When Amber climbed out of the ranch pickup dressed like she’d just stepped off the back lot of a Wild West movie set, she could have knocked Jensen over with a feather boa—if she’d been wearing one. And that seemed to be the only thing missing.

She smiled as she closed the driver’s door. “Cat got your tongue?”

Apparently, more than his tongue was missing. His brain had been nabbed along with it.

“What’s the matter?” A grin tickled her lips. “You’re looking at me as though you think I’ve been out on the town, throwing down whiskey shots and dancing on the bar of every beer joint in the county. Haven’t you ever seen a saloon-girl costume before?”

Yes, but she’d caught him completely off guard, and he’d be darned if he knew what to say.

“Have you been driving around town dressed like that?” he asked, hating the jealousy that found its way into his voice.

At that, her grin faded. “No, I just came back from the Grange Hall.”

“What, pray tell, were you doing out in public dressed like that?”

She crossed her arms, which thrust her breasts upward—and nearly out of the outfit completely. “Is this some kind of inquisition?”

“No, I’m sorry. It wasn’t meant to be. It’s just that...” He scanned the length of her, from the upswept hair and—blimey. Had her eyes always been so large, her lashes so thick? And those cherry-red lips...

His imagination, along with his hormones, was running amok. And while he’d never considered himself a jealous man, he didn’t like the idea of her running around town so...so exposed.

“Did you stop by for a reason?”

Actually, he had. He’d noticed a breach in paparazzi security at the ranch and thought he’d slip away to see her in person, to ask if she’d like to ride into Vicker’s Corners to spend some time together. He hadn’t given the details much thought yet, but he wouldn’t be opposed to taking her for an ice cream cone and some window-shopping or some other perfectly simple and innocent venture.

He’d been going stir-crazy inside his sister’s house, and if he had to look at Quinn and Amelia gushing all over each other anymore, he’d take a polo mallet to the first camera lens he might encounter upon his escape. Luckily, though, he hadn’t had to take extreme measures to slip away.

But seeing Amber dressed like one of the vixens of the Wild West, he was no longer thinking of ice cream or considering a date that would end up being either simple or innocent.

“I came by to see you,” he admitted. “Just to talk, or to maybe whisk you away for a bit. But seeing you dressed like that—stunning and beautiful... Well, you’ve just shot my original plan all to hell. And now I’d like to whisk you away all right. But to live out a cowboy’s romantic fantasy.”

She glanced down at the dress, and his gaze followed, continuing down her shapely legs. Damn. It had to be the most grievous of sins to keep limbs like that covered in denim.

“The folks down at Cowboy Country USA were looking for a local girl to be in their ad campaign. They also...” She paused, glanced at her bare feet, which made him wonder what shoes she’d been sporting earlier. “Well, they had some other coals in the fire, which is what Larry Byerly had been talking to me about the other night at the Hollows Cantina. So Gram stitched up this costume for me, and I met him and another fellow at the Grange Hall earlier. It was all fun and games on my part. Sort of. I probably should have changed before I came home, but—”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

They stood like that for a moment, in the waning light of dusk—the beautiful saloon girl and the...

What? Who was he, really? A British royal—or a polished, stuffed toff?

Right this minute, though, it seemed that the only answer that really mattered was the one Amber could give him. And as the silence enveloped them, the layers of his facade—some gold, perhaps most gilded, but all of them carefully erected over the years or maybe even the centuries—seemed to slowly peel away.

The sounds and scents of the Texas ranch in the evening set an interesting stage for an intriguing fantasy that was building by the minute. And in spite of his social standing, his upbringing and his better judgment—which he couldn’t seem to fall back upon—a question rolled out of his mouth. “Is there someplace where we can be alone?”

Amber gazed at him with soulful eyes, and as she did, something passed between them—although he’d be damned if he knew what it was, since he’d never experienced the like.

“Gram and Elmer are in the house,” she said, “but there is somewhere close by where we can talk in private, although it’s not suitable for royalty.”

“I’m not royalty. I’m just...Jensen.”

