Have Cowboy, Need Cupid by Rita Herron

beaded between her breasts. Good Lord, where had that ridiculous thought come from?
    Rafe grabbed a rope and wound one end around his hand to form a lasso, then walked slowly toward the stallion. Sensing his game, the horse responded, trotting around the pasture, playing at being caught, Rafe’s movements moving in unison with the massive horse’s bulk. Was he going to put her on this huge beast? The one he said he usually rode?
    Talking in low, hushed tones, he soothed and cajoled, his voice a whispery thread as he coaxed the stallion to him. The horse finally brayed one last time, then settled next to Rafe, allowing him to stroke his back. He slowly slipped the rope around the horse’s neck, murmuring soft words of reassurance as he led Thunder across the grass. Suzanne watched, fascinated by the connection between man and beast, at the juxtaposition of the animal’s powerful moves and Rafe’s confident ones, at their sizes side by side.
    “Follow me to the barn. We’ll saddle him up and then I’ll take you for a ride.”
    A flutter of nerves attacked Suzanne. “I-I’m not sure I’m experienced enough for him.”
    The tips of Rafe’s long black hair brushed his collar as he angled his face toward her. “Don’t worry, sugar. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”
    Chapter Five
    “If you’re going to ride, you need to learn how to care for the horse,” Rafe said, as he looped the rope around the wooden post near the barn. “Before we saddle him, we always brush and clean him. He’ll get sore from the saddle if it’s not done properly.”
    Suzanne shaded her eyes with her hand. “Makes sense.”
    Rafe retrieved the bucket of brushes, combs and powders from the shed and showed her how to use them, trying to concentrate on the task and not the gentle way Suzanne Hartwell stroked Thunder’s crest or the scent of her perfume overriding the smell of fly powder. “Don’t ever stand behind the horse or he might kick you.”
    “Typical male,” Suzanne said with a sassy smile.
    He pinned her with a dark look. “A man has to defend himself.”
    Suzanne laughed out loud, a soft musical sound that reminded him of his mother playing the piano. He shook his head as she petted Thunder, crooning nonsensical baby talk to him while she dragged the brush through his mane, telling him what a pretty baby he was. His twenty-hand stallion whinnied and nudged his nose into her hand, falling under her hypnotic spell.
    The big traitor.
    “All right, now we saddle him up.” Rafe spread the saddle blanket over Thunder’s back, then reached for the black saddle, explaining his movements as he demonstrated how to fit the bit into the horse’s mouth and secure the bridle and saddle straps. “Make sure it’s tight enough that it won’t slip when you get on.”
    “Looks easy enough.” She reached for the stirrup, but he brushed her aside.
    “You need to learn how to do it yourself.” He spotted Bud standing in the barn doorway. “Bring Blondie out here for Miss Suzanne.”
    His sixty-five-year-old hand grinned toothily. “Sure enough.”
    Rafe almost laughed as surprise registered on Suzanne’s face. She was so confident he’d do all the dirty work.
    He was supposed to be charming her into his way of thinking, showing her the beauty of the land, not putting her through some willpower test. He’d just have to suck it up, be charming to her and forget this crazy attraction.
    Surely he could control himself. After all, he didn’t like Suzanne Hartwell. She’d come to his ranch looking like some designer cowgirl ready to pose for a Western-wear catalog. Her jeans were so tight, he was surprised she could breathe, her perfume was so sweet it was damn near nauseating, and she would probably kill herself trying to ride in those stupid high-heeled boots.
    She was not the kind of woman who belonged on a ranch.

    S UZANNE GRITTED HER TEETH at the sight of the sway-backed mare. Her coat was a dusty beige, her slow