Martha Shields - The Princess And The Cowboy

“What? Where’s Candy?” The tall, gaunt man held his palms toward them. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. As long as I got someone to carry the Dodge flag, I don’t care. Mount up, Josie. It’s show time.”

Buck glanced down at Josie, who stood in the circle of his arm. “You ready?”

She took a deep breath. “I guess so.”

She guided the reins over the mare’s neck as she moved down its side to mount.

Unable to resist the opportunity, Buck set his hands on her hips and lifted her onto the saddle. She was tall and though slender, she was no featherweight. Not that lifting her was any effort for him. Like most steer wrestlers, he was a big man, and he liked the solid feel of her.

With one hand on her knee, he grabbed her hands with his other as she gathered the reins. “Meet me here after I ride, okay?”

She sat ramrod straight in the saddle and looked down at him like a princess from her throne. Her golden-brown eyes searched his face as if he were an animal she’d never seen before. “Will you kiss me again…for luck?”

The contrast of her haughty posture and provocative words made desire stab deep into his gut. “Better not, sweetheart. I might not be able to stop. But I’ll definitely take you up on that offer later. Hell, if we’re getting married, we’re going to be doing a lot more than kissing.”

Crimson brushed across her cheeks, but the smile she gave him was as brilliant as the arena lights. “I’ll meet you here.”

He released her, and with a gentle kick, she sent the mare toward the gate where Hal was waving her on frantically.

Buck pushed back his hat and watched her pause to lift the Dodge Truck flag, then maneuver into place beside another princess, who watched her curiously.

Will you kiss me again?

Was it possible he’d finally found a woman who didn’t feel the need to play games? One who was unafraid to match his libido kiss for kiss, caress for caress, thrust for thrust?

And to top it off, she was beautiful, sexy and a trashy trailer-park queen to boot.

Okay, not a queen, just a princess, but that would do.

He hoped like hell his instincts were right. If they were, he couldn’t wait to take her home tomorrow night to meet the folks.

With a smug smile, Buck turned back toward his horse.

His mother was going to have a heifer.

“Four-point-six seconds!” the announcer bellowed over the loudspeaker. The sound carried easily to where Josie hid among the trucks and trailers. “The best bulldogging time of the evening, folks. Buck Buchanan rode like a man possessed! Let’s give him a great big hand. He’s in the money tonight.”

Dieu merci, he was fin—

No. Thank God he was finished. If her charade was going to be successful, she had to weed the French words from her vocabulary. Thank God her English was unaccented and full of American slang and idioms, courtesy of all the years she’d known Melissa.

Josie peered around the cab of a truck, but couldn’t see Buck approaching. She hoped he hadn’t changed his mind.

She needed to get away, fast.

After sending the mare she’d borrowed back over the fence toward the Porter stables, she’d spotted a young woman carrying the Versace gown. Despite a red flush on her cheeks and neck, the woman didn’t look sick at all. In fact, she was obviously angry and looking for her stolen clothes.

Then a local sheriff’s car pulled up at the edge of the parking lot. When two deputies began showing the people milling around a picture, Josie had to assume they were looking for her.

So far she’d avoided being found by either Candy or the cops. But what would she do if Buck Buchanan didn’t show up? What if he’d changed his—

Her attention was snagged by the swaggering gait of a tall, muscular man leading a horse from the arena. Though he was silhouetted by the bright lights, she knew it was Buck.

More than relief flowed through her. As she remembered how his big, hard body had felt against hers, how his lips had nearly caused her to spontaneously combust, her heart began pounding like the drums that had welcomed her on her state visit to Kenya. The sensation distracted her so much she didn’t realize he was looking for her until he called her name.

“Sssshhhh!”

Buck peered into the shadows on the parking lot and saw a piquant face surrounded by enormous blond hair peeking around the cab of a truck. Relief flooded through him. “What are you—”

“Come here.” She waved him over. “Hurry, please.”

Her impatience made him recall the desire biting at him ever since they’d parted. He grinned as he joined her behind the truck. “Want another kiss, sweetheart? Well, here I come—ready, willing and more than able.”

She grabbed his arm and hauled him into her hiding place, glancing nervously behind him as she did. “Can we leave now, please?”

A little miffed that she hadn’t wanted the embrace he’d been craving for over an hour, he pushed his hat back. “I reckon. What did you do with your mare?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Oh. I had to give her back. She wasn’t mine.”

He nodded. Borrowing mounts at rodeos was as common as muddy jeans from dirt landings. Still, he had the feeling something wasn’t altogether what it should be. Josie didn’t act like a woman excited about getting hitched. She didn’t seem excited at all. She seemed distracted, worried…almost scared.

He cussed as the most likely possibility hit him. “You running away from something, sweetheart?”

Her only answer was to look away guiltily.

Damn. He knew his trailer-park queen was too good to be true. “What is it? The law? Or am I going to have a jealous husband breathing down my neck any minute?”

She was clearly horrified. “Would I be marrying you if I was already married?”