And tonight, that’s exactly who he was.

Amber took his hand and led him to the barn. Once inside, she turned on the light. “There’s no one around to see us in here—other than the horses. And I can assure you that they won’t gossip or take photo ops.”

“That’s a relief.” He led her over to a hay bale, and they took a seat. But once they did, things turned awkward.

When he’d mentioned getting her alone, he hadn’t meant to sit and talk. And doing any more than that in a barn...well, it just didn’t need contemplating.

He had no idea what to say, other than how utterly beautiful she was—and how just looking at her gave him an out-of-body experience. Bloody hell, it was an out-of-this-century experience, as well.

To get things back on an even keel, he said, “I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be in Horseback Hollow. My mother wants me to stay until after the weddings in February, but I have business obligations back home.”

“Yes, you said that the other night. Is that what you came to tell me?” she asked.

“No, it’s not.” Perhaps he should be honest. “I came because I thoroughly enjoy being with you. I lo—I like your wit, your sense of humor, your spunk. And you’ve made my time in Horseback Hollow most pleasant.”

“Pleasant? I hope that’s more complimentary in London than I’m taking it about now.”

“I’m sorry for the language barrier we seem to have, but yes, I find myself thinking of you at all times of the day and night. And when I do, those thoughts make me smile.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Jensen, because I feel the same way. When I first met you at Quinn’s house the day after Christmas, I didn’t like you. And I thought we’d have issues if we ever met again. But I actually like tangling with you.”

He laughed. “Tangling, huh?”

“Yep.”

They sat there for a moment, side by side on the hay. Then he reached out, took her hand and felt the work-roughened palm he’d come to admire.

“Is that why you wanted to be alone? So you could tell me that?”

He pondered the wisdom of pure honesty, but only for a moment. The lack of pretense was what he liked best about his relationship with Amber. And yes, it had become more than a friendship lately, although he wasn’t entirely sure how much more.

“Actually,” he admitted, “I wanted us to be alone so I could tell you that I wouldn’t mind...”

He’d never been at a loss for words with women before, but this was different. Amber was different. And not in the most obvious of ways.

“You wouldn’t mind what?” she asked.

Now it was his turn to grin. “Tangling with you tonight.”

At that, she turned to him, her lips parting. “You want to argue and banter?”

“No, not at all. I didn’t mean sparring verbally.” He brushed a kiss across her lips—lightly, tentatively. “There are other ways to tangle. Like this.”

“When put that way, I’d be agreeable to tangling with you.” She broke into a pretty grin, transforming the saloon girl into a... Hell, he wasn’t sure what, exactly, but princess certainly came to mind.

“This barn wouldn’t be conducive to what I’d actually had in mind,” he said, “but if you give me a little time, I’ll plan a romantic evening. That is, if you don’t mind a temporary fling with a man who finds you an amazing, intriguing and delightful woman.”

With that, she gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m up for a temporary tangle, even though I’m not into one-night stands or casual affairs. But I’ve come to care for you, Jensen. And because we live in different worlds, there doesn’t seem to be any other way for us to see where our kisses might lead.”

“So you’d be okay with a no-strings attached affair?”

“To be honest, if you leave town and I never see you again, I’d always regret not knowing what we might have shared—even if it’s just a one-time thing.”

“Then I’ll find us a perfect romantic getaway.”

“No need to do that. I have one available—right here, right now.”

In a dirty, dusty barn? Surely she wasn’t serious.

But when she placed her hand on his cheek, he realized that she was indeed serious. And with that gentle touch, the slight roughness of her palm uncovered a raw desire that sent his hormones soaring and his blood racing, and he realized he’d agree to anything she suggested.

“Come with me.” She stood and took his hand, walking toward a ladder that led to the hayloft.

As Amber led Jensen up the steps, as he watched the sway of her hips, he was glad that he’d thought to bring a condom with him. Not that he planned to have need of one tonight, but he didn’t take chances. And he’d...well, he’d hoped something like this would happen, although he’d never expected to have a saloon girl suggest that they make love in a hayloft.

