Читать онлайн «The Last Cowboy Standing»
Автор Dunlop Barbara
“Instinctively, I want to kiss you. But I’ve had that particular instinct for a long time now, and I’m not sure I should trust it. ”
Danielle smiled. “You should trust it. ”
His hands moved to her face, cradling it gently in his palms. “What about my other instincts?”
“You have other instincts?”
“To toss you down on the grass and ravish you in the moonlight. ”
Want and need instantly cascaded through her, robbing her of her breath. She wished it didn’t sound so tempting. There were a million complicated reasons to keep her distance from Travis, even if her own desires were screaming at her to ignore them.
She came up on her toes to meet him. “Let’s take it one instinct at a time. ”
* * *
The Last Cowboy Standing is part of the Colorado Cattle Barons series from
The Last
Cowboy Standing
Barbara Dunlop
To my mother, with love.
Contents
One
Travis Jacobs could do anything for eight seconds. At least, that’s what he told himself every time he climbed up the side of a bull chute. Tonight’s Vegas crowd was loud and enthusiastic, their attention centered on the current rider being bucked around the arena by Devil’s Draw.
Putting the other cowboys in the competition from his mind, he looked at Esquire below him, checking for any sign of agitation.
Then he rolled his cuffs up a couple of turns, pulled his brown Stetson low and tugged a worn, leather glove onto his right hand.The crowd groaned in sympathy a mere second before the horn sounded, telling Travis that Buckwheat Dawson had come off the bull. Up next, Travis swung his leg over the chute rail and drew a bracing breath. While Karl Schmitty held the rope, he adjusted the rigging and wrapped his hand. Wasting no time, he slid up square on the bull and gave a sharp nod to the gate operator.
The chute opened, and all four of Esquire’s feet instantly left the ground. The Brahma shot out into the arena then straight up in the air under the bright lights. The crowd roared its pleasure as the black bull twisted left, hind feet reaching high, while Travis leaned back, spurred, his arm up, muscles pumped, fighting for all he was worth to keep himself square on the animal’s back.
Esquire turned right, twisting beneath Travis, shaking him as if he was a bothersome gnat. Three seconds turned to four. Travis’s hand burned against the rope, and his wrist felt like it was about to dislocate. The strain sent a branching iron along his spine, but he also felt completely and totally alive. For a brief space of time, life was reduced to its essence. Nothing mattered but the battle between Travis and the bull.
