He pulled her gently toward him. "I never thought I'd see the day when Gracie Donnelly would be scared to dance with a lonesome cowboy."
The hint of a smile tugged at her lips. "You haven't got a lonesome bone in your body, Trent McKenzie. And I'm not scared. I'm selective."
A lopsided smirk was all the response she got. The man had a nerve to dare her to do anything. After the way he'd been cavorting with girlfriends one through four it was a wonder he could string two words together let alone move his body to the beat of another dance.
He tugged her hands.
"Fine. One dance and that's all." She set her jaw in a stubborn line, getting ready to be plastered from hip to cheek against his body. He wasted no time hauling her close. From the moment they hit the dance floor, Trent pressed her firmly against his body, wrapping Gracie in a warm cocoon of heat. Relaxing against his chest, she struggled to remember exactly why she didn't want to dance with him.
Tonight had left her nerves raw and her heart pulverized. Watching Trent socialize with his four candidates shouldn't have bothered her half as much as it did. Dreaming up the barn dance had to have been one of the craziest things she'd ever done. She'd even called the women, for cripes' sake, to make sure they'd be here to stroke Trent's ego in the hopes of becoming the next Mrs. McKenzie.
She'd never come to Montana with the thought of falling for a stubborn cowboy. She'd come to Montana to find her father. But here she was, battle weary and heartsore, still trying to work out where she'd gone wrong.
When the music stopped, Trent held her hand and led her toward the doors. "Come on. I'll walk you back to the house."
"I'll be fine." Taking a deep breath, she moved outside. Gracie needed some distance between their bodies. She'd been lost in the touch and smell of a certain cowboy taking her on a two person joy ride in the middle of the barn.
The crisp night air stung her hot skin, focusing her brain. She stood her ground, unwilling to share more of the evening with Trent. "You stay with your guests and I'll see you in the morning."
"No arguments, let's go." Shrugging out of his jacket, he draped it gently around her shoulders, drawing the front panels close so that she was surrounded by his warmth.
"What's this for?" She looked down at the jacket, feeling the silky softness of well-worn denim brush her bare skin.
"It's cold out. A girl could get a mighty fine chill in the dress you've got on."
The dress in question had caused quite a stir. More than one set of eyes had passed a slow glance down her body, and more than once she'd wished the skirt had been a little longer. Gracie pulled the jacket close and moved across the gravel yard beside Trent. Music followed them on the still night air, interrupted by bursts of laughter from the guests still partying in the barn.
As they reached the front door, Gracie handed his jacket back to him. "Thanks for the loan. I'll see you in the morning."
"Not so fast, honey."
Gracie frowned when he followed her into the house. "If you want to talk about your four women, it will have to wait until the morning. I'm really not in the mood to dissect their good and bad points."
He hung his jacket on the clothes hook in the entrance, the corners of his mouth turning up at the frown on her face. "This doesn't have anything to do with the four names on the list."
Gracie could feel her patience wearing thin. Standing in the middle of his entrance hall on a Saturday night wasn't the best time to talk in riddles. Especially to a girl who felt like she'd just given away the major prize in a raffle without knowing how.
He moved in close, holding her hands in his. "Honey, I've wanted to kiss you all night. If this isn't something you want then you'd better stop me now."
Gazing up at him, she prayed he couldn't feel the beat of her pulse throbbing through her veins. Or hear the rush of her breath as she struggled to ignore the hands wrapped around hers. This was so not right, so much of everything that couldn't happen. "What about the four women on your list?"
"There's only one I'm interested in and she's standing right in front of me."
Raising her hand, Gracie rubbed her finger along the dimple in Trent's chin. She couldn't quite understand how they'd gone from goodnight, to let's make out, but to a woman on the edge of a meltdown his offer sounded pretty good.
She moved the tip of her finger from Trent's face to his chest, smiling at his soft groan. Excitement raced through Gracie's body. "I don't know what's going on between us, but kissing you is probably about the dumbest thing I could do right now." Her hand rested lightly on his shirt. The beat of his heart pounded beneath her palm.
