Devil in Texass(4)

The sexy cowboy moved along the bar to make small talk with the other patrons

and pour fresh cocktails for them while she took a moment to steel herself for a huge 12

Devil in Texas

shock to the system. Elizabeth downed the shot, wincing at the slow burn in her throat and belly. It took several seconds to compose herself. Not just from the alcohol, but from the fiery sensations the Devil evoked. All with a seductive look and an arousing voice that kept an inferno of lust and longing raging inside her.

The gent to her left gave her a knowing smile and she realized it was damn obvious

to everyone in the saloon she wasn’t a tequila drinker. And that she was on a manhunt.

Kind of embarrassing to be so transparent, but as her gaze swept over the crowd, she

noted a few other women who appeared to be on a similar mission. Some even gave her

the evil eye.

Because the ultra-hot bartender had taken an interest in her? If so, it was a small

victory she desperately needed to help repair her damaged ego, so she didn’t feel the least bit guilty over nabbing his attention.

While the Devil continued to make the rounds further down the bar, Elizabeth took

the opportunity to whip out a small compact from her purse and check her appearance.

She quickly fluffed the shoulder-length chestnut curls and lamented the fact she was

due for new highlights. Nothing to be done about that tonight, though, so she moved

on to her makeup, still looking as fresh as when she’d applied it earlier in the evening.

The scarlet lipstick was a nice touch for the vixen look she’d been hoping to achieve.

The black liner was a bit thicker than normal around her bright green eyes, but again, it fit the persona she’d adopted for the evening.

Besides, if his first comment to her was any indication, the devilish bartender liked her eyes as much as he seemed to like her legs and breasts. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that her lackluster love life had led her to the neighborhood gym on a regular basis to relieve her tension—not having the quality fantasy material she now possessed to help get the job done.

Hell, she’d probably look like a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model today if she’d

devoted even more time to a personal trainer rather than wasting her evenings hosting Peter’s cocktail parties and letting him parade her around town like a prized science experiment. Or a trained monkey, take your pick. Sad to discover her only purpose in

his life had been arm candy to help advance his career and perpetuate the façade with his colleagues that he was actually a faithful heterosexual.

But why dwell on the Asshole when she had the Devil to focus on?

Satisfied everything was still in place on her face, she snapped the compact closed

and returned her attention to the man who’d garnered it since she’d walked into the

joint. He swaggered back toward her as if she was a magnet and he was steel. A river of fire flowed through her veins as he descended upon her.

He eyed her empty glass and she gave a slight nod of her head, indicating she

wanted another shot.

She reached into the far recesses of her mind for something flirty and fun to say as

the hot-’n-hunky bartender served her tequila. He then rested his forearms on the bar and leaned toward her, saving her from a tedious brain search.

13

Calista Fox

“Just passing through town or are you settling in?” His tone was back to the low,

intimate, sensual drawl that oozed down her spine like warm honey. The way he spoke

to her while gazing deep into her eyes….good Lord, they may as well be lovers already!

Reaching for the salt shaker sitting next to the second shot the Devil had poured,

she contemplated his question. Not too many people would do what she’d just done—

ditch an entire life on a whim. In fact, Elizabeth was still shocked she’d pulled such an impulsive and brazen move. But she’d needed a break from her stifling, oppressive

reality. Once she’d kicked up some dust and lived a little, she’d decide how permanent her escape was.

Her prospective one-night stand didn’t need to know about the debacle that was

her life, so she simply said, “I’m renting a cottage on the lake for a few weeks while I make up my mind.”

“Well, then. Welcome to Wilder, darlin’.” His tone and the wicked glint in his eyes

seemed to suggest he knew something she didn’t.

Suppressing a sigh of longing—the man really was too sinfully hot for words—she

made a big production out of wetting the crook of her hand between her thumb and

forefinger. Her tongue darted out and touched the skin. She coyly shot him a look to see if she’d evoked a physical response. His jaw clenched for a brief moment and she

gloated inwardly. Sprinkling a little salt on her damp flesh, she then licked her skin in one slow stroke, like she intended to do to his cock if they ever got that far. Finally, she slammed the shot and reached for the lime, sucking it hard.

She heard a low groan slip from his parted lips. In fact, his voice was gruff again as he asked, “So, where are you from, sweetheart?”

“I’m sure you only need one guess,” she said as she tossed the drained lime into the

empty glass. Though she didn’t have much of a New York accent—likely her father’s

influence—her cosmopolitan look, including her Dolce & Gabbana dress and

accessories, had to be a dead giveaway.

The Devil’s eyes slid over her once more and a cocky grin lifted one corner of his

sexy mouth. Which she really wanted to kiss. “Minot, North Dakota?” he ventured with

a wink.

She laughed as he poured tequila in a new glass. Sexy and witty—what a

combination! The dimple was just plain overkill, but she loved it anyway. Truly, there was nothing fair about this man. He didn’t leave a dry thong in his wake. Could’ve

made Mother Teresa wet, she was sure.

“Few states to the east,” Elizabeth said. “Born and raised in Manhattan. Though I

should get credit for having Texas in the blood. My father was from Austin.”

He nodded, the dimple still showing. His eyes, however, took on a more subdued

glow. “Was?”

Perceptive of him to pick up on that. “He died about ten years ago,” she said.

“Plane crash. The reason I drive, not fly.” She swallowed down her third shot, then

toyed with the empty glass, knowing she’d already had too much to drink, but

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Devil in Texas

suddenly wanting another one, given the subject matter. She resisted the urge, though, and the Devil helped to minimize her inevitable hangover by not offering a refill.