Chastity Meadows’ gaze was intense as Buck Caulfield rode the bull with ease. When he rode the large, muscular beast, the entire eight seconds was a sensual dance. She watched as he gripped the animal’s flanks, tightening the muscles beneath his jeans. His right hand tensed as he adjusted the rope ever so slightly. Each time the bull landed, the shock traveled up through his abdomen and rippled his chest before traveling the length of his left hand. Hot damn! He was fine. Her mouth watered. Her nipples hardened beneath her cotton tee, and her stomach clenched. She wanted him to win more than anything but realized if the man didn’t need any medical attention, she would never meet him.
Buck was one of the riders at the Professional Rodeo Cowboy Association Championships here in Las Vegas who didn’t have a personal physician in tow. Some riders’ sponsors brought their own medical team. For those who had none, Chastity and her crew were next in line.
She never recovered from her first rodeo. She’d been an intern, and the PRCA was traveling through looking for volunteers to handle any injuries. The rodeo had been small potatoes, most riders paying their way to ride without the sponsors, but they weren’t the least bit intimidated by her profession. The cowboys were down-to-earth and treated her like she was back on her daddy’s farm. Even though she was planning on working in a large metropolitan hospital when her residency was done, the rodeos were a strong reminder of home.
To say her father was disappointed she was living in a major city and didn’t take over the family cattle business was an understatement. When she told him she wanted to go into medicine, he hoped she meant veterinary science. No such luck.
The buzzer sounded, bringing Chastity back to the present. Luck was on Buck’s side tonight. His landing looked rough as he wobbled on the dismount, but he dusted off and walked to the bullpen where the competition slapped him on the back for a job well done.
Chastity sighed. Was it too much to hope for a dislocated shoulder—something fixable so he’d still ride but need her tender loving care? She giggled at the thought of him riding her. The sound was loud enough to draw the attention of some riders, including Buck Caulfield. He didn’t smile at her, simply nodded and winced. The man hurt, and his pain was her cue to head below.
A distinctly feminine, silly laugh almost took Buck’s mind off the pain shooting up his leg. Damn, it hurt. He didn’t think anything was broken. He barely made the eight seconds on Hell’s Fury, and Fury could throw. Buck knew his landing wasn’t graceful, but he didn’t give a crap until he started moving under his own steam. Walking felt like a thousand needles poking the sides of his legs. He needed a straight shot of whiskey after this was over.
He had one more ride today, and then he was done until the finals. He could put some heat on his leg, his back — ah hell, he needed to soak his whole damn broken body. Buck was getting too old to do the circuit. At thirty-four, he needed more ice, liquor, and the occasional surgeon to patch him up. This year he was on top, though, and a serious contender for the national title. These semi-finals were brutal, but he was so close he was sure he’d make the finals. Then he’d take the two week break, get patched up, and win his damn buckle.
Buck cleared the auditorium and limped down the long white hall, the pain lessening to a nice, steady ache by the time he reached his dressing room. He gripped the door handle but stopped cold when he heard a call.
“Mr. Caulfield.” The feminine voice soothed his weary body.
He turned and found the giggling red-head from the stands.
“Ma’am.” Buck tipped his hat and smiled. Pretty little thing probably wanted an autograph.
“Are you all right?” Concern etched her features. “Looked like a pretty tough land.”
“Ma’am, I’ll be fine. Thanks, though.” Buck masked the pain as he adjusted his weight to his good leg, locking his hip. The action drew her glance down, and she paused at his fly.
She stared intently, her eyes getting glazed.
Buck cleared his throat. Her brown eyes lifted, and her gaze smoldered.
“Is there something else you’d like?” He didn’t bother to hide his innuendo.
Her face turned bright red, complementing her curly hair.
“No. I wanted to see you were all right.” She turned to leave.
“Well thank you, Miss…” He hadn’t noticed a ring on her slender fingers.
“Doctor…Doctor Chastity Meadows.” She smiled at him, and the simple gesture lit up her face, highlighting the freckles dancing along her nose and giving her dark eyes a green tint.
“Well thanks, Doc.” So the giggly airhead was a doctor; too bad.
He didn’t have anything against the profession, but he didn’t like the idea of a one night stand with a smart woman. Now that was scary. Give him a bull in the ring, but a woman with brains, well, he didn’t dare ride one. Females were regular chatterboxes as it was. Bad enough feelings were involved, but with a doctor there would be judgments. He wasn’t exactly the poster child for a healthy lifestyle.
“If it’s all the same to you, Mr. Caulfield, I’d sure like to look at your leg.” The good doctor advanced into his personal space. She was too damn close and smelled like flowers with a hint of dirt, an unlikely match, but he liked the scents together. Her aroma drew him closer as he imagined her mingling with him.
“Look, Doc. I got no problem with this here leg. I do, however, have a problem with you being this close.” Buck intentionally brushed his hand over her breast. He made no apologies as his fingers caught the nipple beneath her white T-shirt. “If you want to look at my leg…you can look at the rest of me, too.”
“Fine.” The simple word came out husky as she leaned closer to his hand.
