Читать книгу A Saddle Made For Two - Roxann Delaney, Roxann Delaney - Страница 11

“What’s wrong?” Ellie asked, when J.R. started to walk away in the middle of their conversation.

He turned back to her with a smile. “I thought I saw someone I know.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and studied him. “Do you know many rodeo people?”

“One or two. Through business.”

A small shiver of excitement rippled through her. Spending all of her life on the ranch, and then on the circuit, had isolated her from the rest of the world. No matter what she decided to do with herself after she retired, she wanted to see how nonrodeo people lived. And live it herself.

He touched her hand. “I’ll be back to watch you ride. And tomorrow night when you’re finished, we’ll have dinner. But right now I need to get back to business.”

Ellie ignored the fact that her heart didn’t flutter at the physical contact. He had the oddest eyes. Brown, like hers, and almost impossible to read. With most people she knew what they were feeling by looking into their eyes, but his seldom showed emotion. Was he coming on to her?

“I’ll see you tonight. I’ll be cheering you on,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze.

She thanked him and watched him walk away, unsure of what had transpired. But she didn’t have time to dwell on it. If she didn’t hurry, she’d be late. The sun had begun its descent on the horizon, and she needed to change before the opening ceremony. She’d never been much for the fancy outfits some of the others wore, but she made concessions, knowing the crowd liked to see the competitors in bright colors. The flashier, the better.

In her camper she stripped off her boots, jeans and shirt and opened the door to her closet. Reaching for her favorite deep-red, fringed shirt, she glanced in the mirror.

She’d never paid much attention to her body and couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a long look at herself. Being smaller than most women, she’d assumed she was still built like a young girl. The image of the woman in front of her gave her a completely different view. To her surprise she had hips, though nothing to brag about. Her larger-than-she’d-thought bust was nothing to write home about, either, but at least she had one. She straightened her shoulders and sucked in a breath. Not bad, she thought. But why hadn’t she ever noticed?

“Because you never had a reason to care, you fool,” she reminded her reflection. She took a step back for a better look. “Would men like this?” She’d had her share of wolf whistles from leering cowboys, but she’d brushed them off as matter-of-fact. That’s the way cowboys were. When they got to know her, most of them treated her the same way her brothers did. None of them had ever had that spark of fire in their eyes that she’d seen in—

She shook her head. “Uh-uh, no way, girl. Don’t even go there.” Thinking of that particular cowboy was dead wrong. Pushy, arrogant and nothing but a rodeoer who’d wander for the rest of his life, Chace was a danger she couldn’t let herself consider.

But why was it him who sent rivulets of heat through her whenever he looked at her? She might not know much about men, and she might not have paid much attention to her blossoming body, but she knew enough about both to know that he was the one who stoked a fire in her. She’d heard of chemistry, of how a woman’s body reacted to some men. But chemistry wouldn’t get her a home in the city and the kind of life she wanted. Chemistry would get her trouble.

Her pristine white bra and panties drew her attention. She remembered seeing fellow barrel racer, Dawn Dawson, in the showers in Memphis. The two of them were the same age, but Dawn had the body of Venus de Milo, and men always followed her around. The woman had peeled off her clothes right in front of Ellie, who had more modesty than she knew what to do with, to reveal jade-green bikini underwear and a matching bra that left little to the imagination.

Is that what makes Dawn’s hips sway from side to side? What gives her such confidence?

Ellie took a step back and studied her reflection. Would fancy underthings help? Not that anyone would see them, of course. But only to know that a secret lay hidden beneath her jeans and shirts…?

It was a thought she pondered for some time.

Chace waited until J.R. had driven away before making his first move. If the weasel was on the scent of something that would gain him more than a few bucks, he wouldn’t waste time. Chace needed to talk to Ellie and find out what she had that Jimmy Bob wanted. Things would only get worse if he put it off.

When the doorknob to her camper turned with ease, he swore under his breath, prepared to give her the blistering lecture she deserved. Hell, she’d already found one snake in there. Did she want to find another, this time with legs?

He wrenched open the door and leaped up the step. “When the hell are you going to—”

Freezing on the spot, his tirade stuck in his throat. Ellie stood less than five feet in front of him dressed in nothing but her unmentionables and looking at him with horror-filled eyes. He couldn’t have stopped his body’s reaction at the sight of her if someone had tossed a bucket of ice water on him. He’d seen women in less, but something about the maidenish look of Ellie did things to him he wouldn’t have imagined.