Vixen In Disguise

But Annie had come. She was standing before him, looking like a mirage in the lantern light, her green eyes keeping a wary watch on him. Which meant that maybe she was still interested.

He leaned against a stack of round hay bales and folded his arms. “So, Annie, what’s your story? Why the big deception?” he asked, his tone intentionally casual. “And why the disappearing act?” She’d really thrown him for a loop when he’d awakened that Monday morning after the rodeo to find her gone.

He wasn’t like a lot of the guys on the circuit who slept with any buckle bunny who came along, making empty promises then awkward goodbyes when it came time to move on to the next rodeo. Not that he was a monk, but he’d thought Annie was special—different.

Worth his time and attention.

Though they’d made no promises, he’d felt so good when he was with her that he’d been silently plotting ways he could keep her hanging around. He’d thought she felt the same.

She said nothing, just stood there with her hands clenched, staring at the floor.

“Cat got your tongue?” he asked, enjoying her discomfort. “Come on, you’re a lawyer. Lawyers have to know how to talk, right? Damn, I never would have guessed.”

“The woman you met at the Mesquite Rodeo,” she finally said, “that wasn’t me. She—”

“I thought we covered that territory earlier.”

“I mean, physically she was in my body, but she wasn’t the real Anne Chatsworth.” She paced, a caged lioness looking for a crack she could squeeze through.

Abruptly she stopped and faced him squarely. Though she still wore the conservative clothes from earlier, some of her hair had worked itself loose from her knot and squiggled around her face. Her eyes were large and luminous, and she’d lost that tight, controlled expression he’d seen at the fair.

“I was studying for finals and having a real hard time,” she continued. “The pressure, the doubts, the stress—you can’t imagine what that’s like unless you go through it.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t know anything about stress. I’m just a simple cowboy. Is that it?”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sure you’ve had stress in your life at one time or another. I’m just trying to explain where my mind was.”

“Okay, I’ll agree, you were under pressure. Go on.”

“That Friday I kind of lost it. I’d been studying nonstop for hours, days, and I just…snapped. I needed a break. No, I needed more than that. I needed to get away from everything—forget everything, including myself.”

“Enter Annie the slow-talking rodeo girl.” She looked at him, her face pleading with him to understand.

“I’ll be damned,” he said. “So I was nothing to you but Cowboy Valium?”

She sank onto a rickety wooden bench. “I guess you could put it that way, although at the beginning I certainly had no intention of…of…”

“…picking up some guy and sleeping with him,” he finished for her.

“Exactly.”

“But that’s what you did. Any particular reason you picked me?”

“You make it sound so premeditated. I recognized your name when the announcer said it. I remembered you, although I’m sure the reverse isn’t true. Last time we saw each other, I was twelve and you were sixteen, so I probably didn’t register on your radar screen. I used to hang out at the Livestock Exchange arena and watch you practice with Traveler when he was just a colt.”

She was right, he’d been focused on other matters. Getting Traveler up to competition speed so he could get the hell out of Cottonwood had been the only thing he could think about back then.

“Anyway, after you won your event, I went back to the chutes to find you so I could say hi, you know, a friendly voice from back home. But I sort of never got around to mentioning Cottonwood.”

“You never even told me your last name. So you could make a clean getaway after you seduced me?”

“Hey, come on. There was a lot of mutual seducing going on, if you’ll recall.”

Oh, yeah, he recalled. And so did she, judging from the way she was breathing, quick and shallow, and the flare of heat in her eyes.

“You know, this doesn’t sound much like an apology,” he said.

“I’m getting there. Let me finish.”

“I’ve got all night.” He couldn’t be sure, because the light was so dim, but he thought she blushed. That was something he loved about redheads, about Annie in particular. It was so easy to make her blush.

“Going to bed with you wasn’t a premeditated act. It just happened. And afterward I knew I should go home and forget about it, get on with my studies, but I couldn’t make myself leave.”

He remembered that. He remembered how she’d talked about getting home, how he’d actually walked her to her car, but then they’d started kissing again, and she’d forgotten all about leaving. Somehow she’d ended up staying with him all night—then all the next day, then through the weekend.

