A Cowboy Under Her Tree
"You want me to what?"Melanie McFarlane's fingers tightened around the glass stem of her lemon-drop martini as she stared at the stupefied expression on Russ Chilton's annoyingly rugged face. "I believe you heard me." It took an enormous effort, but she kept her voice low. Mild. It helped that she had a lifetime of keeping herself well modulated and in control.
That's what one did, after all, when one was a McFarlane. Heaven forbid that they actually indulge in some sort of human manner.
"I heard you," Russ muttered. His long fingers were wrapped around the base of his beer bottle. No icy pilsner glass for him. He probably figured he was too salt-of-the-earth to bother with such niceties. "I just figured you're off your bean or something."
Or something, definitely. In her current vocabulary, or something was code for increasingly desperate.
She swallowed. Slowl ... read full excerpt from A Cowboy Under Her Tree ebook
