Her island nights are heating up!

Losing her luggage was Jimi Calloway’s first clue that her friend’s Hawaiian destination wedding would be a nightmare. The fact that it’s at a ranch instead of on the beach and she’ll be “glamping”? It’s officially the Vacation from Hell. Until this city girl gets a glimpse of her smokin’-hot cowboy guide. Suddenly this vacation is looking up…

Sure, Jimi’s designer wardrobe is lost somewhere over the ocean, but she’s too busy learning just how incredible—and incredibly wicked—“roughing it” with the sexy, rugged Dallas Wilde can be to care. Besides, it’s only a vacation fling… Only, no one warned Jimi how easy it was to fall for a cowboy in paradise.

This filly was going to be a wild ride…

Everything in Dallas wanted to resist Jimi, but as he stared down into her upturned eyes, he saw something in them. Passion. Excitement. Vulnerability. And something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but he needed to find out what it was. Screw his rules. He’d rather be screwing her.

Jimi looked up at him and laughed, a deep, seductive sound that flowed under his skin, running like hot lava about to erupt.

“Anything to hog-tie and get you into bed, cowboy.”

“No beds here—not fancy ones anyway. Just plain old cots.”

She glanced at the cot and then back at him with a sexy grin. “I’m flexible.”

“Now, that leaves room for interpretation, doesn’t it?”

He continued to stare into her eyes as he lowered his face to hers. He lost himself in the feel of her. The taste of her lips on his and the sweet scent of her that seemed to surround him.

How many times had they kissed today? For strangers, they were doing pretty damn good.

And he wasn’t about to waste any time with her.

Aloha, Dear Reader,

We’re back in Hawaii! This time with a story of two completely opposite people. Jimi and Dallas come from very different backgrounds, or do they? How on earth will these night-and-day lovers ever make it work? Funny how a holiday romance can make you second-guess everything you hold most dear.

Hawaii is wonderful and I’m thrilled it is a setting for another story. This time we’re on the Big Island. You’ll visit numerous places along the way as Jimi and Dallas start their whirlwind love affair. But can they work out their differences? What about when the past is dredged up for Dallas and he has to make a choice? Oh, it’s all so exciting! And Grant and Lana, from A Taste of Paradise, show up for a visit, too.

I hope you enjoy your trip back to the island and fall in love with Jimi and Dallas as much as I did. Their chemistry is smoking hot, and no amount of rain from a hurricane can dampen their flames.

Mahalo!

Shana

A Cowboy in Paradise

Shana Gray

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SHANA GRAY is a contemporary and erotic romance author. First published in 2010, Shana has written for Harlequin, Headline Eternal Romance, Random House Loveswept, Sybarite Seductions, Lyrical Press (now Kensington) and Ellora’s Cave. Her scorching stories range from quickie length to longer romance novels. Her passion is to enjoy life. She loves to travel and see the world, be with family and friends, and experience the beauty that surrounds us. Many of her experiences find their way into her books. Visit her online at shanagray.com or at Twitter.com/shanagray_ and on Facebook.

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Acknowledgments

Page Lambert and Amy Wight for helping me find just the right Western word.

Lisa Gibson Brijeski for being a great beta reader.

Deb Markanton for all the Hawaii info and making me drool with the photos. She’s also a fabulous sounding board.

And thank you to the staff at the Four Seasons Resort Hualalai, Big Island, Hawaii, for your help.

Jenny Bullough for sparking an idea that found its way into this story.

Dedication

To my dad, Henry. He read A Taste of Paradise and I wish he was still here to read A Cowboy in Paradise. He passed away July 23, 2016, and has found his own ever-after paradise with Mom. Love you both always, xoxox.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Extract

Copyright

1

JIMI CALLOWAY COULDN’T comprehend a destination wedding in Hawaii that wasn’t on a beach. The wedding was inland. On a ranch! No beach in sight. Her words echoed in her ears. Please just take care of the arrangements. Tell me when I have to be at the airport, she’d told Jose, her assistant, when the invitation had arrived a couple of months ago. Now she wished she’d not been so damn preoccupied with the finishing touches to her first commissioned gown for the Oscars and paid more attention to the finer details of this event.

Jimi sweated under the hot Hawaiian sun. Raising her face to the sky, she closed her eyes and absorbed the sun’s energy. It was a whole lot better than dreary, gray and cold New York City. She got bumped from behind and nearly toppled off her Christian Louboutins.

“Oh, pardon me,” Jimi said, and scampered not to sprawl into the dirt.

“My apologies.” A heavyset man in a straw hat and tropical flowered shirt steadied her by grabbing hold of her elbow.

Jimi gently pulled from his grasp. “It’s okay. No problem,” she said, smiling at him.

She glanced down at her Chanel dress. It had held up pretty well until now, after the twelve-hour flight and the bus ride from the airport to this Hawaiian ranch. She swept her hand over the fabric—covered in dust and travel wrinkled—finally giving up when her sweaty palms smudged the dirt. Shit, her hair would be 1980s huge in this humidity. Trying to blow the damp tendrils out of her eyes, she watched the luxury coach drive away, stranding her in the boonies of the Big Island. She’d had enough of the farm life growing up on a commune. Jimi shivered—a time she didn’t particularly want to remember.

And to top it all off, her suitcase was lost. Panic began to set in. How would she face the day without the suitcase that housed her full armor of makeup, clothing and essentials? A habit she’d started years ago, she couldn’t recall the last time she’d gone without makeup. Why hadn’t Diana chosen the Four Seasons to have her wedding instead of here? Jimi swung her gaze back to the lady ranch hand who had delivered the upsetting news about her suitcase. Out of habit, she eyed the young woman all decked out in cowgirl clothes. The cowgirl looked at Jimi with clear gray eyes and confidence. Jimi bet she didn’t have a worry in the world. She seemed so amazingly comfortable that Jimi almost envied her. The woman shifted her feet and spurs jangled in the dust. Jimi glanced down at the impressively tooled creations.

“Wow, I love your cowboy boots.”

“Thank you.”

They were great boots, with turquoise leather inlay and stitching. Jimi looked up and met the young woman’s eyes, doing her best to not let aggravation over her lost bag ruin the day.

“I’m really sorry about your suitcase.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m just thrown a little off-kilter by all this,” Jimi admitted.

“I understand, but I’m sure it will arrive soon. My name is Larson and I’ll definitely keep an eye out for your bag.”

Jimi nodded, trying not to let her disappointment show. She’d been looking forward to unwinding in Hawaii after the wedding. It was a treasured bit of time between moments of chaos. She so needed to decompress. Vacation time that had been almost impossible to carve out of her busy schedule, but she managed and had lived for these precious weeks in Hawaii. Twenty-one days of sleeping in, relaxing in a cabana by the pool or beach, spa treatments and hopefully a bit of man time.

