Cowboy Lynx Maddox has a dangerous reputation for tempting fate. And he wants only two things: to win the Silver Buckle and Rachel Scott.
Rachel wants nothing to do with the rodeo world. But her attraction to Lynx is too powerful to deny...and his unexpected gentleness too seductive to resist...
Orange Rose Finalist!
HOLT Medallion Finalist!
Book I of the Western Men are Made for Lovin' Series by Connie Vines
Chapter One
CHARLENE HADN'T TOLD Rachel that she'd fixed her up with a cowboy, much less Lynx Maddox, the "Wild Cat" of the rodeo circuit.
Rachel sighed. She should have known. After all, Charlene only dated men who wore boots and Stetsons.
Rachel cringed at the very thought, even as her gaze took in the breadth of Lynx Maddox's chest, his muscular shoulders, and dark green eyes that scanned her with masculine approval.
Despite her stern efforts to control it, her heart pounded against her rib cage.
She'd seen him sitting at the table with Charlene and her date, Dan, before Lynx had spotted her. She'd looked when he'd walked her way--looking didn't hurt and it was okay to dream--a little fantasy never harmed a woman. But that was it; that was where it ended. She'd promised herself a long time ago she'd stay detached.
After watching her father die in the arena, Rachel had sworn she'd never have anything to do with another rodeo cowboy.
She stopped the train of her thoughts and managed to give the cowboy a smile.
"Nice to meet you," she said, accepting his extended hand. She felt the strength in his warm, callused fingers. Rachel tried to ignore a fluttering sensation low in her stomach. There was one thing she was certain of as she looked up at his piercing eyes and uncompromising jaw--men like this one had trouble written all over them. And she doubted Lynx Maddox would prove to be an exception.
"Rachel, I'm glad you came tonight." His voice was soft as velvet and laced with a Texas drawl.
He smelled of woodsy, masculine cologne, and the sudden rise in her body temperature clued Rachel in to an unexpected twist to this encounter. She was much too aware of this sexy cowboy. So aware, in fact, she had difficulty remembering her own name!
She focused on the warmth of his palm against hers and knew that, although his grip was light, he was very strong. But his strength wasn't affecting her nearly as much as the power of his presence. It vibrated everywhere, even from the sawdust-covered floor beneath her feet. His slow, lingering smile seemed to unravel what remained of her composure. For several seconds she seemed incapable of speech or movement.
Good Lord, she was having heart palpitations!
Her reaction was so out of character Rachel was at a loss as to what to do.
"I hope you didn't mind meetin' us here," he said easily, oblivious to her inner turmoil.
The question seemed to release her tongue from its paralysis. "No. Not at all," she replied, feeling somewhat less nervous.
"I'll see you home, of course," Lynx said, ushering her farther into the room.
I don't think so, she thought, eyeing the tall stranger. Meeting Lynx here at the honky-tonk was one thing. Going home with him was entirely another. She didn't voice her decision, but she knew Charlene would be horrified if she dared to offend him. So, exercising her limited diplomatic skills, Rachel sidestepped the issue.
"Is it always this crowded in here? And so loud?" she asked, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. The drummer seemed to have placed himself inside her head, his sticks pounding against her skull, and the raucous noise of the patrons made it almost impossible to hear herself think. The packed crowd made it difficult to breath.
"Friday nights are always busy. Haven't you been here before?" he asked.
"No." She realized her comment was a bit sharp, but she couldn't help that. Honky-tonk bars were fine for other people, but not for her. If it hadn't been for her fast-talking best friend, Charlene Davis, she wouldn't be there--wouldn't be feeling so out of place and strangely vulnerable.
"What happened?" he asked, looking down at her. "Lose a bet?"
"Sort of," she mumbled so low he couldn't hear her. Forcing a smile, Rachel said, "I guess everyone should experience this once." More than her hearing was under assault. Somewhere low in her body, a riotous group of sensuous messages beat in rhythm to the band, the lyrics communicating thoughts about Lynx Maddox she shouldn't even be thinking.
