The Sweetest Taboo (A Modern Vintage Romance)

Chapter 2

It was my first time in Montana. As a big fan of the TV show Yellowstone, it had been a dream come true when Ace suggested I spend a month at his family ranch while I was homeless. The lease on my old apartment had ended, and the lease on the new one was three weeks away. When Ace made the offer, I felt the universe was giving me a sign to go have fun—for the first time in my life.

I”d never gone on holiday, ever. I”d always worked through every weekend and holiday. I had no support system except my friend Yasmin, who was, alas, moving to New York with her American fiancée, whom she”d been living in London with for the past year. I was happy for her, but bugger it, I was going to miss her like mad.

As soon as I had a proper job and a regular paycheck, I”d visit her in New York, I”d promised her and myself. I”d been nowhere but London and Cornwall, where I”d gone for an internship, so New York was a world apart. Even now, I had to pinch myself every time I looked out of my bedroom window to see the tall mountains of Montana.

Ace”s family raised cattle, and considering some of the steaks I”d eaten in the five days since I”d been at the ranch, I was in awe, and congratulated myself on my luck.

”So, Caitlyn and her parents will be over for dinner,” Ace told me.

I tucked my hands in the pockets of my tailored shorts. I”d brought my very best clothes with me to Montana—not that I had many. But I”d made sure I”d be presentable. I”d invested in boots because I wanted to be able to walk around the ranch, and that, from my research, required proper footwear. It had been a significant expense for me, but I”d sucked it up. Now, as I wore my shorts with a white camisole blouse and boots, I felt like a Montana girl.

Beth Dutton, here I come!

”Are you sure you”re doing the right thing here, Ace?” I asked again. I”d thought he was joking when he introduced me to his mother and brother as his girlfriend and not just a friend. When I”d asked what the hell he was up to, he”d confessed he”d done it with the sole purpose of making Caitlyn, his ex, jealous. She”d dumped him right before he”d left for London, and he wanted her back.

”Come on, aren”t you getting a free vacation?” he barked.

I was horrified at that statement. ”I didn”t know that I was going to pay for this holiday by playing your fake girlfriend, Ace.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. Ace was a good-looking guy, if a little shallow. He was as old as me. He was tall, which was nice since I was nearly five-ten, and I struggled with being taller than most men around me, even when I didn”t wear heels. Ace didn”t have that problem. He was a pretty boy, and when we met in London, we had fun. He came to the bar where I worked, and we struck up a friendship.

”I”m sorry, Isha, that came out wrong. Come on, help a friend.”

”It”s dishonest, Ace.”

”It”s just for a few weeks, and then you”ll go back. No harm, no foul.”

It took a few conversations before I finally relented. ”Fine, but I just want you to know how uncomfortable this makes me. I hate lying, Ace.”

”I know. Thank you. She”s going to take one look at you and be jealous as hell.”

”Why?”

He grinned. ”You”re such an innocent at times. You”re incredibly beautiful, you know that, right?”

I sighed. Not that again. I had no idea why people kept saying that because, when I looked in the mirror, I saw someone who was average. I was an orphan and always felt unwanted. I had no one to love me except for Yas. If I was such a great-looking girl, I”d have someone who”d look at me the way Derek looked at Yasmine, wouldn”t I?

”I”m not ugly,” I muttered.

He wrapped himself around me and gave me a quick hug, and dropped a kiss on my forehead. I wasn”t a touchy-feely person growing up the way I did without much affection. It was new, this easy affection that didn”t have a creepy sexual undertone.

”Look, I want to warn you—”

”Hey, Isha, Ace.” Rowan, Ace”s brother, stepped into the garden, and my heart pumped more blood into my body.

If Ace was a pretty boy, Rowan looked like…well, not Rip from Yellowstone, but it was close. He was big and built. All muscle. He didn”t have a beard, and his hair was dark, lush, and curled around his neck. In a pair of jeans and a cowboy hat, he had me soaking through my pants.

He smelled of leather and spice, and whenever he came close, I felt like I was a feral animal, sniffing a potential mate.

”Having fun, Isha?” he asked.

”Yes, thank you,” I replied politely.

”Deb wants to talk to you, Ace.”

Ace gave me a warning look that I didn”t understand, and he walked away from us. Well…more like stomped away.

”Is everything alright?” I asked.

”Why wouldn”t it be?”

Left without a response, I instinctively tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. Normally, I preferred wearing my shoulder-length hair down, but given Montana”s scorching heat in August, I had opted for a practical ponytail to keep it out of my way.

”Have you ever ridden a horse?” he asked lazily.

Excitement raced through me. ”Never.”

”Do you want to?”

”Yes, please.”

