Page 16 of In Bed with the Rancher

Leaning away slightly, she looked up at him. “This is the biggest folly. Go home, find out who you are and what your commitments are. What your lifestyle is. Then we can think about kisses when you have answers about your life. Right now there are too many questions.”

He was silent, as if fighting an inner battle. She fought her own battle, stating what they should do, but wanting to kiss him. From the start he had been a good guy. He had been kind, helpful, trusting and trustworthy. He had been considerate, grateful for what she had done and was doing for him. Her first feelings and judgments about him had been good.

His hand ran down her back, down over her bottom. His hand was light as it drifted over her, but she tingled with his touch. She wanted the barrier of clothing out of their way. She tried to cling to caution, again reminding herself silently that she didn’t even know who he was. She shouldn’t be kissing him until she knew whom she was kissing. And even then, she didn’t want another broken heart.

She stepped away from him while they both were breathless. He looked as if he could devour her. She felt as if she wanted him to.

“I’ll say good night now and I’ll see you in the morning. And not before,” she said, walking away and too aware he stood watching her. He looked as solemn as she felt. His teasing, flirting and ready smiles had vanished.

“You can come tuck me in and make sure that I’m doing the best for my injuries,” he said in a deep voice.

Glad he was back to teasing, she turned to smile at him. “You’re doing fine without my help,” she said. “I hope you wake up tomorrow and remember your past and your current status. I’m glad I could help you today.” She blew him a kiss. “Goodnight, stranger,” she said, hoping to remind him of one big reason why the night had to end this way.

She stepped into her suite, closed the door and closed her eyes, momentarily remembering his kisses that had nearly melted all her resistance. He was far too good-looking and sexy. She knew as soon as Gerald got through to the sheriff, they might have answers about her new houseguest. A houseguest who had the sexiest kisses she had ever experienced.

How much longer could she guard her heart and continue to resist him?

Four

“Bill Smith,” he said softly as he looked at himself in the mirror. But that name, or any other, didn’t spark any memory.

He walked over to the bed, removed his boots and shed his shirt. Instead of lying back, he sat there, his hands on his thighs, thinking of the woman who’d just walked away. Ava had called him “stranger,” to remind him of his status and why they shouldn’t kiss. He didn’t have any memories, but he couldn’t imagine he had known any woman who was sexier than Ava. She set him on fire with her kisses. He wanted her—in his arms and in his bed for the rest of the night. But Ava had been hurt badly by the jerk who walked out on her, and he didn’t want to hurt her further. Especially when she might have saved his life.

He could have been in bad shape out in the storm all night in a canyon, where trees were uprooting and falling and land was sliding down into the swelling creek that ran through that canyon. He wouldn’t have had anything to eat and no potable water to drink. No way to defend himself against any sizable wild animals. There were probably coyotes, snakes and heaven knew what else out there.

Instead, here he was in this comfortable suite. Until this storm was over and the creeks and rivers went down. Thanks to Ava Carter.

Ava. Her big blue eyes captivated him and her silky blond hair made him ache to touch it. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t keep from wanting her naked in his arms.

But every bit of wisdom he could summon told him to avoid intimacy at all costs. He didn’t want to hurt her in any way.

She was beautiful, capable, kind, intelligent and oh, so incredibly desirable and sexy. Just the thought of her made him break into a sweat and wipe his forehead. He could get hot, physically hot, hard and ready, just thinking about her.

He hoped that his memory would return soon. It couldn’t be too soon to suit him.

Who was he and where did he come from? Who was in his life? The questions plagued him. Molly had told him to let it go. To relax and let nature take its course.

She said not to push it trying to remember. But he couldn’t go on like this forever.

He looked at his hands. He had one small scar on the back of his left hand, and calluses on both. Because of that, they seemed convinced that he was a rancher. Or a cowboy. Plus, he remembered coming out of a chute on a horse at a rodeo. But how could he be certain?

Restless, he stood and paced around the room, then switched off the lights to go stand at the window. Constant lightning lit up the yard. She had lots of trees and landscaping in her fenced-in yard that probably hid rattlesnakes.

That thought surprised him and he didn’t know where it came from. He had to be a Texan. Why would he think about rattlesnakes? His head still pounded and he reminded himself again that Molly had told him to try to avoid stress and worrying about his memory loss.

He sighed and wished Ava was here with him. A night together would surely keep him positive and relaxed. Oh, man, a night with Ava. What a thought. Not one conducive to sleep and peace of mind.

He walked back to the bed, propped up pillows and stretched out to watch the rain. He was physically tired, but his mind was whirring and he knew sleep wouldn’t come for a while. He wanted to sink into thoughts about Ava and recall each breathtaking kiss that made him want one hundred more, made him want to get to know her. Really get to know her.

He closed his eyes, taking the memory further and envisioning her soft body pressed against him as he carried her to bed and made love to her for hours. Then, they’d sleep, and eventually wake up, and he would take her again.

He raked a hand down his face. Why was he torturing himself? He needed to leave her alone. He needed to get his memory back or use what wits he still had and get out of her life as soon as possible.

“Damn,” he whispered in the silent darkness and wondered if she was doing as poorly at sleeping. He hoped with all his heart they weren’t isolated, shut away in her cabin for days. If they were, could he exercise enough self-control?

If she changed her mind about sex, would it complicate his life terribly? There was no way he could say no to her. He tried to shift his thoughts elsewhere because that line of thinking wasn’t going to help him drift off to sleep. He got up and walked over to the mirror, looking at himself again, hoping that his eyes or his hair or his mouth would remind him of who he was, where he’d come from. It was pure hell not to know what was going on in his life and why he had been out in the boonies in a big storm.

But when he looked in the mirror, he didn’t have a clue about himself. He prayed he would wake up tomorrow and have some answers. Despite everything he’d forgotten about himself, he knew he would never forget kissing Ava.

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