Page 4 of The Rancher's Pregnancy Surprise

Plus the fact that I owe him $150, literally.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

I give my self-control a quick check one last time—

Yup, all good, still working.

—before finally lifting my gaze, and oh...no.

Why does he have to be the most beautiful man I've ever seen?

Why can't it be someone else?

Or just anyone really...except him?

I know I should stop staring, but seeing his annoyingly long lashes fanned against his bronzed skin presents a temptation I'm unable to resist. I just can't get over the sheer handsomeness of his features. How can someone with an attitude that leaves a lot to be desired...look so unbelievably desirable at the same time?

Every inch of him seems to have been crafted to tempt women to sin. The strong jaw. The high-boned cheeks. The very broadness of his shoulders and the mesmerizing expanse of his chest. Even his dark hair can make Claude die with envy: what this man's sable-black locks did naturally, my ex actually has to style his hair for hours, and all for the sake of his tortured-poet-persona.

This man is lethally better than Claude in every way, and...ugh, ugh, ugh.

I can't believe I did it again.

I've actually wasted precious time mooning over his looks—

"Enjoying the view, darling?"

—even if every word this horribly annoying man says makes me want to kick him in the mouth.

Manners maketh the man, sir, I'm almost tempted to growl at him. How can he not know that?A whirring sound shatters the silence then, and his recliner seat inches back into its 110-degree-angle at the push of a button. Lazy amber-colored eyes lock with mine as he finally turns to face me, and his lips slowly unleash the cockiest smirk I've ever seen.

Grrrr.

I would've given him the cold shoulder if I could, but since I do remember owing him money—

"Thank you for earlier," I manage to say instead as I open my purse. "I would've paid you back if you hadn't—"

"How about we agree to call a truce," he murmurs, "and I'll consider your debt fully paid."

I'm already putting my money back to where it still belongs even when he has yet to finish speaking. Beggars can't be choosers, 'Nuff said.

"So...why Hartland?"

I shrug, turning to stare out the window at the passing landscape. The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the plains we're crossing. Each mile that passes is another mile between me and my old life. Between me and Claude's betrayal.

"It's a nice little town," he continues, "but rather remote."

"I like remote."I like anywhere Claude isn't.

"Even if it means not being able to access the Internet unless you're in Laramie?"

That's precisely why I'm choosing it, I can't help thinking, but I also choose to keep the words to myself. Once burned, twice shy, yada, yada, yada.

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