her through the flimsy fabric of her bra. The nearly intolerable burning sensations got even worse.
He raised his head and said, “Damn, woman, I knew you set me off, but not quite like this.”
He delivered another lip-blistering kiss as he wedged his hips between her legs and pressed closer. He was hard as stone and she was hot and aching and craving the intimate contact like a hopeless addict. Sweet mercy! Who was this woman who was climbing all over this gorgeous hunk of cowboy and begging for more? This turbocharged male was gunning down her usual inhibitions like crumbling clay pigeons at a trap shoot. She’d been the farthest thing from a pushover—until Vance Ryder invaded her world and introduced her to combustible desire.
Miranda couldn’t breathe without inhaling the scent of him, couldn’t think past the web of pleasure he weaved around her like a sorcerer’s spell. Her head fell back as his hot, moist lips glided down the column of her neck and his roaming hands slid upward to cup her breasts. She gasped when she felt his mouth against one bare nipple then the other. He flicked at her with his tongue and she whimpered in aroused torment.
The room spun in dizzying circles as his lips scorched a fiery path up her throat and over her flushed cheeks to reclaim her mouth. His kiss was so demanding and possessive that she felt as if she’d had the wind knocked out of her—just like this morning, only a zillion times worse. When he pressed his hips precisely into the cradle of her thighs she arched helplessly against him. Then she kissed him as if there was no tomorrow—and he was her last request.
Miranda was shocked by the intense feelings of wild desperation and desire that hammered at her. Shocked but powerless to defend against sensations of overwhelming need that rocked her. Then, when she felt so completely out of control that she was on the verge of screaming: Take me—now—because I can’t stand not knowing what it would be like to be swept away by you, he lifted his head and stepped away.
Vance gasped for air and willed his shaky legs not to fold up beneath him. He stared at the enticing sight of her partially bared body and felt another blast of unholy desire rip through him. She’d braced her elbows on the table where he’d deposited her. Her long shapely legs were still spread to accommodate him when he’d eased himself against her because not being as close as he could get—even while fully clothed—had not been an acceptable option.
Holy kamoley! he thought as he stared into her wide green eyes and watched her breasts heave in attempt to draw breath. Nothing had ever hit Vance this hard so fast and just kept coming at him like bullets spitting from a howitzer. Damn, there was nothing leisurely or casual about his desire for Randi and the intensity of these feelings shocked him.
As birthday kisses went, this one took the cake. Literally. Thanks to him, she was sitting in it.
Dazed by his wild, instantaneous reaction to her, burning from this obsessive need to have her, right here, right now, Vance stumbled back a step. He told himself to breathe, to clear his head and not to look at her for another second or he’d lose control all over again.
He wheeled around and stared at the door while his body throbbed with unappeased desire. “Thanks for throwing me the party,” he croaked. “That was…uh…mighty…uh…nice of you.” He cleared his throat. “See ya tomorrow.”
And then he was outta there. Running for his life, to be more accurate. He was afraid to stand still too long for fear the unleashed emotions she incited would overtake him and send him racing back inside her apartment to finish what he never should have started.
Damnation, he’d known she was intensely passionate about her job, but he hadn’t expected to be dragged into that turbulent undercurrent of emotion he’d tapped into. She’d set him on fire and he was very much afraid that he couldn’t run fast enough, or far enough, to douse the flames of wanting her that were burning in his wake.
Vance inhaled a bracing breath of cool evening air. He desperately needed to find a place to cool off—pronto.
FILLED WITH PURPOSE the next day, Vance climbed from his truck to approach his cousins who were waiting for him at Quint’s ranch. “You gotta help me out,” he said without preamble.
“With what?” Wade asked as he draped his arms over the corral fence behind him.
“I want one of you to haul Randi around in your pickup while we’re repairing fences this morning.”
Quint’s lips pursed in amusement. “Why’s that? Does it have something to do with the fact that you borrowed my truck to swing by her apartment last night after the party?”
“Did something happen we should know about?” Wade razzed him.
Something had definitely happened and it had kept Vance tossing, turning and breaking out in a cold sweat all night.
“Did she give you a birthday kiss that was too hot for you to handle? Could it be that the joker’s wild about the gorgeous cop and he’s running scared?” Quint quizzed him unmercifully.
“Oh, shut up,” Vance said with a scowl.
His cousins erupted in gales of laughter, made smacking noises with their lips, and then cackled again. Muttering under his breath, Vance wheeled toward the barn to gather barbwire and fence posts. By the time Randi showed up for work Vance intended to be ready to leave. He couldn’t take much more of his cousins’ teasing.
And they called him the joker of the family? Well, there was nothing amusing about the intimate images of Randi that he’d been seeing the whole livelong night. She’d had the starring role in his hottest fantasies.
He’d gone to his cousins in desperate need of help and they’d tormented him unmercifully.
What he needed was a day away from temptation and it looked as if he wouldn’t get it. He’d have to sit on his hands to keep them off her, he decided grimly. Today was going to be the ultimate test of restraint and he’d better pass it. How? He had no idea. After last night wanting her had become a constant thing, a gnawing craving that wouldn’t go away.
“It’s gonna be one hell of a day,” Vance growled as he tossed the fencing tools and supplies in the clunker truck.
BRIGHT AND EARLY IN THE MORNING, Miranda approached her uncle’s home. “Uncle Tate, I need a favor,” she announced when Tate opened the door and motioned her inside.
“What’s up, kiddo?” he asked curiously. “I have to be at headquarters in a few minutes, so make it snappy.”
Miranda glanced around the tidy, compact home and hesitated in making brief eye contact. “I request some other form of reprimand for my involvement…I mean my unprofessional behavior for ticketing Vance and tossing him in jail.”
Tate smiled as he appraised her rigid, military stance. She tried to relax but just couldn’t get it done.
“Some assignments aren’t to our liking, you know. Difficult as this might be, it’s good exercise in self-restraint.”
“Yes, sir, I understand, but I can’t have Vance in the squad car with me or ride with him in his pickup while commuting from one set of ranch duties to the next.”
“Too close for comfort?” he asked perceptively.
He didn’t know the half of it! Miranda could feel the heat streaming into her cheeks when flashbacks of her reckless behavior last
