The Rancher's Surrender Read online

  He was aroused again.

  Caught staring, she brought her gaze up to his wryly amused one. She thought of the other condom.

  Behind his amusement was a wealth of hurt, hurt that she'd put there. She turned away to slip on her shoes. "I'm sorry."

  "Regrets already." His voice was carefully blank, nothing like the husky one that only moments before had been whispering sexy promises in her ear.

  The only regret she had at the moment was ruining this magical time with him, but she had no idea how to get that languid, deliciously relaxed feeling back. No idea what to do or say.

  So she stood there, facing the back door with her arms wrapped around herself in growing misery.

  "Safe to look," he said, and when she turned, she saw that he'd pulled on his jeans, leaving off his whipped-cream-covered T-shirt. He was holding his keys.

  "I'll walk," she said quickly.

  "No you won't." He opened the door for her. The Idaho night was dark and unforgiving. Unrelenting. And for the first time since she'd arrived in this state, she resented it.

  * * *

  Ty needed to use his frustration and anger to his advantage, needed to turn it into energy. Energy worked for him, it allowed him to do instead of think, because if he started thinking he might go mad.

  He had promised himself he'd be patient with Zoe, that he'd show her in actions how he felt, which were far better than promises she wouldn't believe, anyway.

  But even those actions hadn't been enough.

  He'd rushed her.

  And even knowing that, he couldn't pull back. The more he was with her, the more he wanted, and the wanting was a burning, undeniable need.

  But he was the only one wanting and needing, and that hurt.

  It had to stop. He had a job to do, and for now it would be enough. It had to be.

  Strangely enough, in the midst of all this turmoil over Zoe, he felt more in peace thinking about Ben than he ever had, and he knew that was because he'd talked about Ben and felt better. The dream that had haunted him would serve another purpose, one they hadn't intended, but a good one nevertheless. Ben would have loved the idea of the guest ranch.

  The morning after the whipped cream fight he would never forget—and he doubted he'd ever look at whipped cream the same way again—Ty rose before dawn, completed some chores, got his ranch hands and trainers set up for a day's work. Then he headed over to Triple M.

  He had a guest ranch to prepare.

  He told himself it didn't matter what Zoe said or did this morning, he would act normal. If she wanted to pretend that the wildest, hottest, most soul-shattering lovemaking hadn't happened only hours before, fine.

  He could pretend with the best of them.

  He hoped she was as miserable as he. That she hadn't slept any more than he had, which was all of about three minutes.

  When he discovered Zoe was still in bed, his disposition didn't improve.

  "What do you mean she's not up yet?" he asked Maddie, who handed him a mug of steaming coffee.

  "She's … ah … pretty miserable." Maddie glanced upward and lifted a shoulder. "I think she's hungover, to tell you the truth. She's not used to drinking."

  "Hmm." He set down his coffee and headed for the hallway door.

  "Ty, where are you going?" Maddie called out, alarmed. "She's in a bear of a mood. Ty! Come back here, you'll get your head bitten off."

  "Don't worry, Maddie," he called back over his shoulder. "She's crazy about me."

  He found her in bed. She was a burrower, he thought. Not even an inch of her showed from beneath her covers. Just her thick auburn hair. The hair he'd thought to see spread across his pillow this morning.

  God, just looking at her made his heart ache, and that really ticked him off. She should be in his bed, under his covers, burrowed up against him.

  Shutting and locking her bedroom door behind him, he moved to the bed, intending to rudely rip the covers off and demand she get up and work.

  So they could both suffer.

  Instead, he found himself sinking to the mattress and dipping a hand beneath the covers, just to touch her. To feel her warm, soft, giving body, just once more.

  He found her body, all right, and smooth, bare skin.

  Beneath the quilt she was completely nude.

  Groaning, he leaned over her, his mouth hovering close to her ear. "Get up, Zoe. There's work to do." In contrast to his rough words, his hand smoothed down over her shoulder, down her side to her hip, squeezing gently.

