The Loneliest Cowboy. Pamela Macaluso
“I Feel Cheated Because I Can’t Remember Everything About That Night,” Letter to Reader Title Page PAMELA MACALUSO Dedication Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Copyright
“I Feel Cheated Because I Can’t Remember Everything About That Night,”
Clint told Skye.
“You remember a lot more than I thought you did.”
“Help me remember the rest.” He spoke just above a whisper.
All Skye’s senses were on overload. Logic said she should hightail it out of there as fast as humanly possible. But she knew she wouldn’t.
She wanted to help Clint remember. Help him remember by making love with him again....
Dear Reader,
Welcome to a wonderful new year at Silhouette Desire! Let’s start with a delightfully humorous MAN OF THE MONTH by Lass Small—The Coffeepot Inn. Here, a sinfully sexy hero is tempted by a virtuous woman. He’s determined to protect her from becoming the prey of the local men—and he’s determined to win her for himself!
The HOLIDAY HONEYMOONS miniseries continues this month with Resolved To (Re)Marry by Carole Buck. Don’t miss this latest installment of this delightful continuity series!
And the always wonderful Jennifer Greene continues her STANFORD SISTERS series with Bachelor Mom. As many of you know, Jennifer is an award winner, and this book shows why she is so popular with readers and critics alike!
Completing the month are a new love story from the sizzling pen of Beverly Barton, The Tender Trap; a delightful Western from Pamela Macaluso,
The Loneliest Cowboy; and something a little bit different from Ashley Summers, On Wings of Love.
Enjoy!
Senior Editor
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325. Buffalo, NY 14269 Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
The Loneliest Cowboy
Pamela Macaluso
PAMELA MACALUSO
wanted to be a writer from the moment she realized people actually wrote the wonderful stories that were read to her. Since she is extremely curious and has an overactive imagination, writing is the perfect career for her. Curiosity is a necessary part of “research,” and flights of fantasy can be called “plotting”—terms she prefers to “nosy” and “woolgathering.”
While she loves movies, Pamela would choose a good book over any other form of entertainment. It sometimes takes a search party to get her out of a library or bookstore.
For Tom Barnes.
Thanks for watching all those cowboy movies, Grandpa. And an extra thank-you for teaching me to watch out for the cows!
One
Clint Slade strolled into the Rocking W Coffee Shop in search of a caffeine rush. He got a rush, all right, of the testosterone kind. Walking down the center aisle of the restaurant, holding a tray and heading toward a couple in the far corner booth was the shapeliest thing he’d seen in denim and boot leather. The cowbell tied to the knob clanked as he closed the door.
The woman didn’t look his way, or break stride. “I’ll be right with you.”
Take your time, honey.
Clint pushed his black cowboy hat farther back to give himself a better view. Watching her walk was a pleasure. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was he found so appealing, but damn, he sure liked the way she moved.
Her blond hair was braided in a single plait that hung down her back. He imagined himself untwining it, could almost feel its silky texture slipping through his fingers...
He watched as she refilled the customers’ glasses with iced tea. They were the only ones here, besides himself. In an hour, after the bar across the parking lot closed, the place would be packed with people grabbing an early breakfast before heading home to sleep off their night out. But at the moment, it was quiet.
The waitress turned in his direction. Blue...he hoped her eyes were blue.
At first, she was smiling. Then a look that might have been surprise, or fear, flashed across her face before her lips settled back into a polite smile. Once she had closed the distance between them, he forgot about the changes he’d noticed in her expression and stared into her blue eyes.
“Would you like a table, booth or a seat at the counter?”
What he’d like and what he was likely to get were two different things. He forced his mind away from the need that had been developing while he’d watched her and onto the need that had brought him into the coffee shop in the first place—his fatigue and the twenty miles left on his late-night drive home from San Antonio to the Diamond S Ranch.
“Just coffee to go.”
She nodded, then walked behind the counter, treating him to another look at the sway of her hips. He’d bet she was dynamite on the dance floor...not to mention between the sheets.
Attractive or not, he admonished himself silently, he shouldn’t be thinking about her that way. He had a strict rule about not sleeping with any woman who lived within a hundred miles of Harmony Ridge, Texas. He liked to keep his business interests, his personal life and the satisfying of his physical needs separate so they didn’t interfere with each other—it was a lesson he’d learned the hard way.
“New to town?” he asked. He hadn’t seen her working here before. Of course, he usually came in during the day. It had been years since he’d been part of the late-night breakfast crowd.
“Cream or sugar?” she