The Cowboy And The Debutante by Stella Bagwell Page B

Anna intruding into his thoughts. Hell, tonight he hadn’t even been able to stay in his own house. Something had drawn him back down here to the ranch house and her.
    â€œNo. I thought you might need help doctoring your hands.” He knew it was a lame excuse for being here, but thankfully Anna didn’t seem to notice.
    She studied his face as he walked toward her. “I’m surprised you thought of my hands. You were pretty angry at me earlier.”
    Miguel couldn’t help but notice she’d changed her dirty work-clothes for a printed gauze skirt and sleeveless sweater. Her long hair was collected with a huge barrette atop her head. The flame-colored curls spilled against her neck and brushed her delicate collarbones.
    When he reached her, he couldn’t stop his hands from closing around the mane of hair, tangling his fingers in the silken web of waves.
    â€œI was angry,” he admitted in a husky voice. “But that doesn’t mean I want your hands to be neglected.”
    Even though Miguel had kissed her several times, on those occasions he’d always touched her out of provocation. Never had he reached out to her with such slow, deliberate intimacy as he was now. The feel of his fingers in her hair was flooding every inch of Anna’s body with heat, stealing her breath and sending her heart into a mad gallop.
    â€œI...uh, put some bandages on them after I got out of the shower,” she murmured.
    He eased down beside her on the piano bench and was suddenly consumed by the sweet scent of gardenia on her skin, the slight tremble of her lips as she met his gaze.
    â€œActually, I was already here before I thought of your bandages,” he admitted. Then with a wry twist on his lips, he lifted one of her hands and opened the palm to his gaze. “I mainly come down to...tell you I shouldn’t have gotten so bent out of shape when I saw you on that horse. I was wrong to assume you didn’t know how to handle him.”
    Never in her wildest imaginings would Anna have ever dreamed of getting any sort of apology from this hard man. Much less one that seemed so genuinely sincere. And for once she didn’t know what to think or say.
    â€œFor all you knew I’d never been on a racehorse before,” she said, trying to meet him halfway. “And I do understand, that, as foreman of this ranch, you feel responsible.”
    Suddenly he chuckled softly, and Anna was shocked at how much she adored the sound of pleasure coming from his throat.
    â€œAfter Roy left and I went home, I decided I was finally going to have to admit you are capable of doing more than play the piano.” He shook his head, and the expression on his face went suddenly grave. “But riding racehorses is very dangerous. I hope you realize just how dangerous.”
    Her gaze searched his face for long moments, and her heart surged as she realized he was actually concerned for her safety and not just his job. The knowledge had her looking at him in a whole different light. “Believe me, Miguel. I do know the dangers. I have a friend who’s confined to a wheelchair because he fell on the track. It’s not a job I take lightly. But for the next few weeks it is my job and I plan to do it as best and as safely as I can.”
    He had to be satisfied with that. He had no right to say more. He was not Anna’s husband, lover or even her friend. And even if he was, she was not the sort of woman to bend to a man’s demands. And a part of Miguel admired her independence. The other part of him hated it For more than a year he had tried to deal with Charlene’s independence, and in the end he’d come to the realization that she would never really need him.
    â€œThen I’ll try to keep my mouth shut,” he said.
    Her eyes drifted to his lips, and like the ebb of the ocean, longing flooded through her, momentarily robbing her of breath. Of all the men she’d ever