Free Cinderella's Big Sky Groom by Christine Rimmer

arms tightened around her. “Isn’t it?”
    â€œNo, it is not.”
    His eyes seemed to reach down inside her, to grab hold of her in all her most private and forbidden places. He muttered, “Maybe you need to be dared. Maybe there’s a woman inside you that you need to let out.”
    â€œThat’s my choice to make. Not yours to make for me.”
    Those words stopped him. “You’re right,” he said. “Get your things. We’ll go.” He released her and stepped away.
    And all she wanted was for him to grab her close once more.
    Oh, what was the matter with her? She was a plainspoken, direct person. She never said one thing and meant something else altogether.
    Or at least, she never had until tonight.
    â€œGo on,” he said more gently. “Get your coat.”
    It was a long walk to that front closet. But she made it. She had the closet door open and was staring at her plain brown coat hanging there when the truth hit her.
    She shut the closet door.
    She heard his footsteps, coming closer. And then he was there, at her back. She could feel him, feel the very maleness of him. So close. Too close…
    â€œLynn.” His voice was so tender, a caress of sound in her ear.
    Her legs felt weak, her whole body trembled. She still had her hand on the knob.
    She leaned into it, resting her forehead against the door. “I…don’t want to go.”
    He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to, really. She closed her eyes, pressed her head harder against the ungiving wood, let out a ragged breath. “Isn’t that crazy?”
    She waited. Still he said nothing.
    And she couldn’t bear to face him, not yet. Not until she’d thoroughly confessed her own foolishness. She whispered, “It’s all wrong. And I’m scared. I’ve never…done anything like this before. I hardly know you. And I’m a teacher. A teacher is expected to behave a certain way. But…” She couldn’t go on.
    After a minute he took her arm. She stiffened in self-defense against his touch, against the real kindness in it that seemed to her to verge on something like pity.
    She had liked it better when he dared her, she really, truly had.
    He made a soothing sound. “Come on. Look at me.”
    Reluctantly she let go of the doorknob and turned. His hand slid down to clasp with hers. “Look at me. And listen. Are you listening?”
    She bit her lip and nodded.
    â€œI’m a damn good lawyer,” he said.
    She stifled a laugh, a laugh that felt a little too much like a sob. “What has that got to do with anything?”
    â€œIf you’ll listen, I’ll tell you.”
    â€œI…all right.”
    â€œI’m a damn good lawyer. But the truth is, I’m not a very good man.”
    She had an instant and rather powerful urge to argue with him—and he knew it.
    With the hand that wasn’t holding hers, he touched a finger to her lips. “Shh. Listen. I’m not a very good man. But you’re one hell of a woman. And not just because of an appointment at the Whitehorn Salon and a pretty new dress. You’ve got heart and you’ve got guts. A sense of humor—and a damn sharp tongue. You’re going to do fine. You’re going to find yourself that prince you’re looking for.”
    â€œBut I—”
    â€œShh. Wait. Listen.”
    She pressed her lips together, nodded.
    â€œThat prince is not me. That prince was never me. Do you understand?”
    She should have nodded again then. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Deep in her most secret heart, she simply did not believe him.
    You are my prince, her heart cried—at the same time as she called herself ten thousand kinds of fool.
    He said, “All I want from you, and I admit, I want it pretty damn bad, is one night. I’m not looking for anything more than that. I’m no good for anything more than that. And