Lynx arched one dark, sardonic eyebrow. "This place will grow on you. Trust me."
Rachel stopped and looked up at him warily. She knew better than to trust him, or anybody. At twenty-four, she'd been on her own for years. After a moment, she regained her composure. "Dan and Charlene have a table for us across the room, don't they?"
She peered through the smoke that diffused the colored lights revolving overhead, and swallowed as the bitter haze of cigarette smoke coated the back of her throat. A cloud hovered near the ceiling, giving the mirrored wall behind the bar a bluish look. The air was stale and smelled of barley malt, tobacco, and hay. Rachel blinked, her eyes burning.
Lynx grinned. "Well, they did. It's kinda difficult to tell right now, though."
Rachel couldn't help but agree. And it was even harder to check for Charlene with his impressive chest blocking her view. When he shifted, she couldn't tell how many people were standing beyond him. "How on earth are we going to get through that mob?" she asked.
"We don't have to," he said, easily.
"What do you mean" Rachel asked, puzzled.
"We have another choice. We can sneak out the back door to some quiet, secluded spot where we could, ah, get better acquainted."
A hot flush of denial raced to her cheeks, and Rachel knew she was about to tell a lie. "Thanks, but I think running the gauntlet is a better idea right now. I'm sure Charlene wants me to meet her date."
Not the least bit offended, Lynx winked at her.
"Okay, sweetheart. Stick with me, and I'll show you how a man makes a path."
Lynx placed his hand under her forearm to guide her toward the table. Rachel felt heat rise along the length of her spine, and a fine sweat formed at the small of her back.
Darn Charlene and her matchmaking.
Ever since Rachel's break-up with Steven two years ago, Charlene had hovered over her like a mother hen. Finally, after months of badgering, Rachel had given in and agreed to show up at the honky-tonk this night. Now, with Lynx so close she could almost feel him breathe, Rachel wondered about the wisdom of her actions.
No man was worth the risk of losing her peace of mind. In her life, what men had offered her had turned out to be mirages. Rachel knew all about mirages, and she made sure she steered clear of them.
As they made their way toward the center of the dance floor, someone bumped her from the side. The man was wearing high-heeled, western boots designed for something far less physical than evasive maneuvers. Rachel felt herself thrown off balance, and automatically reached for Lynx's arm.
Assessing the situation, Lynx held her hand. His brows drew together in displeasure as he shot a warning glance past her, toward the offender.
"Justin," he growled. "Watch your step, cowboy."
Though unsteady on his feet, the man he'd called Justin still managed to back off in a hurry.
"Careful," he addressed her. His voice, though gruff, held a soothing tone.
Grateful for it, and for the fact he seemed willing to ignore her embarrassment, Rachel breathed a soft sigh of relief.
It was the next comment that had her emotions zinging.
"A woman can't be too careful in a place like this."
Rachel shook her head and chuckled to herself. Those were her thoughts exactly.
She tried to convince herself that the rush she felt on making eye contact with Lynx had to do with the close proximity, not the dark-haired man's expression.
A muscle in Lynx's lean cheek jumped in response to her appraisal, and exasperation lurked in the depths of his eyes, the greenest she'd ever seen. It was at that moment Rachel realized she was in trouble. A warning bell clamored in her brain like the eight-second buzzer in a calf-roping contest, but still Rachel chose to ignore it.
Lynx wrapped his arm around her shoulder, glancing at the crowd, "Don't worry, Rachel--you'll get the knack of it," he said, pulling her to his side. "Relax and let me do all the work."
Somehow, she managed to tear her gaze away from his, to put one wobbly foot in front of the other.
Forcing herself not to stiffen at his nearness, Rachel adjusted to the rock-hardness of his body. She knew that professional bull riders were strong--built heavy in the chest and shoulders--but Lynx was a mountain of a man, topping six feet by two or three inches.
"Come on," he said, swinging her into his arms. "Looks like there's only one way to get to the table."
