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furrowed. What was he up to? He’d motioned the server over and ordered a beer by the time coherent thought formed. “What are you doing here?”
    Conner smirked. “Same as you, I’m guessing. Heard there was a bull riding competition in town.”
    Jessica huffed out an impatient breath. “No, I mean, what are you doing,” she waved her hands across the table at him, “here?”
    “Having a drink with a beautiful woman.”
    “But—”
    “Shhh.” He put two fingers over her mouth, gently dragging them along her bottom lip. “Don’t think.” He leaned back. “Did you order food?”
    “Um, yeah.” She was still trying to decipher his mood.
    “What’d you get?”
    “A steak.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “A woman after my own heart. I like it.” The server dropped off his beer and he said, “I’ll have another of whatever she’s having for dinner.” Turning back to her, he asked, “What?”
    “Just like that? You don’t know what I ordered.”
    “You ordered a steak. That’s good enough for me.” He stretched his long, well-muscled legs out to the side and leaned back in the booth, crossing his arms over his chest. “So I wanna apologize for being an asshole the other day.”
    “There’s no need—”
    “Are you gonna let me apologize or are you gonna argue with every single thing I say?” She shut up, her heart hammering in her chest and her sex heating at the steely tone of his voice. “That’s better. Anyway, I was kinda going nuts and I didn’t know how to handle it.” She still didn’t say anything. She figured if he wanted her to speak he’d tell her. He raised an eyebrow at her continued silence. “Are you obeying me or are you just pissed and not gonna talk?”
    “Obeying is a strong word,” she shot back, hoping to gain some equilibrium. “Let’s say I got the feeling if you wanted me to talk you’d tell me so.”
    He swore softly and she had to work to conceal her grin. She was getting to him. She, plump, plain Jessica Talbot from Nowhereville, Texas, was getting to a prime specimen of man like Conner Raub. Oh, and what a prime specimen he was. Conner had jet-black, wavy hair cut just a little too short for her to really get a good grip on. Then there were the dark eyes she knew turned almost black when he was angry or, she suspected, aroused, a nose broken at least once, probably by a bull, and a mouth she wanted to sink into and never let go of. His forearms, which were currently crossed over a gorgeous chest outlined by the thin fabric of his shirt, were corded with muscle and even more muscles strained the sleeves of said shirt as her gaze wandered toward his biceps. He had a narrow waist, though, and an ass she could bounce her prized collectible Susan B. Anthony silver dollar off. Her mouth watered.
    He leaned forward. “You’re a treasure. Fucking hell, what you do to me.” He ran the rough pads of his fingers down the side of her face. “Gorgeous.” Her gaze dropped to the table, but he grabbed her face in his big hand and tugged up. “What?”
    “I’m not gorgeous,” she mumbled, pulling her face away and turning to look out at the bar. He pulled her back around, forcing her to look at him. His eyes were flashing with a mixture of desire and anger. She swallowed thickly.
    “I don’t ever want to hear you put yourself down,” he said, his voice soft but deadly. Her sex clenched and she felt her nipples abrade the fabric of her bra. Was he going to make her come from his voice alone? She was in big trouble. She ran her tongue over parched lips. “Dammit!” he snarled just before he half-stood and leaned in to take ownership of her lips. And ownership was the only way she could describe it. He nipped, he sucked, he laved—he utterly possessed. She melted into his kiss.
    A moment later, she heard a soft clearing of a throat and jerked away from Conner. The server was standing a few feet away with their dinners in her hands. “Would you like me to keep