Free Lone Star Rancher by Laurie Paige Page B

There he paused before getting out after he turned off the engine, his eyes even darker in the twilight.
    â€œI knew you were a temptation when I spotted you at the airport that first day. I just didn’t realize how irresistible you would be. I should have been on guard.”
    She felt his anger as a physical force. It wasn’t directed at her so much as at himself. For being weak and giving in to their desire? The insult and hurt of it lodged deep within her psyche.
    Lifting her chin, she regarded him without emotion.“This afternoon was a very enjoyable interlude, but I don’t expect it to change either of our lives.”
    With that, she hopped out of the truck and went to the house. Upstairs, under the hot shower, she vowed to put the moment of insane passion behind her and to never let herself be vulnerable to any man again.
    After all, it wasn’t as if she’d let herself fall for him or anything serious like that.

Five
    O n Thursday, Jessica lazed on the patio in the sun, its warmth soothing the tangled mix of emotions that had haunted her since Monday and the mindless interlude down by the lake.
    For the thousandth time, she wondered how she could have been so lost to common sense and her usual caution around men. She mentally winced each time she thought of those ecstatic moments in Clyde’s arms. Losing her head was so unlike her.
    She was pretty sure it was the same for him. Okay, so they’d both succumbed to an irresistible attraction. Doing a lengthy postmortem didn’t clear up any of the hazy thoughts that whirled through her brain.
    So. She wouldn’t think about it again.
    Ha, easier said than done. She flopped over onto her tummy. Her hand hit something soft and furry.
    â€œHey, Smoky,” she murmured, opening her eyes.
    The dog wagged his tail and pranced around the patio, inviting her for a romp.
    â€œOkay, let me get some shoes on,” she told him.
    Going into the house, she quickly changed from her swimsuit to cropped pants and a T-shirt and donned a pair of sneakers. Soon she and Smoky wandered about the grounds. She stopped to pull a few weeds she spotted in the shrub and perennial beds in front of the house and along the walkways.
    Lavender, sage, basil, thyme and several other herbs she didn’t recognize were planted near the kitchen. She wondered who took care of them. She’d seen no one working in the yard.
    â€œPixies?” she asked the dog, who wagged his tail and looked wise.
    Following the dog, she wandered past the stable, which was empty, and stopped in front of a rustic shed. Hearing a cat’s meow, she went inside, shutting the dog out.
    â€œOh,” she murmured. Stooping, she peered under an old table at a mother cat and three kittens, the little ones looking like fuzzy balls of black, yellow and white.
    She resisted picking them up, although they were so darling. Instead she stood. Glancing around the shed, she notices piles of furniture stacked to the ceiling.
    The carved table sheltering the cat family caught her eye. It was old and scarred, yet the detail of the work was exquisite. With a little work, it would look lovely in the foyer of the main house.
    Mmm, maybe she should point that out to Clyde. He might not be aware of the piece out here going to waste.
    She and Smoky continued their roaming. They went down to the creek and found a stepping stone path across it. Going up the hill beyond the stream, a long barn, surrounded by green fields and a high fence, came into view.
    Inside the fence were hundreds of chickens, pecking and cackling as they searched for food.
    Spotting a man using a hose to rinse off his boots, she went down the slope and called out a hello. Beside him was a wheelbarrow filled with eggs.
    â€œHello,” he answered her friendly greeting. “You must be Clyde’s guest.”
    The man was in his early forties, she estimated, perhaps Latino and Native American mix. He had a thin,