Still, he found the whole idea rather exciting.

When they reached the top rung, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Several quilts had been spread over the hay-littered flooring near a rickety nightstand that held a battery-operated lantern and a portable radio.

For a moment, he had to wonder if she’d been expecting him and had planned to invite him to join her here all along.

“I haven’t been up here in a year or longer,” Amber said, “so it might be a little dusty. But it’s comfy.”

Rodeo posters of cowgirls lined the walls, and a small bookshelf held several paperbacks and a stack of magazines.

“This was my hideout when I was a teenager. I used to come up here to read and think. And often just to dream.” She shrugged, then strode over to the nightstand and turned on the lantern, as well as the radio, which played the sounds of soft rock. “It might not seem like much to you, but it was a castle in a faraway land to me back then.”

“It looks pretty special to me now.”

And so did she.

As they stood in the hayloft, in the yellowed glow of the old lamp, he felt rather heroic, like a Western sheriff who’d fought the bad guys and returned to town after earning the right to woo his lady’s heart.

Her heart? All daydreaming aside, their reality didn’t allow him the luxury of assessing the emotions involved, although admittedly they were brewing under the surface.

But right now, all he could think about was how lovely and alluring Amber was, dressed in that sexy red satin and looking at him as though she was feeling every bit as aroused and tempted as he was.

He reached out and unpinned her hair, allowing it to fall along her bare shoulders and down her back. She smiled, then scooped her soft curls aside and turned so he could unzip her costume. He took a moment to linger, to inhale her peach blossom scent and to graze his fingers along her skin.

Finally, he reached for the zipper. As the garment opened and slipped to the ground, she turned to face him wearing a black strapless bra and matching panties. His breath caught. The cowgirl had morphed into a goddess, a sight to behold.

Her body, curvaceous yet lithe, was everything he’d imagined it to be and more.

Talk about fantasies coming to fruition. But for the life of him, this was one fantasy he never wanted to end.

* * *

As Jensen drew Amber back into his arms and claimed her with a heated kiss, she leaned into him, ready to give him all she had to offer—and to take whatever he was willing to give.

If the kisses they’d shared had been a sample of what was to come, making love with Jensen was going to be magical—memorable. Yet it wasn’t just a sexual act. Not as far as she was concerned.

He ran his hand along the curve of her back and down the slope of her hips, then pulled her hips forward, against his erection, letting her know how badly he wanted her. A surge of desire shot clear to her core, and she pressed back against him, revealing her own need.

When she thought she was going to die from the ache of her arousal, she ended the kiss long enough to unsnap her bra and let it drop to the straw-covered floor.

“I knew you were beautiful under that denim and flannel, but I had no idea you were so...stunning, so perfect.” He reached for her breasts, his thumbs skimming her nipples and sending her senses reeling.

She knew better than to think about concepts like forever when they only had tonight—or perhaps a few more like this. But everything about Jensen and what they were doing seemed so right.

When she feared her knees would no longer hold her up, he scooped her in his arms and carried her to the quilt. Then he dropped to one knee and gently lay her down. A true knight—with or without the official royal title.

He studied her for a moment, passion glazing his eyes, then he proceeded to remove his shirt, baring himself to her. When he was undressed, and she caught the full sight of him, the sheer beauty of his chiseled chest and abs, she scolded herself for ever thinking polo wasn’t a serious sport. The man was well-muscled perfection, and she wanted to pull him down to her so they could start kissing right where they’d left off.

“I hope you don’t think I came here planning to do this tonight, but I did bring some protection along with me.”

“If I’d known this was going to happen, I would have had fresh linen, rose petals and candles.”

“I’m glad you didn’t think of candles. I can’t imagine how we would have explained a barn fire, especially if the news reached the Cross Town Crier.”

She laughed. “And then the paparazzi would have had a real heyday with that.”

“They might have said our scorching hot affair had set the quilt on fire.”

“Think we should risk it?” she asked.

“I might spontaneously combust if we don’t.”

