Joy Ann Oliver has always yearned for a man who appreciated her feminine qualities. A person who offered adventure and romance like the cowboy could not be resisted. His face spoke a language if pleasure, giving a woman, or yet, a man, something to feed their fantasies.
Now she had the chance to pry information from him. She was so nervous she almost forgot what she was going to do. The phone rang and her husband left the room so she could go ahead with her plan.
Her heart began pounding.
She sat down beside the cowboy, not daring to look directly at him. His eyes could take the thoughts right out of her head. Their light-blue color seemed to chance to deep, dark blue.
“I’ve never known anyone who takes to the road like you do,” she said with a sigh, “Someone who actually lives in a tipi.” She wondered what he was thinking. He did seem to have a sixth sense about women. Does he know that I’m trying to pin him down, analyze his actions, and then put him into some type of container with an appropriate label–safe, unsafe, friend or lover?
“You’ve been kind to me since I’ve been here,” he said. “Would you like me to tell you why I have come?”
She about fell off the chair. Joy Ann looked up at him, suddenly worried about what she might learn. His voice was soft, his tone sincere, giving her the feeling he was at least going to tell the truth.
She didn’t move one little bit. She craved to know things about this charming man. The urge to uncover his mysterious past kept building. The reasons for him being at their ranch twisted and turned. Now was her chance to find out — that’s if her husband didn’t return too soon and she wouldn’t find out what her heart yearned to know.