up—physically or emotionally—at the moment. She was too tired. But neither did she have the heart to ignore Vance on his birthday.
Wincing, she hobbled to the door to find Vance holding two foam boxes.
“A late dinner and a slice of birthday cake.” He invited himself inside then surveyed her apartment approvingly. “This is where Steph lived until she hooked up with Cousin Q. You’ve fixed it up nice.”
Miranda blinked. “This is where you strung all the colored lights and removed all the furniture, save the bed?”
“Yup,” he said as he walked over to set the containers on the small drop-leaf table. “Deep down, Quint appreciated the prank. He and Steph didn’t show their faces in public for three days. Good thing I stocked the kitchen with enough food to tide them over during their lovefest.”
“Considerate of you, joker,” she said, lips twitching.
“That’d be me. Considerate, helpful and cheerful.” He motioned her to the table. “Come take a load off. Bet you didn’t bother with supper, did you, Ms. Super-Duper Cop?”
When Miranda shook her head he sighed then said, “That figures. Now sit down and eat. I’ll fix you a drink.”
Miranda sank tiredly into the chair and lifted the lid of the box. The appetizing aroma made her mouth water and her empty stomach growl in anticipation.
Vance thrust a fork and glass of ice water at her. “No booze in the fridge,” he observed. “You a teetotaler?”
Miranda nodded, her attention fixed on the fabulous food.
“Great, Patti Perfect, you have no flaws or vices whatsoever, I suppose?” he asked as he straddled the vacant chair backward and draped his arms across the back.
“Overachiever,” she mumbled between delicious bites.
“Already pegged you as that,” he replied with a smile and a wink. “You’ve got the face of an angel and the heart of a lion. Anything else I should know about you since we’ll be partners on my ranch and on your police beat?”
“Single-minded dedication,” she admitted before she wet her whistle. “Strong sense of fair play and strict attention to rules and regulations.” She peeked up at him from beneath her lashes. “Usually. You’re the exception. I suffered momentary lapses of sanity during our first few confrontations and now we’re both paying for it. Sorry about that.”
“You’re forgiven,” he said with a chuckle. “What else? What about scandalous affairs with married men that put you on this straight and narrow path to pursue this honorable quest for perfection?”
“None of your beeswax, buster,” she said darkly.
“What about a boyfriend waiting in the big city to slide a ring on your finger after you’ve landed a job alongside your dad and brothers?” he quizzed her.
She arched a brow at that. “I didn’t realize you were an expert at investigation and interrogation.”
When he grinned she inwardly groaned at the radioactive impact this man had on her. He was pure hell on her defenses.
“Turnabout is fair play, I always say. My cousins told me that you grilled them for information about me today.”
Miranda took offense. “I most certainly did not! They spilled their guts with no encouragement from me. They talked and I listened.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Answer the question.”
“No, there’s no man waiting in the wings or anywhere else for that matter. I’ve focused entirely on my career.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I figure that a girl raised by a family of cops will turn out one of two ways. Either she’ll run wild in rebellious defiance or she’ll try to live up to her family’s noble calling and become the personification of excellence.” He stared her straight in the eye. “You’d be the do-it-right rule-follower, correct?”
“What is this? Your countrified version of the Spanish Inquisition?” she asked huffily. “Look, I’m tired and I can’t deal with you when I’m not at my best. You require too much energy and mental attention. Can we call it a night?”
He smiled at her defensive tone. “Okay, I’ll stop teasing you. But there’s just one more thing, Calamity Jane.”
Her breath clogged in her throat when he made her mouth the focus of his profound concentration. Oh, God, she couldn’t deal with the sensuality that radiated off him in tidal waves, especially when she was weary and vulnerable. She might slip off this righteous pedestal her family designed for her. It would be so easy to fall—for him.
Miranda fidgeted nervously when his eyes, like hypnotic obsidian flames, bore down on her from beneath that thick fringe of long lashes. “You aren’t going to do something stupid, like kiss me, are you?” she asked, her voice wavering with the internal conflict of wanting and not wanting.
“Darlin’,” he said with a killer smile, “stupidity became my middle name when I met you. I haven’t been the same since.”
And then he was hoisting her from her chair and wrapping those sinewy arms around her like a warm cocoon. The instant her body came into full contact with his muscular length her hormones leaped into full-scale riot—and he hadn’t even kissed her yet. He just kept staring at her with those eyes that were as dark and shiny as the devil’s own temptation. Apparently he was waiting for her to pitch a fit if she didn’t want to be kissed. The choice, it seemed, was hers to make.
She really should object, should push him back into his own space. Or better yet, give him the benefit of her self-defense techniques by breaking his hold. But like an idiot she just focused her curious attention on that tempting mouth and wondered if he’d give her a hit-and-run kiss or suck her into the vortex of sensuality that went by the name of Vance Ryder.
Hit-and-run would’ve been much easier on her senses, she decided after his mouth slanted over hers in gentle possession. But in less than a heartbeat the tenderness melted beneath an eruption of desire that Miranda had tried to pretend didn’t exist between them. But there it was, right in her face, burning in the pit of her stomach, channeling in all directions at once, making her crave the forbidden.
Suddenly she was arching into him and he was pressing her hips against his as his tongue delved deeper to taste her completely. The world wobbled on its axis and her brain short-circuited. Sensation after fiery sensation blazed through her weary body, regenerating energy and heat that fed on themselves until the intensity of it set her aflame. Wow! Kissing Vance was like being caught in a thermonuclear blast!
She was kissing him back with frantic desperation, clawing at the pearl snaps on his Western shirt, needing to explore the hard muscled wall of his chest. In response, he tugged the hem of her shirt from her slacks and skimmed his hands over her waist—without breaking the fervent kiss.
Someone moaned in helpless surrender. She prayed that it wasn’t her. She’d never caved in like this before, never wanted to gobble a man alive the way she wanted to feast her hands and lips on Vance.
Before she realized it she was sitting in the empty foam box of food and wearing his birthday cake on her butt. But it didn’t matter because his skillful
