Charlene Sands by Taming the Texan

Author:Taming the Texan [Texan, Taming the]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Tess rode Sunshine at a quickened pace, tears she couldn’t shed in front of Clint now raining down her cheeks. Once she was far enough away from the creek, she slowed the mare, remembering she was a new mama and could tire easily.

She’d made a truce with Clint today, for the ranch’s sake, and she felt it’d been the only decision she could make. Though her lips still tasted of him, her body still hummed from his touch, she knew she’d made a bad decision allowing him those liberties.

Clint wasn’t to be trusted. Not with her heart.

As much as she wanted to keep him at arm’s length to protect all that she’d struggled for these past months, he’d managed to slip in beyond her defenses.

She felt something for him.

She cared.

He’d been gentle with her, his touch striking a chord within her, igniting her passion and creating thrilling havoc in her body. His kisses were heated, his lips commanding and guiding and encouraging, but Clint never overwhelmed her by taking away her control. He knew that she needed to have that freedom. He understood. He’d always given her a choice.

Touching him had been glorious. He was broad of chest and well muscled, defining the infinite days of hard work in a rancher’s life. Under her fingertips she’d felt his strength and itched to feel more of him—to touch him intimately.

When she looked at him, the dark gleam of desire in his eyes almost melted away every chunk of her resolve.

He was a beautiful man.

With a heart of stone, she reminded herself.

Clint wasn’t to be trusted. That’s what perplexed her most. He was out to destroy something precious, and if she got in his way, no doubt she’d be discarded as quickly as a heap of rotting rubbish.

Tess had only known men who’d used and abused people. In some ways, Clint wasn’t too different from Frank and Rusty Metcalf. He took what he wanted, no matter the cost to others, without conscience or regret.

Except for Hoyt, she’d never had a decent, caring relationship with a man. Certainly only a foolish woman would entertain thoughts of loving strong, determined, hard-hearted Clint Hayworth.

So, as tender as Clint might have been, as much as she’d wanted him, she’d made the correct decision in stopping Clint’s advances. She’d learned to trust her instincts and place value on herself. But leaving Clint behind at the creek hadn’t been easy.

He thought her a tease and a wanton woman.

He was wrong on both accounts.

She’d wanted to have something real and something solid with a man who would love her. But long ago she had given up that dream.

The Double H was her something solid now. She’d do her utmost to keep it safe and to keep the Hayworth name held in high regard.

Drying her tears and sitting taller in the saddle, she came to a startling revelation: this time she wasn’t protecting the ranch for Hoyt but for herself.

She was a Hayworth now, through and through.

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