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1
RIDGE
Lacy Hallman, my one and only one-night stand, the only woman I can’t get out of my head, and the one person I never expected to see tonight, watches me from across the room as I dance with my new fiancée.
My skin tingles and heats as her dark, hypnotic gaze tracks my every move. I still can’t believe she’s here. At my brother Brooks’s very public, very crowded wedding. It’s a gossip lover’s dream venue, and practically everyone from the town of Prospect is here, waiting and watching for the next bit of scandal.
What the hell is she thinking?
“I have to admit,” my fiancée, Chastity, drawls in my ear, “despite your crass demeanor, you’re a much better dance partner than I expected.” Her hands smooth over my shoulders, testing, maybe even teasing, and she presses closer, her pert tits brushing against my chest.
“Hmph.” It’s an unintelligible sound, but it’s the best I can do with all this anxiety—or is it excitement—humming through my veins.
It’s not Chastity driving up my blood pressure, though. Sure, my wife-to-be is beautiful in the conventional sense. Willowy, blonde, and gleaming, she’s upper-class style and grace personified. She’s also my future, and should be the one capturing my attention, the one turning me on.
But she’s not. We both know our marriage will be for appearances more than anything. Hell, I can barely stand to hold a conversation with her.
Instead, it’s a woman from my recent past—a woman I spent just a single night with—who’s got me hot and bothered.
Lacy.
Visions of her—wild, sweat-soaked, and coming hard—infiltrate my mind. I’ll never forget the wicked, turned-on glint in her eyes, the way her hips rolled and chased after mine like she couldn’t get enough. And the sounds she made, the way she moaned my name like a prayer.
Goddamn.
“Although, you’re still carrying a lot of tension. You’re a bit stiff,” Chastity blathers, oblivious to my wandering mind and the irony of her words.
Despite my best efforts to stop it, all the blood in my body has rushed to my dick.
At thirty-five, you’d think I’d have better control over myself, and normally I would, but with Lacy still staring at me from across the room, it’s impossible to even think straight. Especially when she’s easily twice as gorgeous as I remember.
No, not just gorgeous. She’s lush.
Lush as fucking hell.
Soft, full curves. Long, wild hair. Lips that, with just one look, you know can do some serious damage. Sensuous. Alluring. And…I need to get myself in check before this situation in my pants becomes embarrassing.
Chastity’s grip on my arm turns claw-like. “Are you even listening to me?”
“What?”
“I suggested dance lessons. I think it would be good for you to practice before our wedding.” Her eyes narrow, daring me to disagree.
She’s already given me a lecture about my bad behavior once tonight, reminding me I’m not her only option for a husband. Under usual circumstances her warning wouldn’t mean a thing. If it weren’t for my family ranch, Canyon Spring, I wouldn’t bother with marriage at all, but my controlling seat hinges on it.
Running the ranch is all I want—all I’ve got—and I’m willing to put up with a lot to secure it. Hell, I’ve already done a bunch of questionable shit to get my own way.
But dance lessons?
Fuck no. I’m not taking dance lessons or bowing to any of her other gentrification bullshit. I’m a rancher. A cowboy at heart. I do my dancing in the saddle. Or a bed.
Not on a parquet floor.
“We’re practicing now, and that’s the best you’re going to get.”
Her mouth pinches and nostrils flare, and it’s all I can do not to walk away. To call off this sham of an engagement so I can stalk up to Lacy, grab a handful of her exquisite, silky hair, and kiss the hell out of her, right in front of everyone, including my soon-to-be bride.
Except, I can’t. Even though she’s a giant thorn in my side, I need Chastity.
