A Silver Lining Read Free Page B

had learned years ago that men only thought with their cocks, and she had spent her entire adult life getting what she wanted by using her natural assets. Tristan Rogers didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell.
    As efficiently as the ranch ran, Tristan sometimes found himself without pressing matters to attend to, giving him time to think. Unfortunately, today was one of those days.
    Currently, he had a certain blonde bombshell on his mind, and damn if it didn't rattle his cage. The promising little girl from the back of his memories had grown up into a sexy, eye-popping woman.
    One dressed like a schoolgirl hooker.
    Tristan frowned. Something had changed about her, something had hardened her eyes and turned her lips down at the corners. The years hadn't been kind to Heather Hart.
    He rubbed a little harder with the leather conditioner, probably more than he needed, on the pommel. He had spent the rest of the afternoon inside cleaning the saddles after seeing her again, needing the monotonous routine to regain control of his thoughts.
    Twenty years ago she had been a wide-eyed little pixie who had caught him off guard as a young man. He had deliberately forced himself to not think about her because she had been jailbait. But now she was a woman, and his body had more than jumped to attention when he saw her again in her too-short skirt and too-tight shirt. His dick had just about turned to concrete in his jeans.
    Tristan frowned, then reached to adjust himself. Even just thinking about her made him hard. Damn.
    He wasn't a stupid man, despite a lack of higher education. Lincoln Hart had hinted he would inherit the ranch, but Tristan knew there was a sentimental streak inside the dying man. Lincoln wanted the land to stay in the Hart family, and so out of the blue the missing granddaughter shows up. Didn't take a genius to figure it out.
    Tristan loved Lincoln Hart like a father. He respected the weathered man for all he had accomplished to bring the ranch into the modern age. Lincoln had a head for management that had served the land well, prospering while many surrounding ranches fell prey to various financial hardships. And Tristan knew he could carry the ranch far into the future; Lincoln had taught him well.
    Now Tristan stood ready to lose everything due to the sentimental whims of death. He didn't blame Lincoln for wanting the ranch to stay in Hart hands, but Heather didn't seem the type of woman who would or could understand the intricate knowledge of a cattle operation.
    Several hands started running to the main arena near the house. Tristan rose from his seat and wiped his hands, re-capping the bottle of leather conditioner. He looked out of the barn and saw the ranch practically deserted. He followed the loud music, which came from the arena, long abandoned since Avery and Simon died.
    When he walked inside, he caught a glimpse of Heather Hart and stopped in midstride.
    Fuck.
    The sun had almost set when Heather left the house to make her way back down to the abandoned arena. She bypassed Mabel, who worked in the kitchen, and headed down the paved driveway. She had changed out of her schoolgirl outfit into Rio shorts and a tank that hugged her curves intimately.
    As she walked, she turned heads. She could feel the stares of the ranch hands as each one noticed her. But then again, she had planned it that way and made sure she put an extra wiggle in her ass as she walked. The shorts, worn without panties, accentuated her flat tummy and the diamond ring in her belly button. The tank had a hard time containing her generous breasts. She was sleek, toned, and tanned—a lethal trio for any man.
    When she got to her destination, she moved to the center of the arena and propped up her MP3 player, finding the warm-up song she wanted and hitting Play. Heather started her exercise routine, knowing the men watched her. Part one of her mission had begun.
    Her music was fast with a hard beat. Her hips swayed, and she made sure to