They hadn’t been able to get enough of each other. He’d been crazy about her, unable to think of anything else—even his upcoming rodeo events. Nothing had ever before distracted him from his obsession.

“I guess I needed that time away from my studying more than I knew,” she said. “It felt like a drug in my system. The longer I pretended to be Annie, the less I wanted to go back to reality.”

“Did you ever think that maybe Annie is your reality? And the other is just an elaborate personality you’ve invented?”

She looked at him sharply. “Annie isn’t real. I’m not like her. I don’t flirt and I don’t dress that way. I’m a very serious person who is pursuing a very demanding career. Practicing law has always been my dream, and I’m almost there.”

Well. She’d told him. “Did you flunk your exams?”

“No. I left you early that Monday morning because I had a test at ten o’clock.”

“You could have woke me up and told me that.”

She shook her head. “I was afraid you’d talk me into staying. I was really scared by what I’d done, Wade. I panicked. I ran back to the world where I belonged. You and the rodeo—that was a fantasy.”

He stood up, angered by her words, and made a mock bow. “Glad I could oblige. But next time you need to blow off steam, try racquetball.”

“I didn’t think it would matter to you. We both knew it was a temporary thing. You were on the road. I figured you slept with a different girl in every town, that you’d be glad I left without all those uncomfortable goodbyes.”

“Yeah, well, you’re right. It stung a little, waking up in that empty bunk, not even a note, but it wasn’t all that hard to find a replacement.” Big lie. He hadn’t slept with anyone since Annie. Too busy, too focused on the competition. Anyway, every time he looked at an attractive woman now, he compared her to Annie and found her lacking.

Annie had spoiled him.

“That’s what I figured.” Her voice cracked, making Wade wonder if his barb had found its mark. Did she have any feelings about what happened between them?

“What you did wasn’t very nice,” he said. “Even if it was just a casual affair.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t handle the situation better. I was out of my element. I’d never had a one-night stand before.”

“Three nights.” Three glorious, earth-shattering, life-altering nights of the steamiest lovemaking he’d ever experienced.

“Three nights,” she agreed. “It was a wonderful weekend, the best—Oh, hell, I’m going to blow it now.”

“I don’t think so. Finish what you were saying. My ego could use a boost.”

She turned away from him. “It was the best time I ever had.”

He came up quietly behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. She tensed, so he didn’t push it—didn’t press his lips to that sensitive place on her neck he knew about, didn’t pull the pins out of that ridiculously tight knot her hair was in, didn’t wrap his arms around her body and hold her fast against him until she agreed not to run.

He knew running was exactly what she had in mind, and there was probably nothing he could do about it.

“I guess you’re not here to take up where we left off,” he said.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

She stepped out of his loose grasp and turned to face him. “A casual affair just isn’t my style. Anyway, you wouldn’t really want to bother with me. I’m so completely different from Annie.”

“Maybe you’d be more like her if you’d smile once in a while. Is that some kind of lifestyle choice?”

“I don’t have anything to smile about right now, okay?”

“Your dream coming true doesn’t make you smile?”

“It hasn’t come true yet. I don’t have a job. I haven’t passed the bar. Lots of hurdles to jump.”

“So you’re under a lot of stress.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

He ran one finger down her cheek, gratified to feel her tremble. Nice to know he still had some effect on her. “I know a really good stress buster. It’s called Cowboy Valium.”

She hesitated a fraction of a second longer, then jumped out of his reach. “No. That’s not why I came here. And if you chose this isolated place for us to meet so you could seduce me, you’re in for a disappointment.”

“As I recall, lady, you were the one who insisted on privacy.”

“It would be pointless to start something. I’ll be leaving town again in a couple of weeks. And I can’t afford any distractions. I’ve got job interviews, I’ve got to study for the bar…”

“Who are you trying to convince?”

“I’m just not the temporary-fling type.”

Neither was he. But unlike Anne, he wasn’t convinced a fling was all they could have. Sure, the circumstances worked against them, but anything was possible if they put their minds to it.

If he spoke his thoughts out loud, she would probably break something running away from him. A skit-tish woman like Anne required careful handling.

