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Authors: Victoria Vane

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BOOK: Slow Hand
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“But you're still here.”

“Yeah. I've stuck around. But that doesn't mean I like it.”

“If you feel so strongly why do you stay?”

“I dunno. Wish I did.” He shrugged. “Probably obligation mixed with guilt.”

“But you resent it?” she suggested.

“Yeah, I do,” he said. “I want to live my own life. I'm damned tired of playing second fiddle to big brother.”

“I find it really hard to imagine you playing second to anyone.”

“Why thank you, ma'am. That sounded damned near complimentary.”

She wished he'd stop flashing that irresistible crooked grin. “Regardless of your differing opinions, it still sounds like you hold your brother in pretty high regard.”

“Does it?” he asked.

“Yeah. It does.”

A muscle tightened in his jaw. “Maybe I do,” he confessed. “But Dirk's always been a tough act to follow. He won a full rodeo scholarship to the Ag College at MSU. Won overall Champion at the collegiate rodeo finals and could have gone on to pro rodeo but joined the Marines instead. He did two tours and lost half his right leg.”

“Wow. I can't even imagine what that must be like.” Nikki shook her head. “I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be,” he added dryly. “Dirk's sorry enough for all of us. And his disability hasn't slowed him down much.”

“Really?” she remarked in surprise. “What does he do now?”

“He runs the ranch.”

“By himself?”

“Not completely. The ol' man does what he can and I still help out when hands are short.”

“But you said you hate ranching.”

“It's a damned hard way of life, thankless, and never ending. What's not to love?” He smirked. “I don't really
hate
it, but it doesn't run thick in my blood like it does with Dirk.”

“You talk more about your brother than about yourself,” she remarked.

He shrugged. “Not much to tell. Raised here then studied law at the University of Colorado.”

“That was surely the
Reader's Digest
condensed version,” she remarked dryly.

“What else do you want to know?”

“Why did you choose law?” she asked.

“Seemed practical…and more profitable than ranching.”

“Has it been?” She wondered given the vehicle he drove.

“I do all right.” He shrugged. “But I would have done a lot better had I stayed in Denver or gone east. I was offered a job with a big firm in Boston, but like an idiot, I came back home.”

“Why did you turn the job down? Were you homesick?”

“Dirk's injuries had a lot to do with it, but I s'pose you can take the man out of the mountains but can't take the mountains out of the man.”

“But you've just said you want to sell out. If you didn't wish to settle here, why'd you come back at all?”

He stared straight ahead and seemed focused elsewhere. “Not all folks are meant to settle down.”

True enough. In her experience cowboys were notoriously unreliable, generally unfaithful, and rarely capable of settling at all. Wade was past thirty and she hadn't seen a ring, or sign of one on his left hand—
not
that
she
had
any
interest
. Looking was simply a habit she'd formed after a nearly disastrous mistake. His name was Clint. Tall, lean, and swaggering with piercing gray eyes like his Hollywood namesake. They'd lived together for six months before she'd discovered he had a wife and kids. Cowboys seemed to have a franchise on two-timing.

“Besides,” he interrupted her mind's ramblings, “there's no reason for me to stay here once I've convinced them to unload the ranch.”

“What then? What do
you
want?”

His gaze left the road and roamed over her with a look that heated her insides. “Right now? I can think of lots of things. Unfortunately, none are compatible with driving.”

She scowled. “It was a serious question.”

“What makes you think I'm not serious?” His gaze returned to the road.

“What makes
you
think I'm interested?” she rejoined, intently studying his profile.

His mouth tugged up at the corner. “You are. I feel it and you do too. It's why you've been so riled up from the very start. You don't like that you're attracted to me.”

“Keep on dreaming,
cowboy
.”

He laughed, a warm sound that reverberated through her.

Nikki snorted. “I don't go for players.”

His smile vanished. “I'm not a player. A flirt maybe, but not a womanizer. There's a huge difference.”