Rachel gave a gasp of surprise at the sudden turn of events. Finding herself pulled against him, she refused to crane her neck to look up, so she stared at the middle of his chest. She swallowed. Maybe it was the shock of being held in his arms, or the topsy-turvy, surreal feel to the evening, but her insides wouldn't stop quaking, and the way his hand kept stroking her side didn't help.
To make matters worse, strands of her hair were tumbling loose from her French twist. With those loose wisps flowing down to her breasts, she knew she resembled a wide-eyed flower child far more than the capable, independent woman she was.
The way Lynx looked at her only confirmed her suspicions.
Lynx tucked her head against his chest. "I won't bite. You can relax a little."
Fat chance, she thought as she followed his graceful steps around the dance floor. Lynx was very good at taking control. He was brisk without being rude, and it was obvious he didn't know her and how much that attitude put her off. Not that I'm being unreasonable or difficult, Rachel assured herself. I simply have my principles--that's all.
As they neared the table, Charlene stood up and waved.
Lynx grinned and guided Rachel into a complicated two-step that left her gasping for breath.
Charlene let out a whoop of delight when they reached the table. "You two sure dance well together," she said, glancing at them with a speculative gleam in her eye as she reached for her date's arm. "Rachel, honey, I want you to meet Dan Elder."
"Hello, Dan," Rachel replied, and smiled at the lanky, red-haired man, trying not to act uncomfortable with Charlene's look. Stepping away from Lynx, she returned the offered handshake. "Charlene's been looking forward to this evening for weeks. It's good to finally meet you."
"I'm sure glad you decided to join us, Rachel. Otherwise I'd still be waitin' for Charlene to get ready."
Charlene gave Dan a playful jab to the ribs with her elbow, and he grinned when she said, "I didn't hear you complaining. As I recall, you were too busy pawing through my refrigerator--"
"Can I help it if you make the best meat loaf this side of the Mississippi?"
Charlene gave a snort of disbelief. "You're from Texas! What do you know about the Mississippi?"
Lynx chuckled. "She's got you there, cousin."
"I reckon so." Dan had to agree.
Lynx pulled out a chair and Rachel gave him a polite smile as he seated her.
Quarters were crowded, the chairs wedged closely together. Rachel tried not to notice the heat of Lynx's muscular thigh pressed against hers. Why hadn't she maneuvered closer to Charlene? This was crazy. She shouldn't be feeling this way, thinking these thoughts.
She didn't mean to touch his arm when she reached for a napkin, or bump his thigh with her leg, did she?
Immediately, Lynx put down his drink. His gaze began to roam over her face, and Rachel caught her breath.
It was as if they were tangled in some web of emotion that was unbreakable. Suddenly, everything before her seemed to shift into slow motion.
A smile is out of the question, she thought, as she stared at his lips. She knew that if he lowered his head and touched his lips to hers, it would trigger such heat it would ignite like a Fourth of July firecracker between them.
"What would you like to drink?" he asked, his voice low as his gaze held her captive.
Somehow she managed a wry smile and a weak shrug at his question.
Resisting a sudden urge to fan herself as her body temperature rose by sensual degrees, Rachel grappled with what seemed to be a mind-bending decision.
Fortunately, a portly waiter chose that moment to pop up beside Rachel's shoulder. "What'll it be, folks?"
"Bourbon and water," Charlene replied, her long rhinestone earrings dancing as she shifted to bring her chair closer to the table."
"And you, miss?"
At his prompting, Rachel gave a quick look at the posted menu and said, "I'll have a Dr. Pepper with lots of ice." She had to do something about the searing heat of the room.
"Honey, what're you doing?" Charlene hissed.
"I'm ordering a drink," she replied.
Rachel's gaze darted back to Lynx and watched a look of grim humor cross his features. "Sam, refill the beers," he told the waiter.
Dan frowned. Reaching for his beer, he turned his attention to Charlene.
