Free Beneath the Stetson by Janice Maynard

forehead broke out in a cold sweat thinking about it. “Sleep well,” he said, knowing that he wouldn’t.
    Bailey walked halfway up the steps, then turned to look at him. “I had fun tonight.” Her voice carried on the night breeze. “Good night, Gil.”
    He got into the truck and leaned his forehead against the steering wheel, his heart slugging in his chest as if he’d run a marathon. Something was going to have to change. And soon....
    * * *
    Bailey entered the house quietly, though since it was not yet ten, likely no one was asleep. Chance McDaniel stood in the lobby chatting with a couple of gray-headed ladies from Ohio. Bailey had met them when she first arrived. Learning to ride a horse was a big item on their bucket list, and Chance’s patient staff was helping that dream come true.
    The owner of the dude ranch excused himself when he saw her enter and crossed the floor. “Everything okay?”
    Her face must have reflected some of her turmoil. She flushed. “Fine. No problem.”
    He lifted an eyebrow. “Was that Gil Addison’s truck I saw out front?”
    Her flush deepened. “It was. We had dinner together.”
    Chance’s smile was more of a grimace. “I suppose that means at least one of us is no longer on your suspect list.”
    “A man is innocent until proven guilty,” she said.
    Chance shook his head, his gaze hooded. “Doesn’t feel that way from where I’m standing.”
    * * *
    Bailey headed for the stairs, wishing she had the luxury of becoming friends with Chance. Already, in the short time she had been around, she felt like he was a man who could be trusted. But hard evidence was composed of facts and not feelings. Until she could completely clear his name from the suspect list, she couldn’t get too friendly. It was impossible to imagine Chance committing a kidnapping. But she knew better than most that some people hid unimaginable secrets. Chance didn’t. She was almost positive. Hopefully, soon she could prove it.
    Upstairs, she stripped out of the one nice dress she had brought with her to Royal and stared at her reflection in the mirror. The tiny undies and demibra that matched the garter belt were intensely feminine. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine the look on Gil’s face if he saw her like this. His raw passion elated her, made her feel special and wanted.
    In the shower, she imagined Gil at her side, his face all planes and angles as he stared at her with male determination. His body was intensely masculine, strong and rugged. The juxtaposition of his tenderness with Cade and his ruthless pursuit of Bailey should have confused her, but in a way, it made perfect sense. He was a man of deep emotions, whether it be love for his son or hunger for the woman in his arms.
    She wouldn’t be the woman in his life , not long-term. But if the fates were kind, she would certainly enjoy exploring her sensual side with him until it was time for her to leave.
    Sliding her soapy fingers over her slick breasts, she inhaled sharply as arousal pumped through her veins like thick honey. Her nipples were taut nubs, their ache an ever-present reminder that she was young and in need of a man’s touch.
    Dragging the washcloth between her legs, she winced as her body demanded attention. It didn’t take more than a few languid strokes before she came with a low moan and rested her forehead against the tile as her heartbeat slowly returned to normal.
    On shaky legs, she got out and dried off, already anticipating the following day. What did Gil have in mind? And how long would they have to wait?
    She was almost asleep when the cell phone on the bedside table vibrated suddenly. Snatching it up, she glanced at the screen. Though she had only dialed it once before, she recognized Gil’s number. “Hello.”
    “Bailey. I just looked at the clock. I’m sorry. Were you asleep?”
    “Not quite.” She shifted, sitting up against the headboard. “Is something wrong?”
    The silence on the other end of