Bending down, he captured her lips with his mouth. She didn't stand a chance against a kiss that sent a wave of longing straight through her body. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she pushed against his mouth, sliding her tongue along his, matching him stroke for stroke.
Trent pulled her up into his arms, holding her between the wall and his body. She melted against him, clutching his shoulders as his hips teased every last scrap of sense away. Just when she thought she couldn't stand a minute more of the sweet torture overwhelming her body, he pulled back, gasping for air.
Resting his chin on the top of her head, he gently kissed her brow, then slid her to the ground. "I've got to get back to the barn. We can talk in the morning."
"What?" Gracie stared at him. He couldn't have said what she thought he had.
"I'm going back to the barn."
"Now?"
He took a step back, the frown on his face telling her he didn't have a clue why she was upset.
"You can't kiss a girl senseless for the second time and then just leave," she spluttered. "What do you think I am? A McDonald's checkout for sex-starved males?" Her temper spiraled almost as high as her hormones. "I never took you for a tease 'em and leave 'em kind of man, but I guess desperation can bring out the worst in people." Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she glared with all her might, wishing she'd never locked lips with Trent McKenzie.
His mouth dropped open and a hot flash of heat scorched his face. "What did you want?" He stepped forward, glaring at her as if this was all her fault. "Did you want to finish what we started when there's a barn full of people outside? Did you want to keep kissing until neither of us had any brain power left between our ears?"
"It would have helped if one of us had more intelligence between their ears before we started," she yelled.
His eyes turned pitch black. She didn't like the predatory gleam sending danger signals along her body. "There's nothing intelligent about this?"
He lifted her off the floor, hauling her against his body. His mouth devoured Gracie in a kiss that made every bone in her body dissolve. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she pulled him tight, gasping as he pushed against her body. Her dress felt too tight, too hot against her skin.
As her fingers ran through his hair, an image of Jo-Jo Allen fiddling with the same head of hair flashed through her brain. Gracie wouldn't be a convenient body for anyone. Her fingers tightened, yanking his head off her face. Sucking great lungfuls of air into her oxygen-starved body she scowled at him. "Go back to the barn. There are other women in there that might be more receptive to your needs." Gracie swore she could see lightning streak out his furious eyes.
"It might help if you let go of my hair and unhooked your legs."
Gracie's hands dropped to her sides and her feet dangled in midair before he let go of her bottom. A different kind of heat scorched her body. Embarrassment.
Without a backward glance, Trent stormed out the front door, slamming it shut on its hinges.
Gracie stared at where he'd been standing. Her legs wobbled so much she didn't think she'd be able to make it up the stairs in one piece. Trent McKenzie must have earned an honors degree in kissing. Her lips felt swollen and tingly. So deliciously used that she had to stop herself from imagining what else those lips could do to a woman. She slid down the wall before her legs buck
led beneath her.
So much for sorting out her life. She'd just managed to make a complete fool of herself, twisting her life into so many knots that she doubted she'd ever be able to unravel the mess.
CHAPTER SIX
Gracie thought she'd be awake for ages after being kissed senseless. But she'd been so exhausted she'd fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep until the first rays of sunshine streamed through her bedroom window. Like a bucket of ice-cold water hitting her in the face, she realized she'd had a lucky escape last night. Trent might have sent her hormones to heaven, but locking lips with him wasn't going to solve either of their problems.
She groaned as she checked the time. If she didn't make a move soon, Karen would be here to start the monster clean-up. The worst thing that could happen would be for Trent's mom to see her running around the house in her nightshirt.
Pulling herself out of bed, she threw on the first clothes she spotted and headed for the stairs. Halfway across the living room she smelled fresh coffee with a hint of toast thrown in. Either Karen had arrived early or Trent was already awake. She hoped like crazy she'd find Karen in the kitchen and not her kissing buddy from last night.