She laughed, then opened her arms. He joined her, and they continued to kiss, to taste, to stroke each other, skin to skin. As her thumb brushed across his nipple, he sucked in a breath.

For a moment, her feminine confidence, which had been soaring through the roof only moments ago, waffled. “I’m sorry my hands aren’t as soft as the other women you’ve—”

He grabbed her by the wrists and gave them a firm squeeze, his gaze locking on hers with an intensity that stilled her voice, her thoughts and even her fears. “Your skin and hands are perfect, Amber. And your work ethic is one of the things I find most attractive about you. Don’t ever apologize for that. Your touch stimulates me in a way I’ve never experienced.”

“You aren’t just pulling my leg?”

His expression softened, and a smile tugged at his lips. “I meant what I said about tangling with you earlier, so I might tug your legs a bit before the evening is over. But all translations aside, your hands are exquisite.”

Then he kissed all her insecurities away until she was drowning in need. After he slipped on the condom, he entered her. And as her body responded to his, as their tempo increased until there was no one else in the world but the two of them, it seemed that they were in that magical castle she’d always imagined this old barn to be.

This wasn’t Amber’s first time making love, but it certainly felt like it. Jensen was an amazing lover—no doubt experienced with all the “dalliances” she’d read about, the women he’d dated all over the world.

But she wouldn’t think about that now. Not while he was doing such amazing things, making her body move and arch, releasing far more than an uninhibited sexuality she hadn’t realized she had. He was triggering emotions she’d only dreamed of feeling.

As his tempo increased, she raised her hips to meet him, feeling as though she was on a sexual roller coaster, her heart racing, her pulse spiking. She went up and up, then raced down and around.

She was in and out of control, yet breathlessly anticipating each and every unexpected jolt and turn. And as she reached a peak, she cried out and let go. Jensen shuddered with his release, and they came together in an earth-rumbling, soul-soaring climax she would never forget.

As she held him close, enjoying the ebb and flow of the most amazing afterglow, she was reluctant to release her hold because making love with Jensen had been a ride to beat all rides.

And since she’d just come to realize that she didn’t want to settle for a temporary affair, this was one carnival ride that was bound to break her heart in the end.

* * *

Jensen didn’t dare breathe, let alone move.

He wasn’t anywhere near as sexually experienced as the tabloids reported him to be, but he’d certainly been with worldly women before—and in some rather glamorous locations, including five-star hotel suites, Scottish castles and more than one Italian villa. So needless to say, a Texas barn was a first.

But if he was to compare making love with Amber in a hayloft to the rest, the other ladies and bedrooms would pale.

Whether in denim and flannel or red satin and black lace, Amber Rogers had a way of rocking his world. And in this case, she’d certainly pulled the proverbial rug out from under his feet.

Not to take Texas colloquialisms too far, but how in blue blazes had she done that?

The mutual desire had been a large part of it, sure. When she’d cried out with her climax, he’d released with her in a sexual explosion that had him seeing stars, in spite of the fact that they weren’t out in the open and that there was an old wooden roof overhead.

He rolled to the side, yet he continued to hold her close, reluctant to let her go. He didn’t have to ask how it was for her. He’d felt it in her touch, heard it in her sighs.

They lay like that for the longest time, sated and...well, amazed was a pretty good description.

He feared the questions that might follow, things like, Where shall we go from here?

Because, in reality, whatever they’d shared this evening couldn’t really go anywhere other than here in Horseback Hollow. As fond as he’d grown of Amber, as much as he’d like to spend every waking hour he had with her while he was in town, he couldn’t see them having much more than that.

Their lives were so completely different that it would be impossible to mesh them. Besides, he had family obligations in London and a patriarchal image to maintain.

He could, of course, come visit her from time to time, whenever he was in town to see his family. But he couldn’t expect her to put her life on hold, staying single for those few and far between visits.

Still, as he drew her close, as he inhaled her faint peach scent and pulled a piece of straw from her silky hair, he felt as though he held an unexpected treasure.

