Second Chance Bride (Montana Born Brides) Read Free

she said, latching onto an alternate means of escape, albeit temporary, “how about I get you a beer or something?”
    “Had one,” he said, a slight frown creasing his brow while the fingers of one hand casually flicked open the buttons of his shirt. In spite of herself and her needing to flee, her feet stayed exactly where they were as her eyes were drawn to his chest, tan-skinned and dusted with hair. Firm skin. A dusting of hair rather than a forest. Just the way she liked it. Her fingers curled into fists, nails biting into her palms to stop them aching to reach out and run her fingers through it. “And the last thing I want right now is brewer’s droop.”
    She blinked, and had to drag her eyes away to meet his. “Excuse me?”
    “Too Aussie for you, sweetheart? I do want to be able to perform.”
    “Oh.” Heat scorched her cheeks and she looked away, although she wasn’t really sure it was because she was embarrassed at his words, or because he’d peeled off his shirt and dispensed with his jeans in quick succession, leaving nothing to cover him but a band of black, that hugged the nether regions of his body and left nothing to the imagination.
    Absolutely nothing.
    Suddenly her lungs felt as if they were flapping around like freshly landed trout on a lake shore. She put a hand over her chest to try to calm their flailing tails before they flapped right out of her. “Right,” she managed at length. “That would a shame.”
    He looked at her then, his eyes going from the cowgirl hat on her head all the way down to her boots and back again until her skin tingled inside and out, and he smiled a broad hungry smile that this time set every organ inside her flapping. “ Cowgirl, that would be all kinds of tragedy.”
    And he turned and swiped off his underwear, picked up his towels and padded naked to the private bathroom.
    Breathe she reminded herself, as the sight of the most perfect male buns she’d seen in a long time disappeared from view. Buns with dimples nestled just above, either side of the spine that bisected the two perfect halves of his back. Buns that sent a rush of heat to her blood and a tingling anticipation between her thighs.
    Because soon he and his buns and his dimpled spine and his hungry eyes would be back and they’d climb onto that big wide bed together and make love and...
    Whoa, right there!
    What the hell was she thinking, constructing some kind of fantasy version of what was happening here? There was no making love . No matter what his hungry eyes might say, this was sex, pure and simple. A business transaction pure and simple, nothing more.
    Business, she reminded herself, as she busied herself checking that everything was in order even though she already knew it was —the sheets freshly changed, the box of Kleenex at the ready, the condoms that were waiting on the bedside table.
    Three condoms, she couldn’t help but notice.
    Gulp.

    Mitch wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it sure hadn’t been the green-eyed cowgirl waiting for him in the bedroom. Sure, she looked hot enough with scarlet hair that matched her name and dressed in that cute little black and pink number and those perky little boots, Oh man, if those provocative little boots on the end of those pins were enough to make him hot under the collar, it had definitely been too long. Yes sirree, he’d been looking for hot. He just hadn’t expected the skittishness.
    But then, Bella or whatever her name was had said this girl was new. Maybe that was why.
    Or was that just part of the act?
    Maybe some guys went for that?
    He shrugged as he put his face into the stream of water to rinse his hair. He had no idea what other guys went for. But he’d handed over his credit card and he was paying the money and he was already half primed in anticipation. Something about that nutty combination of black satin and pink bows and red hair and green eyes and a name like Scarlett—because what else could she be called