"Morning, Gracie."
She stopped in the doorway, her breath catching in her throat. Trent. "Morning," she mumbled. Her brain went into shut-down mode as she stared at the morning stubble shadowing his jaw. And nothing could have prepared her for the lips that were smiling in her direction. Remembering just how skilled that mouth had been sent a rush of heat to her face.
"Do you want me to put some toast down for you?"
"Hmm?" She wasn't paying attention. Her mind had wandered away from the kitchen and into the foyer.
"Toast. Do you want some?"
Nodding her head, she headed for the fridge. A glass of orange juice would unfuzz her brain quicker than a cold shower. And she needed both, real bad.
Trent pushed some bread into the toaster. "We need to talk. I've made my mind up about which woman I want to marry."
The bottle of juice in her hands thumped against the counter. She needed to sit down. Going from lustful images about an available male, to lustful images about a man intended for some other woman's arms made her feel woozy.
She rubbed the back of her neck and took a few deep breaths. Wondering which of the four women had caught Trent's eye was giving her a headache. It had to be Jo-Jo. She'd circled him all night, like a shark sensing fresh blood. Gracie had crossed her off the list as soon as she'd seen her long legs and other defining assets. Far too shallow for her liking, but maybe Trent liked shallow?
The only other woman she'd considered had been Mary-Beth. Although she also had long legs and a full chest, Mary-Beth seemed like a really nice person. Maybe too nice for a rat-bag on the prowl for a wife.
The more she thought about Trent's problem, the angrier she got. It was beyond her how he could even contemplate marrying someone he didn't love. Plenty of people never got married, never had children. He wanted a wife for all the wrong reasons and keeping his land away from Jordan had to be the dumbest one of the lot.
The man didn't deserve a nice girl like Mary-Beth or locking lips with someone like Gracie. He deserved to spend the rest of his days with a vulture like Jo-Jo. They could live the rest of their days auditing their bank accounts and breeding more prize-winning cattle.
If she was angry with Trent, she was even angrier with herself. Helping him find the answer to his dreams had seemed like fun at the time, but now it seemed plain dumb.
Grabbing a glass from the pantry, she tipped juice into it, managing to slosh orange all over the counter. Glaring at Trent, she grabbed a dishcloth from the sink and waited for his final verdict. She didn't really care who he chose to marry. It was his decision and he had to live with it. "Let me know when you want me to move into Bozeman. I'll stay in a hotel until Gerald gets back."
He stopped buttering his toast. Guarded gray eyes studied the scowl on her face. "I want to marry you."
Gracie froze. "What?" Her hand landed in the puddle of juice.
"I want to marry you."
Heart pounding, she waited for him to laugh at his joke. He just leaned against the counter, butter knife in hand, looking for all the world like a man enjoying a normal early morning conversation.
Her brain felt thick and heavy, like it was wading through quicksand. "But I wasn't on the list." The more she tried to make sense of what he'd said, the less sense it made. "You can't marry me. I'm not getting married."
"Of course I can marry you. It's a perfect solution."
"Who for? It's not perfect for me at all. I didn't come here to find a husband. I came here to find my father. Find where I belong."
His knife clattered against the counter. He glared at her like she was a demented fool. "Why do you need to find yourself? You're standing right here in my kitchen and I've just asked you to marry me."
Gracie's toast popped with an almighty bang. She picked it up off the counter, swiping a thick knife of butter across the top. She didn't care about fat content and calories. She needed comfort. And if the only comfort she could find was with a thick inch of butter, then that was good enough for her.
Biting into the toast, she chewed like her life depended on it. "I'm not going to marry you, so you might as well forget you ever asked me. Go for number two." With a growl she added, "I'm sure you're keeping your options open."
"What's gotten into you woman? Last night you were all over me like a good dose of poison ivy. Now you're acting like you can't even stand the sight of me. What's changed in the last few hours that I don't know about?"