She’d been without a man’s touch for far too long and desperately needed some attention from the male species. She’d been so busy and the promise to design Diana’s dress was fit it in between the other orders. It was a beautiful creation.

Diana’s dress! It was lost over the Pacific. In her suitcase. How would she ever explain this to her friend?

“Aloha, folks! Welcome to Broken Creek Guest Ranch!”

Jimi spun around, startled by the loud voice, which resonated in her chest like a loud bass drum. Deep, masculine and surprisingly seductive, it held a mild twang that completely caught her attention. Lost bags, Diana’s dress and wrong destination momentarily forgotten, Jimi sucked in a breath as she pinned her eyes on the owner of said voice. Struck dumb, she hadn’t expected to see such a hot cowboy. But of course there would be cowboys, right alongside cows, horses, flies and shit—a crazy mix next to the tropical foliage, beautiful blue skies and gorgeous flowers.

Hello, Hawaiian Hottie!

Jimi couldn’t stop staring at the man standing on the front porch of the rustic-looking building. His head almost brushed the overhang he was so tall. She’d never been so drawn at first glance to a man before; he oozed a dangerous sexuality that reached across the dusty ground and lit her like a sparkler. He. Was. Gorgeous. It was like he snagged her with a lasso and yanked it tight. Jimi caught her breath and placed her hand over her heart as it tripped into double time.

This Hawaiian cowboy was large, muscled and tanned. He had it all going on. She smiled when she noticed the collar of his Western-style shirt. The pattern on the fabric was a ring of deep red hibiscus flowers. Only here could he get away with that. Her mind tumbled over itself as she considered ways she might be able to get this devilishly sexy cowboy on his own. Had a silver lining just appeared on the clouds of doom?

Jimi crossed her arms and hugged herself to keep from trembling, unable to drag her gaze away from him. She wasn’t opposed to a holiday fling—preferably at a five-star hotel with butlers, vintage wine and gourmet dining and not on a ranch. Finally being able to afford the finer things, she’d become accustomed to them. Something told her this smoking-hot cowboy would transplant well and be a sweet distraction. As long as he showered.

She nodded to herself. She’d be able to make do for a short time without her bag. Seeing this delectable male specimen made her realize how travel weary she must look. The urge to step behind the cowgirl to hide herself made her shuffle backward without looking away from him.

His gaze swung through the crowd as he continued with his welcome. Then his attention fell on her. Jimi’s feet froze and she was rooted to the spot—as if the dirt reached up and grabbed her ankles. Good Lord, he was too gorgeous for words. All Jimi’s thoughts fled when a big, wide smile curved on his tanned face. He was clean shaven, but his dark hair was long, ruffling over his shoulders. Her belly fluttered—something she’d not experienced in...oh, ever. Unable to see his eyes, shadowed by the brim of his hat, made him all that much more enigmatic. She wanted him. Bad.

Her blood rushed and her arousal for him nearly made her swoon. She held her breath, enjoying the rare sensation as desire swept through her. The sun came out from behind a cloud, and Jimi raised her hand to shield her eyes from the glare so she could see him.

He seemed to be looking directly at her and she smiled. Did he smile at her? His gaze lingered a little bit and then moved on. The break in their connection was surprisingly disappointing.

“There’s some grub waiting for you in the dining room, and once y’all fill your bellies the luggage will be in the change rooms.”

He pointed and she turned to the beautiful log building with paned windows and a wide front porch. Rocking chairs sat at the ready and there were even hitching posts and water troughs. Just like in classic Western movies. “There you can get on your riding gear while your horses are saddled and then we’ll make our way—”

“Um, excuse me.” Jimi raised her hand and waggled her fingers. “Did you say horses?” she blurted.

The cowboy placed a booted foot on the mounting block. Yes, she’d ridden and knew the lingo. She’d been a fairly decent rider, having grown up with horses on the commune, but fashion and makeup were her escape from that into a new and exciting world. Far from her impoverished growing up. His smile widened and he pushed his hat back on his forehead with his thumb. He leaned over and rested his forearm on his knee. She watched every move he made. Utterly mesmerized. His jeans tightened nicely over his thighs and hips. A flash of silver at his waist drew her attention to the monstrosity of a belt buckle and her gaze drifted lower until she realized she was gaping at his—

“You got that right, ma’am.”

Jimi pulled her gaze away from his tempting bulge to his face and felt a flush grow on her cheeks. Had he caught her staring at his very manly package? She nearly groaned at the possibility and glanced around feeling uncomfortable that everyone was now staring at her like she’d grown a second head. She braced herself, expecting laughter to explode around her. Seemed it didn’t matter how old you were—the insecurities from childhood could rush back at the most inopportune moment.

Squaring her shoulders, Jimi turned back to the cowboy. “I’m sorry, but I’m here for the McCain Scott wedding?”

“You’re in the right place.”

Her heart sank. “But this is for a destination wedding.” Jimi waved her hand, indicating the miles of meadows beyond the very neat and tidy buildings. “There’s n-no beach.” She felt her cheeks flush hotter at the scattered laughter behind her. She wished the ground would break open and swallow her up.

“We have a beach on the property, ma’am. It’s just a long way away from here.” Not only was his drawl sexy and deep, she heard a compassion in his voice that made her feel a tiny bit better.

“S-so, no beach wedding?” she said, and immediately wished she’d not asked the inane question which, of course, she already knew the answer to.

He shook his head and smiled again at her. He was totally charming and sincere, giving no hint he was making fun of her. Jimi relaxed somewhat at his calm tone. “Not right now, no.”

She clamped her mouth shut, determined not to ask any more dumb questions. God, she’d really made a mess of things. If only she’d handled the arrangements herself, not passing them off. All she knew was the wedding was in Hawaii, with most arrangements made by the bride and groom. Guests provided their details, booked their own flights and hotel for after the wedding, with the suggestion of staying at the Four Seasons.

“In about an hour we’ll ride up to the camp. Your luggage will be in the tents when you get there.” He stood and hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans. “Enjoy your meal and we’ll gather at the barn across the yard.”

Ride, tents? Jimi nearly screeched with building frustration but bit her lip. Panicked, she looked around at the other guests, clearly the only one who thought this whole trip to a Hawaiian ranch was a bad idea. The silver lining of only moments before had suddenly turned very dark and stormy.

She wanted to bolt right back down the road they’d just driven up but, seeing the dust settle from the long-gone bus, knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Desperation overwhelmed her and she had to fight back the dread starting to set in. When tears sprang to her eyes, she was horrified. Jimi blinked furiously to stop any tear leakage that would further embarrass her not to mention smudge her mascara. She had to be here, though, for Diana.

