The Cowboy

That does not mean, however, that he and I can't enjoy an affair. I've decided to pick up where we left off last year."
    "We were engaged last year," Rafe reminded her coldly.
    "No, Rafe. You might have felt you were engaged because you had asked me to marry you several times, but the truth is I was still considering your proposal when everything blew up in my face. I had doubts about the wisdom of marrying you then and after having had a full year to think about it, I have even more doubts about it now. Therefore, I'm only willing to go as far as having an affair with you. Take it or leave it."
    "The hell I will."
    "Rafe, your mother was right. I'll make you a much better mistress than I would a wife." Without waiting for a response, Margaret turned and started toward the sanctuary of her bedroom.
    She never made it. Rafe came silently up out of his chair and swooped across the patio in a few long strides. He caught her up in his arms and tossed her over his shoulder before she knew quite what had happened.
    Rafe didn't pause. He didn't say a word. He simply carried her through one of the open glass doors, across the living room and out into the hot sunshine.

5
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    "W hat do you think you're doing, Rafe? This is inexcusable behavior, absolutely inexcusable. I will not tolerate it."
    "It's cowboy behavior and I'm just a cowboy at heart, remember?" He strode swiftly toward one of the long, low white barns.
    "You're an arrogant, high-handed bastard at heart, that's what you are." Margaret was suddenly acutely aware of an audience. Tom and another man in work clothes and boots glanced toward Rafe and grinned broadly. "Rafe, people are watching. For heaven's sake, put me down."
    "I don't take orders from a mistress."
    "Damn it, Rafe."
    "Now, I might listen to an engaged lady or a wife, maybe, but not a mistress. No, ma'am."
    "Put me down."
    "In a minute. I want to find us some privacy first."
    "Privacy. Rafe, you're creating an embarrassing public spectacle. And you have the nerve to wonder why I never came crawling back to you on my hands and knees this past year begging you to forgive me. This sort of behavior is exactly why I considered I'd had a very lucky escape."
    "Let's not bring up past history. We're supposed to be making a fresh start, remember? If I can let bygones be bygones, so can you."
    "You are unbelievably arrogant."
    "Yeah, but even better, I usually get what I want."
    He carried her into the soft shadows of a long barn. Hanging upside-down as she was, Margaret had an excellent view of a straw-littered floor. The earthy scents of horses and hay wafted up around her. A row of equine heads with pricked ears appeared above the open stall doors.
    Margaret gasped as Rafe swung her off his shoulder and onto her feet. As she regained her balance she glared at her tormentor and fumbled to readjust the clip that held her hair at her nape.
    "Honestly, Rafe, that was an absolutely outrageous thing to do. I'd demand an apology but I know I won't get one. I doubt if you've ever apologized in your entire life."
    "Maggie, love, we'd better have a long talk. There appears to be a slight misunderstanding here."
    "Stop calling me Maggie. I've told you a hundred times I don't like it. That's another thing. You never really listen to me, do you? You think everything has to be done your way and the rest of us should just learn to like it that way, no matter what. Your mother tried to tell me this morning that you'd changed during the past year but I knew better and I was right, wasn't I? You just proved it. You're still a thickheaded, domineering, bossy, overbearing cowboy who rides roughshod over everyone else."
    "
That's enough
." Rafe stood with his booted feet braced, his hands on his hips, his eyes narrowed dangerously.
    "Good Lord, you are a real cowboy, aren't you?" Her voice was scathing. "You look right at home here in this barn with that…that
stuff
on your boots."
    He glanced down automatically and saw the stuff to which she referred with such disdain. There was a small pile of it near his left boot. Prudently he moved the elaborately tooled black leather boot with its red and yellow star design a few inches to the right.
    "Goes with the territory," Rafe said. He looked up again. "And you can quit playing the sophisticated city girl who's never seen the inside of a barn. I know the truth about you, lady. Connor and I have had a few long talks."
    "Is that right?" she sniffed.
    "Damned right. I know for a