Never Love a Cowboy Read Free Page A

twinkling stars that lay upon the midnight sky like diamonds on black velvet. For the next few months, she would sleep beneath them and use them to guide her journey.
    At the end of that time, if all went as anticipated, she would turn her modest savings into a considerable sum of money. Unlike Harry, who was motivated byambition, she was inspired by fear, fear that no matter how strong she was, she would never be strong enough to protect her heart.
    And her heart was definitely at risk. The image of the brand was seared in her mind. Texas Lady . Named for her. She’d never in her life felt like a lady, not a true lady. She’d been forced to give herself a mental shake in order to remember with whom she was dealing: a man who knew well how to cheat, a man who let it be known he wanted to bed her.
    While working Abbie Westland’s cotton fields during summer harvest, Jessye had learned that Harry had a tendency to sit in the shade, eat watermelon, and entertain the children with card tricks. He only went into the fields when Grayson Rhodes brought him an empty sack. And when next she looked, there he was again, sitting in the shade.
    He was in for a rude awakening. He wouldn’t find much time to squander on a cattle drive.
    Turning slightly, she lifted her gaze to the windows on the second floor that looked into the rooms reserved for paying guests. Harry and Kit rented rooms that faced each other across the long, narrow hallway.
    She saw the pale lamplight spill out of a window—Harry’s window. She didn’t want to think about what Harry might be doing, but she seemed unable to stop herself.
    He’d take off those fancy clothes he wore, clothes that would make any other man look like a dandy. It aggravated her that whenever she joined him at a table, she felt like the east end of a westbound mule, while he possessed an abundance of charm and sophistication.
    Sauntering through the cotton fields had bronzed his skin. When he shuffled the deck, his deft fingers mesmerized her. He had such a light touch that the cards barely whispered when he sorted them, and she had to fight against imagining those hands skimming over her body with as much expertise as they handled the deck.
    She enjoyed their verbal sparring, was challenged by his ability to always win with the hand he dealt. Out of deference to her suspicions, he played with his sleeves rolled up so she knew he didn’t sport any extra pockets or devices that would give him the cards he needed. But she also knew his forearms weren’t puny and white like those of a man who’d spent his life pampered. The veins bulged beneath his skin, and his muscles appeared hardened even when his arms were at rest. Made no sense, but little about him did.
    Damn, but she wished she could figure out how he cheated. Maybe then she’d stop watching him with an intensity that bordered on obsession. Lord help her, she had almost every inch of him memorized, trying to catch him in the act of swindling her.
    He swore he never cheated when he played her, but she knew that was an outright lie—otherwise, she’d occasionally win a hand. She wasn’t that poor of a poker player.
    Now he needed her—or more accurately, he needed her money. She might have given it to him with no strings attached if he didn’t always call her “Jessye love.” She trusted the endearment as much as she trusted the man. She knew he didn’t love her, and using the word made a mockery of an emotion thathad the power to wound unmercifully and heal unconditionally.
    The light from his window faded into darkness, and she realized he’d gone to bed. She dared not contemplate what he might not wear while he slept. Every time she changed the sheets on his bed, she wondered if they’d known the touch of his bare back…stomach…buttocks…
    Or did he sleep with nothing but the night air to caress his flesh?
    Squeezing her eyes shut, she spun around. She’d sworn never again to become involved with a man until she