There was something about this man that brought out the passionate side of her.
Something that made Rose want him as badly as he seemed to want her. “Clint …” she murmured, splaying her hands across the broad surface of his chest. She felt the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. Saw his head lower, his eyes shutter. And then there was no more thinking, no more talking, only the masterful sensation of his lips moving over hers and the erotic sweep of his tongue.
He tasted like mint. He kissed like a man who always got what he wanted. And what he wanted right now, Rose realized, as his muscular frame pressed against her, was her.
The trouble was, she wanted him, too. And had from the first moment they had squared off under the hot Texas sun.
Lone Star
Daddy
Cathy Gillen Thacker
CATHY GILLEN THACKER is married and a mother of three. She and her husband spent eighteen years in Texas and now reside in North Carolina. Her mysteries, romantic comedies and heartwarming family stories have made numerous appearances on bestseller lists, but her best reward, she says, is knowing one of her books made someone’s day a little brighter. A popular Mills & Boon® author for many years, she loves telling passionate stories with happy endings, and thinks nothing beats a good romance and a hot cup of tea! You can visit Cathy’s website, www.cathygillenthacker.com, for more information on her upcoming and previously published books, recipes and a list of her favorite things.
Contents
“You can ignore me as long as you want. I am not going away.” Rose McCabe followed Clint McCulloch around the big farm tractor.
Wrench in one hand, a grimy cloth in another, the rodeo cowboy turned rancher paused to give her a hostile glare. “Suit yourself,” he muttered beneath his breath. Then went right back to working on the engine that had clearly seen better days.
Aware she was taking a tiger by the tail, Rose stomped closer. “Sooner or later you’re going to have to hear me out.”
“Actually, I won’t.” Sweat glistened on the suntanned skin of his broad shoulders and muscular back, dripped down the strip of dark hair that covered his chest, and arrowed down into the fly of his faded jeans.
Still ignoring her, he moved around the wheel to turn the key in the ignition.
It clicked. But did not catch.
His expression impassive, he strode back to the engine once more, giving Rose a good view of his ruggedly handsome face and the thick chestnut hair that fell onto his brow and curled damply against the nape of his neck. At six foot four, there was no doubt Clint was every bit as stubborn—and breathtakingly masculine—as he had been when they were growing up.
And, because he was four years older than she—which made him thirty-three now—likely feeling as if he were all the wiser. And more experienced.
Which, she determined fiercely, he was not.
She ambled close enough to see the darker rim of his sable brown eyes, then inclined her head at the engine. “Still not working, hmm?”
He grunted and muttered something she was just as glad not to be able to decipher.
Not above needling him if that was what it took to get his attention, she rocked back on the heels of her cowgirl boots and drawled, “Sure would be nice if you could afford to pay someone who knew what he was doing to fix that tractor. Or better yet, buy a brand new one.”
She paused to let that idea sink in.
Pivoting away from him, she turned to look out at the thousand acres of Double Creek ranchland sprawled behind the big two-story ranch house, stable and barns. “Of course, maybe I should be thanking my lucky stars you not only haven’t a clue how to get that machine up and running, but also are reportedly operating this ranch on a very thin margin. Because the combination of those two things—” she turned around to tip her hat back and give him a dazzling smile “—is going to keep you from bulldozing the hundred acres of beautiful blackberries on this property.”
Finally Clint straightened. He looked her right in the eye. “Not necessarily,” he said.
* * *
HIS UNINVITED GUEST was speechless.
Deciding the only way to discourage her was to let her know exactly where they stood, Clint continued. “I could always borrow a tractor from any one of my friends.” Except they were all using their tractors for spring clearing, mowing and planting. “And get the job done today.”
Rose’s pink lips slid into an astonished pout. “You wouldn’t!”