  Zoe made a soft noise and turned onto her back. Which put his hand low on her belly. He glanced at her face, but she was still sleeping deeply, with her body warm and silky beneath his fingers. God. He inched down until his palm was filled with her and found her damp. He groaned again, sucking gently on her ear.

  "Ty…" she mumbled. "Don't go."

  "I won't," he said, thinking she'd woken.

  But she hadn't, she was still out. "Don't desert me, too," she murmured.

  In that moment, his heart shattered. So much for his resolve to stay away from her. "I won't, Zoe … I promise."

  A promise. Oh Lord, he was in deep now.

  Another sigh escaped her, a deeper one, and her legs opened as she pressed herself into his hand.

  It was too much. He was just a man. A very weak, red-blooded man who was about ready to explode from just touching her. "Zoe," he whispered, half hoping she'd wake up and shove him away.

  Instead she arched up, and he was a goner. Sliding one finger into her, he leaned closer and kissed her mouth, his tongue plunging in tune to his moving hand.

  Making soft mewling noises that nearly undid him, Zoe gripped him tight, writhing against him, rocking her hips, gasping, melting … then shuddering, shuddering, shuddering.

  Hot and dying, Ty kept on touching her until she quieted, thinking he hadn't felt so out of control without being touched himself since he'd been a teenager.

  Her eyes flew open and she stared at him, her breathing harsh and uneven.

  It took a moment for those eyes to clear completely, but when they did, she shot straight up, clutching the blanket to herself. Mute, she stared at him, blinking uncertainly.

  He wondered if she was hoping she'd dreamed the entire thing and he was just hot enough, just miserable enough to not be kind. "I don't suppose you'd think it was my turn now."

  Her eyes closed. Her face went beet-red. And he felt marginally better, but his jeans were still far too tight.

  Zoe's hands went up to her head. "I think my head is going to fall off."

  Not exactly the romantic words he'd hoped for. But since her face had gone from red to green, he believed her.

  She dropped her hands and looked at him. "I … I thought maybe I was dreaming…?"

  Slowly he shook his head. "Not that last part, no."

  She nodded, and her eyes fell to his lap and his very obvious arousal, then widened. Visibly, she swallowed. "Ty—"

  "Get up, Zoe." His words were harsher than he'd intended as he rose, but dammit, he was frustrated beyond hell.

  He tossed her a pair of jeans he found on the floor. "I'll be outside waiting. Hurry."

  "I'll get there when I get there."

  Seemed Sleeping Beauty had fully awoken and had sharpened her tongue. "Get there fast," he said calmly, meeting her gaze steadily. "Or I'll come back for you."

  He shut her door behind him, grinning when he heard something hit the other side of the door, right about head-level.

  It hit with the solid thunk of a brand-new boot.

  * * *

  Zoe showed up relatively quickly, which surprised Ty. He thought she might have stayed back dwelling on things, stalling, doing whatever it was a woman did while she pouted.

  But she came outside in less than half an hour, not a sulk in sight. The sun lit her hair like fire as she walked toward him, looking more beautiful than any heartbreaker had a right to look. Her slim body was encased in jeans and yet another T-shirt, void of w
hipped cream. She was wearing her new boots and her gloves. She looked comfortable, confident and well suited for the beautiful but harsh environment of ranching.

  Pride flowed through him at her versatility. At her resilience.

  She came close, and he saw that her eyes were red.

  Dammit. "You've been crying," he accused, tossing down his gloves and moving toward her with guilt and need and a million other things. "Not about what happened in your bed—"

  "Don't be ridiculous."

  "Zoe—"

  She lifted her chin but didn't quite meet his gaze. "Back off, Ty. This is work. Where do we start?" She saw the cans of paint. "At the cottages?"

  He lifted her chin in his cupped hand. "Tell me why you were crying."

  Not surprisingly, she slapped his hand away. "It's nothing." When she whirled away from him, he saw the folded piece of paper sticking out her back pocket, and not knowing why, he grabbed it.

  She went wild, leaping at him, tackling him down to the hard ground—which happened to be wet, dammit—clawing and reaching to get the paper he perversely held just out of reach.