She set her jaw. “I'm neither convinced nor interested.”

“Give me time and I'll change your mind. You'll see. No woman can resist my charm. I'm a legend.”

She snorted. “In your own mind maybe.” He
was
pretty hard to resist—except that he knew that too. His presumption served to shore up her defenses.

“You're just fighting yourself right now, which only makes the prospect even more enticing. Men
always
like a challenge.”

Her throat felt suddenly thick. He was right. Taunting him was reckless as hell but for some reason he made her feel a bit reckless. “This conversation isn't going anywhere.”

“We can take it wherever you want,” he replied. “I aim to please.”

Given that cue, Nikki abruptly changed the subject. “You still didn't answer me. If you don't want to be here, what do you plan to do?”

“That's a damn good question that I'm still trying to answer. I don't know. I may move back to Denver. There's an expectation that I'll eventually take over the firm there.”

“You mean from Evans?”

“Yeah. He only practices part-time in Bozeman, commuting as needed for the biggest clients. He only comes up for the big ranch deals his daughter reels in. I hold down the fort here the rest of the time and handle the smaller stuff. He's looking to retire altogether in a few years.” He glanced in her direction. “Hungry?”

The mention of food made her stomach growl, an embarrassing reminder that she hadn't eaten since lunch the day before. “I am as long as you're buying,” she replied with a cheeky grin.

* * *

They pulled into a truck stop on Highway 287 just into Madison County. Wade stopped her as Nikki reached for her door. “No, wait, Mama would have my hide.”

“And they say chivalry is dead?”

“Not if your mother's a Southerner born and bred.”

“I promise you'd still be a novelty where I come from.” She laughed as he helped her step down from the truck, but secretly luxuriated in his attentiveness.

He gave her that heart-stopping grin. “Are you referring to my old-fashioned manners or my legendary charm?”

She didn't reply, but couldn't suppress a half smile. Wade's conversation was easy and his boyish grin was disarming. Gradually she began to relax. They made more small talk inside the truck stop during a hastily scarfed egg and hotcake breakfast.

When they got back into the truck, Wade reached over her to open the glove box, brushing his shoulder against her breasts. Although accidental, the sudden intimate contact made her breath catch and her nipples pebble against her bra. Their gazes met, intense physical awareness once more electrifying the air between them.

“Sorry.” He broke the sudden tension. “You know that wasn't intentional, don't you? I was just hunting a notebook for you.”

“Yeah.” She gave a nervous laugh and willed herself to breathe again. “You hardly seem the type who needs to resort to covert tactics to cop a feel.”

He retrieved a small pad and pen and closed the glove box. “Thought you might want to jot some things down while we drive. There's much you'll need to do when we get to Virginia City.”

“Right. Thanks. That's thoughtful of you.” She was glad he'd shifted the conversation back to a business level.

“By the way,” his husky voice broke into her thoughts, “if I
was
inclined to make a move, you're right that I'd do it without pretense.”

“So you aren't inclined?” She bit her lip the moment the words were out, wishing she could pull them back. He learned toward her, bracing his arm on the back of her seat, studying her face with an intensity that made her shift in her seat.

“I was always taught that a gentleman waits for an invitation.”

She fixed on his mouth, wondering what it would feel like. Would his lips be firm or soft? How would his tongue feel? How would he taste? She wet her lips, telling herself it was just a nervous reaction.

“That's close enough for me,” Wade murmured and made his move.

Cupping her face, his mouth came over hers with smooth and well-practiced confidence. His kiss was an unhurried exploration, his lips sliding warm and firm over hers. Slanting his head, he added tiny, teasing flicks of his hot tongue and then toe-curling nips of his teeth until he caught her lower lip between them. He slowly released, staring into her eyes as if waiting for her to protest, but Nikki was too overcome to make any sound.

