Wanted By The Cowboy Tiger (Heroes of Shifter Creek 3) by Clara Moore Page A

Krista said and she quickly closed her sketch pad. “Just being creative.”
                  Derek Shiloh was rugged and handsome, but she barely knew him. He was a local rancher who had befriended her one day when he was out looking for a lost cow. They’d made polite conversation, and since then he came to visit her often, claiming he didn’t like her camping out on her own, a sense of protection glinting out of those piercing blue eyes of his, made bluer by his tanned skin.
                  That’s what she had told him – that she was camping and collecting mineral deposits. It was a half-truth. She was a scientist studying the land. But it was people she was hoping to find, not minerals. People hunting raised questions. Minerals did not.
                  Krista probably could have trusted Derek with the truth, before her find. He was sincere, his need to protect her real. But she couldn’t tell him now, not with a man-beast lying so near. He may not understand like she did. Years of reading Native American legends had prepared her, eased her into the possibility that shifters existed. If she showed Derek the bones of the man-beast, his whole sense of reality could be destroyed. He wanted to protect her, but she wanted to protect him just as much.
                  Derek held his hand out. “The sun is going down. Come join me in the shade. I brought some brew.”
                  Krista gladly accepted his hand and followed him out of the tent. Standing next to him, she was reminded how tall and strong he was, built like a mountain of muscle, muscles that peeked through his navy blue T-shirt and jeans. As he reached down to put a six pack of beer into her cooler, she couldn’t help but glance at his broad but firm behind.
                  They don’t make them that good in the city , she thought.
                  “Over there,” Derek said, pointing to a rock formation nearby, holding the cooler. “There’s some shade over there.”
                  Allowing him to take charge, she followed him to the shade. It was blissful, much cooler than her tent, but Krista couldn’t relax. Sitting with her shoulder pressed against Derek’s was electric. They were so close, a section of her long glossy brown hair cascaded over his T-shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind.
                  “To new friends,” Derek toasted, cracking open a beer and handing it to her.
                  “To new friends,” she said as he opened his own and she took an eager sip. Normally, she preferred a sweet mimosa over beer, but being so far away from civilization tore down her boundaries, made her more adventurous.
                  “How did you get here?” she asked, realizing she didn’t see his truck.
                  “Bridget dropped me off,” he explained. “She’s my right hand man at the ranch. Well, right hand woman. She needed the truck to run an errand.”
                  Krista’s heart dropped. In all of his short visits, she had never considered Derek was involved with someone else. “That was nice of her,” she mumbled, setting the beer aside. Now, it only tasted of disappointment. “I can give you a ride back, if you want.”
                  He laughed. “A cactus can move faster than that heap of junk,” he said, meaning her tiny smart cart. “And I don’t think I’d fit.”
                  She wasn’t offended. His laughter could never offend her. And he was probably right. With all her equipment locked away in the back seat, there was little room for him. “Then how will you get back?”
                  He gave her his full attention, a flicker of emotion taming his bright smile. “Maybe I don’t want to go back,” he said.
                  It was an odd thought, but the first thing Krista could think of was