"Me. That's what's changed. Last night was a mistake. It should never have happened. It's not going to happen again. My father abandoned me because he didn't love me. I flat out refuse to be part of any relationship, let alone marriage, not being loved for the person I am." Gracie threw the rest of her toast in the bin. "I will not be a convenient baby incubator to a man with half a brain. I've got a great life back in New Zealand. I don't need to marry someone like you." She stormed out the kitchen, heading for the front door.
"Come back here, Gracie." Trent bellowed. "We haven't finished discussing this."
"Yes we have," she yelled from the porch, heading at top speed toward the barn.
***
Trent shoved his hands through his hair, trying to figure out what had just happened. What a mess. He'd just blown any chance of ever convincing Gracie they were perfect for each other. He wanted a wife, someone he could enjoy living with. He wanted children. He wasn't looking for love or any of the frilly extras that made a man forget what was important in life. And his land was the most important thing to him.
"What's going on in here?" Jordan stood in the doorway with his arms crossed and a no-nonsense look on his face. "I could hear you yelling from my truck. Where's Gracie?"
"She headed across to the barn." Trent pushed off from the edge of the counter and walked toward the deck.
"I don't know what you're hoping to achieve by bullying her, but it's going to stop right now." Jordan followed him outside. "If you can't at least treat her with respect, she can pack her bags and I'll take her to mom's house. At least she'll be safe from whatever hornet's buzzing in that brain of yours."
"Butt out of something you don't understand." Trent braced his hands against the railing. "I'm not bullying Gracie. We had a difference of opinion."
"You could have fooled me."
Trent looked at the mountains, gripping the wooden railing tighter. "I asked her to marry me."
Jordan frowned. "You need to work on your approach. You're in serious trouble if that's the reaction you get from the woman you love."
"It wasn't that kind of marriage."
"What do you mean? How many kinds of marriage are there?"
Trent let go of the railing and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I want a family. I want children that will inherit the ranch. I like her, and I know she likes me." A
t least he thought she did. A woman who kissed a man until he forgot about where he was must feel something for him.
"You like her? No wonder she took off." Jordan looked toward the mountains, then back at his brother. "Do you love her?"
Trent stuck his hands in his pockets. "Of course I don't love her. Fifteen years ago I thought I was in love and look what that got me; a whole pile of emotional blackmail that twisted my mind in twenty different directions. I loved a woman who thought her life was over if she couldn't get cell phone coverage from every damn place on the ranch."
"Gracie's not like that."
"Yeah. She wants wooing. She wants roses, chocolates, and candlelit dinners."
"It's called love, Trent, not some phony excuse to stand in front of a priest and sign her life away."
"Tell that to the thousands of couples who get divorced every year."
"Forget the marriages that don't work," Jordan growled.
"Easy for you to say when you've never been there."
"I'd say Gracie had a lucky escape if having children is the only reason you asked her to marry you. If mom knew what you were up to she'd be ashamed." Jordan headed inside, slamming the front door on his way out.
Trent stared across at the barn. Acid churned in his stomach. He didn't want to think about his mom or his dad. They'd had a great marriage. If he could have found someone that loved him as much as his parents had loved each other, then he wouldn't be standing outside feeling like a jerk. He may not love Gracie, but he did like her. A lot. Too much. Hell, even he didn't know how he felt about her. But he did know that she was the perfect choice for him. Gracie wanted love, commitment, a future. She wanted to find her father. He wanted children. He wanted to pass the ranch on to family that cared about the land as much as he did.
Maybe they could both get what they wanted. He might grow to love her. Maybe, over time, the toe curling lust that spiraled deep in his gut whenever he got close to her would turn into something more. And marriage would give her more time to find her father. She could search every state in the country and never have to worry about visas or work permits again.
He leaned against the wooden railing, staring off into the distance. If Gracie wanted wooing, then that's what she'd get. He could woo a woman senseless if he put his mind to it. He wanted Gracie in his life, and he planned on doing everything he could to make sure that's what she wanted too.