Free Cowboy at Midnight by Ann Major Page A

without a trace of doubt that Sally was the one. Which was hellishly scary because he didn’t even know her.
    Damn it. He had sworn he would never trust his heart to a woman unworthy of it again. And here he was, in the grip of something way stronger than he should be with a virtual stranger. That was the trouble with life and with people. You thought you were in control. Wrong. You could be in deep water with the first awkward step in a relationship, and suddenly your life wasn’t yours anymore.
    In the morning he would start trying to win her trust. He had to find out why she’d cried and why that was a big deal. Even though he knew better than to try to rescue another person, what choice did he have?
    He was in too deep. He couldn’t fail with her as he had with Madison. He simply couldn’t. Too much was at stake.
    Snuggling closer into her sweet-smelling warmth, he knew he wanted to hold Sally like this every night for the rest of his life. He nuzzled the nape of her neck with his lips, and the mere softness of her skin stirred him. If he lost her, she’d take a real piece of him with her.
    She was the one woman for him.
    Yet somehow he knew—hell, he was the smart triplet, wasn’t he?—that she spelled trouble.
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    When Amy awoke, naked, her long limbs tangled in Steve’s, the icy bedroom was dark except for the gray edges of light around the tall, rectangular windows. Her breathing was slow and measured, relaxed. Her body was filled with indescribable warmth. For a long moment she lay there in a state of utter contentment. As her hands moved across the sheets, she realized she’d never known such a profound sense of tranquillity. Then her hand brushed a warm, muscular arm, and she realized where she was and whose arms wrapped her. For a long moment she let herself sink into the tranquil bliss of just being with him, and in those brief seconds before her brain took over, she felt like a flower blossoming in a paradise that was eternal spring.
    Then logic kicked in. It was morning. She had a job, and she’d probably overslept. There were probably a dozen messages on her cell phone and more on her office voice mail. She had calls to make, caterers to meet, hoteliers to woo, budgets to fine tune, and her major client to suck up to.
    Her next breath was quick and shallow.
    â€œSteve. Oh, my God.”
    Her temple pounded painfully. She had an awful headache. The soft tissues between her legs ached, too. He was big and he’d been an enthusiastic lover. She was sore down there, which meant she’d think of him all day.
    Even now she wanted to forget about her cell phone messages. She wanted to stroke his hair, to kiss his throat and his mouth, to kiss him awake and then make love to him for hours.
    Frowning, she forced herself to focus on her early meeting with her favorite caterer. Last thing yesterday her number-one client had told her he never wanted to use the caterer again. Amy still didn’t know how she was going to explain. Also, sometime today she had to call her mother. But first she had to get out of here without waking Steve up. He made her feel things and want things. That terrified her.
    Still, for another endless moment she lingered in his warm embrace and felt sad that she had to leave him. He was sweet. He’d been incredible in bed, too. So incredible she wished her life were different…she wished she were different.
    She wished she deserved him. She wished she was the kind of person who didn’t disappoint those she loved most.
    Careful not to awaken him, she shifted a little.
    Oh my, she was sore. Gingerly, inch by painful inch, she scooted her tender body away from his.
    She grabbed her boots on the way to the living room where she found her panties, skirt and blouse. Quicklyshe dressed. She’d only managed to pull one boot on, when she heard something crash in the bedroom.
    Another lamp? Was he coming after her like a big bear on