The kindest thing he could do right now was let her go. Unfortunately, he wasn’t feeling kind. “You can’t tell me you’re not real, Annie.”

“Stop calling me Annie.”

“The woman called Annie is part of you. You can’t convince me otherwise. And if you ask me, Annie is worth a dozen uptight, frowning, defeminized, frumpish Anne Chatsworths. A fat paycheck and a sixty-hour workweek won’t keep you warm at night, and it won’t make you laugh, and it’ll probably send you to an early grave. Stress does that, you know.”

She was silent, and Wade was afraid he’d gone too far. So much for careful handling.

She turned and stalked out of the barn, and Wade didn’t follow her. Moments later he heard her car starting, then tires spinning in dirt as she peeled out.

ANNE FUMED the whole way home. She was so mad, in fact, that she forgot to be quiet when she pulled her car into the driveway. She got out and slammed the door, then made all kinds of noise as she entered the same way she’d come out.

Uptight, frowning, defeminized, frumpish… Just because she wasn’t wearing tight jeans and a low-cut blouse? Because she hadn’t troweled on two pounds of makeup, and her hair wasn’t teased up Dolly Parton big?

How dare Wade Hardison try to tell her how to live her life? Just because she’d spent a weekend with him, did that make him think he knew everything about her?

She was furious that he made her so tongue-tied, really ticked that he’d gotten in the last word. What kind of lawyer would she be if she froze up when an opponent got the advantage? She’d completely lost her cool. And, damn it, her cool was one of the few things she had going for her right now.

“Anne?”

Anne stopped short as she entered the kitchen. Her father was making himself a cup of hot cocoa. “Oh, hi, Dad.” Stay calm, don’t let him see that anything’s wrong. He would only worry about her.

“Where have you been?” he asked with a frown. “I thought you’d gone to bed.”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a drive.”

“Why didn’t you let us know you were leaving?”

“C’mon, Dad, I’m not sixteen anymore.”

“I know, honey, but we’re still allowed to worry about you, aren’t we? If your mother had stopped in your room to say good-night, she would have been frantic to find you gone.”

Anne sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll be more considerate in the future.”

Milton smiled. “Want some hot chocolate? Might help you sleep.”

“No, thanks. I’m tired now. Good night.” She kissed her father on the cheek, then slipped up the back stairs, avoiding her mother and the inevitable questions. She’d probably still get them at breakfast tomorrow, but she’d be in better shape to answer them after a good night’s sleep.

If she could get one. She was still steamed, and her blood felt hot in her veins—not just from anger, but desire. She still wanted Wade Hardison’s body with the same intensity she’d experienced at the rodeo, despite everything that had happened. She could still feel the warm pressure of his hands on her shoulders, the tickle of his breath against her neck. Though she would never admit it, it had taken all of her willpower to turn down Wade’s suggestion that they take up where they’d left off.

She would just have to avoid him for however long he was in town. Which reminded her—how long was he in town? Why was he here, when he’d sworn to her he would never go home, never be forgiven by his family? What had changed his mind?

ON HIS WAY BACK to the house, Wade stopped in the new, modern barn his brother Jonathan had built. He wanted to check on Traveler. The bay quarter horse stood in his stall, completely still, probably asleep. Normally Traveler was alert the moment anyone came near him. His inertia concerned Wade almost as much as the injury. Maybe it was the medicine.

Wade resisted the urge to scratch the stallion’s forelock, Traveler’s favorite form of affection. The horse might need to sleep.

He started to turn away, then heard a familiar nicker. He turned and smiled. Traveler must have caught his scent and wakened. Wade scratched the horse’s black forelock, like he’d wanted to do, then behind his ears, then rubbed the soft skin under his jaw. Traveler nuzzled Wade’s ear, then searched his hands for a treat.

“Sorry, buddy, I gave you the last carrot after dinner.” Traveler made a pleading noise, and Wade, as usual, caved in. “Oh, all right. But too many treats while you can’t exercise, and you’ll get fat.” He found a handful of oats and fed it to the horse, grateful that at least Traveler had rediscovered his appetite. For a couple of days after his injury, when he’d been in pain and pumped up with drugs, he’d wanted nothing to do with food.

