Maybe she sounded petulant, but at this moment she damn well didn’t care. She’d been teased about her hair since she’d entered elementary school because it had been the color of a raging fire. Some of the kids had taunted her mercilessly when she’d revealed her dislike of that awful nickname. When she’d moved to San Antonio, she’d used Mary Beth as her name. She sure didn’t want Deke calling her Red, especially since her hair had turned to a rich shade of cinnamon.

  “Well, I’ll sure try to remember that, Mary Beth,” Deke replied, emphasizing her name. He frowned. It seemed that he couldn’t say anything right. He hadn’t seen much of her in the past two years, and the times he had, she’d avoided him. Damn, she hadn’t even spoken to him.

  But in all fairness to her, he couldn’t have stayed with her and been the man she needed. Like her he’d lost his father. Though it had been years ago, Deke still carried the weight of the last words he’d spoken to him.

  “I hate you.”

  Poorly chosen words by a boy, haunting words for the man he’d become. Words he could never take back. He’d learned his lesson the hard way, learned not to say something he didn’t mean.

  And that’s why he hadn’t called Mary Beth after they’d made love. He hadn’t wanted to give her false hope, dreams he couldn’t fulfill. And in his effort to be altruistic, he’d hurt her.

  Shaking off the bad memories, Deke turned his attention back to her ankle, now swollen even more and turning pink. “Look, you’ve got to treat that right now, or you’re not going to be walking on it for at least a week.”

  “Well, thank you, Dr. McCall, for your advice.”

  Her icy reply made Deke flinch. He stared at her, half expecting to see frostbite forming on her lips. Instead they were as full and tempting as the last time he’d kissed them. He could still remember her taste. “I’m serious,” he grated, trying to direct his mind back to her injury and away from his smoldering lust.

  “I don’t have time to argue with you. I’ve got cattle to round up,” she reminded him. Mary Beth tried to nab her boot from him, but he quickly held it out of her reach.

  A muscle worked along his jaw. “They’re not going far.”

  “That isn’t the point. They’re certainly not going to come home if I whistle for them, now are they?”

  “You’ve got a smart mouth,” Deke growled, and his gaze slid to her lips. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking of how it would feel to kiss them again.

  Whoa, don’t go there. That kind of thinking is what got you into bed with Mary Beth the last time.

  She tried to grab her boot again. “Give it here!”

  “If you keep that up, I’m gonna think you don’t want me here.”

  “Now that you mention it—”

  “Careful, sweetheart, or you’re going to hurt my feelings,” he drawled.

  “As if I could,” Mary Beth muttered. She glowered at him. “Are you through now? I’ve got work to do.”

  “It can wait. Come on, I’ll get you into the house, and we’ll put some ice on your ankle.”

  “Deke—”

  “Dammit, Mary Beth—” Deke stopped talking and swept her up in his arms, dropping her boot and sock in the process. He hadn’t remembered her being so stubborn!

  “Deke McCall, put me down this minute!” Her demand was met with a silencing stare. She kicked her legs and pushed at his chest with her hand. “I can walk!”

  He shook his head. “Not without causing more damage to your ankle. And stop fighting me, or I’m gonna drop you.” To add credibility to his warning, he allowed her to slip a little in his arms. She squealed, then her arms flew around his neck and she held on tight. Deke felt the brush of one breast against his chest, and a burning sensation ignited in his gut.

  Damn! Just how long could it take him to walk to her house?

  He covered the distance to her door in deliberate, long strides, then took the three steps to the small porch as one, tightening his arms around her to keep from dropping her as he opened the door. Despite the air-conditioning cooling his skin as he walked inside, his body felt as if it was in flames. Grimacing, he shoved the door closed with his shoulder.

  Memories assailed him as his eyes adjusted to the dim light inside the house. He looked at Mary Beth, and he knew she was thinking the same thing.

  The last time he’d been here, they’d made love.

  Hell.

  He was in trouble.

  Two

  As Deke strode through the foyer, he tried to force thoughts of Mary Beth naked and writhing beneath him from his mind.

  It didn’t work.

  Sweat beaded his brow. Knowing he wasn’t the right man for her, that he could never be the man she needed, should have been enough to make him keep his hands off her.

  But he hadn’t. He’d made love to her, and like the bastard he was, he’d walked away.

  Hell. All he was good at was hurting people. Mary Beth didn’t need anyone to hurt her. She needed someone she could count on, not a footloose cowboy whose only goal in life was to win the National Finals Rodeo bull-riding championship.