Amber Rogers was an attractive and intriguing woman, one he found entertaining and a world apart from the upper-class socialites he normally dated. She also made him smile as often as she challenged him, which kept him on his toes.

Not a day went by, and hardly a moment, that he didn’t think about her and wonder what she was doing. They’d become close friends, dear friends. And now they were even more than that—they were lovers.

Of course, as soon as the weddings were over in February, he’d be making a trip to the airfield, where he would board a chartered flight on Redmond-Fortune Air to Dallas, connecting to British Airways and flying first class to Heathrow.

But for the first time since in arriving in Texas, Jensen wasn’t the least bit homesick for London—or eager to return.

Chapter Ten

Jensen refused to risk Amber’s reputation with the threat of the paparazzi still lurking. And even if he wasn’t concerned about them making a tabloid-newsworthy spectacle of themselves, he couldn’t trust himself to see her and keep his hands off her. Instead, they talked on the mobile several times each day. But it was never enough.

He’d give anything to whisk her away to a deserted island, where he could be alone with her, but they were stuck in Horseback Hollow, where he was finding it more and more difficult to keep their relationship quiet. All his efforts at secrecy made him fidgety—or maybe his wish to spend every spare moment he had with Amber was doing that.

Either way, Quinn had picked up on it and brought it to the forefront during the third week in January, while they had their morning coffee.

“Looks to me like you have a little cabin fever,” Quinn said.

Jensen slipped his hands into his trouser pockets, and his fingers wrapped around the gold watch. “A bit, I suppose. I can’t seem to slip out of here without the paparazzi sitting up and taking note.”

“You sure that’s all it is?”

No, but Jensen didn’t feel like talking about it. “They’ll eventually get tired of hanging out here and go look for a story elsewhere.”

“Seems like you’d be used to all that. There’s nothing else bothering you?”

“Being away from home for so long has me concerned about the office, the Chesterfield estate and that sort of thing.”

“That’s it, huh?”

“What makes you think there’s anything more than that?”

“Because you’re wearing out the floorboards pacing back and forth. And you keep picking up your cell phone—or mobile, as you call it—as if you’re dying to place a call. Yet I know what time you typically talk to your assistant back home, thanks to the time change, and that you told me that your office seems to have things well under control across the pond.” Quinn took a sip of coffee, stretched out his legs and smiled. “So I thought it might have more to do with a pretty former rodeo queen.”

Jensen stiffened, but he didn’t give his brother-in-law’s theory any credence. At least, not verbally. Ostensibly, his body language might not be so subtle.

“I’m the last one in the world to believe anything those tabloids print,” Quinn added. “But I have to admit, you look a little lovesick to me.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You’d know best,” Quinn said.

“That’s right.” But did he really?

Jensen blew out a sigh. “All right, I’ll admit it. Amber Rogers has caught my eye—and she’s taken up a good deal of my thoughts. But nothing can come of it. And while I’d like to spend more of my time with her while I’m here, I don’t want her to have to deal with the paparazzi.”

“I hear you. Those jerks made Amelia’s life hell for a while—mine, too. And we’ve been keeping a low profile so they won’t do it again.” Quinn carried his empty mug to the sink and rinsed it out. “But if you and Amber enjoy each other’s company, it seems a shame to let those guys ruin what little time you have left.”

He certainly had a point.

After Quinn left the kitchen through the mudroom, grabbed his hat and headed outside, Jensen sat alone, pondering his dilemma. He’d let his worries about his privacy and the paparazzi steal precious time he could have spent with Amber face-to-face. And the clock was ticking. He only had about three weeks left in town.

Who knew when he’d be back? So he reached for his mobile and called Amber.

She answered on the second ring. “Good morning. You’re up early.”

No need to tell her he hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since he’d left her ranch the night they’d made love in her barn. “I thought I’d have a cup of coffee with Quinn.”

“What? Trading in your teapot for a coffee grinder?” She tsked her tongue. “Sounds as though the Texas ruffians are having a bad influence on you.”

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