Page 29 of Cowboy Devil's Embrace

“I think we can help each other,” he replied boldly.

His stare was borderline rude. I cleared my throat and held my breath for a moment, trying to calm my runaway nerves.

Okay, so the guy was hot. There was still no reason for me to forget myself just cause he had a devil’s smile and eyes that glittered like my favorite sapphire pendant tucked away in my jewelry box at home.

It was one of the few treasures I’d kept after the divorce, selling everything else I had to go all in with the bakery. Not that piece, though. It was special. I’d gotten it from my mother.

“Well, what do you say?” he asked, and I swear I felt that sexy rumble all the way to my toes.

Never had I been so immediately attracted to someone. But there was something about him that made me want to walk around the display case and plaster myself to his super sexy, muscular body.

Come to mama.

Eeep!

I couldn’t believe I just thought that. I needed to clear all the lustful thoughts I was having right out of my head. This man was a customer, and it just wasn’t like me to drool over customers.

For heaven’s sake, I was a professional, and this was my place of business. Not some bar where I went to pick up guys. Not that I did that either.

Was it hot in here?

I wanted to fan my face but resisted. Barely. I was already making as much of an ass of myself as I was willing to.

I opened my mouth but made the mistake of looking at him again, and all capabilities of coherent speech just flew right out of my head.

Oh. My. God.

His sapphire blue eyes met mine, framed by impossibly dark lashes, and I shivered at the heat I saw inside them. My breathing grew shallow, and I had the funniest feeling way down deep, past my belly.

Like right between my thighs. And how the hell was I supposed to react to that?

In the seven years I’d been a married woman, I had never been so thoroughly turned on in so little time, if ever. But there was something about him that told me he knew exactly how to make my motor run.

But this feeling, this attraction, went deeper than my lusty appetites, which was something my ex often complained about.

Burt always made me feel like there was something wrong with me for wanting sex. Like I was irregular or broken because I craved intimacy.

Anytime I was in the mood was just never the right time for him. I always felt embarrassed and rejected when he gave me that look and shook his head.

At first, I thought it was my body he was uncomfortable with. I tried dieting and wearing clothes he liked. But that didn’t work. Then I thought maybe I was bad at sex.

The jury was still out on that one.

True or not, at least now I knew Burt just didn’t want it with me.

But this guy? He looked like he wanted me. In fact, I was almost sure he did.

Was that weird?

He smiled at me, a wicked grin and I felt my lips return the expression before I could even think about what I was doing. It was like a strange sort of vibe had settled over me.

My anxieties fled till all I felt was warmth and comfort, excitement and thrill. I felt like I knew him. But that was silly. He was a stranger.

Okay, so maybe not knew.

Maybe recognized was a better word. But that was equally ludicrous.

Where the heck would someone like me, a regular country bumpkin or as close as I could get to being one in the Garden State, have met someone like him?

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