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Such a sweet, tender gesture, but the gentle force of it landed between her legs like a torpedo. Okay, so maybe the insanity wouldn’t calm itself quite yet.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” Her hands shook as she fumbled in her purse and drew out the key card. Quickly, without looking at him, she slid it into the lock and let herself in, closing the door behind her. She stood alone, leaning against the door, her heart thumping wildly, the heat between her legs aching. Closing her eyes, she felt him on the other side of the door, the hot energy of his body suffusing the barrier between them, reaching out to her. She willed her body to steady itself.

A one-night stand with Zach McCray was the last thing she needed.

* * *

Zach’s body slumped against the door to Dusty’s hotel room, the unsated hunger of his arousal a dead weight in his jeans. Frustrated, he pounded on the door.

“Dusty. Darlin’. Let me in. Please.”

If she heard him, she made no indication. She must have gone in to take a shower or something. Funny, he could have sworn he felt her presence through the door.

“Damn,” he said aloud.

He could still taste the sweet honey of her mouth, smell the fresh spring scent of her. Her lips had parted for him with such innocent ardor, but then she had kissed him like a temptress, a siren. Like no one had ever kissed him before. He groaned. He wanted to break that damn door down, toss her on

the bed, and pound into her, making her his.

But no, he couldn’t. He walked, in pain, to the elevator and made his way to the lobby and then to his rental car.

And back to the hotel for a cold shower.

* * *

For about thirty seconds the next morning, Dusty considered standing Zach up. But she was a polite western girl, and they had made plans to meet and work with Diablo. She really wanted to ride that bull. And, she finally admitted to herself, she wanted to see Zach.

She had no intention of kissing him again. That was a complication she didn’t want in her life right now. No, her interest in Zach McCray was purely bovine in nature. She’d make sure of it.

He was waiting for her by Diablo’s pen, looking sexy as hell in worn Wranglers and a light blue western shirt that matched his left eye. He’d left the expensive ostrich footwear at the hotel. Today he wore a pair of worn brown leather cowboy boots.

“Mornin’, darlin’.” He tipped his Stetson.

“Good morning, yourself,” she said, purposefully avoiding his gaze. She set down the tote bag that held her chaps, vest, glove, and brand new spurs. “Diablo looks pretty mellow today.” She cased the bull’s pen, noting his stance, his attitude.

“He’s always mellow in the morning. That’s why I suggested we meet at this time.” Zach walked over to her and touched her elbow.

How could such an innocent contact make her whole body sizzle? She slowly exhaled and moved away from him.

“Why don’t you tell me what you plan to do?”

“I kind of play it by ear.”

“I see.” He took off his hat and set it on a fence post. “So tell me how you’ll play it by ear. What’s your philosophy?”

Dusty stood her ground. “The most important thing is not to fear the bull. He can sense fear. All animals can.”

“But darlin’, this here’s a big ass bull. Fear is okay.”

“No, it’s not. He’ll know if I’m afraid of him. And I’m not afraid of him.”

“How can you not be?”

“Because I’m not. There are worse things in life than a big bull. Many other things that are worthy of my fear. But not Diablo.”

“You’re something else.” Zach chuckled. “I don’t know any other woman who wouldn’t be afraid of this brute.”

“There’s no reason to be. He doesn’t want to hurt me.”


Tags: Helen Hardt The Temptation Saga Romance