Wade changed the compress on Traveler’s right front leg, then spent a few minutes grooming him, even though he didn’t need it. Still, he knew the horse enjoyed the attention. Traveler had always loved to have Wade curry him. He even stood still while Wade worked a tangle out of his tail.

That done, Wade gave the stallion a few parting pats, then headed back to the house. It was after midnight. He doubted anyone would be up to question what he was doing out so late.

As he poured himself a glass of milk, he thought again about the woman who called herself Anne Chatsworth. He actually liked her more serious side, despite what he’d said. Life wasn’t all fun and games, as it had been for Annie.

Anne was very different from the flirtatious, easygoing country girl who’d wooed him at the rodeo in Dallas—and yet he saw flashes of Annie rippling to the surface every now and then. Annie wasn’t some fictitious character, she was a very real part of Anne that had somehow been vanquished.

By whom or what? he wondered. And when?

It was fine for a woman to want a career. He knew what it was like to be focused on a goal, to think about it night and day, to dream about reaching the top. Lord knew he’d spent a good deal of his life in that very state. Sure, there were frustrations along the way. Stress. Setbacks. Doubts. But his rodeo work had always brought him joy. His eyes were always on the goal, but he hadn’t been so obsessed that he hadn’t enjoyed the journey.

Joy seemed to be missing from Anne’s life. She was on the verge of embarking on the path she’d been preparing for all these years, yet he sensed no anticipation, no excitement. She probably had her pick of law firms. She could go to any city she wanted, explore all kinds of different career possibilities. Yet all he sensed in her was sorrow.

Maybe it was none of his business, but he couldn’t leave it at that. He’d seen what happened to people who weren’t living a life that made them happy. His mother was the perfect example. She’d been brilliant—could have been a Nobel prize-winning scientist. But she’d met Wade’s father at some medical conference and had opted for the life of a small-town doctor’s wife.

The lack of intellectual stimulation had ultimately killed her. Oh, technically it was cancer, but Wade had recognized that she’d lost the will to live.

One of the last things she’d told him was that he had to follow his dream, even if it wasn’t the same dream his family wanted for him. He’d held those words close to his heart, followed her advice and never regretted it.

What he did regret was the way he’d left Cottonwood—angry, bitter, full of the bullheaded pride only a teenage boy can exhibit. Too damn proud to apologize for things he never should have said. He regretted the family rift, one he could have healed a long time ago if he’d tried.

To Wade’s surprise he found his brother Jonathan in the den watching TV. Jonathan was a rancher down to his marrow, which meant early mornings. He was seldom up past nine o’clock in the evening.

Wade considered sneaking on up to bed, then decided he might be passing up an opportunity. It was hard to talk to Jonathan because he was always so busy. The man hardly ever stood still.

Wade stepped into the den and without a word plopped down on the couch and propped his booted feet on the coffee table. If Jonathan was in the mood to talk, he’d say something. If not, well, a few minutes of companionable silence wouldn’t hurt.

Jonathan was watching an old John Wayne movie. Typical. Wade wasn’t a big fan of the Duke, but he watched, anyway.

“Where you been?” Jonathan finally asked.

“With Traveler.”

“He doin’ any better?”

“Swelling’s down. Doc Chandler says we can start physical therapy tomorrow.”

“Good. If anyone can get your old horse back in top form, Chandler can.”

“He’s not old.”

“He’s thirteen.”

“Lots of horses compete well into their teens.” A long pause. Then Jonathan asked, “Seen the new filly Larry’s been training?”

“The black? Yeah, nice-looking animal.”

“Rodeo potential?”

Strange question, coming from Jonathan, who’d never made it a secret he thought rodeo was the biggest waste of time and livestock on earth.

“Spirited,” Wade replied. “Lots of explosive power, probably be fast out of a chute. Good heart, seems eager to please.”

“But?”

“Easily distracted. Shies at anything.”

“She’s still young. She might get over that.”

“With the right training,” Wade agreed. Another pause. “You want to work with her?” Wade’s heart leaped at the chance to train such a fine-looking horse. If he could turn a mutt like Traveler into a champion, just imagine what he could do with—He stopped his runaway imagination, spotting the trap.

