Cowboy Christmas Read online

  “Tell me about your friend Gabe,” Tori requested. “Have you known each other long?”

  “Since I was fifteen and I went to work at a large cattle ranch in southwest Texas.”

  “Fifteen? When did you lose your mother?” she asked.

  “Three years earlier. When I moved into the bunkhouse on Socorro Ranch, Gabe was there with his uncle who raised him,” Logan elaborated. “His uncle died in a stampede during a storm so Gabe and I became brothers of sorts. We are interchangeable and we take turns being each other’s deputy when we move from one town to the next.”

  Her long lashes swept up and Logan nearly drowned in the sea of her deep green eyes. “When will that be?”

  Logan shrugged casually then bit into his roll. “Whenever the mood strikes us. We’ve been one place and then another for as long as I can remember. The boardinghouse in town where I hang my hat is one of many places we’ve lived.”

  “I’ve always wondered what it’s like to go where the wind takes you,” she murmured as she touched the napkin to the edge of her mouth. “But my father owns and operates a newspaper. My paternal grandfather settled in Fort Worth and my father wasn’t inclined to pull up sticks. Mother is from Boston but she’s entrenched in Fort Worth society now.”

  “What about your sister?”

  Tori smiled fondly. “Cilla is the Chosen One. She was groomed to become the perfect hostess for social engagements. When she married Randolph Spradlin, as our parents requested, my maternal grandfather urged them to move to Boston so Randolph could work his way up management at Grandpapa’s manufacturing firm. Plus, Cilla has Timothy, the heir apparent, to raise. According to Mother’s letter, Cilla divides her time between child rearing and various charities that Grandpapa wants her to support. She has wealth, connections and the perfect life my parents wished for her.”

  “Sounds like a fairy-tale life,” Logan commented. “Maybe you should reconsider and have me shot down in a standoff before you venture to Fort Worth. Maybe the gentleman your parents earmarked for you can provide more luxuries and comforts than a marshal in a town that sits in the shadow of Lone Ridge.”

  Tori scoffed. “This quaint town, nestled in this box canyon, suits me fine, thank you very much. I own my own business and I set my own hours. Perfect is in the eyes of the beholder, after all.” She grinned mischievously. “Besides, I have a capable, reliable husband who has a reputation of handling trouble quickly and effectively. What would I want with a stuffy, hidebound gent who bears my parents’ stamp of approval?”

  Logan leaned toward her. “All teasing aside, Tori. I don’t have refined looks or a blue-blooded pedigree. The last thing I want is to embarrass you in front of your—”

  She reached across the table to press her index finger to his lips to shush him. “You’re perfect,” she insisted. “Follow my lead in conversations and let me teach you a few dance steps to get us through the Christmas soiree and we’ll be fine.”

  Logan folded her hand in his and said, “You’re forgetting one small detail.”

  “I am? What’s that?”

  “In order to behave as if we share the affectionate bond of matrimony we are going to have to appear to be intimately involved. How do you plan to handle that?”

  Tori swallowed hard and silently admitted that she hadn’t factored that into the Christmas equation. She had focused on persuading Logan to agree to her scheme and convince her parents that the marriage was real.

  “I can tell by your expression that you haven’t considered that. I don’t think that will be as easy as minding my manners and learning dance steps.”

  She could feel her face pulsing with embarrassment. “Good Gad, are you suggesting—?”

  He nodded and grinned wickedly. “Yes, I am. We’re going to have to practice touching and kissing…at the very least…if you expect to pull this off convincingly.”

  Well, at least he hadn’t suggested what she thought he meant. The prospect of hopping into bed with him held deliciously wicked appeal, but she was hesitant to surrender to her whims. She hadn’t even kissed very many men in her life—and that was counting pecks on the cheek—so she wouldn’t know how or where to begin being intimate.

  She stared at Logan’s sensuous mouth and wondered if he would savor or devour a woman when he kissed her.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked as he watched her watch him intently.

  Tori’s face went up in flames again. She wormed her hand from his, stared at the buttons on his shirt and said, “You do not want to know.”

