He stopped and turned so abruptly that she walked straight into him. Everything she’d admired earlier was acutely more amazing pressed up against her. He steadied her with a hand on either arm and eased her back, but not before she’d experienced her first dose of gut-clenching lust that tempted her to launch herself back into his arms.
Although that would make a good story to tell my friends.
I thought you said he didn’t call the sheriff when you broke into his house, so how did you end up arrested?
Oh, that happened when I mauled him even after he kept asking me to leave. You would have, too. He was gorgeous.
His hands dropped away and for a moment Sarah forgot why she’d followed him. You know, besides wanting to stare up at him speechlessly and drool for one last time before I leave.
“I can’t let you go . . .” he said.
Thank God.
“. . . until you contact someone. No telling where you’d end up on your own.”
Okay, that last part killed the mood a bit.
Now I remember why I want to write. Reality sucks. Watch out, Mr. Cowboy. When I put you in a book, you’re going to be kissing my feet and begging me to stay. Sarah raised her chin with renewed pride and said, “I’ll call them one more time, but I’m leaving even if they don’t answer. Where I end up is none of your concern.”
Now I sound like a heroine in a romance novel.
Take that, Mr. Sexy Cowboy.
Tony looped his thumbs through his belt and said, “In Texas, if you find someone in your shower, you’re responsible for their welfare for at least twenty-four hours.”
Sarah opened her mouth to argue the point, then cocked her head to the side and asked, “Did you just make another joke?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly. Note to self, dry humor in an otherwise stern character is intriguing—would even be sexy if I wasn’t the butt of his joke.
She defended her arrival. “I wouldn’t be here if all the damn ranches in Texas didn’t have the same name.”
A hint of a smile curled one side of his mouth. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Just give me the phone,” Sarah said and stepped past him.
He caught her arms midstep, spun her, and held her just in front of him. The hot look in his eyes sent another rush of desire through Sarah. He wants me. Her mouth went dry and she flicked her tongue over her bottom lip.
The move caught his eye, but instead of crushing her to him with the kiss she anticipated, he set her back from him again and said, “My number is near the phone if you want your friends to call you back here.”
With that, he turned on his heel and left.
Fanning her face, Sarah picked up the nondescript black phone and reluctantly dialed her friend’s number. Lucy was probably frantic by now. The phone rang once. Then twice.
Or not.
A machine picked up after the fifth ring. “Hi, Lucy. It’s Sarah. I had a little trouble finding your place so I am at—I’m at a friend’s house. Anyway, when you get this message please call me.” She left Tony’s number and hung up the phone.
He wanted me.
I know he did.
Or I’m desperate enough to see only what I want to see . . . like a cattle ranch where there are only horses.
Chapter Three
The cooler evening air helped clear Tony’s head as he leaned against the gate of Scooter’s paddock. That woman has to go. He wasn’t celibate, but the women he’d been with had no illusions about why they were together. He didn’t have to make excuses or pretend to want to stay until morning.
None of them had ever looked up at him with the open innocence of his little blonde intruder. He’d bet money on two things: she was a virgin, and she wanted him. Her interest had been obvious, but in an entirely different way than the bold women he was used to.
A woman like Sarah would think sex came with a commitment. She’d be hurt when I asked her to leave. One night of exploring that tight little body of hers wouldn’t be worth the aggravation that would likely follow. He went instantly, painfully hard as he remembered how she’d looked, mostly naked, in his shower. During his celebrity years, he’d encountered many beautiful women. Women who were taller than Sarah, thinner, more polished. He didn’t remember any of them taking his breath away or scattering his thoughts with a simple smile. Dinner had made the situation worse rather than better and given him an uncomfortable realization: One night wouldn’t be enough.
He sensed her approach even before he heard her soft footsteps, but he didn’t turn to look at her. Her image was already too vivid in his mind, and all he would see was a woman who needed to leave. Now rather than later.
She stepped onto the bottom wooden panel of the paddock fence next to him and leaned forward to call her horse, who met her caressing hand eagerly.