“Ah, no, no thanks. I start working your stock, next thing you know I’ll be out castrating calves.”

Jonathan abruptly shut off the television, silencing the Duke midsentence. “You ungrateful little—”

“What? Just because I don’t want to work as an unpaid ranch hand? Why do you think I left here in the first place?”

“If you’d listen once in a while instead of jumping to conclusions, you might not be such a hothead.”

“Hothead?”

“I thought if you worked with the mare, and you liked her, I might give her to you. I was not plotting to turn you into slave labor.”

Well, that took the wind right out of Wade’s sails.

“You might say thanks.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Amazing how hard that one word was to push past his teeth. “I don’t need two horses, though.”

“Traveler’s competition days might be over.” Wade’s jaw tensed, and he consciously relaxed it. “He’ll be fine.”

Jonathan shrugged. “This time, maybe. But what about next year?”

“I’ll worry about that when the time comes.” And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have to worry about it.

“So where were you, really?” Jonathan asked. “I was at the barn till eleven-thirty. You weren’t with Traveler.”

“It’s been a lot of years since anybody kept tabs on my activities.”

“Just curious.”

“I was with a woman.”

Jonathan looked his younger brother up and down. “You work fast. You’ve been here, what, three days?”

“We were just talking.”

“Who? Or am I being too nosy?”

“Too nosy.” He wasn’t ready to talk about his Annie to anyone yet. Especially not when she’d just shot him down so thoroughly.

He wasn’t done with her, though. She might not know it yet, but she needed him, and not just for a weekend. Somebody had to put a smile back on that girl’s face—and keep it there.

Chapter Three

“Well, Anne, everything looks great,” Jeff Hardison said, closing the folder that held her chart. “Your weight’s almost back to normal, there’s no sign of infection, and you’ve even smiled at me once or twice.”

She appreciated his vote of confidence. Jeff had seen her at her worst, and it was partly due to his conscientious care that she was looking and feeling so much better. Not back to normal. She’d been broken and glued back together—she probably would never be exactly the same person she was before. But at least she was in one piece and moving forward.

“I’m feeling great,” she confirmed. “So why do we have to do the blood tests?”

“Anne, we’ve been over this.”

“But I’m not sure there’s really a point. I’d like to move forward, not dwell on the past.”

“This is looking forward,” he insisted. “If there’s a problem, it could affect your ability to have children in the future.”

“I don’t plan to have children.”

“You might change your mind. You’re only twenty-five.”

He had a point. For the next five to ten years she would not have the time to devote to raising a family. Her law career would demand 100 percent of her concentration. If she had a husband, kids, they would only end up neglected—and what was the point in that?

But once she was established, once she’d paid her dues, she might want to switch gears. She wasn’t dumb enough to believe a career could answer all of her needs.

“All right. Might as well get it over with.”

“I’ll have Molly draw the blood. She’s so gentle, it’ll feel like a butterfly kiss.”

“Yeah, right.” Anne laughed despite her concerns.

“It’s good to hear you laugh. Keep it up, huh?” In a treatment room a few minutes later, Anne determinedly studied a spot on the wall while Molly, Jeff’s nurse, deftly inserted a needle into Anne’s arm. As long as she didn’t look at the needle or see the blood, she would be okay. At least, that was what she told herself.

She’d put off her follow-up visit to Jeff for several days, until Jeff himself had called the house and reminded her. Even knowing he wanted her blood, she hadn’t been able to come up with a graceful excuse. So here she was, letting Molly torture her.

“They’re having a sale over at Hollywood Lingerie,” Molly said, continuing her nonstop monologue. Anne didn’t know if Molly’s chatter was designed to distract patients from the procedure or if she just liked to talk, but it did help.

“I’ve never been there,” Anne made herself answer. “What kind of stuff do they have? Ouch.”

“Sorry. Well, a lot of real naughty stuff, that’s what. Negligees with cutouts in places you just can’t believe, and panties so sheer you might as well not be wearing any.”

Anne didn’t own any sexy lingerie. She’d been raised in practical white cotton, which her mother insisted was the only sort of underwear a real lady would wear. In college she’d branched out to pastels, but that was as wild as she’d gotten.