Tyler. Diana Palmer
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the leather and tobacco smells that clung to his soft cotton shirt, the sound of his heartbeat under her ear. This would be something to dream about when he left. But now, she had to be strong.
She pulled away from him and he let her go. She knew that there was no hope for her in his life. Margie was more like him—she was sophisticated and good-looking and mature. They’d hit it off like a house on fire, and Nell had to keep that in mind and not let her heart get addicted to Tyler. Because Margie wanted him, Nell was sure of it. And Margie always got what she wanted.
She drew in a shaky breath. “Thanks for the comfort,” she said. She even forced a smile. “You don’t have to worry about me. I won’t make things hard for you.” She looked up, her brown eyes very soft and dark, shimmering with a hurt that she was trying so hard to keep from him.
Tyler felt something stir in him that knocked him in the knees. She had the most beautiful, sensual eyes he’d ever seen. They made him hungry, but for things that had no physical expression. She made him feel as if he’d been out in the cold all his life, and there was a warm fire waiting for him.
Nell felt that hunger in him, but she was afraid of it. His eyes had become a glittering green, and they were so intent that she flushed and dropped her gaze to his chest. He made her weak all over. If he looked at her like that very often, she’d have to go off into the desert forever. She felt as if he were taking possession of her without a physical move.
She stepped back, nervous, unsure of herself. “I’d better go inside.”
“About those new men—they’re only temporary. Just until we get through roundup.” His voice sounded oddly strained. He lit a cigarette, surprised to find that his fingers were unsteady. “They’ll be here in a few weeks.”
She managed a shy smile. “Well, I’ll try not to treat them like ax murderers,” she promised nervously. “I’m sorry about the square dance. About leaving you to deal with Margie.” She lifted her shoulders jerkily.
“I don’t mind. But don’t make a habit of it, okay?” he asked, smiling to soften the words. He reached out and tugged a lock of her long, unruly hair. “I’m feeling a little raw right now, Nell. I’ve lost my home, my job…everything that used to matter. I’m still trying to find my feet. There’s no place in my life for a woman just yet.”
“I’m sorry about what you lost, Tyler,” she said with genuine sincerity, gazing up at his hard, dark face. “But you’ll get it all back one day. You’re that kind of person. I can’t see you giving up and settling for weekly wages.”
He smiled slowly, surprised at her perception. “Can’t you? You’re no quitter yourself, little Nell.”
She blushed. “I’m not little.”
He moved a step closer with a new kind of slowness, a sensual kind of movement that made Nell’s heart stop and then skip wildly. She could barely breathe, the manly cologne he wore drifting into her nostrils, seducing her. “You’re not very big, either,” he mused. He touched the very visible pulse in her soft neck, tracing it with a long, teasing finger that made it jump. “Nervous, honey?” he breathed.
She could hardly find enough breath to answer him. “I…I have to go inside.”
His head bent so that his green eyes were looking straight into her dark ones while that maddening finger traced a hot path down her throat and up to her jaw. “Do you?” he asked in a husky whisper, and his breath touched her parted lips like a kiss.
“Tyler…” Odd, how different her voice sounded. Strained. Almost frantic.
His eyes fell to her mouth, and he wanted it suddenly and fiercely. His chest rose and fell quickly, his eyes glittered down at her. He almost bent that scant inch that would have brought her soft, full mouth under his. But she was trembling, and he couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t from fear. It was too soon. Much too soon.
He forced himself to draw back, but his hand gripped her shoulder tightly before he let her go. “See you later,” he said with a slow smile.
She cleared her throat. For one wild second, she’d thought he meant to kiss her, but that was absurd. “Sure,” she said huskily. “See you.”
She turned and went into the house on wobbly legs. She was going to have to get her imagination under control. Tyler was only teasing, just as he had in the beginning. At least he still liked her. If she could control her foolish heart, they might yet become friends. She could hardly hope for anything more, with Margie around.
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