Jimi straightened her back and drew in a shaky breath. She had no idea how she was going to face Diana or make do without any clothes, toiletries and the like. Somehow, she’d just have to man up. Surely there would be some kind of shop here where she could get the basics until her bag arrived. Fuck.

* * *

DALLAS WAS AT home in the saddle, and he was happy with the posse of wedding guests riding behind him. He’d never get enough of seeing all the excited faces when they stepped off the bus. It didn’t matter how many years he’d been doing this, it never got old. Sharing his love of Hawaii, his ranch and all aspects of it was what he’d been born for. The Wilde family had been running this spread for over a century. Dallas looked at it as being a custodian of the land, honoring it as best he could. A caretaker. He was proud of his heritage and he’d encouraged his father and siblings to open their ranch to the public, to share with others. He hadn’t been wrong and their business of eco-camping had really taken flight. Only this trip wasn’t eco-camping. It was glamping. He shook his head ruefully. Glamping, of all things!

He thought of the blonde woman. She didn’t fit the normal Broken Creek guest profile. When he’d first laid eyes on her he’d nearly forgotten his memorized speech. The wind had blown her hair across her face and she’d swept it away with slender fingers. Elegance had oozed from her and he could hardly imagine her holidaying at a ranch let alone riding a horse. That aside, he’d checked her out, from the tip of her sunny blond head, down her lean and fit body to her long and shapely legs, which he’d love to have wrapped around his hips.

No way would she be able to sit a horse in that tight sheath of a dress. But, Lord, he appreciated how fine she looked in it. And just like that he had a hankering to see that body naked. His groin tightened imagining her standing before him with nothing on but those killer shoes. He’d never seen such a razor heel and could almost feel the sharp stab of them in his ass as if she were under him as he banged her.

Those shoes were the damned sexiest things he’d seen in the longest time and a complete contradiction to the boots and runners on the other ladies around her. All guests were told to bring shoes or boots with heels. This siren had certainly got that wrong in such a right way, and he knew he had to defuse this growing spark of interest. She looked every bit the prima donna.

And he made a point of keeping the divas at a good distance.

But, still, this one mystified him. She oozed a sensuality that made his cock sit up and take notice and elegance he shied from. A poor fit for the likes of him and totally not suitable for a rough-and-tumble interlude. Now the sensuality part...that was a whole other kettle of fish. She had a frosty exterior that made him wonder if in bed she’d be just as chilly or as sizzling hot as the Hawaiian sun. Dallas felt a flash of disappointment that he wouldn’t be finding out the answer to that.

Best he steer clear of this tempting woman, even though every cell in his body wanted to try to melt this glacial filly. She spelled high maintenance and was not worth the trouble. Not his type. At. All. But, shit, he wanted a taste of her.

A shout from behind snapped him out of the rabbit hole he’d just fallen down. Dallas twisted in his saddle, scanned down the line of riders to make sure everyone was still doing fine. The wranglers would follow up the rear, so he wasn’t too worried about losing anyone. But having forty guests was a little out of his comfort zone. Matt, the groom, was an old university friend. It surprised the hell out of him that his fiancée had agreed to a ranch wedding. He’d never met her but had heard stories about her. Girls’ weekend away in Vegas. Jetting off to Bahamas and Paris. So this didn’t really fit the persona he’d assumed for her.

Dallas huffed to himself, still not convinced marriage was the right thing to do. At least for him. Especially after being jilted at the altar. No sirree. Maybe, he reckoned, if kids were involved. But it seemed rather pointless to enter into a commitment that likely would bust up before long. He could count on one hand the number of marriages that had gone past the three-year mark. Anyway, he’d do whatever it took to make Matt and Diana’s wedding day dreams come true. Even if he didn’t believe in happily-ever-after. Women wanted to change a man to their liking, not accept him for who he was. Unlike men, who only want women to accept them for who they are and not try to change them.

“Another half hour and we’ll be there,” Dallas shouted, and bit back a smile at the chorus of groans.

Diana was insistent about comfort for the guests. Which meant he had to upscale all the prospector tents to a more glamping style. He shook his head, not understanding that at all.

The grove of trees beyond a wide, rolling meadow wasn’t far-off. He liked it there with the pretty waterfall ringed by ancient and craggy lava rock. He’d chosen it especially for the camp as it was a protected location should extreme weather blow in. He sighed and wished they were there already so he could get the group settled and let the wedding planner take over.

Dallas patted Sweeny’s neck. “I’ll take you over a group of uncomfortable wedding guests any day.” As if the horse knew what he said, Sweeny tossed her head, nickered in agreement and pranced sideways like they were the hottest couple in town. He chuckled and let her have her little moment of play. He’d be retiring her after this trip and breeding her.

He ran his fingers through her mane and hoped that she’d throw a good foal that would mature into a horse just as fine as she. Unlike the mare he was waiting on to foal anytime now. She was a Thoroughbred and covered by American Prince, a Triple Crown winner and Dallas’s step into the racing world on the mainland. He was determined to give it a try, regardless of the chiding remarks his siblings made. He could handle it, mostly by ignoring them. It would take dedication and money to make it a go, money he’d worked hard to save. He didn’t know a woman who wanted anything to do with the racing world. Fine thing, too, since he didn’t need any added complications.

He hadn’t entertained the idea of a committed relationship since...well, he’d rather not think of her. She’d soured him. Long since over her now, he’d learned a valuable lesson from that experience. Women were selfish creatures and told you what you wanted to hear before snagging you. Then expected you to put their wants and needs first. He hadn’t met a woman yet who was willing to compromise and be a true partner. Sure, he’d dated, had a few flings and been hounded, too, but he was a confirmed bachelor, and he was pretty sure there was no woman who could make him consider otherwise.

Dallas looked up at the sky. Sunset wasn’t too far off and he’d hoped to have all the guests bedded down in time for them to watch from Sunset Ridge while the BBQ was prepared. No luau tonight—they were saving that for the wedding feast. Horsetail clouds winged in the sky, foretelling a change in weather. He furrowed his brows. Nothing significant had shown up on the radar last he checked, but that could change at the drop of a hat here on the island. The sky spoke to him better than any sort of technology. And it was telling him a different story. Storm coming.

Stress knotted at the back of his neck, but he refused to consider the possibility of weather ruining the wedding trip. He wouldn’t say anything to the happy couple yet. Tomorrow was a riding trip to the beach, which made him think of the blonde woman—and his cock told him it was just as eager to see her prancing on the sand in a bikini as he was—then the wedding party rehearsal in the evening. The next day a wedding breakfast for everyone, and the ceremony in the afternoon with an evening luau only to ride back down the following day. Seemed like a colossal waste of time to him, but it was revenue in the bank for them.