  “Yes, I do,” he contradicted. “Tell me.”

  She grabbed her fork and stabbed at her potatoes. “I feel like one of the prisoners you’ve interrogated.”

  “Sorry, prying information is part of my profession.” He continued to stare intently at her. “Tell me.”

  She didn’t meet his gaze. She was too self-conscious. “I was wondering what it would be like to kiss you…Am I going to have to be this honest with you the whole blasted time we’re pretending to be married?”

  When he chuckled, she glanced up to see his dark eyes glistening with amusement. His smile affected every line and feature on his rugged face and Tori felt a corner of her heart cave in. Oh great, she thought. The last thing I want for Christmas is to wind up with a broken heart.

  “How was your meal?” the balding proprietor questioned as he came to stand by the table.

  Tori flinched. She’d been so distracted that she hadn’t noticed Henry. “It was delicious, as always.”

  Henry winked and grinned. “Wait until you taste dessert. The pies we serve are exceptional.”

  “None for me,” Logan remarked. “I ate the pie Tori brought by this morning.”

  She gaped at him, amazed. “The entire pie?”

  “No, I let Gabe have one piece.”

  Tori slumped back in her chair. She wasn’t sure if Logan had a voracious appetite or if he really liked the taste of her pie. She shifted her attention to his empty plate. Not a scrap of food left on it. Must be his hearty appetite, she decided, a mite disappointed.

  A few minutes later, after they exited the restaurant—with all eyes still on them—Tori paused to stare up at Lone Ridge. The full moon beamed on the craggy precipice like a spotlight. The community was nestled against the towering rock walls of the box canyon and it fairly glowed in contrast to the dark of night. Despite the December chill in the air, the prospect of kissing Logan sometime between now and midnight warmed her from inside out. Not to mention that her body tingled with erotic anticipation as he assisted her into the buggy.

  “Miss Thurston?”

  She glanced over her shoulder to see Gabe Horton ambling down the boardwalk.

  “Hello, Deputy. How are you this evening?” She hoped her voice was steady enough to conceal the turmoil roiling inside her.

  “Can’t complain.” He halted by the buggy then tipped his head back to grin at Logan. “When are you going to relieve me?”

  “Don’t know,” Logan mumbled as he shifted awkwardly on the seat. “I have to take dance lessons.”

  Gabe grinned broadly. “Good luck with those two left feet of yours.”

  Oh, dear, thought Tori. Teaching Logan to dance might be more difficult than anticipated.

  Logan narrowed his eyes in warning. “Go make your rounds and stop tormenting me. Is Tanner still whining about not being released for the holidays?”

  Gabe nodded his auburn head. “Yep. If he keeps it up much longer, I’ll be tempted to hit him with a Yuletide log. He’s definitely a pain in the—”

  Logan cleared his throat loudly. “Language, Gabe.”

  “Not to worry,” Tori spoke up. “I have, on more than one occasion, found it necessary to put curses to tongue. I’m not a prude.”

  “The hell you say,” Logan teased devilishly as he snapped the reins over the horse.

  Tori clutched his arm when the animal bolted forward and trotted away. She made up her mind, there and then, she w
as going to get their first kiss over with. She was not spending the evening battling nervous anticipation.

  “Stop the buggy,” she demanded when they zipped past the streetlights to become swallowed up in shadows.

  “Why?” Logan stamped on the brake then turned toward her in concern. “What’s wrong?”

  Before he knew what happened, Tori flung her arms around his neck and kissed him right smack-dab on the mouth. Instinctive need bombarded him and he dropped the reins to clutch her voluptuous body against his. At first touch, his mind went blank. His body caught fire and need scorched him when her lips parted invitingly beneath his.

  Logan told himself to be gentle because he could tell right off that Tori wasn’t very experienced with men. But damn, he’d been without a woman for months and lust was running roughshod over him. Yet, Tori was an endearing novelty to him and he’d shoot himself before he frightened or alarmed her with impatient ardor.

