Marriage For Sale. CAROL DEVINE

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      Her expression softened, blossoming into one of complete understanding. “Linc, if you were a man of unsavory character, you would not have bothered to purchase me, a complete stranger to you.”

      Such unshakable conviction was going to land her in plenty of hot water if she wasn’t careful. “Maybe I’m not as noble as you think.”

      He wound strong fingers around her wrist and guided the tips of her fingers to his mouth. Baring his teeth, he let the edges caress each fingertip. Only it wasn’t a caress. Her whole body stiffened at the flood of sensation. Every pore seemed to ignite, licking her skin like candle flame, leaving moisture in its wake in the same way his teeth left moisture, and his tongue. The tip tickled the pads of her fingers and slid between them, the heat of him equal to the heat breaking out on her brow.

      Her heart heated, too, pounding like a hammer on an anvil, singing in her ears. Breathing became impossible, much less speaking. Besides, what was there to say? Every fiber of her being felt fired from within. She scarcely knew what to do, where to look. In spite of the fact that she was seated, support fled her limbs. Most shocking of all was the urge to bring his fingers to her lips and bare her teeth to him as well.

      Loath to show her complete ignorance as to how to respond to him, she licked dry lips. The forest color of his eyes, so near, pooled with sudden obsidian.

      All breath fled from her then. Suspended by the oddest sense of anticipation, her whole body shivered in awareness of him. And he of her, she instinctively sensed.

      His grip on her wrist diminished as his thumb stroked the inner skin. His muscles coiled like her own, readying for what, she didn’t know. But she wanted to find out. Oh, how she wanted to find out.

      The sharp bang of hooves hit metal. Rachel jumped, but it was Linc who understood what was happening. He shot from the truck before Rachel could get her limp legs moving.

      “Summer!” she gasped.

      By the time she levered the door open and leaped to the ground, Linc had slid open the trailer’s paneled window and peered inside. “Damn horse.”

      “Is she all right?”

      “She’s restless as hell. We better get moving. I don’t want to take a chance on her injuring herself.” Without wasting a moment, Linc grasped Rachel by the elbow and hoisted her into the truck. “You’re going to get your wish, little lady. To the ranch we go. I don’t have time to fool around with you and the filly, too.”

      Was that what he was doing? Making a fool of her? she wondered.

      Linc was gratified to have finally hit on a strategy that left her speechless, and he filed the information away for future use. He wasn’t sure what was going on in that incomprehensible mind of hers, but he aimed to do whatever was necessary to ensure her prompt departure from his life.

      He certainly wasn’t going to let her stay at his ranch. It was a good thing, too. He had no intention of letting this woman get close to him. Normally he didn’t go for the naive type. Rachel, however, presented an interesting combination of traits. Twenty-eight-year-old virgins didn’t grow on trees, especially virgins with her head-turning looks. In fact, he might have questioned the virginity claim—until he had kissed her. Rachel didn’t know how to kiss. She didn’t know how to hide that fact, either, despite her apparent determination to hold onto her poise and ignore the slings and arrows of a bunch of narrow-minded hicks.

      Rachel still blushed for heaven’s sake. Her eyes still widened in sensual awareness. Linc felt his own eyes narrow at the prospect of helping her discover where such awareness could lead. He was, after all, a normal, red-blooded American male. Those shallow, excited pants she took when he had kissed her damn near burst the buttons on his jeans.

      A stolen moment or two was the only satisfaction he was going to get from this deal, however, and he knew it. The confinement of committed relationships didn’t appeal to him in the least. It was bad enough he had to go through with the charade of a wedding ceremony to get her out of The Community.

      Unfortunately, he was getting the feeling that she was taking the marriage bit way too seriously. His work was cut out for him. Even though he had taken great pains before the wedding ceremony to explain his intentions—or lack thereof—he was unsure if Rachel understood how little the wedding vows meant to him. The whole idea of staying committed to one person for an entire lifetime didn’t make sense. Human beings just weren’t built that way. His wild and wooly days on the rodeo circuit proved it—or more accurately, his wild and wooly nights. Harsh experience told him that most women were no more inclined toward fidelity than he was, a lesson he’d learned the hard way.

      To spare Rachel the same lesson, he would give her some hints about his true nature. After all, she needed to learn how to handle herself with guys like him before he sent her out in the cold, cruel world.

      “How many times have you been to Tall Timber?” he asked.

      “None.”

      “None?”

      “None,” she reiterated, still smarting from the disconcerting thought that Linc was merely fooling around with her.

      “Have you been to any other towns?”

      “No.”

      “Cities?”

      She sensed his searching glance and shook her head.

      “What about the other members of The Community?”

      “Other than health emergencies where specialized doctors are required, traveling outside The Community is simply not done.”

      “Don’t people need to buy tools and other farming equipment?”

      “Tools and other implements are forged by blacksmiths. What can’t be made is delivered.”

      “What about food, groceries?”

      “We grow our own food.”

      “All of it?”

      “What we can’t grow we trade for at the Hudson Valley co-op with our canned goods.” Somewhat mollified by his interest, Rachel relented, expanding her answer. “Our pickled peppers and mint-flavored peaches are in much demand.”

      “You can’t preserve all your food. What about refrigeration?”

      “The refrigeration you are referring to requires electric power. The use of such power is discouraged in order to maintain the connection to the land and the values of simplicity that go with it. However, I am familiar with gas heat. The elders encourage its use in our homes because the winters in Montana are so long and cold.”

      “Isn’t that against the so-called rules?”

      “We have adopted some modern conveniences to protect from the worst of winter weather. The safekeeping of the oldest and youngest is of primary importance in all families, wouldn’t you agree?”

      “Does that mean you have indoor plumbing?”

      “Each farmhouse has an individual pipe which delivers clean water.”

      “So old Granny Isaacs has to trot to the outhouse

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