Rocky Mountain Miracle

He stood up, a lithe, male movement of grace and sheer power, blocking her path. Cole towered over her. With his wide shoulders and muscular body, he made her feel intensely feminine. His hands found her wrists, his grip firm, but not hurting her as he drew her arms around his neck, fitting her body tightly against his hard, masculine frame. His arms caged hers, his thighs pressing against her until she was forced to walk backward to the dance floor. Immediately she was engulfed in flames, a wrenching desire spreading through her body and making her weak with need. His heavy erection was pressed tightly, unashamedly, against her stomach, spreading flames over her skin.

She said nothing. She refused to cause a scene by fighting him publicly, and in any case, she’d definitely wanted this. She wasn’t a child who lied to herself. She’d deliberately chosen to walk past him to give him another opportunity to claim her. She closed her eyes and drifted with him on a tide of sexual awareness, on arousal, on heat and flames and lust all mixed together. It was a unique experience for her. Maia felt her body melting into his.

Cole bent his head to the invitation of her bare neck. With her hair braided, it left her vulnerable to the brush of his mouth against her pulse. She fit perfectly in his arms, as if she’d been made for him. He felt the urgent demands of his body, but more than that, there was an unfamiliar longing that rose and lodged deep where he knew he wasn’t going to be able to remove it easily. Maia Armstrong left her brand on him, and he hadn’t even made love to her. Or maybe he was; he’d never actually made love to a woman before, and maybe that was what he was doing.

She stole his breath. Took his animal hunger and turned it into something altogether different. Cole’s arms tightened around Maia, urging her body even closer to his, wanting to imprint her into his bones. He had come to her to rid himself of demons for a night or two, but with her body fitting into his, something was softening inside of him, and for the first time since his childhood, Cole was terrified. He wanted to let her go and walk away, to be safe in his isolated world; but he couldn’t let go of her warmth or the promise of magic in the curves of her body pressed so tightly to him.

Cole became aware that the last notes of the song were fading away. He was completely confident when it came to women. He was a highly sensual man and knew how to make a woman need him. It always came easy to him. “I want to go home with you,” he said shamelessly.

Maia pulled out of his arms, refusing the stark hunger and dark intensity that drew other women to him so easily. She flashed her powerful smile, the one he felt all the way down to his stone-cold heart.

“Pheromones are nasty little devils, aren’t they?” Maia asked. “They strike at the most inopportune times.”

He couldn’t let her go. He saw it in her eyes that she was just going to turn and walk away from him. “Then come to the ranch with me.” Was that really bad boy Cole Steele acting desperate? What the hell was wrong with him? He should go straight to the woman at the end of the bar who was devouring him with her eyes and walk out with her. It would serve Maia right. He knew she wanted him. She couldn’t hide her reaction to him.

“You’re afraid of me,” he taunted her.

“Do I look stupid to you?” She stepped back cautiously, making certain she could walk without trembling. “Any woman with half a brain would be afraid of you. You have trouble stamped on your forehead and packaged not so subtly there in the front.”

“Nice of you to notice, since you’re the one causing the trouble.” He made it a challenge.

“Nice to know I can,” she replied, in no way perturbed by the accusation. “Go away, Mr. Steele. You’re way out of my league.”

The jukebox music shifted into another moody, sensual song, and Cole reached out to pull her back into his arms. “What puts me out of your league?”

She tilted her head to look up at him, which was a major mistake. His eyes were such a deep blue, almost metallic, and he looked at her with dark desire. With hunger. With possession and determination. There was a ruthless edge to his mouth and a need in the depths of his gaze she couldn’t avoid. Her breath left her lungs in a rush. “Everything. Money. Experience. Life. I don’t want to get singed, let alone burned. You come with far too high a price tag.”

His eyes were locked on hers, and she couldn’t break away, held captive in spite of her resolve. It was the fleeting glimpse of the hurt animal, the shadows of pain and betrayal he hid behind his cool, icy demeanor that kept her from walking off the dance floor. She slipped her arms around his neck and allowed her body to sink into the heat of his.

His chin rubbed the top of her head. “All this time I was thinking you were the one with the high price tag.”

“You probably think all women come with price tags,” she muttered against his chest. She turned her head to lay her ear over his heart.

“Don’t they?” he asked. “Usually it isn’t all that difficult, but you, lady, present a problem.”

Maia listened to the steady rhythm of his heart. “I refuse to be a problem for you. You’re the one insisting on dancing with me. I told you no.”

“I didn’t hear you say no.”

“Really?” She smiled against his shirt. “I could have sworn the entire room heard me. I thought I was very emphatic about it.”

“No, you definitely didn’t say no.”

“Well, I should have. My guard must have been down.” She laughed softly, and the sound played right through his body.

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