The Cowboy of Valentine Valley By Emma Cane
DEDICATION
To my editor, Amanda Bergeron, whose vision
and guidance for the Valentine Valley series is
always an inspiration. Thanks for everything.
* * *
“What else do you think of when you think of small towns?”
And then, without planning it, she whispered, “Kissing in pickup trucks.”
His smile faded and was replaced by a tension that made her shiver. When he leaned forward, she put up a hand.
With a husky laugh, she said, “I didn’t say who was kissing whom.”
He froze, then tried to appear casual as he leaned back again.
She unbuckled the seat belt and pulled her legs beneath her to face him on the bench. Slowly she leaned forward, bracing her hands on the leather, watching his eyes dip to her breasts, where her blouse gaped away to reveal the valley between. She was a woman who knew men, who knew how to make them desire her and ensure that they didn’t regret it.
* * *
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My thanks to Jim Callen IV and Melissa Swenton for kindly answering all my research questions. Any mistakes are, as always, mine. And to the Packeteers and the Purples for being available for last-minute plotting sessions.
Chapter One
Whitney Winslow sat on the patio of The Adelaide Bed and Breakfast, trying to get her thoughts in order—trying to avoid the thrill of excitement deep in the pit of her stomach as she awaited the arrival of Josh Thalberg, Colorado cowboy and designer of some of the most exquisite leatherwork she’d ever seen. The August air was scented with columbines, warm without being too hot, as it often was in the mountains surrounding Valentine Valley. The fountain gurgled nearby, a fish jumped in the pond, but none of it relaxed Whitney as she nervously touched her hair and tugged on her pencil skirt. She’d dressed for a business meeting, so Josh would understand their professional relationship, though she’d been the one to make it all personal eight months ago, right in this very B&B.
Then it was too late for regrets. Josh emerged from the garden path, tall and lanky, and she couldn’t stop herself from drinking everything in, from his cowboy boots, up his faded jeans, to the Western plaid shirt that covered broad shoulders. He had a worn backpack hanging from one shoulder and held his Stetson against his thigh, leaving his dark brown hair tousled appealingly. The faint shadow of a couple days’ growth of beard didn’t hide the curved scar on his chin, evidence of the sometimes dangerous work he did on the Silver Creek Ranch. He had a straight, perfect nose, and the cheekbones any male model would envy. But his eyes captured her the most, hazel and changeable as swirling mist but full of warmth and amusement—and, surprisingly, interest, as they swept over her body in return.
A thrill of heat followed wherever his gaze touched. Who’d known she would feel like this? She’d always thought a man was sexiest in an expensive tailored suit, but ever since she’d first arrived in Valentine Valley, worn jeans and broken-in cowboy boots were doing it for her.
Josh arched a dark brow, a hint of the devil in his smile. “Nice to see you again, Whitney.”
His deep drawl still gave her the shivers.
She stood up. “You, too, Josh,” she said, proud that her voice didn’t betray her nerves.
She was never nervous! Why did he make her feel this way?
His eyes grew almost smoky as he studied her. Tension shimmered between them, promising possibilities that she didn’t want to face. It had been a long time since her own behavior had embarrassed her, but now it was hard to forget what a fool she’d made of herself.
His expression full of interest and speculation, he said, “You’ve been gone a long time.”
She shrugged. “Business and family. You know how it is.”
Well, the family part wasn’t really true. Her parents had wanted to spend Christmas in Rio, so Whitney, her brother Chasz, and his wife Courtney had joined them, but only for a week. Then Whitney had gone back to work. She loved her growing stores, her line of lingerie known just by her first name. She was usually so focused on making herself a success—but to her dismay, Josh hadn’t been far from her thoughts.
“So I wasn’t the one who drove you away?” he asked.
She quickly shook her head. “I wanted to give Valentine Valley time to get used to the idea of my store.” She’d been letting things die down after the protests that had split the little mountain town over whether Leather and Lace, her upscale lingerie store, could be classified as pornography and banned from opening. She’d persuaded the town council to her side, but she hadn’t done it alone. The Thalbergs and their friends had rallied around her. Josh, beloved local son, had agreed to do some leather tooling for her, which had probably gotten her even more sympathy and maybe carried the day. She’d almost ruined their business relationship before it began. “And as for you driving me away? My own behavior was at fault, not you. I got a little drunk and pushy—”
“You weren’t pushy,” he interrupted, wearing that easy grin that did things to her insides. “You were sexy as all hell.”
