The Rancher Takes A Bride (The Burnett Brides Book 1)

"And though it's probably a big disappointment for you, I'm not trying to tempt, seduce, or entice you. Just let me go."
    The gall of the woman. She was going to stand right there and lie to him. Blatantly disagree with him after she had kissed him. She had bewitched him from the moment they met!
    "Yes, you are. Look at you—you're a tempting vixen. You're always there with that twinkle in your eye and a smile on your lips, bustling around the room like a—like a—hussy!"
    Damn! He'd lost his temper after all, after he'd promised himself he wouldn't let her get to him. It seemed that no matter what he did, invariably she had a knack for getting him riled.
    "How dare you call me a hussy!" She took a deep breath, the buttons on her shirt almost exploding. "That twinkle is not seduction, it's outrage. You big lout! And you don't even know the difference."
    "No decent woman would kiss me like that."
    "Your definition of a decent woman lives in a nunnery, hasn't had to work for a living, and couldn't take care of a dog, let alone herself. And her kisses would be boring."
    He took a deep breath. That hurt! So he wanted an innocent, a woman who lived by the rules—his rules—and depended on him. What was wrong with that?
    They were practically screaming at one another, and still the urge to grab her and kiss her was getting stronger and stronger. He wanted to kiss her until she was dazed, breathless, and, with luck, speechless.
    But he couldn't. "Look. Just leave me alone. I don't want to get mixed up with a gal like you."
    "What makes you think I want to be involved with you? I can be packed within five minutes and ready to leave. We can pretend we never met and this never happened."
    There was no way he was going to let her go. He couldn't just let her walk out of his life. Not yet.
    "You know the answer to that riddle. Give me the ring back, and I'll take you into town tonight."
    " Quel abruti ," she said, with a toss of her hair. "I'm sick of arguing that belabored point. I'm not wasting my breath."
    She turned her back on him and strolled toward the stairs as if she were a queen and he was one of her subjects. What did she mean, she wasn't going to argue that one anymore? If she were innocent, she'd defend herself, right?
    "Come back here. We're not through talking about this."
    "Then talk till you're blue in the face, but I'm through. Good night, Travis."
    It was all Travis could do to watch her walk away. The urge to go after her and kiss her until she became pliant and hot in his arms was still strong, but he resisted. But how much longer could he withstand her tempting wiles? And did he really want to?
    ***
    The sound of the dogs barking, sounding the alarm, woke Travis from a fitful sleep. His feet hit the cold floor, and he reached for his trousers and his six- shooter. His first thought was that Desirée was escaping, and he sprinted for the closed bedroom door, tucking his shirt into his pants as he went. Yanking it open, he rushed across the hall. In his haste, he pushed her door open. The wooden portal slammed against the wall.
    Desirée sat straight up in bed, her long mahogany hair streaming wildly about her face. Oh God, she was beautiful.
    "What's wrong?" she asked.
    A sleep-tousled Desirée was almost too much for his barely held-in-check sensuality. She looked so innocent with her hair hanging untamed about her face, her nightgown falling off one silken shoulder. The urge to throw caution out the window and crawl into her bed was strong.
    "Nothing," he said and felt like a fool for interrupting her sleep. "Sorry to have awakened you."
    "You come crashing into my bedroom in the wee hours of the morning and expect me to go back to sleep?"
    He ignored her comment, knowing he'd have said even more if the situation were reversed.
    "Just stay in your room." The sound of the dogs growling sent him rushing down the stairs, his gun in his hand, leaving a very sexy Desirée to her own conclusions.
    He reached the bottom of the stairs and hurried to the window. He peered out into the inky blackness. The dogs were standing in the yard, growling at a Negro man on horseback.
    Several of his cowhands, rifles in hand, were approaching the man. Travis stepped out onto the porch.
    "Who are you? What do you want?" he called into the night.
    The man threw his leg over the saddle and slid from his horse. His feet hit the ground and Travis's men raised their rifles.
    "I ..." The click of hammers being pulled back gave