Read In Bed with the Wrangler for Free Online Page B

“Sure.”
    “Then you better have a high limit. Some of them are six figures.” Feed, lumber, vet bills. The list went on and on.
    He eased away from the door frame and ambled toward her. “There must be a checkbook around here somewhere.”
    “I didn’t see one.” Not that she’d combed through the desk drawers. There was plenty to do sorting through what was piled on top. “How long did you say McQuestin had been off?”
    “Three weeks. Why?”
    “Some of these bills are two months old. That’s hell on your credit rating, you know.”
    He moved closer, and she forced herself to drag her gaze from his rangy body.
    To distract herself, she lifted the closest unopened envelope and sliced through the seam with the ivory-handled opener, extracting another folded invoice. The distraction didn’t help. Her nostrils picked up his fresh, outdoorsy scent, and his arm brushed her shoulder, sending an electric current over her skin as he slid open a top desk drawer.
    Lifting several items out of the way, he quickly produced a narrow, leather-bound booklet and tossed it on the desk. “Here you go. Start protecting my credit rating.”
    “Like the bank would honor my signature.” She knew she should shift away, but something magnetic kept her sitting right where she was, next to his narrow hip and strong thigh. She didn’t even care that his jeans were dusty.
    Not that it would matter if anything rubbed off. She was dressed in a plain, khaki T-shirt and a pair of faded jeans she’d borrowed from Stephanie’s cache in the upstairs bedroom. She could press herself against Royce from head to toe, and simply clean up later with soap and water.
    The idea was far too appealing. She felt heat flare in the pit of her stomach as an image bloomed in her mind.
    “I’ll sign a bunch for you.” His voice interrupted her burgeoning fantasy as he flipped open the checkbook.
    She blinked herself back to reality. “I assume you’re joking.”
    “Why would I be joking?” He leaned over, hunting through the drawer again, bringing himself into even closer contact with her.
    She shifted imperceptibly in his direction, and his cotton-clad arm brushed her bare one. She sucked in a tight breath.
    He retrieved a pen.
    She suddenly realized he was serious, and placed her hand over the top check. “You can’t do that.”
    He turned, pen poised, bringing their faces into close proximity. “Why not?”
    “Because I could write myself a check, a very big check, and then cash it.”
    He rolled his eyes
    “Don’t give me that ‘shucks ma’am’ expression—”
    ‘“Shucks, ma‘am’?”
    “You didn’t just wander in off the back forty. You know I could drain your account.”
    “Would you?”
    “I could ,” she stressed. Theoretically, of course.
    He twirled the pen over two fingers until it settled into his palm. “And then what?”
    “And then I disappear. Tahiti, Grand Cayman.”
    “I’d find you.”
    “So what?” She shrugged. “What could you do? The money would already be in a Swiss bank account.”
    He braced one hand against the desk and moved the other to the back of her chair, bending slightly over. “Then I’d ask you, politely, for the number.”
    She was blocked by the V of his arms. It wasunnerving, but also exciting. He emanated strength, power and raw virility.
    “And if I refuse to tell you?” she challenged, voice growing breathy.
    “I’d stop being polite.”
    “What? You’d threaten to break my legs?”
    He smiled and leaned closer. Self-preservation told her to shrink away, but the chair back kept her in place. His sweet breath puffed against her skin. “Violence? I don’t think so. But there are other ways to be persuasive.”
    She struggled for a tone of disbelief. “What? You kiss me and I swoon?”
    His grin widened. “Maybe. Let’s try it.”
    And before she could react, he’d swooped in toward her. She gasped as his smooth lips settled on hers. They were warm and firm, and