Tall, Tanned & Texan. Kimberly Raye
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He was following her, all right, and she knew just how to prove it and kill the maybe’s once and for all.
An instructor?
“My aunt Fanny,” she muttered to herself as she picked up her steps and rounded a corner.
She pulled open a small door to her left and disappeared into the dark interior. Groping for the light switch, she held her hand in position and waited. A few seconds later, the doorknob trembled.
Metal hinges creaked and a shaft of light peaked into the dark interior. She inched to the left, deeper into the darkness and waited for the door to swing wider. The light grew brighter and a large, unmistakable form stepped inside.
3
“I KNEW IT!” She flipped on the switch and light flooded the small room. “You are following me.”
“I am not.” Rance frowned.
“Oh really? You’re standing in an airport storage closet.”
“So are you,” he retorted. “Maybe you’re the one following me.”
“Excuse me? I was here first,” she reminded him. “My brothers sent you here to spy on me, didn’t they?”
His mouth thinned as if he were about to deny it. “Actually, they sent me to talk some sense into you,” he finally said after a long moment.
She’d known the truth, but having it confirmed bothered her a lot more than she expected. Her chest tightened. She blinked against the sudden burning behind her eyes. “So all of that instructor stuff was just a bunch of BS?”
“They are always looking for qualified instructors according to their Web site.”
“But you’re not one of the chosen few.”
“I could be. If I wanted to be.”
“I should have known.” Hello? You did know.
She just hadn’t wanted to believe it. Deep down, she’d wanted to think that maybe Fate had finally smiled on her. Maybe all those years of dreaming hadn’t been wasted. Maybe it had just been poor timing.
And now the time was right and he’d followed her because he’d wanted to.
Wrong.
“Look, I’m sorry I lied to you, but it was for a good cause. Clay is worried about you and I promised him I would stick close and keep an eye out. I was afraid you would have walked off the plane back in San Antonio if I didn’t give you a convincing story.”
“I would have.”
“Which means it really was convincing.”
“Then.” She narrowed her gaze. “But now that I really think about it, I can see major holes.”
His mouth tightened into a frown. “It’s the tightest story I’ve ever heard.”
“Not really. I know you have a reputation back home, but it takes more than just a little backseat action to make a Camp E.D.E.N. instructor.”
“A little?” He arched an eyebrow at her.
“Okay, so a lot. But that’s small town stuff, which is always overexaggerated. Not to mention, that was years ago. You could have been celibate since then for all anyone knows. Which brings us to huge, gaping hole number one—you don’t have any solid references behind you.”
“I haven’t been celibate.”
“Says you.”
“And the press,” he reminded her.
“Everybody knows the media can blow things out of proportion. Last year Irma Sue Sinclair bought a push-up bra on a shopping trip to Austin. Two days later, the “About Town” column reported that she’d not only had her boobs done, but splurged on a tummy tuck and liposuction to boot.”
“That’s small-town gossip, not news.”
“You’re telling me that piece I saw on Inside Edition—the one with you eating a banana split off some centerfold’s belly—was news?”
“It was for charity.”
“It was for publicity. Look, I know you think you’ve maintained your reputation by ingesting all that whipped cream, but—”
“—and cherries.”
“—and cherries,” she added, ignoring the sudden vision that popped into her head of a very well-placed cherry and a certain tall, dark and handsome man trying to retrieve it with his mouth. “But just because you know your way around a seductive dessert, doesn’t make you an expert when it comes to sex.”
“Trust me.” His gaze glittered gold fire and she became acutely aware of the small size of the closet and his close proximity. “I’m fully qualified in that department.”
“That’s what you say. But talking the talk doesn’t make you a real expert. It takes moves. Skill. Action.” His frown deepened and she added, “If I were Camp E.D.E.N.’s owner, I would have only the most experienced instructors working for me. As a paying student, I expect a certain level of expertise.”
“And you don’t think I’ve reached that level?”
And then some. She shrugged. “It’s nothing personal. Camp E.D.E.N. needs teachers who can put their money where their mouth is… What are you doing?” she blurted as he stepped closer and she lost the precious few inches of distance between them.
“Putting my money where my mouth is.” He leaned down and his lips touched hers.
Deanie wasn’t sure what she’d expected from Rance, but she was damned sure what she didn’t expect.
A kiss.
A hot, wet, breath-stealing kiss.
Shock beat through her for the next few seconds as his lips nibbled at hers. But then he reached out, his large hands sliding around her waist, and her surprise faded amid the sudden tidal wave of lust that broke over her.
She slid her hands up and around his shoulders, his neck, and buried her fingers in his hair. His mouth slanted more fully over hers and his tongue plunged deep to tangle with hers. The kiss heated and shifted into overdrive as his hands slid down to cup her bottom and pull her tight against his hard crotch.
He rubbed her back and forth and she shuddered. He felt so good. So right.
Fate.
The