He pulled Sweeny up in front of the river and called to the riders behind him. “This is our last crossing, folks. Remember to keep moving through the water and don’t let your horse get his head down.”

Sweeny stepped into the water with no need for Dallas to cluck her. She knew the drill. The water ran belly deep under the horses, slow moving and crystal clear. He hoped they didn’t get surprised by any rain over the next three days; otherwise, it would make things mighty difficult.

2

JIMI DID HER best to keep calm even if she was roaring inside with frustration. She chewed on her finger and stared at the clothes generously donated by the other guests. She truly was thankful and would make sure she said so later. Looking forlornly around the tent that would be hers for the next three nights, Jimi fought back tears and breathed deeply. She had no idea what Diana was thinking, having a wedding here. Jimi hadn’t been in a tent since she’d left the commune when she was of age.

Sorting through the clothes, she picked out a shirt and jeans that looked like they might fit. The plaid shirt and jeans would be way too big. The strip of baling twine would have to work as a belt. Holy hell, she felt like Elly May Clampett, and might as well just put her hair up in pigtails.

She opened her purse and fingered her compact, afraid to look at herself. But she did and gasped. How would she ever get through this week without her makeup kit, moisturizer and hair products? But it wasn’t the end of the world, right? She’d been an earthy girl before, and she could give it a whirl again.

Jimi stared wistfully at her Louboutins, tossed aside when she’d kicked them off. They certainly looked out of place on the rustic wooden floor.

She shrugged off her dress, now almost beyond saving, and stood in her bra and panties. Jimi sighed as the fresh breeze blew through the tent, cooling her heated skin. The air smelled wonderful. Clean, crisp, fragrant and with a tinge of coolness that was a relief from the heat. She almost felt her stress and upset seeping out of her body, slowly rolling down her legs, over her feet and into the floor. Almost as if the ground sucked the negative energy out of her. She eyed the boots she’d been given, not wanting to put them on. It felt too good going barefoot, and she wiggled her toes when a rush of childhood memories came at her. Jimi distracted herself, refusing to remember.

A rustle outside the tent made her jump and she spun around. Jimi’s heart nearly burst out of her chest when she saw standing at her tent opening the drop-dead-sexy cowboy from earlier. She couldn’t read the expression on his face, but his mouth seemed to tighten and his eyes were heavy with an intensity that made her belly clench. He didn’t look away from her. Instead, he met her gaze, then looked her up and down. More than once. She felt the heat in his stare as if he’d branded her. His searing look sent her body into turmoil, and her knees wobbled.

Jimi froze. It wasn’t that she couldn’t move—she didn’t want to. She tingled under his hooded gaze, feeling vulnerable, exposed and, yes, terribly excited. If she moved she might break this magically erotic moment. There was something about this man that made her want to throw caution to the wind.

Jimi wanted to say something witty and charming, enticing, but found her mouth suddenly dry and her tongue stuck to the back of her teeth. “Ah...” She cleared her throat. “Um...”

He touched his fingers to his hat and nodded. “I apologize, ma’am.” His deep voice did all sorts of naughty sensual teasing to her senses. She wanted him to keep talking, this cowboy who had completely caught her in his ropes.

Jimi shook her head and stepped toward him, totally forgetting she was close to naked. “It’s fi—”

She nearly stumbled when he walked toward her tent and placed a foot on the step in front of the raised floor. Then he filled the opening. Was he coming in? Oh, God, please do! He leaned in and reached to the side, yanking on a strap that released the tent flap she’d totally forgotten to drop down. He didn’t let it fall right away, holding it for a few moments, his eyes never leaving hers.

Jimi melted. She felt her nipples rise against the lacy material of her bra, sending all sorts of wake-up signals straight down to her clitoris. She didn’t give one whit that his eyes flickered down to her breasts before snaring hers again. Suddenly she wanted this man with a yearning that made her heart quicken.

The silence stretched. He seemed to loom bigger in the doorway, dwarfing everything else around him. Jimi hadn’t realized just how large and muscled he was when he’d spoken earlier. Now, close enough for her to take only a few steps and be able to fall into his arms, she trembled as his presence filled the little tent. Lord, she wanted to be wrapped in the strength of those big, powerful arms. The animal magnetism of this man had her ready to step off her very straight, narrow path and fall right into the tangle of the dark jungle.

“Ma’am. Remember to close the tent, keep unwanted critters out.” And he gave her a crooked smile.

Then he dropped the tent flap and was gone, leaving her breathless and feeling empty. Jimi didn’t move, now feeling utterly foolish, realizing she’d been in sight for anyone to see had they walked by her tent. Plus, she’d just stood there, close to naked in front of a strange, albeit very sexy, man. What must he think? She quickly pulled on the plaid shirt. Embarrassment rushed through her, followed by anger that she’d been placed in this frustratingly dumb situation in the first place.

* * *

DALLAS COULDN’T BELIEVE his eyes. A vision like that wasn’t something you saw every day. He’d grown used to the daily ritual of horses, ranch hands and mountains. In all the years he’d been running the guest ranch, never had he walked by a tent to see a near naked and fantastically gorgeous woman. He’d watched her for only a few moments. Just long enough for his cock to sit up and take notice, and make him feel like a Peeping Tom. Hell, could you blame a man? Standing in her lacy and very sheer ivory bra and panties for all the world to see was totally unexpected. He was captivated.

He couldn’t look away from her, like a lioness ready to pounce. Her blond curls fell wild around her shoulders and down her back. His fingers twitched with the urge to bury his fingers in the silky strands. Her almost virginal image oozed an untamed sexuality that reached deep down inside and grabbed him by the balls. Her smoking-hot body was anything but virginal—made for pleasure. And he’d be at the front of the line if given the opportunity. Shit, hadn’t he told himself she was untouchable and for a few very good reasons? One being a risky business fraternizing with guests. It took a few minutes to gather his wits before he could move and react in a gentlemanly fashion. Dropping the tent flap had been his salvation before he’d stalked off to check the horses. A fine excuse to try to rid his mind of the imprint she’d made on it and his dick wanting something that likely would never happen.

Dallas sucked in a breath and knew it was no use. The image of her would be seared into his memory for the rest of his days. He also knew the only way he stood a chance to get her out of his blood was to bang her. But his gut told him that would only whet his appetite, making him want her more.

He entered the barn and wandered down the center between the horses. Their wide standing stalls either side of him ran the length of the shed row. Dallas had had the structure built a few years back to house up to fifty horses and storage for a couple hundred bales of hay. The peaked roof and no sides kept the weather and sun out, but the breeze from the ocean flowed freely. He’d also had storm shutters built into the roof that could be dropped down easily. He hoped like hell they wouldn’t be needed on this trip. All the horses faced in, so it was easy to feed and water them.