Lynx leaned toward Rachel. "First dates are hell, aren't they?" he asked, before taking a long swallow of his beer.
"Oh, yes," she said. The words overflowed with a wealth of feeling. "I hope never to go through this again!" Pinning a strand of her hair back in place, she was suddenly aware of how rude she sounded. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean--"
Lynx looked at her mortified expression and laughed. "It's okay, Rachel. I find your honesty refreshin'. If you like, we can pretend this is our second date. That way we'll be more relaxed," he told her.
"I suppose we could." She paused, considering the idea. "I'm not an authority, though," she responded, ignoring the fluttering sensations his comment caused. She didn't dare entertain the thought of seeing him again, did she? Not that he intended to ask, she reminded herself. "This is my first blind date."
"Ah, I sort of guess that."
"Really? How could you tell?" she asked, disconcerted, wondering what else he'd figured out.
"The high-heeled boots, meetin' me here, and your purse."
"My purse?"
Lynx pushed his Stetson farther back on his head. A strand of rich, dark, auburn hair teased at he forehead. He lowered his voice to a deep, rumbling whisper. "Yep, your purse. You hold it in a death grip. I noticed that right away. Maddox, I said to myself, now here's a woman carryin' a heap of mad money."
Rachel glanced down at her purse cradled in her lap and grinned. "You're right on all counts."
Lynx leaned back in his chair. "Now that we've got that out of the way, let's get to the basics, okay?"
Dropping her handbag to the floor beneath her chair, Rachel smiled. "Okay. So tell me, how long will you and Dan be staying in Montana?"
"A couple of weeks. Then we'll head back to Cheyenne for a few days."
"Traveling the rodeo circuit keeps you on the road a great deal of the time, doesn't it?" Rachel asked, remembering the endless cross-country drives her family had made when she was a child.
Lynx nodded. "We put in the miles all right," he replied, leaning closer. "I've always liked this part of Montana."
He's a cowboy on the move, she reminded herself, which meant there was nothing left to say. He'll be leaving soon, Rachel reminded herself. She wouldn't get hurt--all she had to do was shut the door to her emotions. A lighthearted evening would be fun.
"Then I'll be back," he said.
"You'll be back?" she parroted. "Why?"
Lynx laughed at her question. "It's a good thing I'm not easily offended."
"Well, I didn't expect you to be planning a return visit, that's all," Rachel said, face flaming.
"So I gathered from your reaction. Dan's put a down payment on a small ranch. Didn't Charlene tell you?"
"Well, yes. But I was under the impression you were going back to Texas after the season ended."
"I will eventually. When I have some free time, I'll be helping Dan with his barn raising and other repairs."
"I see," Rachel said, not knowing what to say, or what to think. All she knew was that the bottom dropped from her stomach as he inched closer to catch her words. The noise level was horrendous in the room, but Lynx was painfully near, causing her to block out her surroundings. Her throat went dry and she couldn't stop staring at his mouth. She had to get hold of herself. She'd just met the man.
All she could think about was the way his voice teased at her, reminding her of the life she'd walked away from two years ago. Memories of an intimacy she never again wanted to experience filled her mind.
Being on a date with Lynx should have made the memories more painful, but for some reason it wasn't so.
Although she knew it was crazy and totally unlike her, she didn't want to leave the honky-tonk and go home. She wanted to be with Lynx. Even though it meant stepping back into forbidden territory and risking her carefully restored confidence, Rachel chose to remain where she was.
However, with her decision came the knowledge of her extreme vulnerability.
Fortunately, the waiter chose that moment to bring their drinks. Rachel lowered her gaze and struggled to make small talk. After a moment, she said, "I've never been to Cheyenne or Frontier Days. What's it like?"
Lynx toyed with a long strand of her black hair and brushed it away from her face. "Cheyenne, Wyoming is a rodeo town, and Frontier Days is a three-day celebration. It's a huge tourist attraction, and the town goes all-out for it. The locals say Cheyenne only has two seasons--winter and Frontier Days."
