“I’ve been looking forward to tonight all afternoon long.”
“First you want me to pack and return to Chicago and then you tell me you’ve been wanting to go out with me. That’s contradictory,” Destiny said, but Wyatt saw the desire in her gaze.
“My feelings are contradictory,” he said. “You’re a complication in my quiet life.” Her wide green eyes made him yearn to tell her to do whatever she wanted in Verity.
“A few complications in life sometimes makes it more interesting. You’ll be able to handle this one, I’m sure.”
“I can’t wait to handle this complication,” he said in a husky voice, his heart drumming as he looked at her full lips.
He knew she wasn’t going to leave quietly. She would be a constant challenge to him … the most enticing challenge he’d ever had in his life.
* * *
A Texan in Her Bed is part of the Lone Star Legends series from USA TODAY bestselling author Sara Orwig
A Texan in Her Bed
Sara Orwig
SARA ORWIG lives in Oklahoma. She has a patient husband who will take her on research trips anywhere, from big cities to old forts. She is an avid collector of Western history books. With a master’s degree in English, Sara has written historical romance, mainstream fiction and contemporary romance. Books are beloved treasures that take Sara to magical worlds, and she loves both reading and writing them.
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Contents
Extract
What Sheriff Wyatt Milan liked most about his job was that he knew what to expect in his quiet town of Verity, Texas. But on this October afternoon when he turned his car around the corner onto Main Street he knew change was in the air.
A red limousine took up his parking space, plus some, right in front of city hall.
“What the hell?” he said quietly.
“Gosh almighty, there goes a quiet afternoon,” Deputy Lambert whispered. “Will you look at that,” he said louder.
Wyatt was looking. Directly in front of the small city hall building stood a prominent sign with large letters: No Parking—Reserved for the Sheriff of Verity, Texas.
He had expected the usual big empty space where he could park Verity’s official black-and-red sheriff’s car. Instead, the red stretch limousine took every inch of the allotted area.
He and his family had money, as did many families in the town, but no one owned anything as flashy as an all-red limo. “That limo doesn’t belong to anyone living in these parts,” Wyatt said, more to himself than to his deputy, thinking something was about to shatter some of the peacefulness of his hometown.
“In my whole life, I’ve never seen a limo that big and that red,” Val said with awe in his voice. “I’ll go look for the driver.”
“He may be inside.”
“No one was scheduled to see you today, were they?”
“No,” Wyatt said, halting beside the limo. “You write a ticket and stick it on the windshield. Come in when you’re through. If the owner or the driver isn’t here, we’ll go look around town for him. The people who live here want a quiet, peaceful town. I want one, too. Thanks to
