Excerpt from No Strings Attached: Climax, Montana 4 — available on Amazon
Jet Chamberlain stops by the Circle C Ranch with his buddy, Houston. Both are desperate for work, and have been sent by Tom White to speak to Lila Frost, who is equally desperate for hired hands. Expecting the knock on the door to be from one of her many cousins, Lila answers the door having just come from a shower. Without looking at who it is she bends over, still towel-drying her hair.
“I hear you’re looking for a hired hand or two. My buddy and me are interested. Tom White at the diner said he’d call you.”
Lila’s heart stopped at the unfamiliar, way-too-sexy voice. She pushed her hair out of the way of one eye without standing up. The dusty work boots on the front porch were a scuffed tan, not police-issue black. Josh wore cowboy boots when he wasn’t in uniform.
They didn’t get visitors often, though family dropped in all the time. She had a reputation of being tough, one she’d worked long and hard to get. She’d been called a bitch and worse for standing up for herself. Too bad. She was no sweet little thing, and she was not going to bat her eyelashes over a man. This guy was a stranger, but with her luck he’d be two inches shorter and as ugly as a mule. But he and his buddy wanted work, Tom had given his approval, and she needed hired hands in the worst way.
She swept her upper body sideways to throw her long hair behind her back, and straightened. She started at the floor and looked up, taking her time. Above the boots were well-worn jeans snug around muscular legs. Long legs. He might even be her height. She checked the center of his hips to see if he wore a championship rodeo belt buckle. She judged people by whether they were tough enough to get the job done, and winning a rodeo took guts and determination. A battered black cowboy hat dangled there. Okay, that was a good start. Maybe he had his cowboy boots in his truck?
The denim shirt had seen better days. She took in his massive chest and broad shoulders. A tuft of dark hair peeked out of his shirt below his strong chin. A faint scar, perhaps a knife slash, ran along one dark-stubbled jaw. Along with the broken nose, it suggested he’d not had an easy life. His face was either tanned, or had a natural dark undertone. She wouldn’t know which unless he took off his shirt and showed tan lines. Oh, yeah!
Dark, intense eyes caught and held her. What might have been her stomach dropped to just above her suddenly damp thighs. Something seemed to flip inside her. Instead of standing up to him in her usual brash manner, she fought a sudden urge to drop her head. She’d believed she’d never find a man who would turn her on.
She was not only wrong, he was standing on her porch!
The stranger topped her by at least six inches. If he hugged her, the top of her head would fit under his chin. He waited for her answer, projecting a seductive aura of power and control. She’d seen the look before, on her more dominant uncles. Uncle Keith didn’t do it often, but when he looked across the room at Aggie that way, her boisterous aunt seemed to melt.
An unfamiliar twinge struck between her thighs. Another made her nipples contract into hard buds. He cleared his throat. His hat covered a certain part of his anatomy. Was it on purpose? Was he interested in her? As long as he wasn’t in a relationship…
She dropped her eyes, breaking the spell and reminding her of what she wore, and didn’t.
Oh, God, now was not the time to meet Mr. Studly Dom. Not when her hair was still wet and tangled and she wore nothing underneath her old silk robe!
