Slow Hand Luke. Debbi Rawlins

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Slow Hand Luke - Debbi  Rawlins

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as he passed the car he saw her—a woman, slim, with long, dark, wavy hair. Standing in the beam of the headlights.

      “Damn.” He couldn’t leave her out here.

      But then again…

      He turned the truck around.

       2

      “D AMN IT!”

      Annie slapped at the fourth mosquito that had assailed her in the past two minutes, and watched the truck speed by. Too bad she didn’t have her gun. She’d shoot the dumb tires. Before she could get her purse and start hoofing it toward town, she saw the truck turn around.

      She sighed with relief. Although the driver could be an axe murderer. Terrific thought. Nah, this was Texas hill country, not Brooklyn. Not that she was foolish enough not to worry some. But walking for ten miles in the dark didn’t seem smart, either.

      The white pickup coasted to a stop beside her. She couldn’t see the driver until he reached over and opened the passenger door. The interior light was dim, but not enough to shadow his vivid blue eyes.

      “Seems you have a problem, darlin’,” he said in a slow easy drawl. His sexy smile gave her a shiver where it had no business.

      “I don’t suppose you’d be able to give me a tow out of that ditch.”

      “Nope. Too dark. And I don’t have any rope. But I can give you a ride to town. Got two gas stations there.”

      “Open at this time of night?”

      “Nope. Hop in.”

      “Give me a minute to get my bag.” By the time she opened the car door, he’d gotten out of his truck and met her there. His right shoulder brushed across her breasts as he beat her to the bag sitting on the back seat.

      “You travel mighty light for a woman,” he said as he hauled out the black nylon overnighter. “That’s refreshing.”

      “That’s sexist.”

      “Just speaking from experience.” He gave her one of those sexy smiles again.

      Her left calf tickled as if something had crawled up under her jeans. Probably nothing, but she leaned down and rubbed through the denim anyway. “I’m Annie Corrigan, by the way.”

      He hesitated. “Luke. Where you headed?”

      “Hasting’s Corner. Well, actually to my aunt’s ranch on the other side of town.”

      “What’s her name?”

      “Marjorie Wilson.”

      “Oh, yeah, the widow woman.”

      “You know her?”

      Either he hadn’t heard her or he chose to ignore the question. He opened the truck’s passenger door and waited until she climbed in, then closed it before stowing her bag in the back and getting behind the wheel.

      “She’s in the hospital,” Annie said. “Having some tests done.”

      “Sorry to hear that.”

      “So you live around here?”

      “Used to.” That’s all he said.

      Fine with Annie. She didn’t feel like talking, either. She was tired, sticky hot from the humidity, and a little worried about what she’d find when she got to the ranch. She knew it wasn’t a big production. From what she remembered, besides the cows and chickens and a few stray dogs, Aunt Marjorie sometimes used to board horses. Hopefully, Chester had everything under control. It wasn’t as if Annie could do much, unless given direction.

      God, she should’ve ignored Aunt Marjorie and headed straight for Houston. She should’ve called Chester from there, made sure everything was all right and then gone to be with her aunt. Generally, she was more rational than this acting first and thinking later business. Of course, it wouldn’t be too late to go to Houston in the morning. Provided she got the dumb rental car out of the ditch.

      She glanced over at Luke. He kept his gaze on the road, his brows slightly puckered. His mind was definitely somewhere else. Maybe she’d made him late for something. Probably a hook up; he was a real hottie. Perfect eyes, perfect lips, the lower one fuller than the top one, just the way she liked them.

      And, oh, mama, she’d seen the way he filled out those faded jeans. With his hat and cowboy boots, he definitely had the whole thing going on. Lisa would have been all over him by now.

      “I really appreciate you stopping,” she said, after staring at him for too long. “I’d been standing there a while.”

      He looked over at her, almost as if he’d forgotten that she was sitting there. How flattering. Then he gave her a lazy, sexy smile and all was forgotten. “No problem, darlin’. Happy to help a pretty lady in distress.”

      “Oh, brother.”

      He cocked a brow at her.

      She coyly put a hand to her mouth. “Oops. Did I say that out loud?”

      His lips curved and then he laughed, a full rich sound that resonated in the cab of the truck and warmed her in uncomfortably intimate places.

      She turned back to the road and gripped the dashboard. “Look out!”

      Caught by the headlights, a deer stood frozen in the middle of the road. Luke swerved, but clipped the animal on the hind end. It started to dart but fell to the pavement.

      “Shit!” He stopped the truck, threw it into Park and got out.

      The doe got to her feet and then dropped her hind end again.

      Annie climbed out behind Luke who’d already knelt beside the animal.

      “Steady, girl,” he whispered. “Let’s take a look here.”

      The deer jerked, and tried again to get up.

      “What can I do?” Annie asked.

      He ignored her, his attention solely on the doe. He gently touched the animal’s flank and whispered something Annie couldn’t hear. The doe seemed to calm down enough for him to probe her leg, his large tanned hand stroking the area, prompting a surprisingly lusty reaction from Annie.

      His fingers were long and lean, his nails clean and nicely squared off. Easy to imagine them roaming over a woman’s body. Her body. She cleared her throat.

      At the sound, the doe started. Then she leaped to her feet and darted into the trees.

      Luke got up just as suddenly, and Annie didn’t have time to step out of his way. To keep them from colliding, she put a hand on his shoulder. As he straightened, her palm slid down his forearm. Firm rounded muscles lay beneath the blue Western-cut shirt. The man was definitely athletic. She let go, hoping her reluctance didn’t show too much.

      He

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