Martha Shields - The Princess And The Cowboy

“A hot dog and beer sound wonderful.”

Suddenly he dipped his head and pressed his lips against hers.

Shocked, Josie stiffened, her gasp cut off by virtue of no air. Only a second passed, however, before the lack of oxygen didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that the contact go on forever.

She whimpered and pressed closer.

After a long, delightful moment, he drew away. “Damn.”

She opened her eyes. His were so close she could barely focus on them. “You kissed me.”

“Yep. I’m about to do it again.”

“You are? Why?”

He chuckled. “For luck…among other things.”

“Luck?”

“To help me catch my steer. The way I feel right now, though, I can’t imagine not setting a record, just so I can get back to you.”

The heart that had begun to slow began racing again. “All right. You may kiss me again.”

The blue of his eyes darkened a shade, but he closed them a second before his mouth covered hers. His lips were warm and pliant, soft and—

Suddenly the point of physical contact lost focus as heat forged a bond that melded them together. Warmth flowed from him into her, then surged back again. The effervescence of it made Josie dizzy. To keep from falling, she grabbed his thick, hard biceps as his arms encircled her waist.

“There she is! About time. Tear yourself away from lover boy, Candy, or we’ll start without you.”

The rodeo director’s words penetrated the sensual fog clouding Buck’s mind, and he reluctantly drew away from the lips that had instantly sent him into a tailspin. He didn’t want to stop kissing the trailer-park queen he’d just found. Not now. Not ever.

Slowly, she opened her fathomless amber eyes. He was gratified to note the trouble she had focusing, though the evidence of her desire made it hard not to bend and taste her again.

“Josie?”

“Hmmmm?” she asked dreamily.

This could be the stupidest thing he’d ever done, but he had a strong feeling it was fate slapping him up the side of the head. Why else would she appear so quickly, right after he’d made his plan?

“To hell with the hot dog. Will you marry me?”

Josie’s eyes widened and she pulled away, but only slightly. Then she gave him a nervous smile. “Yes.”

“Candy, will you come on?”

She glanced at the rodeo director, who stood in a wide two-point stance several feet away.

“Hey, you’re not Candy.”

Buck ignored the man as he studied Josie’s lovely face. Her black eyebrows and dark complexion told him she wasn’t a real blonde, but that didn’t bother him. Few trailer-park queens were. What made him hesitate was that she’d agreed to marry him so quickly, without asking a single question about his health or background.

Was it possible she knew he was Hardin Winford Buchanan II, son of the third richest man in Sacramento and multimillionaire in his own right?

He shook off the notion. He’d done his damnedest to keep his background secret from the rodeo world. More likely she figured he asked every girl he met to kiss him and marry him for luck. Cowboys did have a reputation for being superstitious.

“You don’t think I’m serious,” he said.

“Are you?” she returned.

“What the hell’s going on here, Buck?” the rodeo director demanded. “What’s happened to Candy?”

“One second, Hal.” Buck’s gaze never left Josie’s intense amber eyes. “I have a few conditions.”

She smiled wryly. “So do I.”

“We’ll talk about it on the way to Reno. It’s just a couple of hours away, and we can get married tonight, if we haven’t changed our minds by the time we get there.”

She nodded. “All right. I’d like to leave as soon as possible.”

Buck nodded, then turned to face the rodeo director, who watched them with a disgusted expression. “Sorry, Hal. This here’s Josie. She’s Candy’s substitute.”

“What? Where’s Candy?” The tall, gaunt man held his palms toward them. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. As long as I got someone to carry the Dodge flag, I don’t care. Mount up, Josie. It’s show time.”

Buck glanced down at Josie, who stood in the circle of his arm. “You ready?”

She took a deep breath. “I guess so.”

She guided the reins over the mare’s neck as she moved down its side to mount.

Unable to resist the opportunity, Buck set his hands on her hips and lifted her onto the saddle. She was tall and though slender, she was no featherweight. Not that lifting her was any effort for him. Like most steer wrestlers, he was a big man, and he liked the solid feel of her.

With one hand on her knee, he grabbed her hands with his other as she gathered the reins. “Meet me here after I ride, okay?”

She sat ramrod straight in the saddle and looked down at him like a princess from her throne. Her golden-brown eyes searched his face as if he were an animal she’d never seen before. “Will you kiss me again…for luck?”

The contrast of her haughty posture and provocative words made desire stab deep into his gut. “Better not, sweetheart. I might not be able to stop. But I’ll definitely take you up on that offer later. Hell, if we’re getting married, we’re going to be doing a lot more than kissing.”

Crimson brushed across her cheeks, but the smile she gave him was as brilliant as the arena lights. “I’ll meet you here.”

He released her, and with a gentle kick, she sent the mare toward the gate where Hal was waving her on frantically.

Buck pushed back his hat and watched her pause to lift the Dodge Truck flag, then maneuver into place beside another princess, who watched her curiously.

Will you kiss me again?

Was it possible he’d finally found a woman who didn’t feel the need to play games? One who was unafraid to match his libido kiss for kiss, caress for caress, thrust for thrust?

And to top it off, she was beautiful, sexy and a trashy trailer-park queen to boot.

Okay, not a queen, just a princess, but that would do.

He hoped like hell his instincts were right. If they were, he couldn’t wait to take her home tomorrow night to meet the folks.

With a smug smile, Buck turned back toward his horse.

His mother was going to have a heifer.

“Four-point-six seconds!” the announcer bellowed over the loudspeaker. The sound carried easily to where Josie hid among the trucks and trailers. “The best bulldogging time of the evening, folks. Buck Buchanan rode like a man possessed! Let’s give him a great big hand. He’s in the money tonight.”

Dieu merci, he was fin—

No. Thank God he was finished. If her charade was going to be successful, she had to weed the French words from her vocabulary. Thank God her English was unaccented and full of American slang and idioms, courtesy of all the years she’d known Melissa.

Josie peered around the cab of a truck, but couldn’t see Buck approaching. She hoped he hadn’t changed his mind.

She needed to get away, fast.

After sending the mare she’d borrowed back over the fence toward the Porter stables, she’d spotted a young woman carrying the Versace gown. Despite a red flush on her cheeks and neck, the woman didn’t look sick at all. In fact, she was obviously angry and looking for her stolen clothes.

Then a local sheriff’s car pulled up at the edge of the parking lot. When two deputies began showing the people milling around a picture, Josie had to assume they were looking for her.

So far she’d avoided being found by either Candy or the cops. But what would she do if Buck Buchanan didn’t show up? What if he’d changed his—

Her attention was snagged by the swaggering gait of a tall, muscular man leading a horse from the arena. Though he was silhouetted by the bright lights, she knew it was Buck.