  "Gee, I guess it has something to do with this," he drawled from flat on his back. She was straddling him, leaning over his body so that her breasts just grazed his chest. Rather than groan and crush her to him, which he nearly did on instinct, he grinned up into her face. "You sure like to be on top."

  "Give it back."

  At her pale, drawn, panicked expression he lost all ability to tease her. Holding her firmly to him, he sat up and handed back the folded paper.

  Startled at his compliance, she took it. Her legs were around his hips, her bottom snugged to his crotch. An erotically shattering position, and yet it was suddenly so much more than that. Gently he put his hands to her hips, lightly squeezing. "What is it, Slim? Can't you tell me?"

  Her eyes filled but the tears didn't spill. She hesitated, then shoved the letter at him. Staring at her, he slowly took it, opened it, then scanned the letter.

  It was a short note from Cade, and it had been faxed to the new machine they'd bought to make guest reservations easier.

  Dear Zoe,

  So sorry, I know all this waiting and wondering is difficult for you. I have some news, small as it is. Your mother was indeed allowed to come and get you for visitation as you thought. Why she never did is a mystery to all involved. She never called, as you'd suspected. And she never wrote. In fact, from the day you were dropped off, she never checked in. Not once.

  I'll keep searching for her, Zoe, and I know I'll find something soon.

  Your friend, Cade.

  Ty read the words, his throat tightening on each word. Here it was in black and white for Zoe to see and deal with for the first time.

  She'd indeed been orphaned, purposely and cruelly. And apparently, without the least bit of regret.

  "Zoe, I'm sorry—"

  She jerked off of him and to her feet. Crossing her arms over herself, she shrugged, refusing to look at him. "Don't be."

  "But I am—"

  "It doesn't matter."

  "Yes, of course it does—"

  "I already knew all that stuff, anyway. She dumped me. No big deal."

  If he touched her, she was going to break. Normally he'd be running—hell, he'd be flying—as far from a crying female as he could get. His mother had used tears a lot; he'd long ago become immune to such things.

  Yet Zoe's tears were different—she didn't do it to manipulate or twist or hurt. She hated crying, he knew she did. Watching her struggle now, trying to hide them from him as she swiped at her eyes, did something to him, made him want to slay beasts and hold back entire armies. But the only dragon was Zoe's mental block wall and he had no means to tear it down.

  He reached out, needing to fix this for her somehow. "Zoe, sweetheart—"

  "No." She held up a hand, backed another step and shook her head violently. "No. I'm fine. I … am just fine. I don't want to talk about it."

  "Is there anything we can talk about?"

  "Look, it's over, okay? My mother dumped me, and I know that. It was dumb to want to find her. Now, can we work?"

  And for the rest of the day, she refused to speak about it. About anything that made her feel.

  * * *

  Chapter 16

  « ^ »

  "Hurry up, would you?" Ty knew he was being a jerk but he couldn't help himself. He had docked his jet boat in Lewiston and was waiting for Zoe.

  Normally driving the high-powered aluminum-hulled craft gave him great pleasure. It was practical as well as fun, for in this rough territory he could ascend and maneuver the river safer and faster than the roads, and in a fraction of the time.

  But today was different. He and Zoe were standing in town, just the two of them, ostensibly ordering tack and supplies for their prospective guests.

  Ty could have done it alone. It certainly would have been easier, for Zoe hadn't wanted to come. But he'd insisted, saying that she hadn't been pulling her weight

  A lie.

  One that even Delia had pointed out to him, reminding him that Zoe did indeed work desperately hard. But not even for Delia and Maddie could he relax about their troubled sister. God only knew how she continued to ignore what was between them, but she did. She had for an entire week now, and he was so full of explosive energy and longing he was going to burst.

  It wasn't just that he wanted her in his bed, though he did desperately need to hold her. But he was so certain she was going to be able to walk away from what was between them.

  Zoe walked next to him on the sidewalk, doing her best to ignore him. She was giving him the silent treatment now, which quite honestly, he probably deserved.