When she made no sign of resistance, he claimed her mouth again, but this time he was more demanding, his tongue probing the seam of her mouth until she parted her lips. The first contact of his tongue jolted her senses. Shutting her eyes and stifling a moan, Nikki curled her fingers in his hair, losing herself in the sensation of their tangling tongues.
Holy
shit! This man knows how to kiss
.
Too
well.
It took all she had not to melt into the seat beneath him.

That thought was enough to jar her brain and kick her protective instincts back into gear. She pressed her hands against his chest, but he was first to break the kiss.

“I didn't invite that,” she insisted, knowing it was a lie.

“I think you did, but don't worry. I won't do it again until you ask.”

“What makes you think I will?” she challenged.

He turned the key and started the engine. “Because you enjoyed that every bit as much as I did. I dare you to deny it.”

She couldn't. The kiss promised dangerous things. It had been a long time since she'd felt attraction this strong. Maybe never, but Wade Knowlton was everything she'd sworn off—all in one big hot cowboy package.
Shit.
Very bad word choice. Her gaze instinctively drifted southward to his crotch. She shifted it quickly away. She definitely didn't need her mind to go
there.

Another silence ensued, longer and less companionable than the ones before. “Do you mind if I turn on some music?” she asked, eager for any distraction.

“Be my guest, though I warn you there aren't many choices.”

Intent on replacing the tension that permeated the air with music, Nikki reached for the radio dial. It was then she noticed the lack of an audio jack or even a CD player. “How old
is
this truck anyway?”

“I'd guess it's about a 1980 vintage, which makes it about as old as me,” he said.

“Really?” She laughed nervously. “I don't think I've ever ridden in a vehicle that was older than I am.”

“And how old is that,” he asked.

“Twenty-eight last month,” she said.

“You seeing anyone?” he asked.

The question, posed out of the blue, took her by surprise. “Not presently. It's been a good six months since I've dated anyone seriously.” She turned the dial, flipping absently through static-filled stations. Finally hitting a station with a decent signal, Nikki quit fumbling with the radio. The upbeat tempo of Rascal Flatts's “Life is a Highway” filled the air. Country.
Argh
. She
hated
country. The music was a reminder of all too many mistakes she'd made.

“I'm guessing it was a bad breakup?” he said.

“Yeah.” She gave a dry laugh. “You might say that. Why do you ask?”

“I'm just wondering why you seem so gun-shy.”

“I have a number of good reasons to be—most of them with first and last names.”

“We're not all assholes, you know, so you shouldn't hold it against every man you meet. You can trust me when I say I'm here to help you, not to hurt you.”

“Why?” she asked. “Why have you gone out of your way for me like this?”

He grinned. “Technically speaking it isn't that far out of my way.”

“I'm not talking about the drive. I mean the airport, picking me up, feeding me, and giving me a place to stay.”

“Maybe because it's the right thing to do…or maybe it's because I like you.”

“Like me? You don't even know me,” she insisted.

“I know enough”—he shrugged—“and I like what I see.”

Ditto, cowboy.
She'd been taking a subconscious inventory of him from the moment she'd met him and was hard pressed to find anything
not
to like. On top of all that, one kiss had scattered her wits to the four winds. Her attraction to Wade was growing worse by the hour. Some way, somehow, she needed to get away from him. Nikki closed her eyes, drifting off on those dangerous thoughts.

“Here it is,” Wade announced. “Don't blink or you'll miss it all.”

Nikki opened her eyes to find they'd arrived in Virginia City. She almost gaped when they drove down the center of town. Lined with false front buildings with clapboard siding, it looked like the set of
Gunsmoke
. “This is it? There isn't even a traffic light.”

“Nope.” He chuckled. “The onetime capital of the Territory of Montana, and now the seat of Madison County, has fewer than two hundred full-time residents.”

“It's surreal. I'm half expecting to see horses and stagecoaches…and a saloon.”

BOOK: Slow Hand
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