His shoulders snapped to instant, utter tension, and his leg suddenly began throbbing. “I can’t. I’ve got work to do.”
?
??Work, like holding up the barn? It’s lunchtime, Cole. And I know for a fact that Easy told you to keep me happy. Isn’t that your job?”
For a moment, he couldn’t hear anything except the blood rushing in his ears. His heart hammered with twin storms of anger and alarm. He started to say, “My job is being a ranch hand,” but he cringed away from it. A few months ago, he’d been the boss. He couldn’t make himself say it. Not to this woman.
Maybe that was the worst part about all this. If he had to see this woman again, he wanted to be whole, strong, successful. He wanted to be in control and he wanted her to know it. But here he was, playing the part of her crippled errand boy. Her toy again, just as he had been before.
“Please?” she pressed. “Pretty please?”
And then there was a memory. Lying in her bed, spent and naked and sweaty. He’d been starry-eyed in love with her and floating in a cloud of satisfaction. And then she’d asked him to go spend the night at her friend’s hotel. Pretty please? She really liked you, Cole. And you obviously liked her a lot, too.
He’d said no at first, and Madeline had lost her powers of cute persuasion and been immediately irritated. “Are you kidding me? You already fucked her. What difference can it possibly make?”
“It doesn’t seem right. If you’re there, it’s one thing. But this feels like cheating.”
“She’s a very powerful woman, Cole,” Madeline had said, her voice caught somewhere between a coax and a threat. She’d shoved her arms into a robe and gone to light a cigarette and glare out the window.
He’d said yes, finally, and headed out the door to a waiting car.
His throbbing leg pulled him back to the present.
“It’s just a quick ride, Cole. Why are you being such an asshole?”
He had a few choices. Walk away and admit defeat. Explain that he couldn’t ride. Not yet. Or tell her that he hated her guts because of what she’d done to him. Emotional wounds or physical ones?
He went for something less drastic. “I broke my leg last year. It’s still acting up. No pleasure riding right now.”
Her anger dropped away and she smiled. “Pleasure riding, huh? Is that why you didn’t come by last night?”
He didn’t respond, but he was damn glad she’d changed the subject.
“Well, will you at least saddle my horse for me?”
“Sure.”
Riding high on relief, he grabbed her tack and started up the trail to the corral, doing his best to hide any limp. She was right behind him, just a step back. As they moved away from the yard, the noise of people faded and they were suddenly very alone in the breeze. Leaves rustled. Their boots crushed the occasional patch of dried grass. Cole felt every step like a knife of hot steel.
“You know,” Madeline said, “I’m a little surprised to find you here still playing cowboy, Cole.”
His head snapped up and he glared at the far tree line. “Excuse me?”
“I expected you were still in L.A. somewhere. Or at least not here. You had big plans.”
He actually laughed, her statement was so outrageously awful. “Madeline, I don’t even know what to say to that. I did have big plans. Yes. You’ve got that part right.”
“So, what happened?”
He adjusted the saddle he’d balanced on his shoulder, hoping the shift would take some of the weight off his injured leg. “I came to L.A. for you. Did you forget all that?”
Madeline moved past him with a shrug. “It got too complicated. Even you said that.”
“It got complicated because you were sharing me with your friends!”
“Sharing. Exactly. It’s not like you weren’t willing.”
“I didn’t know what I was getting into. And I didn’t enjoy it.”