A Husband Made In Texas. Rosemary Carter
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to curl around her head was drawn back in a long pony-tail, with just those few tendrils escaping onto her forehead. The clothes she wore were basic, with no concession to fashion: plaid shirt, a pair of faded jeans, and on her head a Stetson to protect her from the fierce Texas sun.
On another woman, the complete lack of artifice might have made for dowdiness. But Kaitlin had never needed fashion or cosmetics in order to be attractive. She was still, Flynn thought, the loveliest girl he had ever seen. She was also enormously sexy.
‘Do you know how long it’s been?’ he asked.
Her hesitation was only momentary. ‘Almost five years.’ ‘Five years to the day, actually,’ he said brusquely.
‘Are you accusing me of something?’
‘I remembered the date, Kaitlin.’
‘I wasn’t far off. Besides which, I don’t happen to mark on my calendar the anniversary of our last meeting.’
‘Apparently not,’ he agreed evenly.
‘What brings you here, Flynn?’
‘I came to see you.’
‘Just like that?’
Flynn hitched his fingers beneath the belt of his leghugging jeans. ‘Just like that.’
‘Without any notice.’
‘Did I have to give you notice I was coming?’
The last remnants of her shock had gone, he saw, for suddenly the lovely eyes were sparkling with challenge. ‘After all these years? Yes, Flynn! You could have written or at least phoned.’
‘Didn’t know it was necessary to do that,’ he drawled.
Her head lifted haughtily. ‘If you’d warned me, you’d have been sure of a welcome.’
Flynn gave a short laugh. ‘Have you become the Southern belle your mother always wanted you to be?’
‘What exactly are you trying to say?’
‘Expecting a man to announce his intention to visit? Playing one suitor off against another? Demanding flattery and lavish gifts? If so, you’re looking at the wrong man, Kaitlin Mullins. I don’t have time for social niceties.’
‘I’m no Southern belle,’ she said abruptly. ‘As for niceties, I have no time for them either. Which is why I’ll be quite direct and ask you to leave.’
‘I’m going nowhere. At least not yet.’
If she was taken aback, she did not show it. On the slender neck, the small head was erect. ‘That’s too bad, Flynn, because I have things to do.’
‘Busy, are you?’
‘Very busy.’
‘With what?’
‘Nothing that would interest you,’ she said defiantly.
Kaitlin was fiery and she had courage, Flynn acknowledged. Whatever ill luck adversity might have handed her, it hadn’t dampened her spirit.
‘Try me, Kaitlin.’
‘I don’t think so.’ Her tone was cool. ‘Sorry if I sound unwelcoming, Flynn, but I really do have things to do. Do you have access to the plane any time you want it?’
He nodded, and saw surprise in her eyes.
After a moment, she said, ‘Great. Means we can plan a future visit. I’d like to talk, find out what’s been happening in your life—but we’ll have do it some other time.’
‘You’re sounding like that Southern belle again,’ he mocked.
Kaitlin dropped her pretence at politeness. ‘Stop putting me down!’
‘When you stop putting me off.’
‘I’m just suggesting we postpone the visit for another time.’
‘We could, but we won’t,’ he said firmly. ‘And you haven’t told me what you’re so busy with.’
‘Can’t you take a hint? Look, Flynn Henderson, you’re wasting my time.’
‘Why is it so valuable?’
Kaitlin seemed to be trying very hard to keep her temper in check. ‘Phone me, Flynn, and we’ll arrange something that’s mutually convenient.’
She was about to jump on to the horse’s back, when Flynn caught the reins in his hands.
‘Mutually convenient, indeed. What kind of language is that between two people who used to be friends? More than friends, actually.’
To his satisfaction, two bright spots of red appeared in her cheeks. After a moment he went on, ‘Busy with what, Kaitlin? Why won’t you tell me?’
She was standing so close to him that Flynn was rocked by a host of sensations he thought he’d forgotten. He resisted the urge to pull her against him.
‘Let go of the reins!’ Kaitlin hissed.
Flynn was unyielding. ‘Busy with what?’
Kaitlin was silent a few seconds. In the small face an expression came and went. At last, as if she understood that he would persist until she answered him, she reluctantly said, ‘There’s a calf...’
Her tone was so low that Flynn had to bend his head in order to hear her. The fragrance of her hair filled his nostrils.
‘A calf?’
‘Lost. Maybe hurt. I have to go after it. Now do you understand why I can’t waste time chatting?’
Flynn decided not to ask why she had to undertake a chore normally done by one of the cowboys.
‘I’ll go with you,’ he said.
Her hair brushed his chin as she jerked against him. ‘Impossible. ’
‘Why?’
‘It’s quite a distance from here, and I’m going on horseback.’
‘We’ll both go on horseback, Kaitlin. And don’t tell me that’s impossible because we both know it’s not.’
‘We’re a long way from the stables, Flynn.’
His laughter was low and mocking. ‘You don’t say.’
Once more he moved swiftly. Giving Kaitlin no time to react, he picked her up. The feel of her in his arms surprised him. Thin as she was, he had not expected her to be quite so fragile. Her fragility moved him, touching the edges of the bitterness that had turned him into a driven man: a bitterness that had kept him on course when he might have given up his plans.
And then he was putting her in the saddle. Seconds later he was seated behind her, his arms around her, his hands next to hers on the reins.
Kaitlin swung around in the saddle, her face so close to him that Flynn could see the lights that warmed her eyes, and the small vertical lines on those very kissable lips.
He moved, his thighs closing around hers on the saddle. Kaitlin was still looking at him as his arms tightened around her. For a moment she leaned towards him, and he held his breath, wondering if she meant to kiss him.
At the last moment she pulled back. Flynn could have kissed her, but he didn’t. A low laugh erupted from his throat. Against him, Kaitlin tensed.
‘Get off my horse, Flynn.’ An angry order.
Once more he laughed. ‘Of course—in the stables. I’ll saddle another horse, and then we’ll go and rescue your calf.’
‘Flynn—’
‘And don’t try telling me I don’t know my way to the stables, because I’ll lay you a bet I can still get around this ranch blindfold.’
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