One Night with a Red-Hot Rancher. Diana Palmer

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      “You lunatic,” he laughed, but he bent and kissed her nose. “Yes. I do advocate being a leaf on the river. Sometimes you have to trust that things will work out the way they’re meant to, not the way you want them to.”

      “Why do you hate women?”

      His eyebrows arched.

      “Everybody knows that you do. You even told me so.” She flushed a little as she remembered when he’d told her so; the first time he’d kissed her.

      “Remember that, do you?” he teased softly. “You don’t know a lot about kissing,” he added.

      She moved restlessly. “I don’t get in much practice.”

      “Oh, I think I can help you with that,” he said in a deep, husky tone. “And for the record, I don’t hate you.”

      “Thank you very much,” she said demurely, and peered up at him through her lashes.

      He bent slowly to her mouth. “You’re very welcome,” he whispered. His lips teased just above hers, coaxing her to lift her chin, so that he had better access to her mouth.

      Before he could kiss her, a deep voice mused from behind him, “Lewd behavior in public will get you arrested.”

      “Kilraven,” Bentley groaned, turning to face the man. “What are you doing here?”

      Kilraven, in full uniform, grinned at the discomfort in their faces as he moved closer and lowered his voice. “I’m investigating possible cotton candy fraud.”

      “Excuse me?” Cappie said.

      “I’m going to taste the cotton candy, and the candy apples, and make sure they’re not using illegal counterfeit sugar.”

      They both stared at him as if he’d gone mad.

      He shrugged. “I’m really off duty, I just haven’t gone home to change. I like carnivals,” he added, laughing. “Jon, my brother, and I used to go to them when we were kids. It brings back happy memories.”

      “They have a sharpshooting target,” Bentley told him.

      “I don’t waste my unbelievable talent on games,” Kilraven scoffed.

      “I am in awe of your modesty,” Bentley said.

      “Why, thank you,” Kilraven replied. “I consider it one of my best traits, and I do have quite a few of them.” He peered past them. Winnie Sinclair, in jeans and a pretty pink sweater and matching denim jacket, was walking around the penny-pitching booth with her brother, Boone Sinclair, and his wife, Cappie’s coworker, Keely. Kilraven looked decidedly uneasy. “I’ll see you around,” he added.

      But instead of going to the cotton candy booth, he turned on his heel and walked right out of the carnival.

      “How odd,” Cappie murmured, watching him leave.

      “Not so odd,” Bentley replied. His eyes were on Winnie Sinclair, who’d just seen Kilraven glare in her direction and then walk away. She looked devastated. “Winnie Sinclair is sweet on him,” he explained, “and he’s even a worse woman hater than I am.”

      Cappie followed his glance. Keely smiled and waved. She waved back. Winnie Sinclair smiled wanly, and turned back to the booth. “Poor thing,” she murmured. “She’s so rich, and so unhappy.”

      “Money doesn’t make you happy,” Bentley pointed out.

      “Well, the lack of it can make you pretty miserable,” she said absently.

      His hand reached down and locked into hers, bringing her surprised eyes back up to meet his.

      She was hesitant, because Keely was grinning in their direction.

      “I don’t care about public opinion,” Bentley pointed out, “and she wouldn’t dare tease me in my own practice,” he added with a grin.

      Cappie laughed. “Okay. I won’t care, either.”

      His strong fingers linked with hers, while he held her gaze. “I can’t remember the last time I smiled so much,” he said. “I like being with you, Cappie.”

      She smiled. “I like being with you, too.”

      They were still smiling at each other when two running children bumped into them and broke the spell.

      Bentley drove her home, but he didn’t move to open the door after he cut off the lights and the engine. He unfastened her seat belt, and his own, and pulled her across the seat and into his lap. Before she could speak, his mouth was hard on hers, grinding into it, and his fingers were lazily searching under the soft hem of her sweater.

      She wanted to protest. It was too soon. But he found the hooks on her bra and loosened them with one quick motion of his hand. Then he found soft flesh and teased around it with such expertise that she squirmed backward to give him access.

      “Too quick?” he whispered against her mouth.

      “No,” she bit off, and arched her back.

      He smiled as his mouth covered hers once more, and his hand settled directly over the hard little nub that raised against his palm.

      After a few minutes, kissing was no longer enough. His hand moved in at the base of her spine and half lifted her against him, so that her belly ground against his in the rapt silence of the vehicle, broken only by the force of their audible breaths, and her soft moan. She could feel him wanting her. It had been exciting with Frank, but not like this. She wanted what Bentley wanted. She was on fire for him.

      He unfastened the buttons on his shirt and pulled her against him, so that her soft breasts ground against the hair-roughened muscles of his chest. His hand moved her hips against his in a slow, anguished rotation that made her moan louder.

      “Oh, God,” he bit off, shivering. “Cappie!”

      Her nails were scoring his back as she held on for dear life and began to shudder. “Don’t stop,” she whimpered. “Don’t stop!”

      “I’ve…got to!”

      He moved abruptly, pushing her back into her seat. He opened the door and got out of the Land Rover, standing with his back to her as he sucked in deep breaths and tried to regain the control he’d almost lost.

      Embarrassed, Cappie fumbled her bra closures into place and pulled her sweater down. She was still shaky. It had been a near thing. Thank goodness they were parked in her driveway instead of on some lonely road where there might not have been as much incentive to stop. Despite her passionate response to him, Cappie didn’t move with the times. Did he know that? Was he hoping for some brief fling? She couldn’t. She just couldn’t. Now, she reasoned with something like panic, he wouldn’t want to see her again, not if she said no. And either way, how was it going to affect her job? There was only one veterinary clinic in Jacobs County, and she worked for it. If she lost her job, she couldn’t get another, not in her field.

      While she was torturing herself with such thoughts, the door suddenly СКАЧАТЬ