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“Were you afraid tonight?” he asked.
She flashed him one of her rare smiles. “Terrified, especially when you left me. I never knew I had so much adrenaline in my body.”
He returned her smile and stood. “I’ll just get out of here so you can sleep off some of that adrenaline.”
“Okay.” She walked with him to the door.
He turned to tell her good-night and she stood too close to him. Her heady scent surrounded him as he remembered holding her in his arms when they’d danced.
He wasn’t sure if he spoke her name or not, but suddenly she was in his arms and his mouth was on hers. He hadn’t asked permission. He hadn’t even consciously made the decision to kiss her. It had just happened.
Someplace in the back of his mind he knew it was a foolish thought, and with regret he halted the kiss and pulled back from her.
“Sorry,” he said. “Just chalk it up to lingering adrenaline.” Without giving her an opportunity to reply he hurried toward his Jeep.
***
Be sure to check out the next books in this exciting miniseries:
Cowboys of Holiday Ranch— Where sun, earth and hard work turn men into rugged cowboys … and irresistible heroes!
Cowboy of Interest
Carla Cassidy
CARLA CASSIDY is a New York Times bestselling author who has written more than one hundred books for Mills & Boon. Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write. She’s looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to readers.
MILLS & BOON
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Contents
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Nick Coleman needed to get drunk. Not buzzed, not loopy, but brain-dead, blackout drunk. It was the only respite he might find from the vision burned into his head of seeing Wendy Bailey’s dead body stuffed under the floorboards of an old shed on the ranch where Nick worked.
He’d been responsible in his plan to drink himself into oblivion. He’d contacted his good friend Chad Bene from a neighboring ranch to pick him up, bring him here to the Watering Hole and then make sure Nick got back to his bunkhouse on the Holiday Ranch safe and sound.
Chad nursed a soda while Nick motioned to the waitress for a second beer. “You know, getting stupid drunk isn’t going to change things, except that tomorrow you’re going to wake up and feel as though you’ve wrestled with the biggest, meanest bull in the entire county,” Chad observed.
“But at least maybe tonight I’ll sleep without nightmares,” Nick replied. It had been three days since Wendy’s body had been found, along with six older skeletal remains. It had been three long nights of sleep haunted by the visions of the vivacious black-haired, blue-eyed twenty-three-year-old who had blown into town two months before and instantly attached herself to Nick like an affectionate little sister.
And now she was gone...dead. According to the coroner, she had been stabbed twice in the chest. She had been murdered. If that wasn’t horrific enough, Nick knew he was the prime suspect in her murder.
Janis Little, the waitress serving their small two-top table, brought Nick a fresh cold bottle of beer and gave him a quick, sympathetic pat on his shoulder before going back behind the bar to serve other awaiting customers.
At least Janis apparently didn’t see him as a murderer, he thought, but that didn’t take away
