Maia bit down hard on her lower lip. She should have stopped him, slapped him, done anything besides participate. She touched her mouth. It was still burning. She’d definitely participated. Where was her pride? Her outrage? The man was more dangerous to her than she’d realized. With an effort, Maia found her voice again. “You might want to give me the particulars.” She sounded a little husky. “What type of animal, and what’s the injury?”
“A horse. Jase’s favorite horse Celtic High, although he won’t admit it. Unfortunately, there’s a blizzard coming, a bad series of storms that could hang you up for days. I can’t trailer the horse out during the storm, so I’ll need you to come with me now. I can only promise that if it’s at all possible, I’ll have the roads cleared for you to return.”
Maia glanced upward at the rapidly falling snow. “I thought the storm wasn’t supposed to hit for several hours.”
“It’s early. We’ve got to move fast to stay ahead of it.”
“I’ll need my rig. I can follow you out,” Maia said, switching directions, the professional taking over. “I have the drugs and everything I need in the sterile packs. I have to call the service and let them know and get Dr. Stacy to take over while I’m gone. He’s able to work on an emergency basis. If we’re lucky, we’ll beat the storm.”
“I’ll drive. We keep the road to the ranch plowed, but it can get rough in spots,” Cole said, easily keeping pace with her. “And there’s no way to plow during a blizzard. Jase said the bay went through a fence and that it has multiple injuries, gashes down to the bone and splinters of wood embedded in it. He said he thought the horse was suffering and should be put down, but he couldn’t do it.”
“And you want me to save the horse even if it can’t ever be ridden again?” Many ranchers put down a horse that was no longer a working animal.
“Absolutely. Whatever it takes, as long as the horse isn’t suffering,” Cole said. “We’ve got a big ranch. He can live out his days there.”
Maia nodded. “Okay then. And maybe we’ll be lucky, and it won’t be as bad as it looks. Horses can sustain heavy injuries, and if you keep them from getting an infection, can come back quite sound.” She glanced back toward his truck, white from the fall of snow. “I’m used to driving in the snow. You don’t want to leave your truck here.”
“I have plenty of vehicles at the ranch, including a helicopter. And no one’s going to touch my truck.” His gaze met hers squarely.
Maia couldn’t prevent the small shiver that went down her spine. Cole was right. Maia knew most of the townspeople feared him. There was always that dangerous edge to him he couldn’t hide, and he didn’t bother to try. Recognizing there was little use in arguing, she pulled out her cell phone and made the call to her service. The snow fell into her hair and down the neckline of her shirt while she gave the necessary instructions.
As she pushed the small phone back into her pocket, she reached for the driver’s door just as Cole did. Maia pulled her hand back to avoid contact. “My rig,” she said.
“But I’m driving. I know the road, and the storm is coming in far faster than we thought. It’ll be safer with me driving because I know every rut and curve in that road.” Cole swept the snow from her hair, sheltering her with his body from the worst of the flurries. “We don’t have much time. Give me the keys.”
Maia paused, her hand gripping the keys. “Why were you in jail?” She didn’t want it to matter, but it did. She wasn’t about to become another victim because she was too stupid even to ask.
Cole yanked open the door on the driver’s side, swift impatience crossing his face. “Not rape, if that’s what you think. I don’t abuse women.” He slid behind the wheel and slammed the door with unnecessary force.
“Oh, really?” She hurried around the vehicle to slide in beside him, handing him the keys. “All those poor women you take to bed must feel pretty abused when you never call them again.” The moment she closed the door she felt trapped. He was potent up close, intensely male. His shoulders were wide, and his chest thick and well muscled. She could smell the faint scent of his aftershave. And his kiss lingered on her lips.
His gaze dwelt on her face for a long moment as he turned the engine on. Immediately “White Christmas” blared out of the speakers, filling the Toyota Land Cruiser with music. Cole winced and turned it off.
“We need to get one thing straight right now, Maia,” he said. “When I take a woman to bed, she never feels abused. And I detest Christmas music.”
“That’s two things,” she pointed out, furious at herself because she was tantalized by the very thought of going to bed with him. He was far too arrogant and sure of himself for her liking. And he was a bad boy. Trouble. The kind of man a smart woman stayed away from. “And I love Christmas music.”
“You would.”