  The instant before he got carried away completely and devoured her like a famished fiend, he reared back to gauge her reaction to his kiss. She stared owlishly at him for a long moment. Then her fingertips skimmed over her mouth, as if analyzing their first kiss.

  It nearly drove him crazy when she licked her lips in that naturally seductive way she had about her.

  “Well…” she said unevenly, still gaping at him.

  Logan didn’t know if that was good or bad. “Well what?”

  She suddenly came to her senses, scooted away then stared straight ahead. “Now that we have that settled and out of the way we can concentrate on dancing.”

  “Maybe you can,” he mumbled under his breath. That quick taste of her made him want more, not less.

  “Pardon?”

  “Dancing. Right. Can’t wait.”

  He drove off before he succumbed to the urge to toss aside the reins and reach for the green-eyed siren instead. Logan was pretty sure the holiday arrangement he’d made with Tori was going to be pure torment.

  So much for the peace and serenity of the Christmas season, he thought sourly. Playing the role of Victoria Thurston’s husband was guaranteed to test his willpower and resistance to its very limits.

  Logan wasn’t at all sure he could handle the pressure.

  “Now then,” Tori said as she scooted aside the chair and the rug in her living room. “The waltz is nothing more than one long step followed by two short ones. You can move any direction you please with the first step. Ready?”

  She slipped into his arms and showed him where to place his hands. But the way he kept staring at her with those dark, smoldering eyes played hell with her pulse.

  “Step, step, close. One, two, three. One, two, three—”

  Her voice evaporated when he angled his head toward hers and narrowed the space until his powerfully built body brushed against hers. Tori went weak in the knees.

  “We have a problem,” Logan murmured huskily.

  “We do?” she bleated.

  He nodded and his lips hovered a hairbreadth from hers. She wanted him to kiss her so badly she could already taste him. She well remembered the feel of his sensuous lips moving expertly over hers and she savored the arousing feel of his masculine contours gliding provocatively against her.

  “I’m going to have to kiss you again.” He skimmed his lips over her mouth and her legs wobbled. “That first kiss came as too much of a surprise. I wasn’t at my best. I can do better.”

  She almost smiled at that remark. She didn’t want to have to tell him that if he was more devastating the second time than he was the first, he might reduce her to a pile of smoldering ashes. Logan Daniels left her hot and bothered, no doubt about that. He was beyond all previous experience and she reacted to him in shocking ways that obliterated her self-restraint as nothing else ever had.

  Sure enough, the instant his lips settled on hers, burning sensations sizzled through her body. Her heart hammered against her ribs, making it difficult to breathe. She inhaled him, clung to him because she wasn’t sure she could stand on her own feet if he suddenly released his grasp on her.

  Sweet mercy! Is this what reckless desire felt like? Tori hadn’t experienced it before. Mild attraction? Yes. Wild, breathless lust? No, definitely not.

  When he deepened the kiss and lifted her off the floor to compensate for the difference in their height she gave herself up to the compelling hunger he aroused in her. She kissed him for all she was worth, until she had to come up for air.

  “One, two, three,” she murmured in rhythm, desperately trying to concentrate on waltzing. “Slow…quick, quick—”

  Logan groaned as he clutched her closer. His lips skimmed her flushed cheek and his hand splayed over her derriere to caress her familiarly.

  Tori had no idea what possessed her to hook her legs around his lean hips or why he settled her intimately against him. The maddening sensations prompted her to kiss him ardently. When she felt the hard bulge in his breeches pressing suggestively against her, need intensified immediately. She told herself that she should be alarmed because things between them were moving too fast and she was having one devil of a time controlling the wild sensations spilling through her.

  Unfortunately Logan’s thought-provoking comment about becoming more familiar with each other in an effort to convince her parents the marriage was legitimate kept buzzing in her brain.

  Confound it, for over a year she’d wondered what it would be like to kiss him. And poof! She’d kissed him in the buggy and again in her living room. Now she was wondering what it would be like to be naked with him, to skim her hands over his brawny male body which was, at this very moment, gliding suggestively against her.

