Marie Harte - A Matter of Pride

Rich and famous men wanted her. Athletes, CEOs, movies stars. They all wanted a piece of the blonde bombshell who designed stellar gowns for Miami’s elite. Yet Dean didn’t seem to want anything from her. Not a wink, a kiss or even a penny. He didn’t compliment her. Didn’t kowtow to her, and didn’t seem to want to spend time with her.

Annoyed, baffled and strangely intrigued, she did her best to give him a wide berth, which wasn’t easy in a town this size. And having to stay at the ranch and report her whereabouts all the time had worn thin weeks ago.

“Look, I had a change of plans. I’m heading into Whitefish after I run some errands. Make sure your brother, Burke or Joel knows you’re here.”

“Why bother the bear?” Joel Buchanan was one half of the bear couple at the ranch. An odd family, the Cougar Falls Pride. Made up of bears, cats, foxes and a wolf, the pride had more non-felines than cats. Yet they acted like blood, and when she and her family had been in trouble a month ago, they’d stepped in to protect her and her siblings.

“ The bear is part of the pride, Miss Priss.”

She hated his nicknames.

“He’s interested in keeping you safe,” Dean continued. “Though God knows why he should need to. Just open your mouth and your enemies will run the other way.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Good to know. How about this? Get the hell out while I’m working.” He didn’t move, just put his hands on his trim hips, which made his forearms flex and his biceps bunch. She wished she wouldn’t notice such things, and on most men, she didn’t. But damn if she could look away from Dean, even when his brows drew close, signaling the end of his patience.

“You are such a pain in my ass.” Dean shook his head. “I can’t for the life of me figure out why I—”

She’d started to take offense, but his confession stopped her. “Why you what?”

He seemed unable to make up his mind about something.

She sighed. “Look, Jethro. I really do have work to do. So take your hillbilly self out and—”

He took three steps, closed the distance between them and kissed her.

And like that, her entire world rotated off its axis and crashed.

Dean knew it was a mistake the minute his lips touched hers, but he could only handle so much temptation. For some reason, the bitchier she grew, the more he needed to take her down a peg. He’d wanted to taste her for years. Her visits to town, though sporadic, had hinted at the beauty she’d become. Yet for all her outward appeal, it was her inner core—a combination of arrogance, harshness and a hint of vulnerability that peeked out at him now and then—that refused to let his attraction be only physical.

Good Lord, did she taste good. Her lips were soft and yielding under his. He’d expected her to take charge of the kiss, the way she commanded everyone else around her. Instead she softened under him and invited him to sample more.

A low groan rumbled from his chest, and he was helpless to stop the purr that grew. Damn, he wanted to lick her up. From her toes to her lips, centering on her breasts crushed to his chest, and lower, to that sweet spot between her legs that tempted him to drop to his knees and go to town.

She gripped his arms, her fingers not meeting around his biceps. Though tall and toned, she didn’t have the bulk to back up her attitude. Feminine and curvy in all the right places, she fit him perfectly. An image of her smiling up at him, her blue eyes wide and welcoming, hit him hard. And in her arms, she’d hold a little girl with his smile, a miniature Stacey he’d love and cherish forev—

He shoved her away in horror. “Holy Christ.”

She blinked and frowned up at him. “Excuse me?”

She would have sounded more annoying if she hadn’t been so out of breath. A glance down showed hard nipples straining at her blouse. The urge to rip her shirt open and suck on those tight nipples until she came hit him right between his legs.

He groaned and prayed he wouldn’t come in his pants. Thinking about sex with Stacey was one thing. She looked like the poster girl for condoms. But a baby? Since when did Dean Chastell need to settle down with one woman? Panicked, because his cat seemed to love the idea of Stacey and forever, Dean backed away.

“What the hell is your problem?”

“I—” He took a deep breath and calmed himself. “Just thought that might shut you up.” He thought he’d done a good job of appearing blasé until she smiled.

“Really? Because it seemed to me like you were well on your way to getting off.” She shot a significant glance at his erection.

“Hell, Stacey. You’re a sexy blonde. I’m a guy. Do the math.”

A flash of hurt appeared in her eyes before it vanished, making him wonder if it had been there to begin with. “Oh, so any woman will do so long as her hair is the right color?”

“Not what I said.” He didn’t like the thought he might have hurt her feelings. “But why the hell did you kiss me back?” He sounded accusing, but damn if he could help himself. It was bad enough he lusted after the shrew. She didn’t need to encourage him.

“I was curious about what all the women in town have experienced.”

“Not all the women,” he snapped. “I date, okay? I’m not a man-whore, and I’m not some dog in heat.”

“Cat in heat,” she murmured.

He took a step closer, right in her face, and keeping true to form, she didn’t back away an inch. “I like women. I love women,” he snarled, wishing he wasn’t so hot for this particular female. “It’s not my fault they talk about me. I like to have fun. What the hell is so wrong with having a good time?” Frustrated because the topic had been one he’d been dealing with for years, he couldn’t help himself. “Just because I don’t want to settle down, knock some woman up and mate for life , I’m a jerk? A whore? A— What did you call me last week? A backwoods gigolo with dirt for brains?”

She had the grace to flush.

“Gimme a break, Stacey. You might be too good for everyone around you, but that doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t want a little companionship every now and then.”

He knew he had no right to take out his frustration on her, despite how grating she might be. So he took a step back, ignored his urge to kiss her once more and stalked toward the exit. “Don’t leave unless Monty or Joel is hot on your ass.” Then he slammed his way out the door, wishing he’d had the good sense not to touch her in the first place. Because now that he knew what she tasted and felt like, it would be hell staying away.

Stacey watched him leave, annoyed with herself for goading him. That kiss had nearly melted her into a puddle of warm yes . And then she’d gone and ruined things, the way she always did. Lashing out usually worked in her favor, because the guys she tended to date ended up being jerks. They liked her as arm candy, to brag about or to satisfy an itch.

For once, she’d enjoyed a kiss because she knew the man couldn’t help himself, that he didn’t want to want her. That was a new one.

But mama, could that man kiss. No wonder the women of Cougar Falls were in lust with the golden playboy of the Catamount Ranch. Dean was lethal with those lips, that tongue… He’d kept his hands on her hips, respectful yet keeping her close enough to work his magic. But he hadn’t been able to hide the sexual heat bleeding from his body into hers.

Had she ever felt so much the center of someone else’s world? In his arms, she’d felt every inch the focus of his attention. He’d made love with his mouth. Not just a kiss—the joining of mouths and tongues had been an exploration of so much more. Her cat wanted another taste, to lap him up and find out what other fun things Dean liked to do. God, that promise in his pants had made her itch to hike up her skirt and wrap her legs around him. She’d wanted nothing more than to hitch her groin against his and ease that hungry spot between her legs.