Cowboy Courage. Judy Duarte
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They both sat on the floor, facing each other. Laurie, legs folded Indian-style, rested her arms on the coffee table. Cole, legs extended and crossed at the ankles, leaned back, hands braced at his sides. Desire stilled the conversation.
Outside, the rain had softened to a light whisper. Inside, a slow fire continued to flicker and crackle upon oak logs in the fireplace. But it was the storm raging in her soul that concerned Laurie the most.
When an old country love song began to play, Cole slowly rose to his feet and extended a hand to her. “Dance with me.”
She shouldn’t get too close. Touch him. Hold him. She didn’t trust the strength of her own desire. God knew she didn’t need any complications in her life right now. She had to return to California. Soon. But she didn’t have to go anywhere tonight.
As though mesmerized by something in the depth of those blue eyes, Laurie stood and stepped into Cole’s open arms. They fit together perfectly, and swayed in time to the slow, gentle beat of one sweet moment in time.
One hand held hers against his chest, while the other warmed the small of her back and gently pressed her against him.
Laurie rested her head against his cheek, feeling his soft, warm breath upon her neck. She took a deep breath, savoring the scent of nature, musk and man. Closing her eyes, blending into the music playing softly on the radio, she lost herself in thoughts of love and forever. Of magic and dreams.
It was the merlot, she told herself. And the love song. Their hearts beat softly in time with the romantic, soul-stirring ballad. And once again, she blamed too much wine for the stirring in the pit of her stomach, the warmth in her heart.
The wine and the music increased her awareness of his male scent, caused her nipples to tingle against the broad expanse of his chest, her hips to press closer to his.
But try as she might, Laurie couldn’t still the small voice that whispered she was lying to herself. The wine and music had little to do with the intoxicating magic she felt in this cowboy’s arms.
Cole closed his eyes, and fought the urge to nuzzle Laurie’s neck. To pull her close against his heart. To whisper things he couldn’t possibly mean. To make promises they’d never have time to keep.
He’d gone without sex too long, he reminded himself. A man had needs, and lust drew him to Laurie Smith. But any kind of relationship with a woman like her would bring on emotional complications. And neither Cole nor Beth needed any more disillusions or disappointments.
As they swayed to the beat of the music, Cole couldn’t help but pull her close, press the small of her back to hold her flush against him. Without a doubt, he held more woman than he’d ever held before, but the sooner he let her go, the better. Beth needed stability in her life and a mother-figure she could depend upon. And Cole needed a woman he could trust. A stranger passing through couldn’t be either.
When the song ended, Cole released her. Arms, now empty and useless, hung at his sides. He raked a hand through his hair before crossing his arms casually, hiding a momentary sense of unease. “I suppose I’d better turn in. I’ve got a lot of things to do in the morning.”
She nodded. “I’m pretty tired, myself.”
Later, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, Cole felt very much alone. He knew he could easily have encouraged Laurie to join him, to spend the night in his arms, to wake in his bed. He’d seen the passion blazing in her eyes, a raging desire that matched his own.
All he had to do was ask with his eyes, take her hand in his, lead her to his bedroom down the hall. If she’d told him no, it would have been with regret.
He closed his eyes, but couldn’t shut out the memory of the passionate kiss they’d shared the night before. Something powerful sizzled between them.
Chemistry, some people called it. Cole grimaced at the apt analogy, and tried to convince himself experimenting with passion might prove to be a big mistake. Especially with a woman who would walk out of his life.
Hell, making love to Laurie might damn near blow the roof right off the house. It would be hot, wild and intoxicating. A once-in-a-lifetime affair. But it would also be wrong.
And Cole had always tried his damnedest to do the right thing. Even when it made falling asleep damn near impossible.
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