Free The Cowboy and the Calendar Girl by Nancy Martin Page B

have been disappointed when I didn’t measure up.”
    “In bed, you mean?”
    “No, no. Sex is always good,” he said with another grin. He was surprised at Carly’s line of questioning, but plunged ahead with his answer. “Sometimes it’s fabulous. No, it’s the emotional stuff that’s complicated. I’ve been grown-up a long time, and I’m not looking for a mother. I enjoy being with women who are independent and don’t fuss over me all the—” He caught himself and opened his eyes. “Why am I talking about myself again?”
    “Because I’m interested. Let’s get back to the fabulous part again.”
    With a laugh he asked, “Are you thinking about fabulous sex every time you make a calendar?”
    “I try to,” Carly said honestly. “It’s harder than you imagine. I have to think about what other women want when I plan a calendar. Hiring the models, arranging the shots, setting up—it makes me weary sometimes. Bringing all those female fantasies to life is hard work.”
    By that, his attention was aroused completely. “What kinds of female fantasies? You mean firefighters wielding their big axes and wearing no shirts?”
    “Sure,” she said on a laugh. “And our police officer calendar sold well.”
    “Did they carry big nightsticks and take off their shirts?”
    “You bet.”
    “What about the cowboy calendar? I’m supposed to carry a big gun and take off my shirt, huh?”
    “It’s not just a matter of props and missing clothing,” Carly corrected. “There has to be a certain look in a man’s eye.”
    “What does a cop’s eye look like?”
    “Tough. Dangerous. Like he’s thinking about arresting someone.”
    “And a firefighter?”
    “Noble. He’s about to run out and rescue little children from burning buildings, you know. But he also has to look a little dangerous, too.”
    “Dangerous seems to be a theme. And what kind of look is the cowboy supposed to have in his eye?”
    “I don’t know exactly. But you have it right now. What are you thinking about?”
    Hank never hesitated. “I’m thinking I’ve never seen a woman look so sexy in her underwear.”
    Carly laughed and felt herself turn hot. “What else are you thinking?”
    “That I’d like to be kissing her right now,” he replied steadily.
    Carly took a deep breath and looked deeply into his glowing blue gaze. She couldn’t hold back an answering smile and thought that sometimes a girl just had to take matters into her own hands. Or lips.
    She leaned toward Hank, then hesitated. For an instant she wondered what his kiss might taste like, but then suddenly she knew. He met her halfway. He was warm and sweet and delicious, and Carly wanted the moment to last at least an hour.
    But she pulled back and blinked into his eyes, wondering if she was crazy or just temporarily insane. Carly Cortazzo didn’t do this sort of thing—take off her clothes and eat a picnic in her underwear as calmly as you please, then start kissing a man she’d known only a day.
    “I...I’m sorry,” she murmured, staring into his eyes with something like terror welling up inside herself. “I’m not usually like this.”
    “Like what?”
    “Reckless and—well, impatient.”
    Hank didn’t seem to have any such reservations. In another moment, he wound his hand around the nape of her neck and sank his fingers into her hair as if enjoying its silky texture. Pulling gently, he drew Carly’s mouth against his own once again. The contact was firmer this time, more intense. He made a noise in the back of his throat—not a groan exactly, but a sound of pleasure. It made Carly melt inside, and her lips turned pliant against his.
    As a rush of erotic sensations grew inside her, Carly wrapped one slim arm around his neck and found herself pressing up against the soft flannel of his shirt. She could feel his heart beating against hers. His breath was deep and even—counterpointing her own increasingly breathless state. Then Hank swiped his tongue