Her Rancher Rescuer. Donna Alward

to date. Now be quiet, eh? I have a lot more fun when we’re not talking.”

      His eyes flashed at her. “Be careful, talking like that could get you into trouble.”

      “You promised to be honorable.”

      “I still have to drive you home. The night’s not over yet.”

      Again, the curl of excitement wound through her as he flirted. She was under no illusions. There was no future with Jack. He was not a romantic prospect or a ticket anywhere, nor did she want him to be. But he was fun and interesting and different and exciting, and at this moment those were fantastic attributes. It beat the hell out of chocolate fudge ice cream and a ten-year-old chick flick on cable.

      His arm tightened around her, pulling her closer against his length. He still wore his tuxedo jacket, unbuttoned, and her fingers pressed against the rich, thick material. She slipped her fingers beneath the lapel and felt the heat of his skin through the satiny material of his vest. “You have a lot of layers on,” she murmured, her lashes fluttering as the hand at her waist kneaded the top of her tailbone.

      She was deliberately tempting him. After they’d already set out the ground rules.

      “Say the word and they’re gone,” he answered, calling her bluff.

      She kept silent.

      “This is a killer dress,” he commented. “Little black dress sounds so simple. But it’s not simple on you.”

      “Is there a motive behind your compliments? Or are you just keeping up the charade?”

      “It’s the truth. You look beautiful tonight. The men of this town must all be blind if they can’t see it.”

      She shrugged. “I’ve lived here all my life. I’m not a novelty.”

      “They’re blind and stupid, then.”

      She smiled. “You’re doing a good job, anyway.”

      “A good job?”

      “Of turning the situation around and puffing up my ego. You were right. A dance was a better idea than running off with my tail between my legs.”

      “We only forgot one thing.”

      “We did?”

      “Well, yes. If you want everyone to believe you don’t give a damn about Rhys.”

      Curious, she tilted her head up to meet his gaze. Suddenly she couldn’t hear the music, couldn’t see the other partygoers around them. She was oblivious to everything but Jack. The way he looked, all suave and debonair with his dark hair and bedroom eyes and broad shoulders. But more than that was the way he was looking at her. Like she was the only woman in the world. No one had ever, ever looked at her that way.

      It seemed the most obvious thing for a kiss to be the next step. They slid into it naturally, like they’d done it a thousand times before. Her head tilted slightly to the left, there was a first meeting of lips, then they opened a little wider as they tasted and explored. It felt strangely familiar and yet somehow brand-new. They kept it light, kept their hands where they belonged, especially considering they were in public. But it was a hell of a kiss all the same—the kind of kiss that made her toes curl in her platform pumps and goose bumps shiver over her skin. And when it was over her breath was coming a little bit faster than before. Wow.

      “If there were ever any doubt...” he said, putting the final bow on the top by touching his lips to her temple in a tender and intimate gesture.

      But his words made Amy go suddenly cold, like she was splashed with icy water. This wasn’t real. It was an act, a performance. A charity service. It was all about perception. Showing the town that she didn’t give a damn about Rhys Bullock and his insults.

      “What’s wrong?”

      “Nothing.”

      But Jack was smart. Especially for a guy. He squeezed her hand to get her attention. “You think because we let them see what we wanted them to see that it wasn’t real.”

      “What a charming way you have with words,” she replied drily, her gaze sliding away.

      “You think it was an act.”

      “Wasn’t it? A lovely stage for me to save face for a few minutes. What’s in it for you, Jack? Something to keep you from being bored?”

      His jaw tightened. Had she struck a nerve?

      “Would that be so bad?”

      She hated that the immediate answer that came back to her was no. The problem was there was no excitement in Cadence Creek. No adventure or challenge. It was always the same, day in and day out. She longed to get out, but every time she thought of escaping she thought of leaving her mother alone and couldn’t quite do it. As much as she got frustrated with her mom, she worried about her. Amy was sure Mary was depressed. And she hardly ever went out.... How could Amy possibly leave her to fend for herself?

      “Well, it’s humiliation of a different sort.”

      “News flash,” he said in a low voice. “Being with you is a great distraction. There are far worse things than holding a beautiful woman in your arms.”

      “That might be nice if I thought you meant it.”

      A wrinkle formed between his eyebrows as he frowned. “Amy, we danced twice tonight already. It was fun. There was eye contact and we flirted. Did it occur to you that maybe I didn’t like the thought of someone like you being in that bathroom crying over some guy who’s not worth it?”

      “No.”

      “No what?”

      “No, it didn’t occur to me.”

      “Why?”

      “Because in my experience most guys don’t give a good damn about my feelings.”

      “Then you’ve been hanging around the wrong men.”

      “No,” she corrected, suddenly feeling like telling the absolute truth. “It’s me. I’m messed up and guys try to stay away from that kind of crazy.”

      She was surprised when he burst out laughing. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

      He looked down at her warmly. With—she would swear—affection. “Amy, I used to hurl myself down the side of a mountain at over eighty miles an hour. I like crazy. Besides, I don’t think you’re crazy at all. Misunderstood, maybe. But not crazy.”

      That he could be so astute momentarily silenced her. The music faded and he moved his hand at her back, letting her go but still holding tightly to her right hand. “Are you ready to go now, or would you like to stay a little longer?”

      She looked around. A few faces were staring in their direction, but not all. Some were at the bar, some were in groups talking, others were taking to the dance floor. The truth was she was tired of them all. All the familiar faces, all people who knew—or thought they knew—far too much about her. She couldn’t wait to get out of here. “I’m ready. My coat’s at the check.”

      “You get it and I’ll join you in a moment. I’m just going to say goodbye to Callum and Avery.”

      Of course. The bride and groom. His brother and new sister-in-law. Ignoring anyone who might want to speak to her, she made straight for the coat check. She was just tying the belt of her coat when Jack came up beside her, holding a bottle of champagne in his hand. “What are you...?”

      He got his coat, tipped the coat-check girl and put a hand on her elbow. “I got the impression you liked the champagne.”

      She couldn’t lie. “I did.”

      “And that you might just happen to like me a little bit.”

      “You’re not exactly a troll.”

      He chuckled and opened the door to the