One Hot Texan. Jane Sullivan
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she thought she’d faint from the feeling.
Not once in her life had a man so much as touched her. She’d never been on a date, never been kissed, never chatted with a girlfriend about boys. She’d never had a man look into her eyes with desire or tell her she was beautiful. She wasn’t, of course. They didn’t come any plainer than Virginia White, so she had to face facts. She was going to need a little extra something that didn’t involve a traffic-stopping body or a Miss America smile.
Maybe it was all in the way a woman moved. That was apparently what a platinum blonde on the dance floor right now thought as she undulated against her partner. Making love standing up. That’s what it looked like. Not that Virginia knew the details of such a thing, but even a cloistered nun could see what that woman had in mind.
Virginia couldn’t say she blamed her.
If she’d been dancing with a man as sexy as that woman’s partner, it might make her hormones shift into overdrive, too. He was tall, well over six feet, moving to the music as if he’d been born to do it. Virginia inhaled the sight of him, her gaze traveling from his rock-solid shoulders, to his narrow waist, to his hips and thighs swaying rhythmically inside a pair of snug, well-worn jeans. Thick, dark hair brushed the back of his shirt collar, and she watched as the blonde eased her hands upward and threaded her fingers through it. Virginia wondered what that would feel like. She wondered what all of it would feel like—dancing, touching, even kissing. She blushed at the very thought of it, but that didn’t stop her mind from wandering into previously uncharted territory. Then he turned, and she had a sudden, stunning view of an incredibly handsome face.
She blinked. It couldn’t be.
Cole McCallum.
She felt a hot rush at the realization of just who it was she was looking at. It had been a lot of years since she’d seen him, but he wasn’t the kind of guy you easily forgot. She’d been a freshman when he was a senior, but still she’d fantasized about him, even though good girls weren’t supposed to have the hots for bad boys. Not that it would have mattered which way her hots were directed. A guy like Cole McCallum would never have been interested in a shy, dumpy little wallflower who would have gone into cardiac arrest if he’d so much as glanced in her direction.
Maybe it was a good thing he’d never looked her way. If there was one thing she’d learned by keeping her mouth shut and her ears open, it was that Cole’s good looks and lady-killing smile were nothing more than bait for any unsuspecting girl who happened to wander into his web.
The band wrapped up the song and Cole left the dance floor, the blonde clinging to him like moss on a tree. Age had only improved him, turning a cocky, hell-raising, sexy-looking teenager into a smooth, confident, sexy-looking man. She couldn’t say for sure if the hell-raising part still applied, but she doubted that inclination had left him entirely.
Virginia caught the bartender’s eye and ordered another beer, and before long the room began to spin in a most pleasant manner. She closed her eyes and listened hard, but the alcohol had chased away her mother’s voice. She drained the beer and set the empty bottle on the bar with a definitive clunk. Warmth coursed through her all the way to her toes, and she sighed with contentment.
For the first time in her life she felt free.
Nobody was standing over her shoulder passing judgment. Nobody was telling her what to think. Nobody was soliciting thunderbolts from the heavens as a punishment for the slightest transgression. She was in charge of her own destiny and answered to no one.
She watched Cole dance with another woman, following his tall, gorgeous body like a moth follows light. Beer number three hit home, and she started to think that maybe there wasn’t that much difference between her and those other women he seemed so interested in. It was possible, wasn’t it, that she might even have some qualities they didn’t?
A boldness she’d never felt before unfurled inside her like a tight rosebud opening to the sun. As the minutes ticked by, she started to feel less like a wallflower and more like a woman who could rule the world. She rose from her bar stool, wobbling a little, but never losing sight of the opportunity that was staring her right in the face.
Maybe a bad boy like Cole McCallum was exactly what this good girl needed.
2
COLE TOOK a sip from his long neck, settled back in his chair and surveyed the situation. It didn’t look good.
The Lone Wolf was filled to capacity, teeming with Friday nightlife. He’d been here several times before, years ago. Even though he’d been underage through most of that time, he’d never had any trouble getting in the door. Even at seventeen he’d looked twenty-one, standing six-foot-two with an attitude even taller, tempered by a killer smile he’d learned early to use to his advantage. And he’d be willing to put it to good use right now, if only he could find that one special woman who wouldn’t mind being married for six months and then disappearing.
In the glove compartment of his car was the necessary prenuptial agreement that would allow him to sidestep Texas community property laws, along with the phone numbers of a couple of the airlines so he could snag some last-minute tickets to Vegas tomorrow night. But the woman…now that was going to be a bigger problem than he anticipated.
Not that he didn’t already have a few candidates. Within ten minutes of his arrival, three ladies had made themselves at home at his table. The first had been Tonya Jenkins, a bleach blonde who’d graduated from Coldwater High the same year he had and now lived in Tyler. She wore a denim miniskirt and fringed leather vest that closed over her ample breasts with a single tie—without the benefit of a shirt beneath it. Everything about her was excessive, from the height of her oversprayed hair to the makeup she’d applied with a steamroller, to the way she kept running her bloodred fingernails up and down his arm. He remembered now it was because of Tonya that he’d developed such an aversion to pushy women.
She grabbed his hand. “C’mon, Cole. Let’s dance.”
She had that look of hot anticipation on her face that told him if he so much as raised an eyebrow, she’d have her skirt up and her panties down in a heartbeat.
He maintained an easygoing smile. “Think I’ll sit this one out.”
“But you danced with Shelly and Tiffany.” She pressed that cherry-red bottom lip of hers into a full pout, and he could tell his mission tonight was going to be a much bigger challenge than he’d anticipated.
He’d tried to look up some of the women he knew in Dallas to see if any of them might be interested in a temporary marriage, but without exception they’d moved on to other eligible bachelors months ago when they discovered he had an arson accusation hanging over his head. So he jumped into his car and headed here, figuring a local girl might make a better candidate anyway. Someone from around here would be more likely to submit to life on a ranch for six months, while the women he knew in Dallas would last about a week before they burst into tears and rushed back to the city for a trip to Neiman Marcus and lunch at the Palm.
The downside of marrying a girl from the Coldwater area was that it pretty much insured that Murphy would find out the marriage wasn’t the real thing. But according to the provisions of the will, as long as Cole got married by midnight tomorrow night and he and his bride spent six months on the ranch as man and wife, Murphy couldn’t pull the plug on the deal just because they weren’t committed to a lifetime relationship. At the end of that time period, Cole would sell the ranch, give his new ex-wife twenty-five thousand dollars for her trouble, then take the rest of the proceeds and get on with the life he was meant to live.
He surveyed the women at his table. Shelly was a definite possibility. She was decent looking, with platinum blond hair and a pair of breasts that were beyond belief. A few quick questions had netted him the answers he needed to move forward. No, she wasn’t married; no, she wasn’t thinking of leaving town anytime soon; and yes, she was a spontaneous person. Unfortunately she seemed about as bright as a two-watt bulb.
Tiffany, on the other hand,