The Virgin and Zach Coulter. Lois Dyer Faye
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once more in place. “I liked it.”
“So did I,” she said drily. “But it hardly compares with climbing Mount Everest.”
“Maybe, but it’s much warmer. And there aren’t as many obstacles along the way, which is always a plus,” he commented. “As hallmark experiences go, there’s a lot to be said for the Empire State Building’s observation deck.”
She shook her head, smiling. “If we’re comparing dangerous experiences, I’m betting climbing scary-high mountain wins.”
He chuckled, the sound reverberating and sending shivers up her spine.
No wonder he had a reputation as a heartbreaker back in high school, Cynthia thought, blinking against the sudden urge to step closer, lay her hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat and tuck her face against the warm, strong column of his throat to breathe in the subtle scent of his aftershave. I need to get a grip.
Before she could comment, the patter of feet on concrete sounded behind her, accompanied by the shrieks of children.
“Douglas, watch where you’re going!” a feminine voice warned.
The cautionary warning came too late. One of the little boys crashed into Cynthia from behind, knocking her forward.
And straight into Zach.
Her hands rested on his chest and his arms instantly wrapped around her. She was swamped with a flood of emotions—desire, and an odd sense of security. He was much taller than she and the top of her head barely reached his chin. The body she pressed against was solid and strong, the muscles of his chest hard where her palms flattened against him. Up close, the curve of his mouth was unbelievably seductive and his green eyes darkened as she stared.
Belatedly realizing she was lying against him, unmoving, she stirred and his arms instantly loosened. His hands shifted to her shoulders, his firm hold steadying her as she stepped back before he released her fully.
“I’m so sorry. Are you all right?” A worried female voice broke the spell.
Cynthia glanced over her shoulder at the flustered young mother, her gaze dropping to the little boy the woman held firmly by the hand.
“Yes.” She managed a shaky smile as she turned to face them. “Yes, I’m fine. No harm done.”
Relief moved over the young woman’s face. “Thank goodness.” She bent to the little boy. “Douglas, apologize to the lady.”
“Sorry.” The child looked up at Cynthia through thick lashes.
He was adorable. Charmed, she couldn’t be upset with him.
“That’s okay,” she said, smiling at him.
He rewarded her with an ear-to-ear grin that lit his face before he bashfully ducked his head.
With a final apology, the two women and their charges set off down the street.
Drawing a deep, steadying breath, Cynthia turned to face Zach.
His green gaze was intent, focused on her. She was instantly swamped with the memory of his arms around her, the sensation of her body pressed against his.
“Thanks for catching me,” she said. The effort to appear cool and unaffected by those brief moments took all her control.
“Anytime.” His mouth curved in a slow, wholly masculine smile.
Cynthia’s heartbeat stuttered before settling in a faster, harder rhythm.
With great effort, she pulled her gaze from his mouth and glanced at her watch. “Well, it was lovely to meet you, Zach—and welcome back to Indian Springs. I have to run. I have an appointment.” As she spoke, she took several backward steps down the sidewalk. “I’m sure I’ll see you around. It’s such a small town.” She smiled vaguely and turned on her heel. Walking swiftly and purposefully, she headed toward her car that was parked halfway down the block.
And felt his intense gaze with every step she took.
Zach watched her go, surprised at the speed with which she’d gone from friendly conversation to abrupt departure. His gaze tracked her smooth, graceful walk, the slight sway of her hips and the silky blond ponytail that brushed against her shoulders with each step.
Tired though he was after days of travel and little sleep, every cell in his body had snapped to attention the minute he’d seen her. Riveted, his eyes had swept her from head to toe, his body tightening as he did. Her legs were encased in snug jeans, and the red stiletto heels on her small feet made her legs look even longer. Her hair brushed against the red sweater she wore. A shopping bag and small leather handbag dangled from one hand.
He’d only been a few feet away when she attempted to step around the older, beefy cowboy blocking her path.
Zach registered the instant tenseness that gripped the slim, curvy female body.
Then she’d turned and he’d seen her face. Heart-shaped, with dark brows winging above deep blue eyes, high cheekbones, a stubborn little chin below a lush mouth—she was outrageously feminine.
The swift urge to protect and claim swept through him.
Down the sidewalk, Cynthia stepped off the curb and opened the driver’s door of a bright red sports car. A moment later, she backed out of the parking slot and drove away.
Zach shook his head. He hadn’t reacted to a woman with this much instant lust since he was a teenager. He shrugged and turned to stride to the entrance of the Anderson Law Office only yards away.
It must be the lack of sleep, he told himself.
Even as he blamed his reaction to Cynthia on exhaustion, Zach knew he was lying. He had to admit she’d knocked him off stride without trying, and when she’d smiled …
Damn, he thought ruefully. Just thinking about her smiling up at him was enough to make him want to turn around, find her and see if he could tease her into laughing again.
He realized he was standing outside the law office door, a half smile on his face, and shook his head to clear it.
He needed to focus on seeing the attorney and heading out to the Triple C.
He couldn’t help but wonder what Ned Anderson might reveal about his father—and if the attorney could explain why Joseph Coulter had named his sons in his will. Zach had avoided any thoughts about his estranged father for so long that having to talk about him felt strange—and oddly painful.
He steeled himself and pushed open the door.
Chapter Two
Chimes rang, announcing his presence as Zach entered the attorney’s office.
“Is Ned Anderson in?” he asked the receptionist.
“No, I’m sorry, he’s not. Do you have an appointment?” The older woman eyed him over half-glasses.
“No. My brother told me to stop and talk to him before I head home, but if he’s not available I’ll come back tomorrow.” Zach turned toward the door, not the slightest disappointed that the lawyer wasn’t in. He’d rather be at the ranch, sleeping in a warm bed, instead of meeting with his father’s estate attorney. He’d been traveling nonstop for nearly a week to get this far. The journey from the base camp at Mount Everest, where he’d spoken with Cade, had required hiking with stubborn pack mules, a train to the nearest city, and finally several airline flights just to reach the U.S. This morning he’d boarded an 11:00 a.m. flight from Seattle to Billings, where he’d rented the truck and driven to Indian Springs.
“Wait!” The woman’s voice stopped him and he looked back at her. “Are you Zach Coulter?”
“Yeah.” He paused to look back at her.
“Mr. Anderson had an emergency in Great Falls today, but he asked me to give you