Buck hadn’t expected her response. He fully intended to scare her off, not lure her in. Her nipple was pebbled between his rolling fingers, and her hand cupped the front of his jeans, rubbing him through the fabric. She smelled good. The pain in his leg was replaced by a more urgent ache in his groin. If her fingers continued their sweet play, he would embarrass himself. Buck ran his free hand along the door until it rested against the cold metal of the knob. He needed to open the door and get her inside. He turned the handle slightly and shifted. The movement was a mistake. He tumbled backward and hit the floor hard.
The sound of Buck hitting concrete echoed down the hall as he heard Chastity shout, “Medic!”
“It’s fine.” Buck forced the words past his teeth. If he thought the pain before was bad, this was hellacious torture.
“You are not fine.” She turned and directed the two men in white who hustled up with a stretcher in tow. “Get him up on the gurney.”
The two medics lifted him like a sack and threw him onto the cart, ignoring Buck’s grunt of displeasure at their roughness.
Buck looked to Dr. Meadows. She was all business now. Chastity unbuttoned his shirt, pulling the fabric back. She ran her hands along the waist of his jeans until she grasped his T-shirt, tugging the ends out. Doc ran her cool hands up his warm skin resting them and the cold stethoscope against his heart. He inhaled sharply.
“Sorry,” her breath whispered against his shoulder. “I should’ve warmed it up.”
Buck’s rapid breathing had nothing to do with the cold metal on his chest. He had to calm his man-parts down. He was in a horrible amount of pain, and still he sat sporting a huge hard-on for the Doc with two male medics in tow. Could it get any worse?
“Holy crap! Look at his leg.” One man pointed then promptly fainted, hitting the cement floor with a resounding thud. Buck looked down to see his leg swollen in his boot. His left leg looked a good deal bigger than his other.
“Amateurs,” Doc muttered under her breath and rolled her eyes at him. “Did he hit his head?”
The remaining medic shook his head.
“Fine. Get your partner out of here. He doesn’t do me any good on his back,” she added the last under her breath. Only Buck heard her.
“Sorry, he’s new.” The man did as she commanded.
“It’s your fibula. I need to cut off the boot.” Her voice was soft against Buck’s lips as her stare bore into his.
Her gaze was so intense Buck almost missed what she said.
“Cut my boot! Like hell you are, woman! Get the hell away from me! I need to get back out there.” He flailed his arms pushing Chastity.
She staggered backward but didn’t fall. Buck seized the side rail of the stretcher and swung his legs over the edge. The fire shooting out of Chastity’s tawny eyes made Buck regret putting his hands on her. His pa always said red-headed women were temperamental. Buck’s mouth went dry. He wasn’t scared, but he’d rather face Hell’s Fury in a sealed pen than face the Doc in her own present fury.
“I should’ve had them strap you down. I guarantee if you go out in your condition and try to ride, the very least you are going to have is a limp. You arrogant SOB, is your leg worth the damn buckle?” Her voice was colder than a Dakota winter.
“That’s my decision, not yours, and I say it is.” His fingers closed tighter around the cool metal sides of the gurney.
“If you move one inch, Mr. Caulfield, you’ll regret it.”
Her threat didn’t scare him. He needed to show her who was boss of his destiny. Certainly not some hotshot mini-Doc with nice, round tits and a sweetheart butt. Damn his hard on. It chose the next moment to twitch in his jeans.
Doc’s golden eyes flew to his cock, and she licked her lips.
“Don’t do that,” Buck groaned. Chastity’s about face surprised him; boy did she run hot-and-cool.
“What? Admire your...ah...buckle?”
“How about you come relieve some of the pressure?” he hinted. Buck was determined to use every underhanded trick he knew.
“I think we should get this boot off your leg.” She stepped closer, her hands fidgeting at her sides.
“Don’t be scared. One swollen thing at a time.” His voice was quiet. He didn’t want to spook her. Buck wanted to seduce his way back into the rodeo.
“Fine.” She closed the distance between them.
Before Buck could protest, she leaned down and ran her tongue along the seam of his lips.
“You’re playing with fire, Doc.”
“I know,” she said. She finally kissed him. Her kiss was powerful; the ache in his leg went from piercing to dull until finally he didn’t notice. She broke away before he could touch her.
“Maybe I was wrong about you, Doc.” His voice was slurred by her intoxicating kiss.
“Call me Chastity, and no you weren’t.” Her luminous gaze traveled slowly down the length of his body.
He followed her gaze and was shocked to see a large empty syringe sticking out of his leg.
“What did you do?” He grasped the edges of her shirt collar, pulling her towards him as he leaned to the side, slumping back onto the gurney.
“It’s a sedative, courtesy of the head physician on site. Should kick in any moment.” She smiled like a cat that caught her mouse.
“You bi…” Buck slipped into unconsciousness, planning to get even.
© Tina Holland
Author: Tina Holland
Publisher: Resplendence Publishing
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance
Buck Caulfied wanted to win a buckle not break a leg. He did just that, and “Doc” Chastity Meadows patched him up and then put him to bed.
Chastity never got over Buck because she didn’t have time. She went from setting broken limbs to barely breaking even. Her father’s untimely death left Chastity to take over the family ranch now in dire straits.
Chastity has managed to keep the banker and her ambitious neighbors at bay but for how much longer? An unexpected windfall comes: Buck Caulfield.
He had no idea Chastity owned the ranch he was looking at taking over, but now that he’s found her, he’s not about to let her go, not someone as lovely as his buckin’ Chastity.