He shrugged. “It’s not legal, but it’s been done.”

She shook her head vehemently, which made her blond hair slip a bit to the side, enough to release a dark lock of hair.

Buck smiled. A wig. Who wore wigs but old women and trailer-park queens?

She really was the kind of woman he was looking for.

“Nothing like that, I promise,” she insisted. “It’s…my father. He wants me to marry a man I don’t want to marry. I have to get away from here as soon as possible. Please help me.”

Her obvious anxiety and the fact that she didn’t evade the question made Buck believe her. Or maybe it was because his own parents were trying to do the same thing to him.

He drew a finger across the satin smoothness of her jaw. “I bet the guy’s rich, isn’t he?”

She nodded solemnly. “Will you help me? Please? I don’t have any money at the moment, but I do have a couple of pieces of jewelry I can sell that should bring enough money to pay you.”

“Pay me?” Buck chuckled at the ridiculous notion. At least it proved she didn’t know who he was. Relieved she wasn’t a gold digger planning to alimony him out of his money, he slipped his free hand around her back and bent to kiss her temple. “That’s cute, sweetheart. Of course I’ll help you, but you don’t have to pay me.”

She craned her neck so she could see him. “Yes, I do. You’ll understand more when I tell you what my conditions are. But please, can we talk about them on the way to Reno?”

“I just have one question. How old are you?”

She looked puzzled, but answered, “I’ll be twenty-five in three weeks. Why?”

“You’re legal. Good. Just checking.” He gathered his gelding’s reins closer. “You have any suitcases?”

She shook her head.

Hell, she really was running away. “Let me load Agamemnon and pick up my check, then we’ll head on out.”

“If you’ll show me where your trailer is, I’ll load your gelding while you pick up the check. It’ll be faster.”

His gaze swept her worried face. “Someone’s here right now, looking for you, aren’t they?”

She hesitated, then nodded.

“Hell, my check’s not that big. We’ll just go ahead and—”

“No.” She placed a hand on his arm. “You need your check. Melis—Um, I know how rodeo cowboys live.”

He wasn’t going to tell her that he always signed his rodeo checks over to the next charity he came across. His only stipulation was that the donation remain anonymous. He didn’t want to let his rodeo buddies know he needed these checks about as much as the Double Star needed hills.

“All right.” He pointed out his red Chevrolet truck attached to a two-horse trailer with a built-in camper. Both were battered, with chipped paint. He’d spent several days making them look that way. Inside they weren’t fancy, but both held all the basic comforts a man or horse could want. “There’s my rig. It’s not locked.”

She nodded and moved her hands to Aggie’s reins. She stroked the horse’s nose as she let him nuzzle her hand to smell her scent, then she moved to each side of the gelding so he could see her out of both eyes. “Sounds like you performed well tonight. You deserve a good rubdown.”

The evidence that she knew and respected horses made Buck’s admiration rise even more. He brushed his mouth against hers. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

Even if he had to hound the rodeo secretary to sign his check.

“Isn’t that wig uncomfortable?”

Startled by Buck’s question, Josie turned from the side mirror where she’d been watching for vehicles that might be following them. They’d left Auburn twenty minutes ago, heading into the mountains toward the Nevada state line. Up to now, Buck had been quiet, intent on guiding his rig onto the 180.

“Wig?” She had a moment of panic, having been convinced she’d had everyone fooled.

For an answer, he reached across and tugged at a strand of dark hair lying on her cheek. He pulled until the long tress was free from beneath the wig. “You’re not a blonde.”

Her stomach fluttered at the way he was caressing the black strand, and she drew it from the masculine fingers. “Does that matter?”

“Not at all.” He sent a glance down her form. “It just makes me wonder what else isn’t real.”

Since he was eyeing her overly generous bust, she sighed. He might as well know the worst now. First she eased the wig off her head. She couldn’t suppress a moan of relief when the pressure of the tight band holding it in place was gone.

Strands of hair escaped her once-perfect chignon, but she couldn’t make any repairs at the moment other than pushing them off her face. Then, casting an uneasy glance at Buck, she reached inside the sequined weskit and began pulling tissues from the bodice.

When he saw what she was doing, Buck smiled, then chuckled. The next time he glanced over, he started laughing out loud. The more tissues she took out, the harder he laughed.

When she was finally finished, she glared at him.

He looked at her, and kept laughing.

A smile tugged at Josie’s lips, and when she glanced down at the mountain of tissues on her lap, she let her lips curve.

“Is there anything left of you in there?” he asked, wiping at tears of mirth.

Josie held the weskit against her bust. “Not all that much, I’m afraid. I guess it was false advertising, but I needed a disguise. If you want to back out of the deal, I’ll understand.”

“No, I definitely want in.”

His voice had such a husky quality, she glanced at him. The hot looks he was sending her between glances at the highway surprised her. She’d caught looks of unbridled lust on men before, but never directed at her. No man had been so lacking in manners as to openly desire Princess Joséphene of Montclaire. It just wasn’t done.