Read Online The Rancher and the Redhead by Suzannah Davis - Free Book Online Page A

the soft shape of it, the lush lower lip that hinted of latent sensuality. Now he couldn’t stop looking at it, nor thinking about the way she tasted. The way she chewed at the corner of it when she was worried drove him crazy. And her smile... There couldn’t be a more perfect mouth with a more perfect smile in all the universe. Just made for a man to explore...
    Sam reined his galloping thoughts to a reluctant halt. Preston, you’re crazy. Cut it out.
    I must be going crazy, Roni thought. Though she carried on perfectly sensible conversations, she had no notion of what she said. But when Sam spared her the merest look, she knew it instantly and felt a flush all the way to her core. And when his gaze fell to her mouth, her lips tingled in remembered ecstasy and longing.
    This sensitivity was as unexpected as it was unwelcome, she told herself sternly. What if this sudden awareness was all on her part? How humiliating. Sam hadn’t bargained for that. No, she’d simply have to get control of these surging emotions. They were no doubt due to the strains of the day, not anything more than a passing physical awareness that would soon die back down where it belonged when things returned to normal. After all, they’d agreed. And Sam was a man of his word.
    You’re a man who stands by his word, Preston. Forget it. Forget how good Roni tasted, or you’re liable to drive her away. Sam’s mouth went dry with fear at the thought, and inexplicably stayed that way, even through the toasting with the champagne Jinks had brought, through the cake tasting and the bouquet throwing.
    Because sooner or later, he knew he was going to be alone with Roni—with his new wife—and for the life of him, agreement or not, he didn’t know how he was going to resist the temptation to kiss her again.

Four
    â€œY ou sure you don’t mind about the honeymoon?”
    â€œNo, Sam.”
    â€œMaybe we should have driven into Fort Worth for the night. It’s still not too late. We could—”
    â€œSam?”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œPut a cork in it.” Roni stepped out of her wedding pumps and pressed her aching arches to the cool kitchen floor with a soft sigh of relief. Outside, the crickets sang their night song in the sweet spring grass. “We agreed it was better to come home. She’s absolutely worn-out.”
    â€œYeah.” Sam cuddled a drooping Jessie against his shoulder, ignoring the damp circle her drool made on his shirt. He’d discarded his jacket and tie long before, and his sun-streaked hair had returned to its usual finger-ruffled disorder. Lifting a hand, he rubbed his thumb over Roni’s cheekbone. “She’s not the only one who looks tuckered out.”
    Roni froze under his unexpected caress, and her stomach flipped over. She forced a breathy laugh. “It’s not nice to call your wife a hag.”
    Sam’s eyes darkened to the deep blue of a mountain lake. “You’re beautiful. Surely you know that?”
    Rattled beyond belief, Roni moved away from his touch, trying to find her equilibrium with another laugh. “And you’ve had too much champagne, cowboy. As weddings go, ours was really something, don’t you think?”
    â€œYeah, something.”
    The husky timbre of his voice and the heat in his eyes evoked a wayward memory of their bridal kiss— the kiss, she labeled it in her mind now—as well as a stab of panic that made her chatter nervously.
    â€œThe cake actually tasted good, but I was glad I overruled Mother about the fountain. And wasn’t the music unique? But Jessie stole the show, of course.”
    Sam grinned slightly. “Of course.”
    â€œAnd wasn’t it nice to have everyone just turn up like that?” The hem of Roni’s lace dress swished about her calves as she unpinned her headpiece, then set it on the table next to her wedding bouquet. Her fingers lingered on the