Dan and Charlene turned their attention back to the couple.
"Don't be talking about going just yet," Charlene said, clutching Dan's hand. "You fellas just got home yesterday."
"Now, Charlene," Dan warned. "You know how much purse money's at stake here."
"I know..."
Rachel melted back against the back of her chair as Lynx's fingertip brushed a strand of hair from her face. Her body shivered all the way to her toes. Fidgeting with a silver bracelet on her wrist, Rachel didn't know how to deal with this type of covert seduction.
"You'll have a good time then," she said, addressing her comment to both men.
"Everyone has a good time," Lynx clarified.
Dan chuckled. "Everyone who's able anyway."
Rachel reached for her glass, glancing at Dan. "I don't understand."
Dan pushed his hat further back on his head, revealing his bright crop of red hair. "I landed in front of the angry end of a bull last year and broke my arm. Lynx had a hell of a good time, though."
Rachel saw Lynx shoot a warning glance at Dan.
"Except for the hangover the next mornin'," Dan mumbled.
Rachel smothered a smile when she saw the expression on Lynx's face, which told her it wasn't a frequent indulgence on his part. He allowed Dan's comment to slip past, and Rachel glanced across the table at Dan. "Are you competing this year?" she asked him.
"Sure. I'm fine now," he said, lifting his wrist for her inspection.
Charlene ran her palm over Dan's wrist. "This year you're going to be more careful, aren't you?"
"I reckon so..."
The rest of the conversation was lost to Rachel because Lynx was tapping his square-tipped finger on the side of her glass. "It appears to me you've got enough ice in that glass to start your own Montana blizzard, Rachel."
"You think so? I happen to like ice. There's nothing quite like a cold drink on a warm night."
"I could think of a few things..."
Lynx studied her, and she could see the amusement lurking in his eyes. He was daring her to continue to ignore him, to deny the attraction between them.
She tried. She really tried to ignore him, to pretend they were simply friends and nothing more.
Rachel traced her fingertip along the mouth of the frosty glass and acted unconcerned when she felt the rough edge of his jeans brush against her ankle. She even tapped her foot in time with the easy tempo of the band when Lynx rested his arm along the back of her chair. She was a grown woman. She could get past physical attraction.
Couldn't she?
Lynx drummed his thumb against the tabletop to a classic tune. "Pretty good band, isn't it?"
"Pretty loud," she replied.
"Yeah. That's the best part."
Rachel smiled. Lynx wasn't at all what she'd expected--sexy, take-charge, Texas rodeo cowboy one moment, and charming, non-threatening date the next. She didn't know what to make of the situation, or of Lynx Maddox.
It's only his cologne, she reminded herself when Lynx leaned closer and pointed out the skill of the fiddle player. She'd always loved the scent of good cologne, warm and musky. Or maybe it was his reputation that held such appeal. He was a rodeo cowboy. Bull riders flirted with death and danger every day, and that alone could be a real turn-on for some women.
Still she knew none of those things was the real reason she was reacting this way.
His heart-stopping green eyes were her undoing. Weren't they? But what about his smile? she asked herself. Lord, he has a gorgeous smile.
"Rachel, don't you want your drink?" he asked.
"Ah, I'm waiting for some of the ice to melt," she said, glancing at the small iceberg in the center of the glass.
"Why don't you let me have this one?
I'll order you something warmer."
"Coffee would be good," she agreed.
"Rachel, are you doing okay?" Charlene asked, pulling away from the shelter of Dan's arm. "You're awfully quiet."
"Yes. Of course," she replied.
"Good. Then Dan and I are going to leave you two alone for a while. We're going to fight for some space on the dance floor."
"A while?" Dan snorted, staring at the dance floor. "We may be gone for a couple of days."
"Go on, enjoy yourselves," Rachel urged.
"We'll stay here and hold the table," Lynx said, tossing his Stetson on Charlene's vacated chair. His shoulder brushed against Rachel's, and she jerked at the sudden contact. Lynx didn't seem to notice her discomfort. He inched forward and plucked the cherry from her glass. Biting into the bright red cherry, he pulled the fruit from its stem.
