Free Cowboy's Bride by Barbara McMahon

every
movement, every breath he took. The tension rose even higher.
    "To love someone and then—"
    "God, but you view the world from
rose-colored glasses. There was no love between us. Alyssa was
great in the sack. She got pregnant with Becky so I married her to
give my kid a name. There was no love there. On either side. Grow
up, Kalli, people mate for various reasons, and the romantic love
you're talking about is only found in fairy tales."
    "You're so cynical. Love is all around you.
Don't you love Becky?"
    "Of course, she's my daughter."
    "Well, there's other love, too. And nothing
is stronger than the love between a man and a woman. It can last
beyond the grave. Just because you haven't experienced it doesn't
mean it doesn't exist," she snapped. Where had all the anger come
from? He'd been fair with her, telling her exactly what he
wanted—her, the ranch. The anger couldn't be on his behalf, could
it?
    "And you have firsthand knowledge, I
suppose." For a moment he held his breath. He didn't want to hear
about her great love for some damn wonderful man she knew. He
didn't want to hear about love at all. He only wanted to tumble her
in bed. Feel her move beneath him, satisfy the growing need in him
for her. Get her out of his system so he could get back to the
important things in life, like buying the Triple T Ranch.
    "That's none of your business," she said,
pushing against his shoulder. She felt vulnerable and exposed. He
still stood between her spread thighs, his hands moving to rest on
her cotton skirt, her legs hot and tingling as he pinned her to the
counter. She could feel the warmth from his body envelop hers, heat
hers. And his raw masculinity was too distracting, too disturbing.
Too enticing. If she planned to keep even a bit of her sanity, he
had to leave. Now.
    "Trace, move away."
    "No." He lowered his head again, his lips
toying with hers. God, he wanted this woman like he'd never wanted
another.
    "Trace, please." Her lips met his, responded.
His mouth was firm, warm. Her tongue traced the shape of his lips,
tasted him again and again. She kissed him even as she tried to
clutch her sanity. Crazy beyond belief, she was burning up for
more.
    His hands moved beneath her top. He felt her
jerk of surprise as he gently rubbed her soft, satiny skin. Slowly
his hands pressed against her, his fingers and palm tingling with
sensation. The softness of her skin was compelling. He never wanted
to let go. Skimming across the ridges of her ribs, he moved to her
breasts, feeling their slight weight, learning their shape. Feeling
the thrust of her nipples against his palms, he sighed softly and
kissed her again, open mouthed, hot. She was so feminine, so sweet.
His blood heated to boiling. His desire strengthened until he could
scarcely breathe.
    "Dad?" Becky's voice called from outside.
    Trace pulled back fast as lightening. His
eyes flicked open and he stared into Kalli's dark gaze.
    "Becky, I thought I told you to go see Josh,"
he called back, his glittering gaze never leaving Kalli's.
    "He's watching some dumb TV show." Her voice
drew steadily closer.
    Trace brought his hands down from Kalli's
breasts and lifted her from the counter. Running fingers through
his hair, he leaned into the counter, gripping the tile edge with
hard fingers, keeping his back to the door as his daughter entered
the kitchen, the screen slamming behind her.
    "And I didn't want to see it." Becky looked
suspiciously at Kalli, and then at her father.
    "Your hair is all messed up," she said,
glaring at Kalli.
    "It's hot in here and the braid was
confining," Kalli snapped, trying to draw some semblance of order
to her tangled hair. In the throes of passion with Trace she'd been
scarcely aware of his loosening the braid and fisting his hand in
her hair.
    "Are we going home now?" Becky asked her
dad.
    "Yeah, in a minute." He gripped the counter
hard, and willed the blatant evidence of his desire for Kalli to
fade so he could face his impressionable