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