passion of the previous night. She definitely was not
the ice princess he’d thought. No matter how regal she appeared at
the office or even wading through snow, she became an uninhibited
tigress in his arms.
Well, sometimes the tigress also became a
cuddly kitten, but certainly not the frosty woman he thought her at
first. He’d learned she had no love interest and hadn't for a long
time. Not that he pried exactly, but he coaxed, listened, and
waited for answers around the plant.
He’d never heard one word against Holly,
except a few disgruntled swains who called her the "Snow Queen" or
"Ice Princess." No doubt they considered her cold because she had
turned down their advances. They would never hear differently from
him, but Trent knew that Holly Ann Tucker was anything but frigid.
She was one hot babe. He smiled to himself at the thought, then
sobered.
How did Holly view their time between the
sheets? Surely he could not be mistaken about her inexperience nor
the thought that her yielding to him brought more than just her
body. Did a woman of her sophistication separate sex and love?
The thought shocked him and he stumbled
but caught himself. Love? Not a word he spoke lightly. In fact, not
a word he’d ever used. He
guessed she wasn’t one to toss it around casually
either.
She glanced over her shoulder. “You’re the
one who told me to be careful.”
“ Yeah, yeah.” Okay, he had to reel in
his emotions. He realized he was definitely infatuated, more than
merely intrigued with Holly. The feeling went too deep, consumed
him with a fiery need too hot to quench with a few nights of
passion. But that didn’t necessarily mean he wanted to spend the
next sixty or seventy years with the woman, did it?
He shoved open the barn doors and they went
inside. He set to caring for the cattle while she went to the
chicken feed. It was as if they’d done this every day for ages.
He mixed cattle feed and lost himself in
thought. Even his past few years of infrequent and carefully
selected lovers had left him with enough encounters to know his
experience with Holly eclipsed all others. What must she think of
him? For some mysterious reason, she’d hated him before
yesterday.
After last night, a giant change had occurred
in their relationship. It wasn't just the great sex, either. And
man, the sex had blown his socks off. The way she handled herself
at first left no doubt of her inexperience, but what a fast learner
she turned out to be.
The change in her between and after the
countless times they had sex astounded him. She had snuggled
against him, exchanged confidences as if they were truly one, and
seemed loathe to stop talking even when sleep claimed their
exhausted bodies. In short, Holly now seemed to accept him with at
least a fondness and easy companionship.
Could it be that she was at least a little
infatuated with him? Imagine that? Trent Macleod, the orphaned
sailor with no degree but hard knocks, linked to a classy woman
like Holly Tucker? It boggled his mind. Still, he’d watched this
sort of thing in others too often. Passion flared, then cooled, and
the couple parted. That had to be it. Sure, he was the only boat in
port. Soon he'd have his fill of her and she of him.
Who did he think he was he kidding? She might
tire of him, but he was pretty sure he’d never get his fill of
her.
He knew a guy like him didn’t deserve a woman
like Holly. What could he offer a treasure like her? So, if things
were as bad as he feared and his craving for Holly wasn’t just
lust, but something deeper, and if her attraction developed for
him, and if this Marvel deal worked out, he could ask her to be
his.
A hell of a lot of ifs, Macleod.
Once again he prayed that his finances were
solvent, the meeting postponed to be followed by success.
Otherwise, he not only had nothing, Holly’s own finances and those
of her family plus the jobs of their employees were in
jeopardy.
He pitched hay and remembered what people
told
the ice princess he’d thought. No matter how regal she appeared at
the office or even wading through snow, she became an uninhibited
tigress in his arms.
Well, sometimes the tigress also became a
cuddly kitten, but certainly not the frosty woman he thought her at
first. He’d learned she had no love interest and hadn't for a long
time. Not that he pried exactly, but he coaxed, listened, and
waited for answers around the plant.
He’d never heard one word against Holly,
except a few disgruntled swains who called her the "Snow Queen" or
"Ice Princess." No doubt they considered her cold because she had
turned down their advances. They would never hear differently from
him, but Trent knew that Holly Ann Tucker was anything but frigid.
She was one hot babe. He smiled to himself at the thought, then
sobered.
How did Holly view their time between the
sheets? Surely he could not be mistaken about her inexperience nor
the thought that her yielding to him brought more than just her
body. Did a woman of her sophistication separate sex and love?
The thought shocked him and he stumbled
but caught himself. Love? Not a word he spoke lightly. In fact, not
a word he’d ever used. He
guessed she wasn’t one to toss it around casually
either.
She glanced over her shoulder. “You’re the
one who told me to be careful.”
“ Yeah, yeah.” Okay, he had to reel in
his emotions. He realized he was definitely infatuated, more than
merely intrigued with Holly. The feeling went too deep, consumed
him with a fiery need too hot to quench with a few nights of
passion. But that didn’t necessarily mean he wanted to spend the
next sixty or seventy years with the woman, did it?
He shoved open the barn doors and they went
inside. He set to caring for the cattle while she went to the
chicken feed. It was as if they’d done this every day for ages.
He mixed cattle feed and lost himself in
thought. Even his past few years of infrequent and carefully
selected lovers had left him with enough encounters to know his
experience with Holly eclipsed all others. What must she think of
him? For some mysterious reason, she’d hated him before
yesterday.
After last night, a giant change had occurred
in their relationship. It wasn't just the great sex, either. And
man, the sex had blown his socks off. The way she handled herself
at first left no doubt of her inexperience, but what a fast learner
she turned out to be.
The change in her between and after the
countless times they had sex astounded him. She had snuggled
against him, exchanged confidences as if they were truly one, and
seemed loathe to stop talking even when sleep claimed their
exhausted bodies. In short, Holly now seemed to accept him with at
least a fondness and easy companionship.
Could it be that she was at least a little
infatuated with him? Imagine that? Trent Macleod, the orphaned
sailor with no degree but hard knocks, linked to a classy woman
like Holly Tucker? It boggled his mind. Still, he’d watched this
sort of thing in others too often. Passion flared, then cooled, and
the couple parted. That had to be it. Sure, he was the only boat in
port. Soon he'd have his fill of her and she of him.
Who did he think he was he kidding? She might
tire of him, but he was pretty sure he’d never get his fill of
her.
He knew a guy like him didn’t deserve a woman
like Holly. What could he offer a treasure like her? So, if things
were as bad as he feared and his craving for Holly wasn’t just
lust, but something deeper, and if her attraction developed for
him, and if this Marvel deal worked out, he could ask her to be
his.
A hell of a lot of ifs, Macleod.
Once again he prayed that his finances were
solvent, the meeting postponed to be followed by success.
Otherwise, he not only had nothing, Holly’s own finances and those
of her family plus the jobs of their employees were in
jeopardy.
He pitched hay and remembered what people
told
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