Then she lifted her head and looked into Ally’s eyes, seeming to want peace between them, too.

Which meant, Ally knew, she had to take the next step and pet the dog, too.

With Duchess watching as cautiously as Ally was watching her, she moved her hand once again.

Ally gently stroked first one paw, then the entire leg, before ever so tenderly moving her hand to the dog’s chest, and then the sensitive spot behind her long, floppy ear. Oddly enough, the action was almost as soothing to Ally as it was to the canine. Noting how good Duchess looked with her clean, silky-soft coat, and dark liquid eyes, Ally smiled. And could have sworn the dog smiled back at her.

Maybe this experience would help her-if not actually like dogs, then at least tolerate being around them. And vice versa, Ally thought.

Which, of course, was when the back door opened and Hank strode in.

Pleasure lit his midnight-blue eyes. “Well, now, what have we here?” he boomed in a baritone worthy of ol’ Saint Nick. Clearly unable to resist, he teased, “A softening of that stone wall around your heart?”

The heat of embarrassment swept her cheeks. Ally dropped her hand and stood. “Obviously, I had to do this.”

Hank took off his wet rain slicker and hung it on the wall, then his hat. “Obviously.”

Ally watched Hank run his hands through his disheveled hair. “I startled her,” she explained.

He scanned Ally from head to toe, lingering on her rain-splattered trench coat. “And you didn’t want to get bitten.”

She shrugged out of her own coat and hung it on the hook next to Hank’s. “No, I did not.”

He kneeled down to pet the reclining retriever. “Hmm.”

Ally scrambled to pick up the things scattered across the floor. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to put her in the mudroom?”

He looked at the full food and water dishes in the corner, then gallantly lent a hand. “You weren’t here when I left.”

Together, they carried Ally’s belongings to the kitchen counter. “You could have left me a note.”

“I did.” He pointed to the message on the blackboard, next to the ancient wall phone. “I assumed you’d come in the front door.”

He went back to arrange the pile of blankets in an inviting circle, then motioned for Duchess to come toward him. She moaned as she got up and ambled stiffly forward to collapse on the soft, makeshift bed.

Hank petted her briefly, then came back into the kitchen.

He smelled like winter rain.

“How did your meeting with the Realtor go?”

Not good. Ally unpacked the groceries she’d bought to get her through the next few days. “Marcy Lyon gave me a whole list of things that need to be done to the ranch house before the property goes on the market, if I want to get top dollar.”

“Such as…?”

Ally opened the fridge and saw a delicious looking slab of beef from Sonny’s Barbecue, a restaurant in Laramie. “Removing all the wallpaper and painting the entire interior, for starters.”

While she put items away, Hank got out containers of restaurant coleslaw, potato salad and beans. “You could sell it as is.” The mesquite-smoked brisket followed.

Ally ignored the scent of fine Texas barbecue and kept out a container of yogurt, and a crisp green apple, for herself. “And lose thousands of dollars and the potential of a quick and easy sale? No.” She rummaged through the drawer for a spoon and filled a glass with tap water. “The look of this place has got to be updated before it officially hits the MLS listings. Marcy gave me a list of contractors to call. Hopefully, one of them will be able to help me out.”

Hank added barbecue sauce and a package of freshly baked wheat rolls to the spread on the kitchen table. He shut the fridge door and swung around to face her. Amiably, he offered, “I could help you out if you’d agree to delay the sale for a short while.”

Beware unexpected gifts in handsome packages. “And do what?” Ally challenged, ripping off the foil top to her yogurt.

He lounged against the counter, arms folded in front of him. “Give me a chance to pitch my plan to turn this ranch into a money-making operation.”

Ally swallowed a spoonful of creamy vanilla yogurt and held up one hand to stop him. There was no way she was ever going to be as impractical and starry-eyed about the land as her parents had been. “I’ve heard enough plans,” she stated simply.

Hank’s dark brows lifted. Ignoring his skeptical look, she stirred her yogurt and pushed on. “That was all my father ever did-was come up with one scheme after another. None of which, mind you, was ever implemented… at least not effectively.” Hence, the Mesquite Ridge Ranch had become a giant money pit rather than a paying investment.

Hank turned and reached for two plates. “There’s a difference. I grew up on a ranch. I come from a family of ranchers. I know I could make this work-to the point I’d be able to pay all the taxes and operating expenses in the meantime-and eventually buy the ranch from you outright. All you need to do is just give me a chance.”

Ally couldn’t deny it was what her parents would have wanted-for her to sell Mesquite Ridge to someone who loved the land as much as they did. That is, if they could not get her to keep it herself. Which she didn’t want to do. She watched as Hank set the table for two.

“Fine,” she snapped, irked by his presumption. “If you think you have all the answers and can turn this place around?” She set her yogurt aside and sauntered up to him. “Then show me the numbers on paper. ’Cause I’m not interested in any pipe dreams or half-formed plans. Only the cold, hard facts.”

Hank’s gaze scanned Ally’s face and body, lingering thoughtfully, before returning ever so deliberately to her eyes.

“How long do I have?” he drawled finally, in a way that left her feeling she had somehow come up short yet again.

“Until I officially put the property on the market,” Ally answered, mocking his take-charge demeanor. “December 24.”

“Fair enough.” Hank’s broad shoulders relaxed. He stepped back, smiling as if he’d already won her over with his brilliance and the deal was done. “In the meantime, you’re more than welcome to join me for supper. As you can see, there’s plenty.”

