whipped around, and her black, fathomless eyes met his, giving his pulse an erratic beat. He scanned her full, sultry lips, her high, exotic cheekbones, the feminine curves of her breasts. And damned if she didn’t still get to him, even after all these years. From her dusky skin and erotic mouth to the intelligence in her sooty eyes, she called to something inside him, appealing to him in a visceral, primitive way.
And memories flashed back before he could stop them—Bethany riding beside him into the mountains, her satiny hair streaming behind her like a sensual flag. Bethany digging with him for arrowheads, her white teeth flashing as she laughed. Bethany poised above him, her tawny skin bathed by moonlight as they made love beneath the stars.
As a teenager, she’d burned him alive. She’d sparked a craving in him he couldn’t resist. And he’d never experienced anything remotely like it since.
Realizing he was already half aroused, he scowled. After the day he’d had, Bethany was the last person he needed to deal with. “What are you doing here?” he said, his voice roughened by fatigue.
Her full mouth flattened. She flicked her head, swinging her long, straight hair over her back. “Brushing my father’s horse.”
Obviously. His frown deepened. She lifted her chin, her eyes sparking fire, a sure indication that he’d ticked her off. Then she hung up the brush on a peg in the stall and pushed past him out the door, her soft scent curling around him like a taunt. “Bethany …”
She spun around. “I’m only here to take care of my father, okay? I’m not going to bother you.”
The hell she wouldn’t. Just seeing her stirred up feelings he didn’t want to deal with, memories he had no desire to relive. His temples suddenly pounding, he crossed his arms. “I was just surprised to see you. I never expected you to come back to Maple Cove, considering how anxious you were to leave.”
“Anxious?” She shot him an incredulous look. “I had no choice. You knew I couldn’t stay here.”
She meant she wouldn’t stay. But no one ever did. His own temper rising, he lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “It was none of my business what you did.”
“Yes, you made that clear.” She shook her head, and a weary look replaced the temper in her eyes. “Don’t worry, Cole. I’m only here for the next two weeks. I’ll be sure to stay out of your way.” She turned on her heel and stalked from the barn, her boots rapping the cement floor.
He watched her go, a dull ache battering his skull. Hell. He’d screwed that up royally, putting the perfect cap on an already lousy day.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings. And he hadn’t meant to dredge up the past. She’d just caught him off guard. He was exhausted, hungry, worried about his ranch and his sister. He’d needed time to prepare.
But maybe it was for the best if she was mad. He didn’t need more complications in his life—and she’d only leave again. Besides, they weren’t exactly friends, despite the attraction he still felt. They were former classmates, former lovers … former everything. Whatever they’d shared was over, and there was nothing left to say.
Nothing except sorry. He dragged his hand over his face with a sigh. He owed her an apology, all right. No matter what his mood, she hadn’t deserved to have her head chewed off. But he’d deal with that in the morning.
And then he’d stay as far from Bethany—and temptation—as he could.
Chapter 2
So much for not giving Cole Kelley another thought.
Bethany stood in the pharmacy in the neighboring town of Honey Creek the following morning, berating her lack of control. She’d spent the entire night tossing and turning, reliving every nuance of that strained encounter in the barn. She’d overreacted. She’d let Cole’s vibrant blue eyes demolish her composure, bringing back a flood of rejection and pain. But she hadn’t expected to see him so soon—or that he’d look so impossibly good.
Disgusted with herself, she exhaled, determined not to spend more time thinking about Cole. If she’d learned anything in the years since high school, it was that there were things she couldn’t change. So she’d moved on. She’d made a good life for herself in Chicago. And she had enough to worry about without obsessing over him.
“I’ve got it in stock,” the pharmacist said, returning to the counter where she waited. “But it will be about twenty minutes before I can get to it.”
“That’s fine.” Pulling her mind back to her father’s prescription, Bethany glanced at her watch. “I’ll do some shopping and come back.”
Dead tired from the lack of sleep, she strolled up the narrow aisle of the pharmacy and pushed open the door to the street. It was early, barely nine o’clock, and nothing else was open in Honey Creek except the ranch supply store and Kelley’s Cookhouse, the town’s most popular place to eat.
Yawning, she glanced up the empty main street toward the restaurant, debating whether to get some coffee while she waited for the prescription. She could definitely use the caffeine boost. But Cole’s aunt and uncle owned the cookhouse, and she’d gone there on dates with Cole—memories she didn’t need to stir up.
Another yawn convinced her. She started up the tree-lined sidewalk just as a black, four-wheel-drive pickup pulled up to the restaurant and parked. Cole Kelley climbed out, and Bethany came to a halt.
Her heart somersaulted as he turned toward her. Their eyes met in the morning sunshine, and her traitorous pulse began to race. She shifted her weight, the urge to flee surging inside her, but she forced herself to stay put. She wasn’t going to spend the next two weeks bolting like a startled rabbit whenever she ran into Cole.
He started toward her, his long, determined strides devouring the distance between them. She pasted a neutral expression on her face, refusing to let him see how rattled she felt. But it was hard to feign indifference when the lanky, rangy teen she’d once loved had turned into an impossibly virile man.
She skimmed the wide, thick planks of his shoulders, the intriguing fit of his faded jeans. Years of ranch work had broadened his neck and back, erasing any hint of softness, turning his powerful biceps to steel.
She swallowed around the dust in her throat, her blood humming as he drew near. Cole had certainly aged nicely. And he was no vain Chicago businessman with muscles toned in front of a mirror. He was the real deal, a rugged Montana cowboy, a one-hundred-percent-natural male.
He stopped close enough to touch her, and his startling blue eyes captured hers. Her pulse beating wildly, she scanned his sensual mouth, the strong angles of his rock hard jaw, the lean, tanned planes of his face. Sunshine slanted through the branches of a nearby maple, highlighting the sun kissed streaks in his espresso-colored hair.
“Listen, Bethany …” His deep voice rumbled through her, and she rubbed her arms, trying to quell her response. He had the sexiest voice she’d ever heard, a deep, gravelly rasp that tempted a woman to sin. And when he’d whispered to her in the dark …
She shivered again, battling her reaction. It was conditioning, nothing more, like Pavlov’s dogs. One look at Cole and she instantly thought of sex—which was inevitable, considering the molten affair they’d had.
But
