The Last Cowboy Standing. Barbara Dunlop
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Astrid nodded toward the dance floor. “Looks like he’s getting along fine with Nadine.”
Danielle couldn’t help a reflexive glance at the couple as they danced together. “Nadine has probably been blinded by the shine off that enormous belt buckle.”
“She always was attracted to winners.”
Danielle couldn’t help but take note of Travis’s hand on the small of Nadine’s back, her touch on his shoulder, the animated smile on his face, and the way she was chattering on to him. He twirled her around, and she laughed as he pulled her back, holding her even closer against him as they swayed to the music.
Danielle couldn’t seem to stop a reflexive shimmer of sexual awareness from flashing through her belly. She pictured herself dancing with Travis. Then abruptly shook the image away.
“What’s that?” asked Astrid.
“What?”
“You’re blushing,” Astrid accused.
“I am not.”
“You got the hots for the bull rider.”
“Not even a little bit.”
“I think a little bit. I think more than a little bit.”
“I’m ignoring it,” Danielle declared, lifting her martini glass only to find it empty. She glanced around for the waitress. “I’m using intellect and reason to counteract inappropriate infatuation.”
“You should dance with him,” said Astrid.
“Not on your life.”
“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”
“I’m sure not doing anything tonight that I have to leave in Vegas.”
“I’m talking about dancing. What is it you have in mind?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
She and Travis had come close to...well, close to something a couple of years back when he’d rescued her from a derelict barn. He’d mostly been amused, and she’d mostly been angry. But after they got back to his ranch house, and she’d showered and borrowed one of his sister’s robes, there’d been a moment, a very long moment, when he’d look like he wanted to kiss her.
Her desire for that kiss had been so strong that it frightened her. She’d reacted defensively, uttering some patently untrue and hurtful remark. It had worked. He’d backed off. But it had also made him angry, and their relationship had never recovered.
* * *
“I see your drink is empty,” Travis couldn’t help saying to Danielle as he escorted Nadine to their table. He raised his brow in a question.
“That’s your cue to dance with him.” The woman called Astrid nudged Danielle with her elbow.
It was her cue to dance with him. Although he fully expected her to shoot him down, he had to take the chance. Danielle was in front of him, and he wanted to touch her. It was as simple as that.
Nadine dropped into her chair at the table, crossing her shapely legs and taking a drink of something frozen and orange. “Go for it, Danielle,” she breathed. “The band’s great.”
Danielle shook her head. “I’m not—” But then she stopped. Her eyes went wide, and she focused on a spot behind his shoulder. “Sure.” She rose to her feet. “Why not?”
Travis glanced behind him, finding a smartly dressed man in his late twenties. He was clean-shaven. His light brown hair was slicked back, slightly shiny, neat around the ears. He wore an expensive, pin-striped suit, with a white dress shirt and a purple tie. The handkerchief in his pocket matched the tie, and his gaze was intent on Danielle.
“Dani,” he opened with a dazzling, white smile.
“Sorry, Randal,” she spoke breezily, linking her arm with Travis’s. “Just about to dance.” She all but dragged Travis toward the dance floor.
“What was that?” Travis asked, as he turned her into his arms.
“What was what?” she asked, all wide-eyed innocence.
“What was up with the guy back there?” He settled a hand on the small of her back.
“Nothing.” She took a breath, placed her hand on his shoulder and stepped into the smooth jazz music.
She felt so good in his arms that he almost let her get away with it. The dance floor was crowded. The breeze from the open window ruffled her hair. Man, she was beautiful.
But he was too curious to let it drop. “You were about to turn me down. Don’t pretend you weren’t. Then that guy showed up, and you changed your mind.”
Danielle gave her short, brown hair a little toss. It was soft and trendy, long across her eyes, wispy at her neck. “I didn’t expect to see you in Vegas.”
The longer he held her in his arms, the less he cared about the other guy. “Is that your way of telling me he’s none of my business?”
“He is none of your business. But that’s my way of telling you I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Okay by me.”
“Thank you.” There was an edge of sarcasm to her voice.
Travis was used to that. “I didn’t expect to see you in Vegas, either.”
“I’m attending an international law conference.”
“Interesting?”
“It is if you like international law.”
“Not exactly my forte.”
“That’s true, isn’t it?”
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because, you’re in my world now, cowboy.”
He didn’t exactly know what she meant by that. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to pursue it, either, since it would likely mean they’d end up arguing. The way he saw it, Vegas was as much his world as hers.
“You saw me ride?” he asked instead.
“The girls dragged me along.” She paused. “Bull riding is not exactly my sport of choice.”
He wasn’t about to take offense. He’d have been shocked speechless if she’d confessed to a secret love of bull riding. “Where were you sitting?”
She pulled back to look at him, her gaze quizzical. “Why?”