Rachel's throat tightened in reaction. Without thought, her tongue moistened her lower lip. She'd just agreed to stay at the table, alone, with Lynx. Not a good idea.
She felt his leg brush against hers, and her toes curled inside of her boots. Her breath caught in her throat when she watched him take a swallow of her soda. The thick, corded muscles of his neck made the action seem almost vulnerable.
Yes, it was definitely a bad idea for them to be together like this.
"So tell me, Rachel," Lynx said, setting down the glass. "What made you and Charlene choose this particular honky-tonk?"
She glanced around the room and understood his curiosity. She wondered what she was doing there. Rachel was certain she looked as out of place as she felt. In an impish tone she said, "Why, the four-star service, of course."
Lynx grinned and glanced around the room. "Ah, yes. You must mean the small bowls of chips and salsa on the tables, and the baseball bat next to the bar. Nice touches."
"And the cocktail napkins. Don't forget those. See, Charlene and I each have one."
"Let me have a look...yours says, Joe's Place... The print's blurred, but I believe it says, San Antonio--"
"You're joking, aren't you?" Rachel asked, half convinced, as she reached for the napkin.
He chuckled. "Had you going for a moment, didn't I?"
"Well, yes, you, did," she replied, an easy smile curving her lips. "I was really disappointed when I read the napkin and found that it was only an ad for pizza delivery."
Before Lynx had a chance to respond, a breathless Charlene and a rumpled Dan returned to the table.
"It's too crowded to dance," Charlene gushed, sliding into her chair.
"Crowded? More like standing in the center of a stockyard in Abilene! I couldn't move for fear of being stampeded," Dan said, taking a swig of his beer.
Both Lynx and Rachel laughed, their gazes meeting as they joined in the shared joke.
She was having a good time, she realized. She hadn't expected to enjoy the evening or to feel so comfortable with Lynx and Dan, but she did.
The evening went along in that light-hearted tone for another hour. It wasn't until Lynx and Dan left the table in search of coffee that everything changed.
"Rachel, honey, why's that man staring at you?" Charlene asked, glanced to the right of her friend.
"You're imagining things."
"No, I'm not. He keeps watching you...Oh, no here he comes."
"Charlene, you're scaring me." Rachel twisted in her chair to get a look at the man. He was stocky and looked to be in his early thirties. He also looked vaguely familiar.
Before she could act, the man lunged against her, catching her off guard. He grabbed her wrist. "Wanna dance?"
She jerked her hand free. "No, I don't. I think it would be best if you went back to your table." She was concerned, but she wasn't frightened yet. She glared at him for several counts, her heart pounding. If she kept her head he'd leave her alone. If he didn't, she'd scream the roof down!
"I'll buy you another drink..."
"No!" Rachel shot back.
"Justin, leave the lady alone." Lynx's voice was a low growl right behind her.
"The lady asked me to buy her a drink," the drunk whined.
"I did not!"
"Rachel," Lynx ordered quietly, "I'll handle this."
She felt her spine snap to attention.
She'd never responded well to orders, no matter how well intended.
The drunk stumbled, landing on top of Rachel. She let out a squeal of surprise as glasses and mugs of beer careened off the table and onto the floor."
"Get off of me!" she screamed, shoving at his shoulders.
Before she could act, Lynx stepped forward, yanking the man off of Rachel. "Justin, didn't your mother ever teach you any manners?" Lynx asked.
Justin said something foul under his breath and Rachel saw Lynx's expression change.
In swift, economical movements, Lynx spun the man around and grabbed him by the collar. One hard blow from his fist catapulted the man backwards. He crashed into a table and several wooden chairs. The sound of splintering wood filled the room, and suddenly Rachel found herself the unwelcome center of attention.
"Charlene?" Rachel searched the room for her friend and found her gone. So what was she supposed to do now?
