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ONE NIGHT TOGETHER

Entertaining the spinster aunt of his friend's flighty fiancée is a chore for rugged bad-boy Andrew Johnson. Except 'Auntie'__Rose Marti__ is actually a thirty-year-old knockout! Who could blame the footloose bachelor for trying to charm Rosy into bed? Rose's Niece is about to get married __ unless she can stop the wedding. but suddenly Rose is falling in love with Lean, handsome Andrew, and her plans are blown away. still, can this one determined woman tame a wild man like Andrew? Blame it on the heat? Andrew's mouth came down on hers and he continued to kiss her. Rose grew dizzy again, though this time from sheer desire, and not stifling temperature. still, it was probably a hundred degrees inside the car. She didn't know why Andrew had this effect on her, but she was a mass of quivering sexual awareness whenever he looked at her. And touched her. And kissed her in a way that said, 'I'm taking you to bed'... When his hand tangled with her dress hem and connected with a bare thigh, Rose knew she was in trouble. His lips dropped to neck, while his fingers skimmed higher to graze the silk underwear she'd foolishly worn on a hot day. His thumb dipped beneath the elastic and touched.... Rose struggled to sit up in the car. ‘Andrew, we can't do this here....’ Andrew grinned and pulled her close. ‘How about we go back to my house,’ he suggested lazily. ‘I could show you my quilts.’ The expression in his eyes was clear. 'Pure unadulterated lust'

JoannaAngel05 · 一般的
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60 Chs

WANT A RIDE??

"Well, now what?" Rose asked, looking at Andrew as if he had all the answers.

Now what? He could think of a number of things they could do to fill an evening, especially those that involved taking of their clothes and pretending that were alone in a hotel again.

"I think it's snowing," he said. "Can you hear the wind?"

"No." He could swear he saw the flicker of desire in those green eyes before she looked back down at her list of things to do. That's when he wondered if Dusty was right, if his bachelor days were numbered. And if he wanted them to be. Rose Marti wasn't the cinnamon-scented maternal ranch woman he'd pictured in his home. No, instead there was that intriguing scent of lavender and the vision of tangled sheets, soft skin and silken thighs.

Which beat the hell out of housekeeping any day.

"Want to take a ride?"

"On a horse or in a car?" She wrote something in the margin before looking at him again.

"Truck."

"I'm getting better at riding," she told him. "Even Bobby said so."

"I believe you, but what I want to show you is too far away."

"Where are we going?"

"Do I have to tell you everything?" Andrew held out his hand, which she took, and tugged her to her feet.

Rose hesitated as she neatly stepped around the dog bed. "Can I take Pookie? I don't want to leave him here alone."

"If you want, or I can bring him over to Shorty.bi guess he's starting to like the little...guy."

She bent and picked up the dog and his battered little bed. "I will bring him. I may need a chaperone."

"I'm shaking in my boots," Andrew said, and held the door open.

Twenty minutes later he drove her through the open gate and onto the road that led to his place.

"You're on Johnson land now," he said, Wondering if she could think his pride was an odd thing, considering the modest house in the distance.

"Bobby's grandfather left this whole ranch to you?"

"Yeah. It belonged to his mother's family. They were original homesteaders in this country. It's small compared to the Dead Horse, but it's still big enough to make a living on."

"He must have thought a lot of you," Rose said, gazing at the distant house.

Andrew swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and tried to sound casual. "He wanted me close by to watch over his grandson."

Rose gave him a searching look, as if she realized how much he missed the old man. "He liked this ranch?"

"Yes." R.J kept the house up, though he could easily have had it torn down. He made repairs and acted just like someone lived there. Would live there. "He took good care of everything that was his."

"And now you're doing the same thing," she said, as they quickly approached the faded blue house.

"I try." Except everything that was his consisted of only his horse and his home, and from the deserted look of the place he hadn't done such a great job. He pulled up in front of the house and surveyed the front porch. It looked as if it could use a good sweeping, but then it always did. Without living here permanently he couldn't keep up with the Texas dust.

"Why don't you live here?"

"My job's on the Dead Horse for now, remember? I'll give you the grand tour, though." He shut off the engine and glanced down at the dog asleep at her feet. "Bring Pook in with you."

*****

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