  “Damn, I never dreamed I’d like dancing so much,” Logan whispered against her lips.

  “This isn’t exactly how it’s done in the ballrooms of high society.” She arched shamelessly against him. A strange sense of satisfaction coursed through her when Logan moaned, clutched her tightly against him and ran both hands over her hips. “West Texas style waltzing, however, is beginning to hold tremendous appeal for me.”

  “You ought to be against the law,” Logan murmured before he delivered a lip-blistering kiss that left her head spinning like a windmill. He set her away from him abruptly. “I better go before—” He clamped his mouth shut.

  “Before what?” she asked as she rearranged her twisted yellow gown.

  He sent her a squint-eyed stare. “Let me be blunt, pretend wife of mine. Unless you want to find yourself flat on your back and naked beneath me…Or above me…Or beside me…I don’t care which. I had better leave. Now. This wasn’t part of our arrangement.”

  She stared into his bronzed face and blushed a dozen shades of red while the vivid picture he painted with words exploded in her mind.

  “Yes, you should definitely leave,” she said shakily.

  If he didn’t leave, she might ask him to stay to teach her something that had nothing whatsoever to do with dancing.

  “I don’t think we should see each other tomorrow,” he said in a clipped tone. “The day after, I’ll pick you up in the wagon at seven o’clock and we’ll ride off to catch a stagecoach in Shallow Springs that will deliver us to the train depot in Purple Sage Hollow.”

  Tori bobbed her head agreeably then noticed that her carefully arranged coiffure had somehow come unwound—much as she had—while they were kissing each other as if there was no tomorrow.

  “Good night then.” He whirled on his boot heels and strode toward the door.

  “See you day after tomorrow,” she called as he disappeared into the shadows. “And thank you for supper!”

  Tori collapsed on the displaced chair to fan her heated face. “Convincing my family of the attraction for Logan isn’t going to be a problem.”

  If she became more aware and aroused by him, she was fairly certain she would burst into flames and set the house on fire.

  Logan stalked toward the jail cells, ready to bite off Tanner’s head for whining and complainin
g about his cold meal and meager accommodations.

  Tanner studied Logan’s menacing snarl. “What’s a-matter with you? You don’t seem to be in the holiday spirit.”

  “Just clam up,” Logan snapped before he slammed the door—good and hard.

  “My, we’re in a sour mood, aren’t we?” Gabe taunted as he leaned a hip on the edge of the desk.

  “Speak for yourself. I’m the picture of good tidings and holiday cheer,” Logan grumbled sarcastically.

  “Ha.” Gabe smirked.

  Logan rounded on his grinning friend. “You have to act in my stead.” He spun about, unaware that he’d taken up Tori’s nervous habit of pacing from wall to wall. “You’re going to be me for the holidays, Gabe. I’ll stay here and keep a lid on this town.”

  The expression on Logan’s face must have drawn Gabe’s concern because he studied him closely. Too closely. “What happened tonight? Spread around too much Christmas cheer, did you?”

  Logan had never been one to kiss and tell and he wasn’t changing tack now. “All you need to know is that you’re taking Tori to Fort Worth instead of me.”

  Gabe crossed his arms over his chest and grinned wryly. “Can’t handle her, is that it? Or don’t trust yourself?”

  Logan and Gabe had been friends through thick and thicker but this was the first time Logan itched to knock that teasing grin off his face. “Are you going to do me this favor or not?”

  “Not,” Gabe said. “You agreed to this. Plus, she picked you specifically. That means something. All you have to do is figure out what.” He smiled playfully as he swaggered toward the door. “In case I forget to tell you before you leave town, Merry Christmas, Logan. Ho, ho, ho.”

  Scowling, Logan stormed across the office then down the street to the boardinghouse. The moment he closed the door and stood there in silence, every erotic sensation Tori had stirred in him returned in full force.

  Gabe was right on the mark. Logan made the humiliating discovery this evening that he couldn’t trust himself alone with Tori. Trying to restrain himself while she was underfoot was going to become the worst Christmas holiday on record.