Lone Star Bride. Carolyn Davidson

night, didn’t it?”

      “Does it show?” Alexis walked as if she had a decided cramp in her calf, and he could almost envision himself scooping her up from the ground if it should give way beneath her.

      “You betcha it shows,” he said with a chuckle. “I noticed when you came down for breakfast that you were favoring it. Kinda goes with the territory, sweetheart. Come on in the barn and I’ll massage it for you.”

      She lifted a brow and hesitated. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, boss.”

      “Strictly a professional gesture,” he told her, motioning to the door of the tack room. She entered, James behind her, and when she sat on a chair, he squatted in front of her. His hands worked her boot off and then slid up her calf, his fingers seeking out the muscle that had tightened even more when she sat down.

      “While you keep walking on it, it’ll behave. But sit down and it tightens up and pulls from your heel. Nasty business.” His fingers were digging deeply into the clenched muscle, working out the knot, even as he kept an eye on her face.

      She winced, jerked once as he touched on the core of the spasm and he muttered a quick word of apology. Unless he missed his guess, she was struggling against tears, and the thought of her pain made him angry.

      “Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked. “You don’t have to work so hard at this, you know.”

      “I don’t work any harder than you do. I don’t expect to be pampered. I’m here to do a job. And if I can’t do it well, you’ll have Slim all over you like greased lightning. He’s got a short nose as it is, what with my doing the job he’s thought of as his for a long time.”

      “I know all that,” he said, sighing in exasperation as he felt the muscle softening a bit. His hands fit around her calf and he applied pressure where he knew it hurt the worst. He’d had his share in the past years. Charley-horses were part of the job. Especially when beginning a new phase of training or when a man was new to the job. In this case, a woman was involved, and James felt responsible for her pain.

      “Forget about Slim. If you can’t do the job well, he can fill in. But for now, you’re doing just fine and Slim has enough to keep him busy.” He looked down at her leg and his mouth flattened over his teeth.

      “If you were a man, I’d have you out of those britches so I could handle this better,” he told her. And then, almost as an afterthought, he tossed her a quick grin. “But, to tell the truth, I’m awfully glad you’re not a man, sweetheart.”

      She bit her lip and was silent, her eyes shiny, perhaps with tears she hoarded to herself, he thought. And then she bent toward him and her mouth touched his forehead. “I’m glad I’m not a man, Jamie. Men are nice people for the most part, but in this case, I’d rather be what I am.”

      “Tempting? A green-eyed witch? A hip-twitching female?” He offered her choices, and she shot him a smug look, blinking back the moisture she had not allowed to fall. Her mouth formed a smile and he thought triumph dwelled there, the exultation of a woman who has gained her man’s attention.

      “You noticed? Especially the hip-twitching part?”

      “How could I help it? You’ve got the sweetest little fanny I’ve ever spent any time watching, ma’am.”

      She ducked her head, as if suddenly unsure of herself. “I think I should be embarrassed, Jamie. At least a bit put out with you, talking to me this way.”

      “I’m only stating facts, Alex. There isn’t a man breathing who wouldn’t watch you if he had a chance. You’re as easy on the eyes as any female I’ve ever known.”

      “Thank you, sir. At least I think that was a compliment.”

      “Bend a little closer and I guarantee you’ll know it was,” he told her, reaching to encircle her waist with his hands, tugging her forward so that she lost her balance and fell against him. He caught her deftly, held her firmly and touched her mouth with his. As kisses went, it wasn’t the best he’d ever aimed at a woman, but the power of their lips meeting in such a fashion shot through him.

      “Jamie, you’re supposed to be taking care of my leg, not kissing me,” she said quietly, her breath sweet against his lips.

      “I’d rather kiss you,” he told her, rising and drawing her up from the chair. “Your leg feel better now?” he asked.

      “Much,” she told him. “Let me get my boot back on, will you?”

      “I’ll put it on for you. In just a minute.”

      She watched him, her cheeks rosy, her eyes glowing as she waited. Her mouth was pink and lush, luring him with its softness, promising pleasure should he accept the silent offering before him.

      “You’re a beauty, Miss Alexis. A man could get lost in your eyes, and lose his head over your lips. You feel like heaven in my arms,” he murmured, wondering at his own fluent compliments. And then he bent to touch her ear with the tip of his tongue, and used his greater strength to ease her against himself, fitting her securely there, even as he acknowledged the thrust of his male member seeking shelter in the notch of her thighs.

      “I think this is getting out of hand,” she said, her palms firm against his chest. “I won’t be treated like a mare in a stall, Jamie.”

      “And I won’t do that to you,” he answered. “When I make love to you, it won’t be in the tack room where anybody could come wandering by. I’ll find a private place where we can be alone, where no one will disturb us.”

      “When you make love to me?” she asked tartly. “What makes you think it’s a foregone conclusion?”

      “Isn’t it?” he asked, smiling at her, knowing his grin was arrogant. His mouth was twisted wryly and she was getting angrier by the second.

      “I don’t think so.”

      Her answer was what he had expected, and he wasn’t long disappointed.

      “I have no intention of performing any intimacies with you, Mr. Webster. I can’t afford to give away what my husband will claim as his own on the day I marry.”

      “I’d say that all depends on who your husband turns out to be,” he told her, his arms tightening around her, one hand lifting her chin, the better to position her for his kiss. No matter that she silently protested, turning her head away, pushing at him with futile strength.

      He was by far the more powerful, his need was great and his aim was true. His mouth took hers with sure, certain touches, his lips forming to hers, the movement of his tongue urging her to open to him. If he was arrogant, so be it, he thought, sensing her ambivalence as she initially fought his arms and finally surrendered to his strength.