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Ranch heiress Angelina loves her leisurely life…until her father, a gorgeous ranch hand, and a long-buried secret turn it upside down.
Learn to run a ranch? Angelina Bay would rather wear last season’s clothes. But if she doesn’t, her father demands, she can kiss her inheritance goodbye.
Teach a spoiled heiress how to ride a horse? Not in this lifetime. Rafe Grayhawk is busy enough as a ranch hand, saving every extra penny to fund his chronically ill father’s move to Arizona—until beautiful Angelina makes him an offer he can’t refuse.
Rafe’s rules are simple—show up on time for lessons and do everything he tells her. Angie balks at authority, but soon riding lessons with the handsome hand are the least of her problems. She may lose her ranch anyway, and Rafe is the only person who can help her.
Excerpt:
Without thinking, only feeling, she pulled him toward her until his lips crushed against hers.
The kiss of a century…how wonderful, his soft sweet lips, so delectable against her own. Was it a hint of lime? Couldn’t be. Such a man as Rafe Grayhawk wouldn’t wear flavored lip balm. Millimeter by millimeter she feasted on those luscious lips, kissing first the top, then the bottom, running her tongue over their plumpness, then plunging it inside to taste his own. He kissed her back, swirling his tongue around hers in a playful manner that didn’t seem quite “him.” Yet it was. He nipped at her, tugged on her lower lip. Her sex pulsed between her legs. She was vaguely aware of her hips moving upward, then down again, upward, downward.
God, how she wanted him.
Her nipples strained against…nothing. Nothing covered them. What had she been thinking? But oh, she couldn’t think. She could only feel. Feel his chest lowering onto hers, the brush of his cotton muscle shirt against her hard nubs. Surely he could feel them poking into his chest. If only he’d lose the shirt…
He groaned into her mouth, then moved his lips to her cheek, raining tiny kisses along the way.
“You taste just like a Tequila sunrise. Sweet and tangy.” He nibbled on her shoulder.
Goosebumps erupted over her body. Her breasts ached, her nipples tingled. “Oh my God,” Angie said, her voice a whisper. “My nipples. Please.”
His lips trailed over her chin, along the contours of her neck and shoulders, until they lightly brushed one nipple.
She jolted. Tiny shivers skittered across her skin and landed between her legs.
How long has it been?
Years. Four? Five years? Back when she was engaged to Zach McCray.
How did I go this long without sex?
