“Yes, you said that the other night. Is that what you came to tell me?” she asked.
“No, it’s not.” Perhaps he should be honest. “I came because I thoroughly enjoy being with you. I lo—I like your wit, your sense of humor, your spunk. And you’ve made my time in Horseback Hollow most pleasant.”
“Pleasant? I hope that’s more complimentary in London than I’m taking it about now.”
“I’m sorry for the language barrier we seem to have, but yes, I find myself thinking of you at all times of the day and night. And when I do, those thoughts make me smile.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Jensen, because I feel the same way. When I first met you at Quinn’s house the day after Christmas, I didn’t like you. And I thought we’d have issues if we ever met again. But I actually like tangling with you.”
He laughed. “Tangling, huh?”
“Yep.”
They sat there for a moment, side by side on the hay. Then he reached out, took her hand and felt the work-roughened palm he’d come to admire.
“Is that why you wanted to be alone? So you could tell me that?”
He pondered the wisdom of pure honesty, but only for a moment. The lack of pretense was what he liked best about his relationship with Amber. And yes, it had become more than a friendship lately, although he wasn’t entirely sure how much more.
“Actually,” he admitted, “I wanted us to be alone so I could tell you that I wouldn’t mind...”
He’d never been at a loss for words with women before, but this was different. Amber was different. And not in the most obvious of ways.
“You wouldn’t mind what?” she asked.
Now it was his turn to grin. “Tangling with you tonight.”
At that, she turned to him, her lips parting. “You want to argue and banter?”
“No, not at all. I didn’t mean sparring verbally.” He brushed a kiss across her lips—lightly, tentatively. “There are other ways to tangle. Like this.”
“When put that way, I’d be agreeable to tangling with you.” She broke into a pretty grin, transforming the saloon girl into a... Hell, he wasn’t sure what, exactly, but princess certainly came to mind.
“This barn wouldn’t be conducive to what I’d actually had in mind,” he said, “but if you give me a little time, I’ll plan a romantic evening. That is, if you don’t mind a temporary fling with a man who finds you an amazing, intriguing and delightful woman.”
With that, she gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m up for a temporary tangle, even though I’m not into one-night stands or casual affairs. But I’ve come to care for you, Jensen. And because we live in different worlds, there doesn’t seem to be any other way for us to see where our kisses might lead.”
“So you’d be okay with a no-strings attached affair?”
“To be honest, if you leave town and I never see you again, I’d always regret not knowing what we might have shared—even if it’s just a one-time thing.”
“Then I’ll find us a perfect romantic getaway.”
“No need to do that. I have one available—right here, right now.”
In a dirty, dusty barn? Surely she wasn’t serious.
But when she placed her hand on his cheek, he realized that she was indeed serious. And with that gentle touch, the slight roughness of her palm uncovered a raw desire that sent his hormones soaring and his blood racing, and he realized he’d agree to anything she suggested.
“Come with me.” She stood and took his hand, walking toward a ladder that led to the hayloft.
As Amber led Jensen up the steps, as he watched the sway of her hips, he was glad that he’d thought to bring a condom with him. Not that he planned to have need of one tonight, but he didn’t take chances. And he’d...well, he’d hoped something like this would happen, although he’d never expected to have a saloon girl suggest that they make love in a hayloft.
Still, he found the whole idea rather exciting.
When they reached the top rung, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Several quilts had been spread over the hay-littered flooring near a rickety nightstand that held a battery-operated lantern and a portable radio.
For a moment, he had to wonder if she’d been expecting him and had planned to invite him to join her here all along.
“I haven’t been up here in a year or longer,” Amber said, “so it might be a little dusty. But it’s comfy.”
Rodeo posters of cowgirls lined the walls, and a small bookshelf held several paperbacks and a stack of magazines.
“This was my hideout when I was a teenager. I used to come up here to read and think. And often just to dream.” She shrugged, then strode over to the nightstand and turned on the lantern, as well as the radio, which played the sounds of soft rock. “It might not seem like much to you, but it was a castle in a faraway land to me back then.”
“It looks pretty special to me now.”
And so did she.
As they stood in the hayloft, in the yellowed glow of the old lamp, he felt rather heroic, like a Western sheriff who’d fought the bad guys and returned to town after earning the right to woo his lady’s heart.
Her heart? All daydreaming aside, their reality didn’t allow him the luxury of assessing the emotions involved, although admittedly they were brewing under the surface.
But right now, all he could think about was how lovely and alluring Amber was, dressed in that sexy red satin and looking at him as though she was feeling every bit as aroused and tempted as he was.
He reached out and unpinned her hair, allowing it to fall along her bare shoulders and down her back. She smiled, then scooped her soft curls aside and turned so he could unzip her costume. He took a moment to linger, to inhale her peach blossom scent and to graze his fingers along her skin.
Finally, he reached for the zipper. As the garment opened and slipped to the ground, she turned to face him wearing a black strapless bra and matching panties. His breath caught. The cowgirl had morphed into a goddess, a sight to behold.
Her body, curvaceous yet lithe, was everything he’d imagined it to be and more.
Talk about fantasies coming to fruition. But for the life of him, this was one fantasy he never wanted to end.
* * *
As Jensen drew Amber back into his arms and claimed her with a heated kiss, she leaned into him, ready to give him all she had to offer—and to take whatever he was willing to give.
If the kisses they’d shared had been a sample of what was to come, making love with Jensen was going to be magical—memorable. Yet it wasn’t just a sexual act. Not as far as she was
