âIâm not making visits to the Silver Horn ranch for your amusement, Mr Calhoun.â
âHow could anything so cold come out of such a beautiful mouth?â he countered. âEspecially when I havenât given you a reason to dislike me.â
She breathed deeply and assured herself that she wasnât feeling an ounce of attraction for this man. âIâve not given you any reason to flirt with me either,â she said stiffly.
Instead of making him angry, her response merely made him laugh. Again. And Lilly was shocked at how the low, rich sound sent a shiver of pleasure right through her.
âYouâre definitely a saucy little thing.â
And he was just the sort of man that Lilly had taken great pains to avoid these past few years. âIâm not a thing, Mr Calhoun. Iâm a woman.â
The corner of his lips curved upward. âYes, I can see exactly how much of a woman.â
* * *
Men of the West: Whether ranchers or lawmen, these heartbreakers can ride, shootâand drive a woman crazy â¦
Chapter One
The man standing at the foot of the long staircase was one tall, dusty cowboy and looked entirely out of place standing on the polished wood floor in his boots and spurs and bat-wing chaps. A straw hat was pulled low over his forehead, but the moment he spotted her descending the long steps, he swept it off to reveal thick waves of varying shades of chestnut. Yet it was the speculative gaze on his face that jarred Lilly Lockett the most and prompted her to lift her chin to a challenging tilt.
She halted two steps from where he stood with a gloved hand resting on the polished balustrade. âAre you lost?â
To her dismay, he threw back his head and howled with laughter. âA few folks around here would say Iâm lost all the time, Ms...?â
The unsettling glint in his eyes put a prim note to her voice. âLilly Lockett. And you are?â
Climbing one step closer, he jerked off a scarred leather glove and extended his hand to her. âRafe Calhoun, at your service, maâam.â
Lilly wasnât sure if the blush warming her face was because the man was touching her or because sheâd mistaken a member of the Calhoun family for a common ranch hand.
âHello, Rafe Calhoun. Are you Bartâs son or grandson?â
His outlandish grin was bracketed by a pair of incredible dimples, but they only made up a small part of this manâs striking looks. His skin was tanned to a deep nut-brown, making a pair of gray eyes stand out beneath hooded brows. Chiseled cheekbones angled downward to a proud, hawkish nose and lean cheeks, while a hank of rusty-brown hair flopped onto a high forehead. Sheâd heard through the rumor mill that one of the Calhoun boys was a player with the ladies and from the looks of this one sheâd pretty much bet him to be the culprit.
âBart is my grandfather.â His gaze slipped from her face to her bare ring finger then farther downward over her navy blue scrubs. âAre you here to treat him?â
Determined not to allow this rakish cowboy to rattle her senses for one moment longer, she pulled her hand from his and stiffened her already straight spine. âIâm Mr. CalhounâsâBartâs physical therapist. Iâll be working with him the next few weeks.â
If possible, the grin on Rafe Calhounâs face grew even deeper. âWell, now, thatâs the best news Iâve heard in days.â
Her back teeth clamped together. âReally? The fact that your grandfather has had a stroke and needs physical therapy is good news to you?â
âAw, now, Lilly,â he began in a slow, flirtatious drawl. âThat wasnât even close to what I meant.â
Not about to give this man an opportunity to work his charms on her, she said, âIt was nice to meet you, Mr. Calhoun. Now if youâll excuse me, I have to be at the hospital in forty-five minutes.â
He stroked a thoughtful finger along his jaw. âIt only takes thirty minutes to get to town from here. Surely you can give me five of those extra ones.â
âWhat makes you think you deserve five minutes of my time?â