“But I was drunk, and you were gracious when you turned me down.” The first man to ever refuse her offer of intimacy. “I appreciate it.”
“It took all of my restraint,” he said in a low voice.
She gave a heavy swallow, followed by a false smile. “Now you’re just teasing me. Let’s forget about it, okay?”
“Forget? No. Ignore? Okay. For a while, maybe.”
“No maybes. Let’s concentrate on work.”
Work, the story of her life. She thought about the men she’d dated, who, just like her, were interested in nothing but an occasional dinner together, followed by a private evening of fun. No expectations, no commitments. It suited everyone involved. But there was something about Josh and this small town that made her think that kind of anonymous pleasure wasn’t possible. Another reason not to like Valentine Valley.
“Have a seat.” She sat down, gesturing to the wrought-iron chair across the little table from her. “You said you’d have some sketches of the leather collar necklaces for me when I returned?”
He frowned at her as he sank into the chair. “I thought we were going to discuss what you had in mind for the designs, then I’d draw some up. Did I get that wrong?”
“It doesn’t matter now,” she said, regretting the miscommunication. “We’ll just move forward.”
“I did bring some leather samples.”
He pulled the backpack off his shoulder and unzipped it. He brought out several strips of leather, different thicknesses, colors, textures, then laid them across the table so she could see them better, all the while talking about vegetable tanning to get the right tooling leather. His explanations were hard to follow when all she could think about was that this leather would be used alongside her lingerie. It was erotic and stimulating, and she began to perspire. He asked something, and she almost jumped.
“Pardon me?”
His smile was far too knowing. “I asked if these samples would be okay.”
“Yes, of course. Whatever you think would work best.”
“Well, you know your clients and their tastes.”
She swallowed heavily. “I do.”
“When do you plan to open the store?”
“I’ll be consulting with the architects who put in renovation bids in the next week or two before negotiating the contract for the building.” As an aside, she added, “You do know the space used to belong to a funeral home? I think I need to make it drastically different, so people forget.”
He nodded, one side of his mouth still curled with amusement—at what she was saying? Or how she was behaving? She didn’t know.
With mock seriousness, he said, “You know, we country folk don’t all believe in ghosts.”
“Your grandmother’s friend, Mrs. Palmer, reads tarot cards,” Whitney pointed out. “Surely she does.”
“I never asked her.”
She must be stoking his amusement, so she cleared her throat and made an effort to slow down her speech. “I don’t have a date in mind yet, but a Grand Opening just before the holidays would be ideal. If I approve the designs, can you have stock for me by then?”
“I’m not worried about you approving the designs.”
“Confident, aren’t you?”
He grinned. “I am. You chose me for a reason.”
Now that could be taken several ways.
“But as for the amount of goods I can provide, I’ll do what I can.” For the first time, his expression turned serious. “This isn’t my major business, and I never meant it to be. I hope you can be patient while I figure out how to work everything in, decide what my focus should be.”
“Surely your family can help you out on the ranch.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head. “It’s not as if they’re sitting around watching me work.”
“I remember your telling me you hired Adam Desantis, your sister’s boyfriend, to help prepare leather. Is that going well?”
“He learns fast. And yes, he’s been a great asset. But the tooling itself takes up the most of my time. Don’t worry; I’ve agreed to do work for you, and I’ll make it happen.”
Josh had thought things would be awkward between them, and he’d been proven right. She looked ready to bolt, hands on the dainty table to push herself to her feet. She seemed to regret that her advances had altered things between them, as if she thought he didn’t want her. Nothing could be further from the truth. He hadn’t been able to forget about her as the months had dragged by, dwelling on the confident sexiness of her kiss, the press of her body against his, the way she excited him as no other woman ever had. It was like he’d come alive to the unimagined possibilities of sensuality. She was all understated sophistication and moved with an easy elegance that seemed feminine and bold at the same time if such a thing were possible.
