Convincing the Rancher. Claire McEwen

were pulsing neon in her brain, emanating fear and desire that sent a shiver up her spine. He made her crazy, angry and frustrated. He was her enemy in what was going to be a very tough fight. But in those few moments since she’d arrived when they hadn’t been arguing, when they’d shared a spark of humor or a smile, she hadn’t wanted to be gone, either. And those moments troubled her.

      She wandered over to the flowers Slaid had brought—white roses, some pink carnations and a whole bunch of baby’s breath. A standard supermarket offering. She trailed her fingers over the soft rose petals anyway. No guy had ever brought her flowers before. Probably because she rarely told them her name or where she lived. And because women like her, who were so clearly out for just a one-night stand, didn’t inspire the traditional thank-you bouquet after a night of sex, no matter how good.

      It was kind of sweet that he’d brought them. Totally inappropriate, of course, but sweet. And yet she’d been hard on him—she’d had to be. Seeing him at her door, totally gorgeous and all hopeful, flowers in one hand, his leather cowboy hat in the other, had just about taken her legs out from under her. And there was no way she could let that happen. She needed them strong and steady and completely reliable if she hoped to win this fight.