“Hey, boss. We’re all set,” John said, tossing a few more flakes of hay into the last couple of stalls. He’d finished bedding down the horses for the night.

Dallas rechecked the ties and rubbed the forehead of every horse he walked by on his way to John. He loved the comforting sounds of their contented munching and their earthy scent. He loved everything about horses.

“Good job. Everything for the wedding all ready?”

“I guess so. I’m steering clear of all that hullabaloo. It’s chaos, I tell ya, and I want no part of it.”

Dallas laughed and nodded. “I’m with you there, buddy. Listen, keep it all tight, though. I have a feeling we’ll be getting some rain.”

John walked out from under the gabled roof and looked to the sky. “Ya think? Only thing that showed up on radar was about three hundred miles offshore, tropical-storm status but not heading this way.”

Dallas nodded. “Still, keep an eye on the sky. A little bit of rain won’t hurt anybody, but if that storm shifts and intensifies we’ll be stuck up here.”

John grunted his agreement as he walked away and said over his shoulder, “Time to get that barbecue fired up. Oh, hey, Tucker wanted me to tell you he was heading up.”

Dallas nodded. His brother usually joined them, but wasn’t sure if he’d be on island soon enough. He was also friends with Matt, and did his damnedest to get chickenshit Matt to surf. Now Diana had put a complete stop to that activity, saying it was far too dangerous. Dallas shook his head and was glad he’d managed to sidestep any long-term commitments where women were concerned.

He lingered with the horses. They were his spirit animal and he felt best when hanging with them. He was here as a wedding guest as well, not just as a boss or ranch owner, but it was hard to not oversee everything. All these people up here were his responsibility in the long run and he wanted them to have the best time in order for them to spread the word about Broken Creek and bring in new business.

“Excuse me.”

Dallas paused, his hand on the forehead of the gray gelding. Both he and the horse turned in unison toward the female voice.

Dallas sensed who it was. His heart thumped in his chest like a smitten boy, which he was none too happy about. The woman who only moments before had stood close to naked in her tent walked toward him, her fingers tucked into her jeans front pocket. They were way too big for her, and so was the plaid shirt. He noticed she had bare feet. He raised his eyebrows, not expecting to see bare toes. But he liked it—maybe she wasn’t so high maintenance after all. It definitely made her much more intriguing even though he didn’t want to be intrigued. Or tempted.

Her tits jiggled under the top. Was she still wearing that see-through bra? Even with the baggy jeans and baler twine for a belt, her curves left little to the imagination. Her hips moved with an enticing sway that made him want to grab them and haul her up tight to him. Heat boiled down into his balls and he shifted his feet.

“Yes, hello.” It was about all he could muster up with the images of her luscious body still seared into his brain.

She cocked her thumb behind her and gave him a direct look. “Um, back there. I—”

“Don’t worry.” Dallas shook his head, not wanting her to feel...what? Bad. Uncomfortable. Exposed. Yet he was so glad he’d walked by to get that visual treat. He’d been celibate far too long.

“I’m not worried. It’s just that, well, if you liked what you saw, why didn’t you just come inside?”

She was direct.

He narrowed his eyes and searched her face. Did she want a fling? Weren’t wedding hookups commonplace? If she was offering, he decided he didn’t want to let her down. That wasn’t gentlemanly, right? But then who said he was a gentleman. He’d been told as much by... He refused to finish that thought and pressed his lips together. Ranch rules. His rules. No getting involved with guests. “Well, ma’am—”

“Please don’t call me that. My name is Jimi.” And she smiled at him, a seductive and enchanting curve on her lips that heated his blood. It was like the sun came out and shone down just on her, while everything else faded to black. He was mesmerized, again. Oh yeah, she spelled trouble with a capital T. Perhaps this would be a much more interesting weekend than he’d anticipated. He knew he was about to break all his hard-and-fast rules, which made him angry at himself just as much as it excited him. Something about this chick had his radar humming, and he was obligated to find out why.

“Pleased to meet you, Jimi.” He offered his hand. She took it. Dallas was surprised by the strength of her slender fingers and the sizzle of erotic heat that flashed up his arm. He curled his hand around hers and pulled her ever so slightly closer to him. She didn’t resist.

He looked down at her. She wasn’t short, likely around five-seven, but still much shorter than his six foot two. He liked taller women, and her height was just under his preference. Still, though, he figured they’d fit together perfectly, just like puzzle pieces.

She gazed up at him and goddamn if he didn’t lose his breath. Like Kilauea had erupted inside him. His blood pumped in his veins, hot, thick and achingly slow. He was lost in her eyes, which sparkled like stars twinkling against the indigo canvas of a Hawaiian night, a beautiful blue with tinges of amber and sand in their depths. Her curly hair a halo around her head. Dallas sucked in a breath as desire slipped down his spine and settled in his hips. In the short space of time since this woman had crashed into his life, it was like everything had changed. Something in his world had shifted. All he wanted to do was drag her into his arms, kiss her senseless and crush her to him. Dallas was rocked to the core, never before having had such a powerful reaction to a woman. All because of a smile, the touch of hands and a body he’d like to feed off for days.

3

JIMI STOOD IN front of this mountain of man, staring up at him as he glowered down at her with an intensity that made her shiver. Her mind went nuts with the possibilities of all the good bad things they could do together. Something about this man made her want to be bad. Naughty. While not a prude about sex by any stretch of the imagination, it just wasn’t often that her body made the decision before her brain did.

His calm silence couldn’t hide the passion she saw brewing in his eyes. She wondered if he would be just as intense and quiet if they fucked. Yes, that was how she’d look at it. Not making love, no way. Love was something she’d given up on a long time ago. Anyone she’d ever loved had left her. But that hadn’t stopped her from searching for it—God, how she’d searched—and in all the wrong places, too. To distance herself from the unorthodox way she was raised had been her driving force. She’d navigated through the concrete jungle of New York City’s fashion world and made it. At times, though, her past came back to haunt her, like it seemed to be doing here, today. So many little reminders. It was unsettling.

She didn’t feel guilty for seeking out men she could influence, manage to her liking. It meant she didn’t have to let her guard down. It was purely physical. No entanglements. No talks of the future. Just the present. She’d learned long ago that the only person she could trust and count on was herself.

Jimi eyed this bad boy in front of her. He clearly fell into the physical-satisfaction category, and for a moment she wondered if he would be putty in her hands. His gentlemanly nature wasn’t something she was accustomed to and would likely be his weakness.

“What kind of name is Jimi?” His deep and velvety voice captivated her. It held a hint of cowboy twang, which she liked.

“My parents were old hippies, commune types. They had a thing for Jimi Hendrix.”

“Is that so? Then I expect you had the most unusual upbringing.”

