shoulders, the strands blowing in the breeze. He wanted to weave his fingers through
the chestnut-colored, fluffy mass as he stared into those bewitching eyes of hers. He wondered if she had any idea how much they said about her. The excitement that
radiated from the depths of the shimmering green pools. The fear that mingled with
that excitement—likely at her current predicament, and that didn’t just include being in his company.
Throwing a dart at a map and moving halfway across the country on a whim had to
be a huge shock to the system. No matter who you were.
As he considered this, she stumbled again and groaned. “Clearly the wrong shoe
choice this evening.”
She was having trouble navigating the small rocks beneath her feet. With his hand
on her elbow, he kept her relatively steady. He’d scoop her up and carry her to the
truck to keep her from toppling over, but that felt a little too Me Tarzan, You Jane. Even for Jack Wade.
Instead, his fingers tightened around her elbow and held it firmly as he directed her to his vehicle. Her warm, bare skin against his made him think once more of stretching out on his big bed with their legs entwined as his hands explored her naked body. The solar radiance emitting from every inch of her made him wonder how much of that heat
was related to the weather and how much of it was an innate response to him.
When they reached the black Dodge Ram truck, Jack opened the passenger door for
her. She frowned up at him, making his gut pull tight.
“What’s wrong?”
She appraised the side of the truck, her full, luscious lips twisting in contemplation.
Jack’s gaze shifted to the vehicle. Oh yes. Though the Ram was only slightly lifted, it was still a long way up to the seat.
“Not exactly conducive to a micro-mini-wearing woman sporting come-fuck-me
pumps,” she mumbled.
Jack laughed at her choice of words.
“Thoughts on how to get me up there?” she inquired.
“Happy to give you a boost.” He flashed her what was surely his wickedest grin
while resisting the urge to move his hand from her elbow to her ass. Her very nice, tight ass, he might add.
22
Devil in Texas
She smirked playfully at him, though again, he doubted she knew that her vibrant
eyes turned a simple smirk into something sexy and arousing. “Did you miss the lack of material at the end of this skirt or have you yet to make it past my breasts?”
“They are nice breasts,” he said.
She shook her head, fighting a grin. Unsuccessfully. The corners of her mouth lifted
and it was all Jack could do not to pull her into his arms and kiss her ‘til she begged him to fuck her.
Ah hell.
He sighed. He wanted her in the worst way. The feeling was strong, unrelenting.
More powerful than anything he’d ever experienced. There was something about
Manhattan that made his cock stiffen to an unbearable degree. With just a smile. In fact, he ought to untuck his shirt and cover his erection. Thank God the parking lot was
dimly lit.
“Well, you won’t win any awards for couth,” she told him, “but I’ll give you points
for charisma.”
“Right back at ya, darlin’,” he said with a wink, once again expending more effort
than normal to keep his hormones in check and his cock from busting through the
buttons of his jeans.
Her smile widened. “You’re a bit of a smart ass.”
“And they say only opposites attract.”
Crouching down—and fighting a wince that move created—he reached toward the
undercarriage of the truck and gave a swift pull along the bottom edge. A flash of metal caught the moonlight and a second later, a silver rung hung below the passenger’s seat.
Jack stepped away from the vehicle, crossing his arms over his chest in a smug way
while she moved forward.
“Still happy to lend a hand.” How could he resist?
“Tempting,” she muttered, but didn’t take the bait.
She reached for the bar above the seat with the hand not holding her purse and
carefully placed one pointy-tipped shoe on the silver loop. How the hell she could wear shoes that looked as if they cut the circulation off at the toes was beyond him. Though he had to admit, she looked damn fine in the sexy green snakeskin pumps.
A lift and a push and she managed to slide gracefully into the tan leather seat while keeping her legs closed and what Jack hoped to be black-lace thong panties under
wraps.
Lord did he hope like hell she’d show them off at some point!
He closed the door and stepped away from the truck. Away from temptation.
Granted, he hadn’t gotten laid in a long while—his own doing—but still… He was
reacting to her like a horny teenager.
Really, it wasn’t like Jack to chase after a woman the way he was doing with her.
Hell yes, he could be back in the saloon helping to close up and prepare for tonight’s 23
Calista Fox
invitation-only after-hours’ poker game. Yet as soon as she’d turned on those ultra-high heels and sauntered off, her softly rounded hips swaying provocatively, he’d known he wasn’t letting her walk out of his life so easily.
Not until he got to know her better. Found out what she was running from. And if
he was damn lucky, get his fill of her in the process.
He rounded the front end of the truck to the driver’s side. A glance over the
shoulder confirmed her gaze followed his every move, making him feel cocky and
stealthy. He climbed into the cab beside her, thinking at some point he’d get around to asking her name. Telling her his. But he kept to the anonymity she seemed to enjoy,
which was one more sign she was just looking for a good time.
So why was he fighting it? Why was he expending so much energy trying to figure
her out? Considering the obvious attraction between them, wasn’t it inevitable they’d hook up eventually?
Why put off ‘til tomorrow the woman he could be doing tonight?
Jack groaned as he fired up the truck. It revved like his internal engine. Being
saintly didn’t come easy to him. Women took one look at him and either did or didn’t. It wasn’t difficult to spot which ones were first-string starters and which ones were
benchwarmers.
But Manhattan had him all spun up. Contradicting and confusing himself. Making
him think yes, and then minutes later, no.
He’d never invested this much mental contemplation into his course of action.
There was something about this woman that made him want to make the right choice
from the get-go. Because he sensed she wasn’t one to grant a second chance if he blew it.
Backing the truck out of its designated parking spot, he said, “Cottage off Wilder