There was indeed.

Unfortunately, sitting down with him like this would add yet another layer of intimacy to a situation that was becoming far too familiar, too fast. Ally stiffened her spine. She had come back here, against her will, to end this unhappy saga of her life. No way was she getting sucked back in again, with small town kindness or friendly overtures from handsome men with designs on her family’s property.

“No, thanks,” she said politely.

“Sure?” His genial expression didn’t falter.

Ally chose the one avenue she knew would turn him off-a hit on his legendarily fine character. Ignoring the flutter of her pulse, she stepped away from him and stated in a coolly indifferent tone, “Supplying me with dinner will not give you an edge over any other prospective buyer.”

As she expected, he remained where he was. The room was suddenly still enough to hear a pin drop.

His irises darkened to the color of midnight. He stepped closer. “Is that so?” His voice was silky-soft, contemplative. And somehow dangerous in a deeply sensual way.

Ally could see she had insulted him-just as she had intended-and created a real rift between them, simply by making the allegation. Refusing to back down, she folded her arms in front of her. “Yes.”

“Then how about this?” Hank demanded.

Before she could do more than draw a quick, startled breath, he had pulled her into his arms. One hand pressed against her spine, aligning the softness of her body to the hardness of his. His other hand threaded through the hair at the back of her neck and tilted her face up. Slowly, he lowered his head toward hers. “And this?” he dared softly, a wicked grin curling the corners of his delectably firm and sensual lips.

As his breath warmed her face, she drew in the scent of wintergreen, and beneath that something masculine… brisk…like the chill winter rain falling outside. His mouth dipped lower still, until it hovered just above hers. “Will this give me an edge?” he taunted.

More like a demerit.

Refusing to let him know how much the near caress was affecting her, Ally smiled at him cynically and narrowed her gaze. “Go ahead and kiss me,” she challenged sweetly. “It won’t matter, either way.”

“Good to know,” Hank murmured, lowering his head all the more, until the only way to get any closer was to kiss her. “Because if I wanted to seduce you into selling the ranch to me,” he informed her softly and patiently, “I’d do this.” His lips brushed hers. Tentatively, then wantonly, as a thrill unlike anything Ally had ever felt swept through her.

“Not just once,” he promised, kissing her hotly, “but again and again and again.”

Hank kissed her with the steady determination of a marine, and the finesse of a cowboy who knew how to make happen anything he wanted. He was at once masculine and tender, persuasive and tempting. Seducing her in a way that left no room for denial. Ally caught her breath as her hands moved involuntarily to his shoulders and she tilted her head beneath his…

Hank hadn’t figured he’d be putting the moves on Ally Garrett, now or ever. It wasn’t that he wasn’t physically attracted to her-he was. But he knew the two of them were all wrong for each other. And always would be. Yet the coolly provoking way she stared into his eyes, combined with the way she was testing him, made him want to haul her into his arms, and challenge her right back. And damned if instead of getting angry and slapping him across the face-and putting an end to this ludicrousness-she was pressing her body against his and kissing him.

As if she meant it.

As if she hadn’t been kissed in a good long while.

As if she needed to feel close to someone again.

And wasn’t that the kicker? Hank thought, as his lingering kisses continued to knock her for a loop.

They shouldn’t be doing this, and yet he couldn’t seem to summon up the urge to put an end to it, either. Not without indulging for a few minutes more…


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT a totally ill-advised makeout session with a self-serving cowboy could make her feel so good? Ally wondered as Hank wrapped arms around her. He gathered her so close she could feel the hard, hot muscles of his chest pressing against her breasts, and his heart slamming against his ribs.

He opened his mouth, exploring every inch of hers with his tongue, encouraging her to do the same to him.

Whoever would have thought she and the land-loving Hank McCabe would have anything in common? Especially when she intended to go right back to the city, as soon as her task was done…

When he finally came to his senses and released her, he looked as stunned by the passion that had flared up between them as she was.

Hank stepped abruptly. “Fortunately for you-” Hank’s jaw tightened with the implacableness she expected from a McCabe “-the only way I’m interested in securing this property is by triumphing over the other bidders, fair and square.”

Of course he was thinking about the ranch!

Mesquite Ridge was probably the only thing he’d been thinking about during the last five minutes.

Whereas she, Ally noted sadly, had foolishly romanticized Hank McCabe’s pass to the nth degree. Damn her foolish heart! “Well, that’s good, because ‘fair and square’ is the only way you’ll get it!” she retorted, relying on her inherent cynicism for self-preservation. Legs trembling, she swept up her dinner and her soft leather shoulder bag. She cast him one long, scathing glance before storming past him. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some calls to make.”

And some incredibly hot, passionate kisses to forget.

Chapter Four

An hour and a half later, Hank was in the mudroom, checking on Duchess, when he heard Ally come back into the kitchen. The sound of cabinets opening and closing followed.

Curious, he stood and ambled in to join her. Ally did not look as if things were going her way. “Need something?”

She rocked back on the heels of her red cowgirl boots. With her honey-blond hair in disarray, she looked prettier than ever. “Coffee. And I can’t even find the coffeemaker.”

Trying not to notice how nicely the crisp white shirt and gold tapestry vest cloaked the soft swell of her breasts, Hank admitted, “It bit the dust a while back.” Briefly, he let his gaze drop to the fancy belt encircling her slender waist, and the jeans molding her hips and long, luscious legs. Just that quickly, he wanted to haul her into his arms and kiss her again.