Jimi couldn’t believe she’d told him that, and without any thought at all. It just tumbled out of her mouth. Usually she gave a bullshit story that they named her Benjamina and never ever said her parents were hippies. That usually led to all kinds of questions that she refused to answer. But he zeroed right in on what she needed to hide the most. Her upbringing and fallout from it. Surprisingly, he didn’t inquire further or say anything more, and she hoped to quell any future questions.

“To say the least. Something that I try to forget.”

He nodded and glanced down at her feet. “I guess some things are hard to leave behind.”

She furrowed her brows and wondered what he was talking about, until she looked down at her bare toes. No way would she admit he was right. She’d buried her feelings deep where her childhood was concerned, but it seemed some things were hard to shake. “No. It’s something I have most definitely left behind. My suitcase didn’t arrive with me, so I’m at a loss for footwear other than my heels. Which appear to be completely inappropriate for this wedding trip.”

“Ah, you’re the one.”

Jimi furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

“The one with no bags. The one that thought this destination wedding was at a beach. I barely recognized you.”

Now he was making fun of her. She let go of his hand and was struck by the odd emptiness and feeling of distance that replaced the zing she’d felt from him just moments ago. The warmth of his fingers gone, a shiver ran through her even with the Hawaiian heat pressing down on them. She frowned, not liking how off balance he’d suddenly made her feel.

“It was my fault for not paying more attention. The norm for destination weddings is usually on the beach. At a resort. The last thing I’d expect here is a destination wedding on a ranch.” She waved her hand to indicate her surroundings and nearly smacked one of the horses on the nose. The horse snorted and tossed his head, startling Jimi. She jumped and let out a cry when her bare feet landed on sharp stones, making her stumble. She used the opportunity and in that moment decided to go with stepping up her game. So she let herself fall headlong into the cowboy. “Ow.”

She was confident he’d catch her. She expected no less from this gentlemanly cowboy.

“Hey there, whoa.”

She clutched at his arms, trying not to notice the strength under her fingers. At the same time, he wrapped his arms around her. Tight.

Regardless of whether she’d instigated this little event, she really had hurt her foot.

“Oh, my God, it feels like my foot shredded on glass.” Yet the pain in her feet paled with the powerful response she had to him as he gathered her close.

“Exactly why you shouldn’t be trotting around here without shoes on. Regardless if you’re a hipster or not.”

“I’m not a hipster! All right...enough. My feet are crying.” The cowboy swung her into his arms. “Hey! What are you doing?”

“Taking you to fix your foot.”

Jimi halfheartedly struggled in his arms, but the way she fit against his wide chest was far too comfortable. And wasn’t it just where she wanted to be? Her foot was stinging, but the warmth of his body almost had her forgetting about it. “You know I’m quite capable of getting to my tent.”

“I’m sure you are. But I don’t need you leaving the scent of blood everywhere. Besides, the cuts will get full of dirt.”

He took a path behind the rows of tents. She was glad he kept out of sight of other guests, because she already felt stupid enough with her dumb comments earlier. Jimi decided to just enjoy being carried. It wasn’t every day a girl was in strong, muscular arms. She looped her hand behind his neck. His hair tickled her knuckles and she looked up, seeing under the wide brim of his cowboy hat for the first time. She swallowed when he looked down at her. All thought and words vanished under the heat of his gaze. And when he smiled—oh, God, when he smiled—she liquefied inside. What had she been thinking? No way would he ever be putty in her hands. Jimi feared it was she who would be putty in his hands.

He shouldered his way through a tent flap and Jimi glanced around. “This isn’t my tent.”

“I know.” He set her down on a cot that looked surprisingly cozy and was very comfortable.

“Why am I here? I wanted to go to my tent.” She was grappling with her rioting emotions, and being carried by him had thrown her totally off balance.

He pulled a chair in front of her, then turned around to a chest-high cabinet. “Does your tent have the first-aid kit?”

“Oh. I could have washed my foot off well enough,” she argued rather unconvincingly.

“I’m sure you could’ve. But somehow you leapt into my arms, so I figured you wanted me to take care of things.”

“I did not leap into your arms!”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Why did she feel defensive? Right from the minute she’d laid eyes on him hours ago up until now he’d had her completely off-kilter.

“Lift your foot,” he instructed.

She did and watched in fascination as he cradled her heel in his big, tanned hands. He was so gentle as he tended her.

“Is it bad?” If it was, part of her hoped she might have to head back down for stitches. The other part wasn’t so sure. He took off his hat and set it beside her on the bed, so close to her fingers that she touched the brim. A thrill ran through her. It was almost like touching a part of him. Almost.

He raised her foot a little higher and peered underneath. His dark hair appeared longer without his hat, and when he tipped his head, a strand fell across his forehead.

“Nope. Just a little cut. Nothing a Band-Aid and antiseptic won’t take care of.” He looked up at her and she drew in a breath.

He had the most intriguing eyes. Neither was the same color, but a myriad of sea greens in one, and arctic blues in the other. Jimi leaned forward slightly, as if magnetized to him.

“Your eyes.”

“What about them?” He held her foot a little tighter.

“They’re beautiful.”

Jimi was surprised when he burst out laughing. The deep booming sound filled the tent and she blinked. What was so funny?

“They’re just eyes, hemahema.”

“But so unique.”

“I can thank my mother for them.” His smile was wide, and Jimi saw his Hawaiian ancestry in the bold and strong features, dark hair and deeply tanned skin.

“Was she Hawaiian?”

“My grandfather was. Now, let’s get this foot cleaned up.”

“What’s hemahema?” Jimi asked. “You said that a couple minutes ago.”

“Clumsy, awkward.”

“Humph. Nice.”

He chuckled and then spoke in a low voice she could barely hear. “Your clumsiness got you in my arms, though. Didn’t it?”

He glanced at her from under his dark eyebrows and her world tilted. The corner of his mouth lifted on one side and she was enchanted. That simple, seductive glance was full of so many promises. Promises she had every intention of making him keep.

“Yes, it did,” Jimi whispered. “And I don’t even know your name.”

“Shall we keep it a mystery?”

Jimi gave him a seductive smile. “That would make it very interesting.”

He looked back at her foot. Jimi drew in a soft breath as he carefully cleaned the cut, applied ointment and then a bandage before glancing at her. Jimi’s heart fluttered when he smiled, tightening his fingers a little more on her foot.

“All done. You’ll live.”

Sensing the impending end to their intimate moment, Jimi decided it was time to make her move. She slid forward and, not breaking eye contact with him, reached out and curled her fingers around his neck. His muscles under her fingers were hard and his skin warm. As if her fingers fused to him and captured his energy, their connection crackled with electricity. He seemed to resist against the pressure of her hand. Jimi was insistent. When she pulled him toward her, she saw a myriad of emotions race across his face, and for a moment she thought he would pull away. But he didn’t and gave her that crooked smile again. Her gaze dropped to his lips. His enticing and oh-so-kissable lips. Lips she wanted to taste, feel, explore.