He held out a hand to me, and I stared at it. I wasn”t comfortable touching people—I came from a childhood spent trying to get away from unwanted advances, even before I knew what any of it meant.

I swallowed, and put my hand in his. He was just being friendly.

He led me to the stables, and I delighted in the simple act of holding hands with him—a sensation that made me feel somewhat silly. Unlike most of my friends and acquaintances my age, who were sexually experienced, a traumatic incident at the orphanage had made me wary of physical intimacy with the opposite sex.

With Rowan, however, I experienced an attraction unlike anything before—potent and undeniable. Observing the way he sometimes looked at me, I couldn”t help but wonder if he felt the same.

Of course, it was all going to turn to shite because he thought I was dating his brother.

Which was such a shame. But I”d enjoy his company, I decided. I was on an American adventure, and if that included a crush on a cowboy, it was an absolute delight.

”Will I ride on my own?” I asked.

”Hell no,” Rowan said gruffly.

I hadn”t known then, but that day Rowan took me horse riding would forever be etched in my memory, not just for the sheer novelty of it, but for the beauty that unfolded around us, a stark contrast to my bustling life back in London.

The stables, with their sturdy, aged wood construction, exuded a scent of hay and horse that I found irresistibly appealing. I loved the rustic charm!

Rowan”s horse, a majestic chestnut named Apollo, seemed as if he”d stepped out of an old western, with muscles rippling under a glossy coat that caught the Montana sun in every stride.

Rowan helped me onto Apollo with an ease that spoke of his familiarity and respect for these creatures, placing me in the saddle before him. The warmth of his body against my back was unsettling and exciting. I didn”t know how to feel. As we set off, the rhythm of Apollo”s movements beneath us was exhilarating.

Rowan”s breath fanned my cheek, and when he spoke in my ear, I felt a shiver run through me. He had one hand on the reins, but the other wrapped around my waist. My camisole shifted as we moved, and I bit off a moan when his calloused hand rubbed against the skin of my stomach.

”It”s beautiful,” I murmured, despite how tight my chest felt.

And it was.

Montana unfolded around us like a living painting. The vast, open skies were an incredible shade of blue, stretching endlessly above rolling hills and fields that seemed to glow with a golden hue. The air was fresh, carrying the scent of pine and earth that you”d never find in the city. It was raw and real, untouched by the rush of technology, a reminder of a world that thrived on simplicity and beauty.

Rowan leaned over and rested his cheek against mine. ”That there is Beartooth range.” He lifted his hand from my waist, and pointed to the jagged peaks that dominated the horizon. ”And over there is the Gallatin River, great for fly-fishing.”

”I”ve never gone fishing,” I blurted, feeling alarmed at his closeness. It was too much. I was feeling too many things, and my young, inexperienced body was in chaos.

”I”ll take you.”

”Where does the ranch end?” I asked, shifting in the saddle, trying to somehow find a way to not have his thighs cradle mine. But it was impossible to do. My nipples were hard, rasping against my brasserie, and there was a fire between my legs, one I”d never felt before.

”Darlin”, it”s all mine, as far as the eye can see.” His tone was laced with a mix of pride and reverence for this land, its rugged beauty and vastness.

I swallowed. ”Amazing,” I whispered.

His hand came back to my waist. He stopped the horse at a vista point and let go of the reins. He cradled me close to him, and I could feel his erection against my bottom. Oh my God!

He stroked the bare skin of my stomach, and goosebumps erupted across my body.

”You okay, darlin”?”

”Rowan, can we get off the horse?”

”You don”t like it up here?” I felt his lips nuzzle the back of my neck. But for the fact that I was high from the ground, I”d have jumped.

”Please,” I begged. ”You”re too close.”

”Am I now?”

He didn”t release me from his touch or the heat that surrounded me, far more powerful than the Montana late afternoon sun.

”Please,” I tried again.

He suddenly let go of me, and dismounted. After a moment, he helped me get off the horse. I pulled my hand away from his. I was way out of my depth.

”How far are we from the house?” I asked. I couldn”t get back on that horse with him, I thought. I wouldn”t last. I”d do something stupid like turn my face to his and kiss him, or worse, let his arms rub against my aching nipples. This man, his smell, his touch…it was making me lose my head.

I couldn”t afford that. One of the things I learned at an early age was that you had to always be in control of yourself. In an orphanage, nobody gave a rat”s ass about your tantrums or your nightmares or your fears. If you were a crybaby, like some of the kids, the others would make your life miserable. Weakness was not something you showed when you lived in a jungle where you were prey or predator.

That Rowan was disrupting my control was cause for concern. I let nothing ever affect me.

”Far, Isha. You”re not walking back.”

I smiled wanly at him. ”I just was wondering.”

”Sure, you were, darlin”. Wanna sit for a bit?”

”Yes, please.”