A Cowboy's Temptation. Barbara Dunlop

flaws?” she asked before she could catch herself.

      Why would she care if Seth thought she had flaws?

      “You’re caught, Darby. Own up to it.”

      “We may have miscounted,” she admitted. “But that’s hardly a crime.”

      “Punishable by a ten-thousand-dollar fine and up to three months in jail.”

      It took her a second to realize he was mocking her.

      “Ha, ha.”

      He shrugged. “That’s what it ought to be.”

      “You actually think I deserve jail?”

      “It would keep you out of my hair.”

      “You just can’t stand the fact that I’m right.”

      “You’re not right.”

      She went for broke. “Then why does the idea of a petition scare you so much?”

      “Do I look remotely frightened?”

      She leaned her shoulder against the doorjamb. “If you weren’t afraid of what I could do, you’d have sent somebody else up here to complain about the signature count.”

      “Wild speculation on your part.” He braced his hand against the wall, close to her shoulder.

      “Why are you here?”

      “I don’t need to send a minion to deal with you.”

      She wondered again about the plan to flirt with him. Was it crazy? Would it work? Would it put him off his game?

      She seemed to be out of other options, so she tossed her hair back and let her gaze go soft. “Exactly how are you planning to deal with me, Seth?”

      He blinked.

      She added a coquettish smile for good measure.

      He inched ever so slightly closer. “You really think that’s going to work?”

      “Do I think what’s going to work?”

      He leaned closer still. “You can’t flirt your way out of the missing signatures. And what happened to you not flirting back?”

      “Who’s flirting back?”

      He reached forward, resting his palm on her hip, his intense blue gaze trapping hers. “You’re flirting.”

      “In your dreams, cowboy.”

      “Perhaps. But right now in real life, too.”

      The timbre of his voice made her chest tighten. Her pulse sped up, and a warm flush made her skin tingle.

      His tone dropped to a lower rumble. “How far you going to take this?”

      Excellent question.

      While she struggled to come up with a reasonable answer, he eased forward. She told herself to back off, but for some reason, she didn’t move. She told herself this was a terrible idea, but still, she didn’t move.

      He whispered her name in obvious frustration, and then his hot lips came down on hers.

      The searing power of his kiss zipped through her nervous system, bringing her entire body to instantaneous life. He wrapped his arm around her, pressing it against her back. The doorjamb dug into her shoulder but she barely felt it. Endorphins and who knew what else had formed a hormone-fueled cocktail that took over her senses. All she felt was Seth.

      He didn’t let up. His lips urged hers open, while his tongue teased, and hers answered in kind. Her nipples tightened, and heat flooded her body, making her pliant and malleable.

      When his hands moved to her bottom, urging her against his hard body, she came to him willingly. Her arms snaked their way around his neck, and she tilted her head while he deepened their kiss. His fingers then splayed into her hair, and the friction from his hard chest made her nipples tingle with desire.

      Color and light swirled through her brain. The world tipped beneath her, and her equilibrium was lost. If not for Seth’s enveloping hug, she might have tumbled to the porch.

      Her one small scrap of sanity was no match for the avalanche of passion flooding her body. She had a sudden urge to tear off their clothes and make love right there on the front porch.

      He drew back, dragging in breaths, looking as dazed as she felt. “Another minute, and I’ll be swearing it’s six hundred names.”

      Another minute and Darby would be sporting a train engineer’s hat.

      He dropped his hands and stepped back. “This could get me into a lot of trouble at the office.”

      “I’m sorry—” She stopped, not sure exactly what she was sorry about.

      He laughed. “For being a great flirt? I’ve got to hand it to you, Darby. I didn’t think you’d go through with a kiss.”

      Still feeling slightly unsteady on her feet, she forced out a casual laugh. There was no way she’d let him know how he’d affected her. “I figured it was worth a shot.”

      His expression turned serious. “Take another shot, any old time you’d like.”

      “We’re getting more signatures,” she told him, ignoring the urge to kiss him again right here and now. “Marta’s out there signing more people up.”

      “You can’t do that. The deadline’s passed.”

      “There’s nothing in the policy that says all six hundred have to be present at the deadline.”

      “That’s the whole point.”

      “Maybe,” she allowed. “Maybe not. But if you don’t approve the referendum, I’ll have to meet you in court so we can let a judge decide.”

      “Fightin’ words, Ms. Carroll.”

      “You have paint on your jacket, Mr. Mayor.”

      He followed her gaze to the finger-shaped smears of peach where she’d gripped his sleeves. He blew out a heavy sigh.

      “You’re a regular walking disaster.”

      She stifled a smile. “I’ll pay for the dry-cleaning.”

      He shrugged. “Sadly, the jacket barely registers on my radar today. There’s also a problem with your property survey on file at the Lands Office.”

      The sudden change in topic took her by surprise.

      “What problem?” She scrambled to figure out his new angle.

      “Mountain Railway’s lawyers did some research—”

      “Oh, no, you don’t,” she interrupted. “You are not going to mess around with my land—”

      “I’m not messing around—”

      “I don’t care who you are, Seth Jacobs.” She closed the space between them, tapping her index finger against his chest. “I will not be—”

      “You own more land than you thought,” Seth all but shouted over her, grasping her paint-smeared hand and dragging it away from him.

      “Huh?”

      “The mistake is bad for me. I’m not here to cheat. Not that you don’t deserve someone who plays dirty.”

      While he spoke, Seth suspiciously checked his shirtfront. “There was a mistake made in the survey record back in 1893. It turns out your land goes across the rail right-of-way. That being the case, we’ll be asking you for an easement.” He stopped talking.

      The breeze gusted up from the lake, while songbirds darted from tree to tree.

      “Are you saying I own more land?” She struggled to wrap her head around the news.

      “Yes.