  He could have gone to see her later, or at least called her. He could have apologized. But he hadn’t. Figuring Mary Beth was the kind of woman who was looking for marriage and happily-ever-after, he’d decided the best thing to do was to make a clean break.

  If you’d gone to see her, you might not have been able to walk away. And that’s what had scared him the most. He couldn’t have stayed and given her what she needed. He’d had his own agenda. He had to win the championship.

  For his father.

  Jacob McC
all had gone to his grave thinking that his son hated him, and Deke had lived every single day knowing how much he’d let his father down, knowing it was too late to tell his father how very sorry he was. It gnawed at his gut, tearing him up inside. He’d learned his lesson the hard way, and he would never make that mistake again.

  Deke had only himself to blame. At fifteen, he’d had it all figured out. He’d had plans with Becky Parsons to go to the lake, where they were going to finally get past the heavy petting they’d been enjoying and get down to some hot-and-heavy sex. Deke was anxious to lose his virginity, and Becky had been more than willing to let him take hers.

  But earlier that day his father had grounded him because he’d been ignoring his chores, and his grades had begun to slip. Usually, Deke had been able to cajole his father into giving him another chance, but this time his dad hadn’t budged. Deke had been furious. All he could think about was meeting Becky. So he’d sneaked out. When Jacob McCall had discovered his son missing, he’d come after him and hauled him home. Angry and embarrassed, Deke had said some terrible things to his father.

  “I hate you.”

  The next day, Deke had held on to his anger when his parents were leaving on a trip. He’d hugged his mother goodbye, but had refused to speak to his father. His parents had been killed later that day when the plane his father was piloting developed engine trouble and crashed. Deke had never had the opportunity to make amends. He’d never had the chance to take those hateful words back—to tell his father that he didn’t mean them, that he loved him.

  After the funeral, standing over his father’s grave, he’d promised to make it up to him. Together they’d shared an interest in the rodeo, and his father had indulged Deke’s desire to participate. Now all Deke wanted was to win the championship bull-riding event for his father.

  Currently, he was the front-runner, and he wasn’t going to let anything or anyone, including Mary Beth, get in the way of that goal. He’d made a lot of mistakes in his life, but this time he was going to do the right thing.

  “Okay, we’re inside now so put me down!” Mary Beth demanded, interrupting his thoughts.

  “In a minute.” Deke continued down the hallway until he came to the kitchen. He used his boot to drag a wooden chair from under the table, then with great care he deposited Mary Beth on it. Her hands slid down his chest as she eased her arms from around his neck.

  Damn! It was a mistake to be here with her. He straightened and looked down at her, his heart beating hard and fast. Mary Beth started to get up, but he put his hand firmly on her shoulder, effectively keeping her in place.

  “Sit still,” he ordered gruffly. Without speaking, she brooded, her arms crossed in front of her voluptuous chest, her bottom lip stuck out in a pout.

  Irritated by the entire situation, he grabbed hold of another kitchen chair. As he pulled it away from the table, a large stack of magazines slid off it and fell to the floor. “Sorry,” he muttered, then bent down and began gathering them.

  “It’s okay,” she replied, watching him, and her cheeks reddened slightly.

  Deke continued stacking them together, noticing that they were dated and worn. The one that ended up on the top of the pile had a picturesque location easily identified as Paris, France, by the Eiffel Tower. He picked up the magazines and straightened them, then put the pile on the table.

  Grabbing the chair again, he positioned it in front of her, then carefully elevated her leg.

  “I have to see to the cattle,” she stated when she could no longer hold her silence.

  “I’ll make sure they’re taken care of,” Deke assured her. “But first, we need to do something to get that swelling down. Stay put.” His threatening look dared her to disobey.

  “This is ridiculous.” Mary Beth examined her ankle. “It’s not that bad.” Still, she didn’t get up. “Besides, I don’t have to be on my ankle to round up cattle.”

  “What if you have to get off your horse?”

  “It won’t hurt me to walk on it for a little while.”

  “Yes, it will. I don’t think your ankle’s broken, but it might be a good idea to get it x-rayed.”

  Mary Beth mentally reviewed her dwindling bank account. A visit to the doctor would cost precious money she didn’t have to spare. “I don’t need it x-rayed. It’s just a sprain.”

  “Well, I’ve had a lot of sprains, and I’ve learned enough about treating them to know that the first twenty-four hours are the most important. If you don’t get the swelling down, it’ll take even longer for it to heal.”

