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There was no harm in admitting it was the best kiss she’d ever experienced.

What would he be like in bed? Tender? Demanding? Exciting. She was certain of that. He would be exciting and maybe a little dangerous and—

“Ms. Wilde?”

Definitely a little dangerous. There was a hint of wildness to him. And—

“’Scuse me, ma’am. Ms. Wilde?”

The spoon fell from Lissa’s fingers and clattered to the tabletop.

“Yes?” she said, forcing a smile for the cowboy with the empty Spam bowl in his hands.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He cleared his throat. “The boys and I jes’ wanted to tell you that this here’s the best meal we’ve had in a long time.”

Lissa blinked.

“Why—why, that’s very kind of you, but I just, you know, I just threw together whatever I found and….” She swallowed hard. She’d have accepted the compliment had it been given for a dish she’d concocted from caviar and blini; why not accept it for something she’d made out of everyday things? “Thank you. Thank you, uh…”

“Ace. I’m Ace, ma’am. And did you say somethin’ about dessert?”

Lissa smiled. “I did, indeed. Do you like apple cobbler?”

“I like apple anything, ma’am.”

“Please. Call me Lissa.”

“Ms. Lissa. Yes ma’am. We all like apple anything.”

She laughed. “That’s the perfect name for what I made,” she said. “Apple Anything.”

Within seconds, all the men were in the kitchen, carrying their empty bowls and plates and spoons, dumping everything in the sink. Another of the men introduced himself as Gus and asked if it was all right if he put up the coffee.

“I was always better at it than Cooky.”

Lissa smiled at the old-fashioned term that had been given to every ranch cook from the start of time.

“That would be great.”

The others took on the job of loading the dishwasher, scrubbing pots and rinsing them.

Everybody was here, except Nick.

Where was he? Not that it mattered; she was curious, that was all. She couldn’t recall seeing the ranch owners of her childhood eating with their men the way Nick had. Had tonight been a one-time occasion? Had he been checking on her ability as a cook? Was his interest over now?

Lots of questions. And no answers, but why would she need answers? She’d be out of here tomorrow. Early. The snow had tapered off to flurries; the wind had died away.

She was curious, that was all.

Nothing more.

When the kitchen was clean and neat, or as clean and neat as it was going to get without a top-to-bottom scrub, Lissa carried the Apple Anything to the dining room table. Ace followed with bowls and spoons; Gus brought in the coffee and a bunch of chipped mugs.

Shyly, Ace asked if she’d like to have her dessert with them.

She didn’t hesitate.

“I’d be honored,” she said.


Tags: Sandra Marton The Wilde Sisters Erotic