Page 15 of The Rancher's Pregnancy Surprise

Tension turned him rigid behind the wheel of his black truck, fingers gripping the steering wheel a bit too hard as he watched Acacia struggle with the oversized trash bag.

The temperature had dropped to fifteen degrees that morning, and her breath materialized in small puffs of white mist as she hauled the garbage toward the dumpster behind Hartland Books.

It had been two weeks since she'd arrived in town. Two weeks since he'd watched her climb down from the bus at Laramie station, only to turn her back on him without a single word of goodbye. Two weeks of him keeping his distance while simultaneously ensuring he knew her every move.

This morning, she'd dressed more appropriately for the weather than when she first arrived—thick wool coat, knee-high boots, and a knitted beanie pulled over her red-gold hair—but the way she moved betrayed her discomfort with the cold. Miami-bred through and through. Acacia might as well have landed on another planet.

He smiled, remembering how she'd tried to de-ice her apartment door lock with hot water three days ago, only to create an even thicker sheet of ice when the water instantly froze. Or the time she'd stepped into a snow drift that was much deeper than it appeared, disappearing almost up to her waist with a shriek that had nearly made him blow his cover.

Yesterday, she'd worn leather-soled boots on her walk to work, and he'd watched from across the street as she performed an unintentional ice-skating routine down Main Street, arms pinwheeling wildly before she managed to grab onto a lamppost.

Every damn time, his heart had nearly stopped.

Miami to Hartland, Wyoming. The difference might as well be what divided heaven and hell, and Ronan had seen how it wasn't just the weather Acacia had originally struggled with.

He had also witnessed her bewilderment at the early closing times of local shops. Had noticed her confusion the first time she encountered Hartland's Wednesday tradition of "power conservation day," when businesses deliberately dimmed lights and limited electricity usage.

The confusion on her face when everyone in Redwood Cafe greeted each other by name. The way she'd frozen like a deer in headlights when Ethan's young wife Anah had invited her to join their book club. And the look of shock on her face when she realized that there truly werezerochances of connecting to the Internet while in town.

Acacia finished wrestling the trash into the dumpster and turned back toward the bookstore, brushing her gloved hands together. Ronan's eyes narrowed as he spotted the patch of black ice on the sidewalk directly in her path. Without thinking, he pushed open his truck door and was moving before his brain had fully formed the thought.

She didn't see it coming. Her right foot hit the ice and immediately slid forward while her left remained planted, creating a perfect split that would have been impressive if it hadn't been accidental.

She started to fall, but he caught her in time, and he felt her freeze as soon as her stunned gaze collided with his.

She was shocked.

He was aroused.

And as soon as Acacia became aware of his hardened state, she quickly pushed him away, and he reluctantly let her go.

She stared at him, her lip visibly trembling. Everything she felt was painted in the icy clarity of her bright blue eyes.

The recognition and relief.

The desire she couldn't quite hide.

And layered beneath it all, the unmistakable flash of frustration. She missed him but hated that she did. She was glad to see him but she also hated herself for this. Her mind wanted nothing to do with him, but her body desired everything about him.

"Hello again." He smiled at her, but she didn't smile back.

No matter.

The sexual tension between them was as explosive as ever, a living, breathing thing that seemed to create its own heat in the frigid Wyoming air.

"I can report you for stalking."

Ronan raised a brow, amused despite himself. "I'm only here to pick up a book I ordered."

Her eyes widened.

He gave it a few seconds.

And finally, understanding dawned.

"The Shakespeare first edition," she said stiffly. "That's yours?"

He showed her the receipt. "Taming of the Shrew," Ronan drawled. "Don't you think it's fitting?"

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