The question was quickly answered. Lynx made his way to Rachel's side seconds before several rowdies joined in the fracas in the center of the room.
"Damn," Lynx said, exasperated. He ducked the first punch. "Rachel, what in hell are you doing standing there? Get out of here!" His words were almost drowned out by the sound of breaking glass.
"Where?" she shouted.
Lynx pointed toward the back exit. "Move! This is a brawl, not a square dance!"
Rachel did a quick hop-step around several cowboys to get to a pillar near the wall. A barroom brawl? No, Lynx must be mistaken. She'd never seen a fistfight before. She couldn't be in the middle of a brawl. She watched a chair fly across the room and shatter a section of the wide mirror that hung behind the bar. Then she watched the bartender duck behind the counter as glass rained down. Lynx was right. This was a brawl!
Two more fights broke out on the dance floor. Rachel's stomach knotted and she felt sick as she watched the mounting bedlam. The cowboy Lynx had punched lunged to his feet and charged Lynx.
Lynx had a broad smile on his face as he glanced her way. He was enjoying himself! Rachel couldn't believe it.
Lynx grabbed the man by the collar and looked like he was prepared to bang the man's head against the wall.
Dan slugged a dark-haired cowboy and sent him sprawling under a table. Meanwhile, Charlene gamely picked her way over to Rachel's side and tugged her through the crowd toward the exit.
"Don't stand here gawking, honey."
Rachel made her way outside before she fully realized what had happened.
The ruckus was quickly turning into a riot before her eyes, and Lynx and Dan were trapped in the center of the room.
The volume of crashing and banging was escalating, but the hoops and hollers became less and less frequent. Maybe things were starting to calm down.
Rachel winced when she heard the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the wall. "Charlene, do you think anyone will get hurt?"
"Naw. This happens all the time. Things'll calm down as soon as--"
Suddenly a low growl, accompanied by several groans and curses, caught Rachel's attention.
Barney, the honky-tonk's bouncer, a Goliath in lumberjack clothing, hauled a man to the doorway and, with one mighty swing, hurled him outside. The man whizzed past Rachel. He hit the ground with a heavy thud. He groaned once but didn't move.
A flicker of realization penetrated Rachel's mind as she stared at the ground.
Lynx Maddox lay spread-eagle at her feet.
Wiping her damp palms against her skirt, Rachel bent down and tapped Lynx firmly on the shoulder.
"Lynx. Lynx Maddox."
HEARING THE FEMININE voice, he smiled. It looked like he'd won the fight after all. He cracked one eye open and fought to focus it. He stared at the wavering form next to him. Dark hair. Rachel. He grinned, pleased with the soft hesitation in her silvery voice.
Lynx struggled to raise himself onto his elbows and gave her a look of amusement. He knew his face was the picture of astonishment, and he felt his smile vanish. As the awareness of his surroundings faded and his elbows gave way beneath him, Lynx knew he was going to collapse.
In the distance he heard Rachel cry out in alarm.
His last conscious memory was of Charlene Davis hobbling toward him, one of her shoes in her hand, shouting, "Darn you, Barney! You threw out the wrong cowboy!"
Excerpt
Lynx ran his thumb over her knuckles slowly, savoring the silky texture of her skin. He noted the stark contrast of her small, fine-boned hand against his large, work-hardened one.
Lord, she was lovely. Every now and then he saw it, that streak of wildness in her. She tried to keep it out of view, but the fire in her couldn't be hidden. It blazed like the gold and red of a Texas sunset after a hard, summer rain. It intrigued him, and he could put it out of his mind.
He let go of her hand and took a step forward until she stopped him, holding her palms flat against his chest. He could feel the heat of her; feel his heart pounding against he trembling hands. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, and filled with desire and hesitation.
She wanted him to kiss her. He sensed it, yet he knew she was afraid.
Lynx drove his fingers into the thickness of her hair. "Rachel, you could make a man forget all his good intentions. If you don't stop me now, darlin', I'm going to kiss you."
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