The Rancher's Surrender

“You were...” She struggled to keep her train of thought, difficult when all the blood rushed out of her head at the rough, unexpected embrace. “Rude to Cliff.”

“I know.” His forehead lowered to hers at the startling admission. “What is it about you that drives me so crazy?”

It was a rhetorical question, but with his lips hovering only a scant inch from hers, Zoe felt the compulsive need to keep talking because if she stopped, he might kiss her and then she would be lost.

“Don’t worry,” she said quickly. “I drive everyone crazy, it’s not just you. Ask Delia—”

“Delia’s not here.” His large hands captured her head with surprising gentleness. Slowly he tilted it up, better aligning their mouths so that if he so much as breathed, they’d be connected.

It couldn’t happen, she thought, unreasonable panic welling. This was crazy, they had no business doing this, none at all. Forget her wild fantasy involving his wicked mouth covering hers, of his tough, powerful body doing things to her own, of his deep, husky voice detailing each one of those things... Goodness. Forget it, this was not what she wanted.

But he was going to kiss her if she didn’t do something, anything. “Ty...I don’t think—”

“That’s right,” he murmured, his eyes heavy-lidded. “Don’t think. Feel.”

“But—” He was watching her mouth with a hot, intent purpose that had her knees knocking together. “Ty...”

“Hmm-mmm...”

He wasn’t going to listen to her. Well, she knew what to do, she was from Los Angeles, and well prepared. “Ty,...”

“Shh.” His hips slid over hers, the hard ridge between his thighs unmistakable. He did it again, finding the soft notch between hers, and she was putty m his hands. “Ty...I don’t—”

“Zoe.” Just that, just her name on a groaning sigh.

Nope, listening was beyond him, it was nearly beyond her. So she did the only thing she could think of to stop him.

She punched him.

Chapter 4 (#ulink_d8dda650-4cd9-5194-8290-98805f828e46)

One week later, as spring gave way to summer, Zoe began to regret her rash decision in turning down Ty for a partnership.

And also for punching him in the belly.

Ty had pretty much ignored her, brooding and silent whenever they were together. However, with her sisters he’d been Mr. Charm.

Zoe told herself she could live with that.

What she couldn’t live with was the ranch in its current condition. The only income they generated was the land Ty currently leased for his own operation. Which meant one fourth of the land looked good and cared for. He had fenced in pastures for his horses, and not only were they beautiful and impressive, it was an unbelievable thrill to stand outdoors, on land that belonged to her and her sisters, and watch nature take its course.

With the warm season came a patchwork of colors so brilliant it hurt the eye. Wheat, peas, alfalfa and wildflowers all grew naturally, blowing gently in the breeze, framed in by the river and the mountains. It was gorgeous beyond anything she’d ever known, and her love for the place grew.

She didn’t want to give up on it, but they had to be able to survive.

Enchanted by the magnificent land, despite the isolation and clear-cut problems, Zoe and her sisters had agreed—they’d stick it out until the end. For better or worse.

Only for Zoe, it’d gotten worse. She’d had no clue how hard it would be to see Ty Jackson on a daily basis. Hell, on an hourly basis.

He was everywhere.

Long, powerful legs strained his snug, faded jeans. Tough, rugged shoulders managed to take on amazing amounts of work and responsibility. And his silent, crooked, knowing smile that taunted her.

“What’s the matter, Slim?” he called out from his spot twenty-five yards away.

“Did I complain?” she snapped, turning her back to him.

Being manager could have meant any of a thousand things, but thankfully he seemed to respect them enough to let them make their own decisions for the ranch. Unfortunately they had no idea what those decisions should be.

Ty had a full staff of trainers and ranch hands at his own place, and since Triple M didn’t, and couldn’t afford one, he’d committed to riding fences on their land today, a chore desperately needed. To Maddie and Delia’s combined delight, and Zoe’s suspicion, Ty had taken Zoe as his helper.

This amused her sisters because they both sensed exactly how explosive she and Ty were together, and since the closest video store was an hour’s drive away, it served as their entertainment.

Maddie had days ago suggested, in her sweet, calm way, that Zoe try harder to get along with Ty, that maybe Zoe was mad because Ty did what no one else did—made Zoe feel.

Maddie didn’t know what she was talking about, grumbled Zoe as the sun beat down on her. She saw no reason to try to get along with the man who was only being nice to her to get her land, no matter how good his arms had felt around her.

He drove her crazy on purpose, she thought darkly, wiping her damp forehead with her arm. He thrived on it, as if he was as strangely frustrated as she at their strange, unaccountable attraction.

Ever since that night she’d slugged him, he’d stopped teasing her at every turn, but he still, when she least expected it, shot her one of his...looks.

The scorching, hungry, “maybe I’m going to kiss you in spite of you hitting me” look that made her bones melt. Made her yearn and ache and...yes, dammit, feel, in a world where she’d learned that feeling only hurt. She’d been with Delia and Maddie for years, and still she’d managed to keep a good part of Zoe to herself.

So what made it so hard with Ty?

He hadn’t attempted to kiss her again, yet he’d kissed her sisters regularly. Sweet little pecks with closed lips. He kissed other women like Shirley—which for reasons Zoe didn’t want to think about, made her want to strangle him, especially since those kisses were not so sweet and not so little at all.

Zoe knew this because she’d had the misfortune to catch him kissing the woman in the barn. Well, to be honest, as Ty had told her, Shirley had kissed him. But it’d been a long, deep, messy-looking kiss.

She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut against the strange pooling of heat between her thighs.

What made that memory even worse was the way Ty had looked when he’d finally managed to pull back. Dark, intense...aroused in spite of himself.

And some pathetic little part of Zoe wanted to feel that way, too. Wanted Ty to make her feel that way.

Was she that awful? She hadn’t hit him that hard, had she? And it was only because she’d been frightened, not of him, but of what he made her feel.

God. What was she thinking? Zoe didn’t care why he didn’t kiss her! She was thankful, yes, she was.

She didn’t want to be that desperate for anyone. If she just stuck mostly to herself, she’d be just fine. Yes, she had Delia and Maddie, but she knew deep down, one day they’d get married and have children and drift away from her. They’d find others in their lives to love and she would be fine with that.

She’d be alone again, and she’d be fine. Just fine.

Ty patiently held the wire. The sun gleamed off his reflective sunglasses so that she couldn’t see his eyes, but she imagined they were lit with amusement—at her expense. “Don’t tell me you broke a nail,” he called out.

“Shut up,” she called back in what she meant to be an amiable tone, but she sounded weary even to her own ears. Straightening, she stretched her aching body, knowing she’d lie down and die before she admitted she was tired. Die, too, before admitting she’d been thinking of him.

Shoving her long, out-of-control hair back, she wished for a hair band with all her might. She lifted her hands to raise it off her hot neck, but her hands were disgustingly dirty. Shrugging her shoulders at this minor inconvenience, just one more in a long line of many, she snipped off an extra piece of wire and twisted it in her hair, far more concerned with comfort than looks.