Kayla & the Rancher, Paige Tyler [story read aloud TXT] 📗

towel, and then took the pins from her hair. Cord seemed to like it tied back with a ribbon, so she would wear it like that for dinner. Picking up her hairbrush, she walked over to the window and slowly began to run it through her long hair. She was watching the horses graze in one of the paddocks when Cord rode up, and at the sight of him, Kayla

caught herself smiling.

Cord swung down from the saddle and walked over to the trough of water

beside the barn. Unaware that he was being watched, he stripped off his shirt, carelessly tossing the garment onto the adjacent fence. Kayla caught her

breath as she stared at his naked chest.

She’d seen paintings and sculptures of men in various states of undress

before, but none of those men even compared with Cord. He was gorgeous.

Every muscle, from his shoulders to his taut stomach, was clearly defined in exquisite detail, and she suddenly longed to run her hands over their

smoothness. She blushed at the direction of her thoughts.

As she watched, he dipped a wooden pail into the trough. Lifting it with both hands, he tipped his head back, and poured the crystal clear water over his face. Kayla watched transfixed as it ran down his chest, making his tanned skin glisten in the afternoon sunlight. Her pulse quickened and she tightened her hand on the handle of the brush.

Below, Cord set the pail down and picked up his shirt from where he’d tossed it over the fence. Kayla waited until he’d disappeared into the barn before she left the window and walked over to the washstand. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she saw that her cheeks were flushed. Cord would be coming in

for dinner soon, she thought. How was she going to look at him now without blushing?

But before she could come up with an answer for that, the door to her room opened and Cord strode in. Startled, she whirled around. He hadn’t put his shirt back on, but carried the garment in his hand, and, try as she might, she couldn’t seem to stop staring at his bare chest. Up close, he was even more perfect, she thought. The water had dripped down his chest to soak the front of his pants, making them fit tightly to his form underneath. She tried to pull her eyes away from that area, but her gaze kept straying back.

Cord, however, was oblivious to her scrutiny. “One of the hands was in town today, and do you know what he told me?” he demanded.

At his harsh tone, Kayla tore her gaze away from the area below his beltline to look up at Cord, only to find him glowering down at her, and she wondered what had him so angry. But before she could ask, Cord continued.

“He told me that he saw you playing poker at the saloon.” He folded his arms, and she couldn’t help but notice how the muscles in his arms flexed with the movement. “Is that true, Abigail?”

Kayla said nothing for a moment, wondering how she should answer his

question. She could either deny it or own up to it. She realized that denying it would be pointless because he already knew for a fact that she’d been there.

Instead, she chose to throw a tantrum, hoping she could confuse the issue. It had certainly worked many times on her father. She had discovered that

many men didn’t know how to handle an angry woman.

“Yes, it’s true.” She slapped the hairbrush down on the washstand and glared at him angrily. “I stopped by the saloon after I went to the general store, and yes, I played a little poker. It’s not like I committed a crime, you know! Why shouldn’t I be able to play any game I want?”

His eyes narrowed. “Ladies don’t play poker, Abigail, and they most certainly don’t go into saloons.”

She folded her arms. “Why not? There’s nothing wrong with a lady playing a game of cards back in New York.”

He frowned. “New York?”

Kayla said nothing for a moment. She hadn’t even realized that she’d slipped up. She quickly recovered, however. “I was there a few times,” she told him, and then hurried on before he could question her about that, too. “But there’s nothing wrong with it back in Boston, either. Or is it that out here you men just want to keep all of your women locked up in their homes, sewing curtains?”

He seemed to actually be taken aback for a moment, but quickly regained his focus. “Well, this isn’t New York or Boston,” he told her. “Out here, only loose women go into saloons, and I won’t have my wife’s reputation called into

question before we’re even married.” He paused. “Since you’re new to how

things work out here, I’ll let it go this time, but I don’t want you playing poker at the saloon again.”

Good sense told her to give in, but she’d never been the quiet, submissive type. “Just because we’re going to be married, does not mean that you own

me, Cord Holderness!” she snapped.

He scowled at her, and for a moment, she wondered if she’d pushed him too

far. “You’re right; I don’t,” he agreed. “But it is my job to protect you, Abigail, and saloons are dangerous places. People can get shot playing poker out

here.”

She shrugged. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating. The men I played with were

very nice.”

His brows drew together and he gave her a hard look. “This isn’t something I’m going to give in on, so I’ll make it clear. I don’t want you going to the saloon again, Abigail. Do you understand me?”

Again, Kayla knew that she should acquiesce, but the words just wouldn’t

seem to come. Instead, she lifted her chin and glared up at him defiantly. “If I want to go to the saloon again – or anywhere else, for that matter - I will, and you