As for turning her down? It had been the right thing to do. He was determined to have her without alcohol clouding their relationship.
But being back at the same B&B where they’d kissed? It both aroused and frustrated him because it was very obvious she was no longer in a romantic mood.
“So did you go home these last few months?” he asked. “And where is home?”
He watched her try to decide how to answer him about her private life, what he deserved to know, and knew he was intruding; but he’d never felt so curious before.
“I spent some of my childhood in San Francisco, some in Manhattan, the main headquarters of my father’s company, Winslow Enterprises,” she said slowly, as if reluctant. “My parents liked to travel, so we were never in one place for long.”
He was surprised how fascinated he was by her background, when her looks were enough to make him tongue-tied. She was on the tall side, with a model’s slimness, but with the important curves she’d pressed against his body. He tried to shake off the memory. “That must have been difficult, new schools and all.”
“I went to boarding school, so that never changed.”
He frowned. “You lived away from your family?”
“Just like Harry Potter but without the magic,” she said with a touch of mild sarcasm.
“So your family is wealthy.”
She nodded without elaborating. That explained why she chose such classy clothes, which looked like they’d been made just for her, all expensive fabrics and subtle sophistication. He liked her hair, too, shiny black but cut in layers about her face and to her shoulders. Every time she moved, it swung and flowed with her, settling back into place to perfectly frame her delicate features and wide gray eyes. Her mouth spoiled the spare lines of her bone structure with a ripe fullness he’d tasted and hadn’t been able to forget.
“So with all that traveling, your parents didn’t sell your house,” he said, wanting to listen to her talk.
She shook her head. “My parents have several homes.”
“Around the world, I take it. Valentine must seem pretty small to you.”
“I’ve been in many small towns, and they always have their own charm.”
“Tactful response. So you set your first store in San Francisco because you knew it well.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “But why lingerie?”
“Why not?”
She smiled again, and he knew that wasn’t the whole story, and she wasn’t about to enlighten him.
“I thought maybe you stayed away from Valentine because of your other stores.”
“Only partly. I have good managers and a great personal assistant. In fact, I plan to have things so well run someday that I can oversee everything from Europe, where I’d like to work on establishing new stores.”
He appreciated her ambition even though a small part of him was… disappointed in her traveling plans. “I’ve never been to Europe, but I hear the snowboarding is incredible. I’ve explored a lot of famous Western resorts out here. My friends and I take a ski vacation every year. Next February, we might try Tahoe. Sounds like your kind of place. Will I see you there?”
She chuckled. “Now you’ve warned me off. You don’t like to travel besides the snowboarding trips?”
“I’m too busy, and I have everything I need right here.” She was relaxing with him, and that was better than the charged awkwardness when he’d first arrived. “So I hear I’ll see you tomorrow night at the Widows’ Boardinghouse. Grandma says she invited you. You’ll come?”
She nodded.
“Then it’s a date.” He slapped his hands on his knees as he rose to his feet.
“It’s not a date,” she answered dryly. “But before you go, let’s finalize the design ideas for your sketches.”
She looked at him with that direct, confident gaze of hers. She thought she had everything under control, but he didn’t see it that way. He hadn’t been able to forget her these last few months, and by her very resistance, he suspected she felt the same. He could be patient. He sat back down.
After all, if he could be patient after their first kiss, when he’d been so turned on he could think of nothing but her body beneath him, then he could do anything.
They spent another half hour discussing floral designs versus geometric, subtle versus bold, and even whether a hint of animals was suggestive of sexy wildness or simply farm life. She was easy to talk to and definitely had her vision of Leather and Lace well established. He’d sketch her samples of everything they’d discussed and go from there.
“Thanks for the explanations, Josh.” She rose to her feet and looked at him expectantly, crossing her arms beneath her breasts, so that the expensive silk clearly outlined the straps of her bra.
After standing up, he smiled at her over his shoulder as he headed for the slate path through the garden. “Do you need a ride tomorrow night?”
“No, thanks, I have a rental car.”
“Then I’ll see you at the ranch.”
Her cell phone rang, and she glanced down at the table, already distancing herself. He inhaled with regret, gave her a nod, and walked away, just like he had last December.
Things were going to be different this time.