Cowboy Fantasy. Ann Major
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As if she read his mind, Melody notched her chin upward a bit defiantly, and he found himself drinking in the beauty of her long slender neck and wondering if she really might be referring to sex.
“With this degree and certificate,” Melody continued, “I can work anywhere in the world. I’ll be independent.”
So that was it! She hadn’t come back because of him. This was about her infernal determination to be independent of him. To stay single.
Not that he cared.
“So you still want to travel?” he whispered, making his voice both insolent and admiring. “To see the world?”
“To be free,” she agreed, but her tone was low and urgent as if this really was important to her, as if making him understand mattered.
“Sexually free?”
She turned red again. “Is that all you ever think about?”
“That does seem to be a burning issue when you’re around.”
“Which is why I wanted to get as far away from you as I possibly could!”
“To have more of your little adventures?”
Her eyes blazed. “You don’t get me at all. I should’ve known better than to try to talk to you. You wouldn’t understand.”
He understood, all right. She teased him. Did she want real adventures with other, wilder men, who weren’t so predictable, who didn’t bore her—as he did?
“You might get into trouble. I worry about you.”
“Well, don’t.” Her eyes smoldered. “This isn’t about you, North.”
Something cold coiled around his heart, and then he saw that she was trembling.
“You’re right, of course,” he forced himself to agree. “We broke up. Or rather, you broke up with me. You said we’re—”
“Finished. And you said—” Her voice was tight and sad, and he realized his parting shots had hurt her, too.
He’d said she was doing him a favor.
She was right. They were finished. It was what she’d wanted, what he wanted, too. He was a rancher, born and bred—traditional to the core. He couldn’t change that. He couldn’t—not for her, not after everything she’d done.
Even so, the thought of other men touching her…of her touching them…
That shouldn’t have bothered him. But his stomach twisted, and a bleak, lonely wave of despair washed over him as he considered working his ranch, dating other women, even Maria—while Melody had romantic adventures.
“I—I guess I’ll go and get dressed,” she said after an awkward spell.
When she left him, North’s gaze followed her. Her waist was slim, the flare of her hips and thighs enticingly sweet. That short red silk thing made her look leggy and coltish. He couldn’t seem to move till she disappeared from his view.
Then he adjusted his collar and raked his hand through his hair. So what if he had to endure one miserable night with her?
They’d catch up on old times. Then he really would forget her. He’d see Maria on Saturday, and maybe he’d find a bad girl on the side to sleep with. From now on, he’d drown himself in other women instead of work.
The only reason Miss Melody Woods was getting to him tonight was that she’d burned him so bad, he’d avoided all women since her.
Until Maria, he reminded himself. Maria was perfect for him. At least Jeff said so.
Could he help it if Melody looked good enough to eat, and that he was starved?
One night with her.
What could possibly go wrong?
Smile. It’s the second best thing you can do with your lips.
Why did those infernal words keep repeating themselves like a broken record? Why did he keep imagining her mouth on his body?
He didn’t like the heat those images brought.
One night.
That was all.
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