Texas Brides: The Rancher and the Runaway Bride & The Bluest Eyes in Texas: The Rancher & The Runaway Bride

However, the part of Tate that was alive to the danger of the situation was squelched by the part of her that was exhilarated to discover she could have such a profound effect on this man. Adam was quite unlike the men her brothers had so peremptorily ejected from Hawk’s Way. In some way she could not explain, he was different. She knew instinctively that his kiss, his touch, would be unlike anything she had ever experienced.

Nor did she feel the same person when she was near him. With this man, she was different. She was no longer her brothers’ little sister. She was a woman, with a woman’s need to be loved by one special man.

Instead of scooting quickly off the bed, she stayed right where she was. She tried her feminine wings just a bit by languidly turning on her side and propping her head up with her hand. She pulled one leg up slightly, mimicking the sexy poses she had seen in some of her brothers’ magazines—the ones they thought she knew nothing about.

Adam’s reaction was everything she could have wished for. His whole body tautened. A vein in his temple throbbed. The muscles in his throat worked spasmodically. And something else happened. Something which, considering the level she was lying at, she couldn’t help observing.

It was fascinating. She had never actually watched it happen to a man before. Mostly, the men she had dated were already in that condition before she had an opportunity to notice. The changing shape of Adam’s Levi’s left no doubt that he was becoming undeniably, indisputably, absolutely, completely aroused.

She gasped, and her eyes sought out his face to see what he intended to do about it.

Nothing! Adam thought. He was going to do absolutely nothing about the fact this hoyden in blue jeans had him harder than a rock in ten seconds flat!

“If you’re done testing your feminine wiles, I’d like to finish showing you the house,” Adam said.

Humiliated by the sarcasm in his voice, Tate quickly scooted off the bed. She had no trouble recognizing his feelings now. Irritation. Frustration. She felt the same things herself. She had never imagined how powerful desire could be. It was a lesson she wouldn’t forget.

She stood before him, chin high, unwilling to admit blame or shame or regret for what she had done. “I’m ready.”

Then strip down and get into that bed.

Adam clenched his teeth to keep from saying what he was thinking. He didn’t know when he had felt such unbridled lust for a woman. It wasn’t decent. But he damn sure wasn’t going to do anything about it!

“Come on,” he growled. “Follow me.”

Tate followed Adam back through the house to the kitchen, where they found a short, rotund Mexican woman with snapping black eyes and round, rosy cheeks. She was chopping onions at the counter. Tate was treated to a smile that revealed two rows of brilliant white teeth.

“Who have you brought to meet me, Señor Adam?” the woman asked.

“Maria, this is Tate Whitelaw. She’s going to be my new bookkeeper. Tate will be staying in the guest bedroom. Tate, I’d like you to meet my housekeeper, Maria Fuentes.”

“Buenos días, Maria,” Tate said.

“¡Habla usted español?” Maria asked.

“You’ve already heard all I know,” Tate said with a self-deprecating grin.

Maria turned to Adam and said in Spanish, “She is very pretty, this one. And very young. Perhaps you would wish me to be her dueña.”

Adam flushed and answered in Spanish, “I’m well aware of her age, Maria. She doesn’t need a chaperon around me.”

The Mexican woman arched a disbelieving brow. Again in Spanish she said, “You are a man, Señor Adam. And her eyes, they smile at you. It would be hard for any man to refuse such an invitation. No?”

“No!” Adam retorted. Then added in Spanish, “I mean, no I wouldn’t take advantage of her. She has no idea what she’s saying with her eyes.”

Maria’s disbelieving brow arched higher. “If you say so, Señor Adam.”

Tate had been trying to follow the Spanish conversation, but the only words she recognized were “Maria,” “chaperon,” “Señor Adam” and “No.” The look on Maria’s face made it clear she disapproved of the fact Tate would be living in the house alone with Adam. Well, she didn’t need a chaperon any more than she needed a keeper. She could take care of herself.

Fortunately, it wasn’t necessary for her to interrupt the conversation. A knock at the kitchen door did it for her. The door opened before anyone could answer it, and a young cowhand stuck his head inside. He had brown eyes and auburn hair and a face so tanned it looked like rawhide.

“Adam? You’re needed in the barn to take a look at that mare, Break of Day. She’s having some trouble foaling.”

“Sure. I’ll be there in a minute, Buck.”

Instead of leaving, the cowhand stood where he was, his eyes glued on the vision in a peasant blouse and skin-tight jeans standing in Adam’s kitchen. He stepped inside the door, slipped his hat off his head, and said, “Name’s Buck, ma’am.”

Tate smiled and held out her hand. “Tate Wh—atly.”

The cowboy shook her hand and then stood there foolishly grinning at her.

Adam groaned inwardly. This was a complication he should have foreseen, but hadn’t. Tate was bound to charm every cowhand on the place. He quickly crossed past her and put a hand on Buck’s shoulder to urge him out the door. “Let’s go.”

“Can I come with you?” Tate asked.

Before Adam could say no, Buck spoke up.

“Why sure, ma’am,” the cowboy said. “Be glad to have you along.”

There wasn’t much Adam could say except, “You can come. But stay out of the way.”

“What kind of trouble is the mare having?” Adam asked as they crossed the short distance to the barn, Tate following on their heels.

“She’s down and her breathing’s labored,” Buck said.

Tate saw as soon as they entered the stall that the mare was indeed in trouble. Her features were grim as she settled onto the straw beside the mare’s head. “There now, pretty lady. I know it’s hard. Just relax, you pretty lady, and everything will be all right.”

Adam and Buck exchanged a look of surprise and approval at the calm, matter-of-fact way Tate had insinuated herself with the mare. The mare lifted her head and whickered in response to the sound of Tate’s voice. Then she lay back down and a long, low groan escaped her.

Tate held the mare’s head while Adam examined her. “It’s twins.”

“Why that’s wonderful!” Tate exclaimed.

“One of them’s turned wrong, blocking the birth canal.” In fact, there was one hoof from each of the twins showing.

“Surely your vet can deliver them!”

Adam’s features were somber as he answered, “He’s out of town at his daughter’s wedding.” Adam couldn’t imagine a way to save either foal, entangled as they were.

Tate’s excitement vanished to be replaced with foreboding. She had encountered this problem once before, and the result had come close to being disastrous. Garth had managed to save the mare and both foals, but it had been a very near thing.

“I’ll have to take one foal to save the other,” Adam said in a flat voice.

“You mean, destroy it?” Tate asked. She couldn’t bring herself to say “dismember it” though that was what Adam was suggesting.

“There’s nothing else I can do.” Adam turned to the cowboy and said, “Buck, see if you can find me some rope.”

Tate stroked the mare’s neck, trying to keep the animal calm. She looked up and saw the dread in Adam’s eyes. It was never easy to make such decisions, yet they were a constant part of ranch life.