When he dropped to his knees on the floor in front of her, Jimi gasped. He curled his fingers around her ankles and pulled her closer, holding her ankles behind him before letting go. Jimi hooked them together around his hips and shivered as he ran his hands over her calves, along her thighs, and grabbed her waist. Jimi wiggled to reduce the distance between them. The urgency to feel him next to her had her strung tighter than a drum.

“You’re trembling,” he whispered, and lowered his head so his mouth brushed tantalizingly close to her earlobe.

“I—I know.” Jimi could barely form words, he had her so spun.

“I like that.” His lips pressed in the curve of her neck.

“Oh, you’re killing me.”

She moaned as his lips tickled along her neck, his breath warming her skin until she thought she might melt right into him. He was everything male. His essence enveloped her and she craved more of him. A totally random thought flitted through her brain. I’m made for him. Then it was gone when his hands roamed over her, stealing all coherent thought. One hand went up to the back of her neck, under her hair to swipe it aside, the other down to her butt. She gasped as he pulled her tight, his fingers digging almost painfully into her flesh. But that pain brought such sweet pleasure she wanted more.

Jimi tightened her thighs around his hips, pressing into him, until her breasts were mashed against the unbelievably hard chest. He groaned and she thrilled to the sound. His fingers thrust into her hair, fisting the strands, and the sting in her scalp was another welcome burst of pain that almost kept her grounded.

He pulled her head back gently, forcing her to look at him. Jimi was at an utter loss for words. She wanted him, and he gave every indication he wanted her, the evidence of that pressing hotly between her thighs and only separated by the layer of their jeans. Jimi tipped her hips and sighed when he responded by thrusting into her.

“I can tell you’re going to be all sorts of trouble,” he growled.

“Is that a good or bad thing?” Jimi murmured, not breaking their gaze.

Her heart hammered so hard it hurt. This man—she still didn’t know his name—held her hair tight while his other hand scorched a path from her ass up her side. He hesitated ever so briefly with a gentle caress at the side of her breast before cupping her face, holding her in his large, warm, rough...but so tender hands. She welcomed the control he was taking. Needed him to force her to let go. Her brain shut down when he pulled her head to him and crashed his lips over hers.

* * *

DALLAS TASTED HER as if a starved man. Her lips were soft and deliciously plump. He found her tongue with his, which was his undoing. Heat erupted inside him, flowing through his veins like thick, heavy lava. The sweetness of her mouth made him want more.

Her arms tightened around his neck. Dallas took her face between his hands, holding her firm. No way was he letting this seductress out of his arms just yet. Dallas opened his eyes to watch her, keeping his mouth fused with hers. The strands of her hair twined with his fingers, so palupalu, soft, he wanted to draw the curls over his face. He inhaled, taking in her scent. Fresh and clean, with a hint of flowers. Her eyes were closed, and he lifted his mouth from hers and waited to see if she’d open her eyes. She didn’t, and he decided the eloquent curve of her brow needed to be kissed. Her gold lashes fanned across her pale skin. Never had he seen anything more beautiful. Sexy. And wanton.

Dallas nuzzled her under the sharp arch of her brow. She sighed. His cock swelled when she wiggled closer, tightening her thighs around him. He could easily push her back on his cot. Flick open the buttons of her shirt. Whisk off the jeans and take his pleasure. Pleasure she seemed very willing to provide.

Pleasure he’d be more than willing to reciprocate.

Jimi leaned into his fingers when he teased the buttons open. She trembled and he yearned for her. This strange and beguiling city girl who did not fit into the wilds out here. Or with a man like him. Perhaps that was what made her so much more tantalizing. Why not have a vacation fling? What happened in Kona stayed in Kona. No one need know. It would be over after the wedding. He’d keep it secret, knowing he was breaking his own rules.

A shiver rumbled through his muscles when her fingers tracked across his back, pressing and stroking as if she were trying to imprint him. Then they locked behind his neck and she burrowed against his chest. His hand was trapped between them in the wonderful firm softness of her breasts. Their clothes were in the way and he wanted to rip them off her in this frantic moment of passion. Period. Nothing remotely close to making love. Yet, if he thought of it as lust, an unsettled feeling grew in him.

Dallas pushed it aside. Being with a beautiful, alluring woman with no expectations or ties was just how to lose himself. There was no crime in that.

Jimi sighed as he nibbled the edge of her jaw. Dallas growled in to her and inhaled her wild and exotic scent that was just like his island. He’d learned long ago to seek out those special little places on a woman—it was so worth the extra care—and he found the delicate spot just behind her ear. Jimi’s body went lax in his arms. She ran hands down his back, leaving a trail of heat that spiked into fire when she linked her thumbs through the belt loops and pulled him to her. He settled between her thighs, her heat searing him. Sound dimmed. All he heard was the thumping of his heart and her soft, breathy sighs. Jimi dropped her head back, giving him more access, and he didn’t waste the opportunity to search for her trigger spot, smiling when she shivered as he licked along her collarbone.

Voices pierced his lust haze. He tried to ignore them, but when he recognized the laughter, Dallas swore and sat bolt upright, pushing her away. Regret washed through him at the confusion on Jimi’s face and he wanted to explain but couldn’t. She stood and shoved her hands into the jeans pockets.

She was mad—that was good. It made things easier. He’d been ready to take it just a little too far with her. Now wasn’t the time or the place. He stepped back and tried not to notice her passion-filled gaze, now tinged with anger. Or the way her hair was mussed and the plump pout of her mouth...all beckoning him like a siren, calling him back to her.

“What...?” Her voice was soft and sultry, but he heard anger around the edges.

“You’d better leave.” Dallas did his best to keep his voice unemotional, but he sounded like a bullfrog croaking.

“What happened? I don’t understand.” Yep, she was mad.

Before he could answer, a loud, booming voice from outside the tent announced his brother.

“Dallas, you old dog, are you in there?”

Dallas stepped in front of Jimi to shield her while she fumbled with her shirt buttons. The tent flap was yanked aside and his brother filled the opening.

“Hey, bro! What the frig...” He gave a knowing nod, raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest. “...ahh.”

Jimi stepped around Dallas and he bit back a smile when he saw her lift her chin and shake her head, making her curls flutter around her shoulders like a lioness’s mane. She flickered her gaze to Dallas, but he couldn’t read the expression. It was as if a shutter had closed, hiding the light that had been shining from her only moments before. Strangely, it saddened him. He turned to Tucker and sent him a warning look.

“Excuse me.” Jimi took a step and winced. Dallas reached for her elbow, but she shook him off.

