A Cowboy's Christmas Wedding. Pamela Britton
fence, that was what it felt like. As if a million joules of energy stole his breath away. He froze.
“Well?”
His taste buds failed to function, too. So did his heart. And his lungs.
“Good,” he managed to mumble.
“Just good?”
It took every ounce of control not to jerk away. Not to jump to his feet and dash away.
“I like the strawberry one better.”
She nodded. He sat there.
What the hell was that?
But he knew. That was more than mere sexual attraction. That was want. That was need. That was trouble.
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