From Texas, With Love. Cathy Thacker Gillen

WOULD HAVE thought Will McCabe was joking, had it not been for the way too innocent, I’m-just-giving-you-what-you-asked-for expression on his face.

      I can handle this. It’s just for one night. Then I’ll have met any last-ditch familial obligation. I can go back to New York City and get on with my life. Determined not to let Will McCabe’s shenanigans get to her, Samantha turned and headed up the stairs. He followed lazily behind, and his shoulder brushed hers when he unlocked the door and swung it open.

      Samantha stared at the sparse decor.

      “Not too late to change your mind,” Will told her. “I bet Howard is only a mile or so down the road by now. You can call him on his cell, ask him to double back and get you.”

      Which was clearly what the two men had planned all along, Samantha thought. No wonder they had sent each other those indecipherable looks! They had to have known how shocked and dismayed she would be.

      “This is fine,” she fibbed. So what if it was one large room with a cement floor and walls? Technically, it had everything she needed. A hot plate, small fridge, microwave. Television with satellite receiver. Stereo. Adjoining bath, with shower stall. She pivoted back to Will and tossed him a devil-may-care smile. “Just one question. Where are you going to sleep?”

      Will locked eyes with her. He hooked his thumbs through the belt loops on either side of his fly. “Here.”

      Right.

      “I hate to break it to you,” Samantha replied dryly, “but that’s a metal army cot.”

      He turned to look, as if he had never seen it before. “Uh-huh.”

      Aware that he was being deliberately dense just to get under her skin, she elaborated, “For one.”

      A sexy grin spread across his face. “Then I guess we’ll be real cozy, huh?”

      Samantha gave him a look that let him know they would not be hooking up, tonight or at any other time. “Surely you can sleep on the plane,” she said.

      His expression gave away nothing. “Surely you can sleep at your brother’s place.”

      Beginning to lose patience despite herself, Samantha jabbed a thumb at her chest. “Then I’ll sleep on the jet.”

      He vetoed her idea. “It’s either here—in that bed—with me,” he told her flatly, “or at Howard’s.”

      It seemed Samantha had been searching her whole life for a man every bit as stubborn and strong-willed as she was. Finally, she’d found one. The only trouble was they had very different ideas about what should happen next.

      She edged closer. “Even a car or pickup would do.” She’d learned to get comfortable anywhere and appreciate the roof over her head.

      “You’re not sleeping in a vehicle, either.”

      Samantha’s heartbeat quickened. “Says who?”

      “Me,” he replied with exaggerated seriousness.

      “You can’t tell me what to do,” Samantha declared, ignoring the tingling sensation that started up inside her whenever he was near.

      “I don’t have to provide you with the keys to my pickup truck, either.” He regarded her smugly. “So it looks like you’re back to plan A. Bunking with your brother.”

      Samantha flushed. “Absolutely not!”

      He looked at his watch. “Five seconds to change your mind.”

      She glowered at him.

      With a shrug, Will said, “All right, then.” He strolled over to the row of metal clothes lockers against the wall. Opening one, he pulled out boxers and a T-shirt fresh from the laundry. “I’m going to bed.”

      Samantha’s jaw dropped. She knew Will was a no-rules kind of guy, but this was beyond ridiculous! “You can’t be serious.”

      “Afraid I am.” He gave her a thorough once-over that had her insides fluttering.

      Refusing to let him get to her, she merely lifted a brow in return.

      The tension between them ratcheted up another notch.

      She knew he was thinking about the sexual implications of the hours ahead, as was she.

      “You’re not getting lucky.”

      “I figured,” he replied.

      “So maybe you’d better bunk elsewhere.”

      “Don’t think so. I like my quarters and my bed just fine.”

      Another stalemate.

      She was definitely losing this battle.

      Will made a great show of yawning. “If you want to brush your teeth or change into something more comfortable, better do it. Then it’s going to be lights out.”

      Samantha knew he still expected her to give in and run to her brother. No way that was happening. He thought he could be difficult? So could she.

      “First dibs on the bathroom,” she countered.

      With amusement tugging at his lips, he lounged against the wall. “Have at it.”

      All too aware of his gaze tracking her every step, Samantha rolled her carry-on suitcase into the bathroom. Ignoring the slight trembling of her fingers, she locked the door behind her and changed into the lavender sleep shirt she had been wearing when Will had kicked in her door. Then she washed her face and brushed her teeth in record time.

      Truth to tell, she was exhausted. She didn’t care where she slept as long as she had a place to rest her head. And she was still hoping Will McCabe’s gentlemanly instincts would kick in—surely the aggravating man had some!—and he would go elsewhere to sleep.

      Finished, she crammed everything back in her suitcase, sauntered out and looked at Will—then felt her mouth go dry.

      He had stripped down to his jeans. Raw power radiated from his tall, extraordinarily fit frame.

      So much for the hope he’d make a chivalrous exit, Samantha thought.

      He really intended to spend the night with her on that tiny bed! Unless…he was calling her bluff?

      Pretending she wasn’t turned on at the sight of all that hard muscle and abundant masculinity, Samantha inclined her head in the direction of the bath. “It’s all yours.”

      He ambled past, T-shirt and shorts still clutched in one hand. The door shut and the shower went on.

      Not sure whether to be grateful for the respite or worried about what would happen if he really decided to sleep in the single bed next to her, Samantha sighed and climbed beneath the covers—a starched white sheet and green wool blanket. She put her head down, just for a second, and closed her eyes.

      The next thing she knew the bathroom door opened and a wedge of light spilled into the room. Will strode out, clad in his boxers and T-shirt, then switched off the light. She caught a whiff of man and soap as he slid in beside her, rolled onto his back and locked his hands behind his head. Wedged between the wall and his body, Samantha had nowhere to go. Worse, she was lying on her side, facing him. A position that was far too…intimate.

      She turned, bumping her knee against his rock-hard thigh and her elbow against his chest. Her sleep shirt rode up. She tugged it down, then tried easing onto her back so she, too, would be staring up at the ceiling. His shoulders were so wide the two of them didn’t quite fit. She took a deep breath. “Could you turn on your side?”

      “Sure.” He rolled to face her.

      Heavens, he was a handful. “I meant the other way.”

      His broad chest rumbled with suppressed laughter. “I know what you meant.”

      Samantha set her jaw. And tried not to think about kissing