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“Because I don’t trust Drake. The less he knows of my business, the better off I am.” She flashed a grin. “Wanna race to that cottonwood?”

He nodded, but when she kneed Scout, he held Runner back, taking in how her hair waved in the wind and the way her body flowed with the gait of the animal as it gained speed. Once again, he found himself wondering about the curves of her body. How smooth her skin must be. How warm and pliable it would be beneath his fingers.

She arrived at the cottonwood seconds before him, and the glow of her cheeks as she whipped her head around to proclaim her win had his insides spinning. Usually they didn’t dismount when they rode, but today Clint swung to the ground and grasped her waist, lifting her from the saddle.

“I win again,” she announced softly, her breath expanding the tiny waist his fingers held.

“Yes, you did.” He should put her back on her horse.

“I have a feeling you let me win.” She cocked her head sideways, eyeing him coyly. “Again.”

The urge to kiss her was something he dealt with daily, and each passing moment it took more and more control to resist it. He twisted her around and took one hand. Together they walked into the shade of the tree. “Now, why would I let you win?”

She swiveled, planting herself so her breasts almost touched his chest. “I ask myself that same question.”

Only the skin of their hands touched, but he could feel her from head to toe, almost as if she was a layer of clothing cloaking his body. It was a unique sensation, pleasurable and potent.

Rising on her tiptoes, bringing her lips close to his, she asked daringly, “Are you ever going to kiss me?”

Through the buzz in his head, he half heard his own nervous chuckle. “What?”

“You’ve been at the ranch for over two weeks and have yet to kiss me.”

His insides pounded with excitement. He shouldn’t, but he really wanted to. “Doreena—”

“Where were you headed when you found me in that tree?” she interrupted.

“I’ve told you,” he reminded her. “California.”

Using one fingertip, she traced a line from his elbow to his shoulder, causing little shoots of pleasure to race down his arm. “Why?”

It took a moment for him to recall his once oft-repeated clause. “To find streets lined with gold and women in scanty dresses.”

“There are no streets lined with gold.” The gentle breeze of her breath danced against his lips.

He shifted his feet, attempting to brace himself. “I suspected as much,” he answered, feeling as if he played with fire. “But the women do wear scanty dresses. I’m sure of it.”

A tiny giggle escaped her lips. “They might.” Her chin dipped and rose in a teasing way. “If I wore a scanty dress, would you kiss me?”

That vision was a bit more than he could take. His mouth went to hers, and the brush of their lips tickled his soul. Her sigh, soft and sweet, had his lips tasting hers again. The blending of their breath and flavor was powerful, and provided a glimpse of the paradise her eyes offered. He pulled her close. Enticed, his hands roamed her graceful curves. He thought he’d memorized her shape with his eyes, but finally feeling how every curve flowed perfectly beneath his palms had his blood pounding.

Swelling inside his britches, he attempted to pull out of the kiss. Doreena’s hands, warm and gentle, tightened the hold she had on the sides of his face, and the tip of her tongue ran along his bottom lip. Her bold playfulness demanded a response. Tugging until her body collided with his, Clint caught her tongue with his and drove the kiss to a heightened exploration. His imagination soared. Through their clothing, the tips of her breasts hardened against his chest. He could almost envision the dark peaks, knew they’d fill his mouth wonderfully.

His tongue danced with hers, and he held her firmly against him, imagining how glorious it would be to be inside her, rising to the apex of delight and releasing his seed to be embraced by her womb. The thought was suddenly sobering. He’d never dreamed of a woman bearing his children.

Practically trembling in his boots, he broke the kiss, but planted a few small ones on her cheek and nose and temple as she snuggled her head beneath his chin, leaning heavily against him.

Her hands kneaded his back. “Does that mean you want me to find a scanty dress or not?”

He couldn’t control the chuckle that escaped.

She lifted her head while her hands slipped down to settle on his waist. The look in her eyes was deep and thoughtful. Taking a step backward, she took his hand and pulled him down as she sat.

Once on the ground, the enthusiasm in his groin had him wanting to lay her down in the grass and remove her clothing piece by piece. He gave his head a clearing, scolding shake. He should be trying to fathom up an excuse to keep from kissing her, but that was impossible. His mind couldn’t think of anything except how sweet she tasted and how full of life he felt.

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