  "If I said I'm sorry, will you speak to me?" he asked. He sighed when she didn't answer, and as annoying as that was, he could still remember how shattered and abandoned she'd looked when she'd read Cade's last note. Picturing it now, he thought maybe he could find the words to apologize after all. "Zoe—"

  She came to such an abrupt stop, he nearly plowed her over. "What the—"

  She pressed her nose to the display in the window.

  Ty glanced up at the jewelry store. A jewelry store? Zoe never even wore earrings.

  "Oh, it's beautiful," she breathed, her eyes glued to a small delicate gold bracelet. Then, catching him gaping at her moment of whimsy, she straightened and walked past him.

  Ty stared at the bracelet in surprise. She'd never even hinted at a yearning for anything material before. Her longing to belong to the ranch was an entirely different thing. He watched her move on, chin tilted at a defiant angle.

  If he thought she would accept it, he'd have bought the pretty chain for her in an instant, but all she wanted from him was his distance.

  Sighing with frustration, he followed her. "Soon enough you'll be able to buy yourself whatever you want," he said quietly as he walked next to her.

  She let out a little smile and shook her head. "I hope the guest ranch is that successful, but I don't need anything."

  "We all need something once in a while, Zoe."

  "Really?" She met his gaze. "What do you need, Ty?"

  "You," he said simply, stopping, putting a hand on her arm to stop her, too. "I need you."

  There on the sidewalk, with the hot Idaho sun bearing down on them, Zoe closed her eyes.

  He stepped closer, leaned in enough so that he could smell her soap, her shampoo, both far sexier than any perfume. "I need you so much I ache with it," he told her.

  Her eyes flew open, and her gaze slowly ran over him, down to where his need was usually quite apparent.

  He let out a laugh that held little mirth. "I'm not talking about that kind of need, Zoe. The need I'm talking about is greater than anything physical."

  "Oh."

  "You don't believe that."

  "I don't know what I believe anymore." She started walking again.

  They spent the rest of the day in tense, terse silence.

&nb
sp; * * *

  Zoe's office window drew her for the tenth time, where she peeked into the yard. Unable to get a really good view, she stretched farther, nearly falling out in the process, but then she could see and what she saw made her blood pump. "Oh Lord," she whispered.

  "What's out there?"

  Zoe jerked back as Delia and Maddie entered the room. They looked surprised to see her leaning out the window, twisted to see something just out of their vision, and she straightened quickly.

  "Nothing," she said as casually as she could. "It's nothing." She shut the curtains nonchalantly.

  "Hmm." With a lift of her smooth brow, Delia walked over and lifted a corner of the curtain, then tucked her tongue into her cheek. "Well if 'nothing' is the most gorgeous man I've ever seen, stripped to his tanned, toned waist, working in the sun, then you're right. There's nothing out there, and his name is Ty."

  Maddie leaped for a view, and the two of them stood in awe for a moment, watching the man as he reinforced the wood railing on the arena. "Wow."

  Muscles gleamed with a faint sheen of sweat as he pounded nails. "Double wow," Delia agreed.

  "Ohh, for God's sake, you're drooling," Zoe snapped, making them both laugh at her.

  "You never did explain that kiss we didn't know about," Delia said lightly.

  "Kisses," Maddie corrected her helpfully. "Remember at the bonfire? Ty specifically said 'kisses.' And they knocked his socks off. What kind of kiss knocks that kind of man's socks off, I wonder?"

  "A damn hot one," Delia guessed, grinning as Zoe rolled her eyes.

  "Do you really have nothing to do that you can come in here and drive me insane?" she wondered.

  Delia smiled innocently. "What happened, hon? You were working outside, helping Ty. Did it get too … uh, hot for you out there?"

  It was true, Zoe had been helping outside, in between covert glances at Ty's unbelievably sexy body, until he'd caught her.

  He'd come straight to her, dropping his hat and hammer. His gloves went next. "You keep looking at me like that," he'd vowed in a low whisper for her ears only, "and I'm going to take you into your office and remind you whose turn it is to be satisfied."