“Don’t let me interrupt things,” Tucker said, his mouth curving up on one side.

“Yeah, yeah, enough of that. Tucker, this is one of our guests. She cut her foot on a stone and I was just doctoring her up.”

“Yes.” Jimi looked down at her foot. “It doesn’t pay to not wear shoes around this godforsaken place. What a big mistake it was coming here.” Without a second look, she pushed past both the men and sailed out the tent opening.

They watched her go and remained silent for a few seconds. Tucker turned to Dallas and burst out laughing.

“What the hell was that all about?”

Dallas thinned his lips and glared at his brother. Ever the loud one with no tact. “Nothing,” Dallas snapped. The last thing he wanted to do was explain his actions to his brother. The less he knew the better, and no way would he let on what had almost happened.

“Well, bro, it certainly didn’t look like nothing to me.”

Dallas turned his back on him and grabbed the first-aid paraphernalia, holding it to Tucker as proof, then put it back where it belonged.

Dallas ushered Tucker to the tent opening. Time for him to leave. “Wasn’t sure you’d actually show.”

“You know me—I’m like a bad penny. Always turning up.”

“You got that right. When you’re needed, you’re not here. When you’re not needed, you turn up and usually with complications.” Dallas followed Tucker from the tent. “So what brings you up here? Did you drive or ride?”

“Drove. I need to make myself scarce.”

Anxiety squeezed Dallas’s chest. “And you have to do that...why?” He’d had about enough of bailing his younger brother out of all the trouble he was good at getting himself into. Did he really want to know what he’d done this time?

“Oh, nothing. Just a little misunderstanding.” Tucker drew in a sigh and stopped, turning to face Dallas. “Do you really want to know?”

Dallas narrowed his eyes and planted his feet, crossing his arms over his chest. He stared hard at his brother before answering. “Unless it’s got something to do with jail, murder or losing the ranch, then no. Fair warning, though—don’t make a fool of yourself or the family. I’ve—we’ve—worked too hard to keep our upstanding reputation. I don’t need you to bring it down by doing anything stupid.”

The look that flashed through Tucker’s eyes wasn’t what Dallas expected. He saw relief, pain in them and something else...defeat? Ah, shit, maybe he did need to know. He was his brother, after all. Under his cavalier and crusty exterior, Tucker was a softy. To the bone. Dallas had been hard on him, hoping the tough love would work. Last thing he wanted was his brother to fall down the rabbit hole again. “Like I said. Not unless it falls into any of those categories. But know that I’m here for you.”

Tucker nodded and Dallas was relieved to see the stress ease a tiny bit from around Tucker’s eyes. “I brought the truck. A few bags straggled in and Larson sent up some more wedding trinkets.”

“More wedding crap? Take a look around—there’s enough lace and ribbons and girlie stuff to sink a ship. What more could possibly be needed?”

Tucker shrugged a shoulder. “Who the hell knows. It’s chick stuff. Anyway, we need to get it unloaded.”

Dallas followed his brother to the half-ton dually. The wranglers had unloaded most of the additional supplies and late luggage, and carried stuff into the storage tent under Samantha’s care. He checked the labels on the suitcases. Nothing for anyone named Jimi.

“Did Larson say anything about the other suitcase coming?”

Tucker shook his head. “She said something about a woman upset her bag hadn’t arrived.”

“Yeah, she’s already made her displeasure known. Hopefully it turns up in the morning,” Dallas muttered.

“So what’s first now?” Tucker inquired.

“We should get the coals lit. Easy dinner tonight—everything’s on the grill.” He checked his watch and then looked to the sky. “Probably should get the guests out to Bridge Rock. The first night is supposed to be a sunset-cocktail thing.”

“Seriously?” Tucker shook his head and gazed around the camp. “This really is a stretch for us, isn’t it?”

Dallas nodded in agreement. “All I can say is thank God for Samantha. I didn’t want any wedding responsibilities. This is important, though. If we can pull this off, it could open up a whole new niche for us. Weddings and glamping. I think there’s a market.”

Tucker gave him a skeptical look. “Where did you get that idea? I thought all brides wanted to be pampered, five-star, not roughing it like we are up here.”

Dallas shook his head. “Apparently not, according to Sam. If there’s a need, I will provide. Be warned and on your best behavior. Nothing is to go wrong. And no fraternizing, either.”

“What, moi? Fraternize?” Tucker gave him a devilish look, but Dallas kept his demeanor stern. Tucker had to understand the importance of professionalism, something Dallas would have to remind himself where Jimi was concerned.

“So who is this wedding planner?” Tucker asked.

“Haven’t you met Samantha Ray? She’s Larson’s friend.”

Tucker shook his head. “Can’t say that I have.”

“They met at college, but she’s not like Larson at all.” Dallas looked over Tucker’s shoulder. “Well, speak of the devil.”

Tucker turned around as Samantha approached. She was a small thing. With red hair that hung in a riot of organized ringlets almost to her hips and pale blue eyes under ginger brows that easily drew you in, she exuded a serenity unlike Larson. Sam was calm, where Larson was wild.

“Well, well. No, I haven’t met her,” Tucker muttered in a low voice. “She might be worth a little bit of a chase.”

Dallas found that funny and chuckled. “I think she’d run you a merry chase, that’s for sure. She’s way out of your league, bro.”

Tucker ignored him, but Dallas saw the muscle in his jaw twitch, usually a sign he’d been offended. But sometimes the truth hurts and it needed to be heard.

“Hey, Sam, everything good?” Dallas asked.

“So far so good.” She gave a bright smile and turned to Tucker, sticking her hand out. “Hi, I’m Samantha, wedding planner extraordinaire.”

“Tucker, the evil brother of Larson and this paniolo here.”

Dallas watched him take Sam’s hand. They both fell silent and stared at each other for a little bit too long. Samantha’s Tinker Bell mannerisms were momentarily quiet as she gazed up at Tucker. Dallas looked from one to the other. He sensed the attraction between them. They were polar opposites.

“Right, then. Anything else we can help with or do you just want us to disappear?” Dallas nudged Tucker out of the way, which forced him to drop Sam’s hand. “Here, you take this last box, Tucker.” He pushed the box with his boot until it was between him and Sam.

“Um, thanks.” Sam’s gaze lingered on Tucker as she bent to reach for the box.

“No, let me. I insist.” Tucker reached and scooped it, hefting it into his arms. “Now, Miss Samantha, if you’ll just show me the way...”

Her smile was bright as she spun on her heel and walked off, fingers sweeping her phone, red curls bouncing jauntily. But not without a little side glance and cute smile at Tucker.

Dallas sighed as he watched the two of them stride off. He wondered what sort of catastrophe was waiting to rear up next.

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