  She huffed. Deke ignored her and started opening and closing the drawers in the kitchen cabinets. Mary Beth looked around the dismal room and cringed. A path was worn across the faded cream-colored vinyl floor, and at best the gas stove could be called a relic. The yellow-flowered curtains sewn by her mother years ago were shabby, bleached by constant morning sun. Mary Beth could still remember the day she’d helped her mother hang them. Sadly, it was the last thing Della Adams had ever done before she’d taken ill.

  Having just graduated high school, Mary Beth had set her sights on leaving Crockett. It was a blow to her plans when her mother had become sick. Mary Beth stayed home to care for her, and it had been months before the doctors had discovered her cancer. Della had fought the terrible disease for six years. They’d driven countless times to San Antonio, then later to San Luis once the new hospital had opened.

  But the cancer had continued to spread, leaving her mother with little energy to fight it. And when she’d lost her mother, Mary Beth had lost her best friend.

  What must Deke be thinking? she wondered. Her cheeks colored slightly as she sat in the dumpy room watching him. His family’s ranch, the Bar M, was large and prosperous, a far cry from the failing acres of Paradise.

  Because her days were now spent trying to care for the livestock and the land, Mary Beth hadn’t had the time, or the money for that matter, to fix up the inside of the house. She done her best to tidy the small place when she’d first returned home, but sparing the time had been difficult. Nowadays, she rarely had energy at the end of the day to do more than pick up behind herself.

  Hearing that her father had been hurt after being thrown from his horse, Mary Beth had made arrangements to take a leave from her job and come home and help him. Upon arriving, she’d learned that he’d broken several ribs and his leg. One of his ribs had punctured a lung, and because his health was poor, he’d developed pneumonia. Unable to fight it off, Hank Adams had died shortly after she’d arrived.

  The slamming of yet another drawer drew her attention. Mary Beth found herself watching Deke’s rear end as he moved around the room. His worn jeans encased his butt in a tight, all-too-appealing fit. She gritted her teeth, hating that he still had an effect on her.

  “What are you looking for?” she demanded when he continued to peruse her cabinet drawers. His quick movements were maddening when she just wanted him gone.

  “A cloth or something to put some ice in.”

  “They’re over there.” She pointed to a drawer across the room.

  Deke looked in the direction she indicated, then walked over and yanked open the drawer. “This’ll do.” He pulled out a frayed white dishcloth with multicolored stripes, crossed the room to the old refrigerator and opened the freezer door. Reaching inside, he took some ice, gathered it in the cloth, then spread it on the counter and methodically adjusted the cubes, folding them inside.

  “Here you go,” he said as he approached her.

  She waited for him to put the ice on her ankle, then caught her breath when the cold compress touched her skin. The weight of it made her ankle ache even more.

  “How does that feel?”

  She glared at him. “Cold.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, well, that’s how it’s supposed to feel.” Deke let go and stepped back, pleased with his work.

  The ice pack fell to the side.

  Frowning, he picked it up and put it back on. Before he could
move away, it fell off again. “Damn,” he muttered.

  “I can hold it,” she told him, and reached for the compress.

  “Yeah? How? You can’t lean over and hold it on there for very long. Your back’ll be sore after a while.” Before she could protest, he gave her the ice pack, then lifted her and carried her toward the living room.

  “Will you put me down?” Mary Beth rasped, her tone revealing her frustration.

  “In a minute.” He settled her on the sofa, then grabbed a small throw pillow and stuffed it under her foot. “I’ll get you a more comfortable one from your bedroom in a minute,” he told her. Taking the ice pack from her, he put it back on the sprain. This time, propped against the sofa, it stayed in place.

  “This is fine.” Mary Beth didn’t want to think about Deke going anywhere near her bedroom. The last time he’d been in her house, he’d not only been in her bedroom, but in her bed.

  And they’d made love.

  Had sex, she corrected herself. For Deke it surely hadn’t been anything more, as he’d proven when he’d walked out the next morning and never bothered to call her. He’d probably felt sorry for her because her father had just died. Undoubtedly, he’d been just as surprised as she was when he’d kissed her. When she’d returned his kisses, well, she supposed he was used to women offering him sex.

  It hadn’t been that way for her. The crush on him she’d nurtured as a teenager had resurfaced when Deke had taken her in his arms, when he’d kissed her. She’d always wondered what it would be like to be intimate with him.

  And the instant his lips had touched hers, she’d known that she couldn’t deny herself the pleasure of finding out. She’d waited a long time for Deke McCall to notice her. And making love with him had been…incredible. Everything she’d dreamed it would be.

  His voice interrupted her thoughts, and she gave him a blank look. “What?”

  “I said, now that you’ve got ice on it, how about something for the pain?” he repeated, his tone a shade more tolerant than a minute ago.