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“I thought you were a good little Italian girl.”
“I’m a Jersey girl, Cowboy, and don’t you forget it.” She broke away from his grasp and headed toward the family room.
She walked away, her narrow hips swaying gently in her voluminous skirt. With just a little urging, that frothy fabric would slide over her beautifully curved bottom and pool onto the floor, revealing legs that he was sure would be long, slender, and shapely. And between them, a moist and sweet center. He wanted a taste of her. Of all of her.
Damn. He needed to get laid. There hadn’t been anyone since Chelsea, and those last few years their sexual encounters had been few and far between. Nothing since their separation either. Dallas’s personal code of ethics wouldn’t allow him to cheat on his wife.
But as of this afternoon, he no longer had a wife.
* * *
Driving home next to Dallas McCray heightened every nerve in Annie’s body. Each time he shifted his five-speed Mercedes, his elbow brushed hers, and a spark ignited at the contact and ran up her arm, radiating throughout the rest of her body. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t even her type.
But how could Dallas McCray not be anyone’s type?
He was a cowboy, for one, and she had never had a thing for cowboys. Of course, growing up in New Jersey, she hadn’t seen a lot of cowboys. Gamblers? Yes. Drunks? Yes. Hit men? A few. But no cowboys.
But a cowboy he was, and a remarkable specimen of the breed. His green western shirt was open at the collar, and a few black chest hairs peeked out. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his forearms, dusted with more black hair, flexed with each shift. All that muscle and sinew. What would they feel like around her?
Then there were his hands. Big and strong. And beautiful. The man had beautiful hands.
“So you’re staying in the apartment above the vet clinic?” he said.
She cleared her throat, giving herself time to answer without stuttering. “For now, anyway. I didn’t bring a lot of stuff from Jersey so I don’t need a lot of space.”
“Is this a permanent move for you?” His voice was low and husky. Very sexy.
“I’m not quite sure yet. But I like it here so far. I’m from a big glitzy town, so this is a nice change.”
Dallas chuckled softly. “Bakersville’s a lot of things, but glitzy it ain’t.” He pulled his car into the alley behind the clinic. “I’ll walk you up.”
“There’s no need,” Annie said. If she didn’t get away from him soon she feared she might throw herself into his sinewy arms.
“Doc, there’s something you need to learn about us cowboys.” His western drawl crept up her neck and into her ears. “We’re gentlemen, and we always see a lady to her door.”
“That’s silly. This isn’t a…date or anything.”
“Doesn’t make a difference, Doc.” He stepped out of the car and came around and opened the door for her before she could object further. “Come on. I’ll see you up.”
They walked in the back door of the clinic and climbed the stairs to the entrance to Annie’s apartment.
“Th-Thank you for the ride home,” she said, fidgeting with her purse.
“Aren’t you going to ask me in? To thank me properly?”
“Thank you properly?” Her heart lurched. Surely he couldn’t be thinking…
“Yeah. Coffee or a nightcap?”
“Oh.” Heat crept up her neck. “I’m already thanking you by letting you eat dinner when Seraphina and I do our cooking together.”
“All right, Doc,” he said, his voice terse. “I get the picture.”
Geez, now he thinks I don’t like him. “I’m teasing,” she said quickly. “Of course you can come in. I’m afraid I don’t have coffee though. I can make a pot of tea. Well, herb tea.”
“Herb tea, huh?” His drawl curved into a lazy half smile.
“Don’t tell me. You hate herb tea.”
