Marin Thomas - A Cowboy of Her Own

“One song is enough,” Porter said.

“I wasn’t that bad, was I?” She looked at her fans. The men saluted her with their beer bottles.

“How about a game of darts?” Porter asked.

“I’ve never played before.” She accepted his help off the stage.

“I’ll show you how to hit the bull’s-eye.” He laid money on the bar and the barkeep handed them two sets of darts.

“Can I have the blue ones?” she asked.

“Sure.” Porter stood behind Wendy, grasped her wrist and raised her arm.

“What are you doing?” she whispered when his breath feathered across the back of her neck.

“Showing you how to throw.” He pulled her arm back and then thrust it forward. She released the dart and it sailed across the room, hitting the wall next to the board.

“You’re not a very good teacher,” she said, turning around.

“I’m better at other things.” The heat in his eyes stole her breath.

If you kiss him, you’ll compromise your investigation.

Right now she didn’t care about her job. All she wanted was to feel Porter’s mouth on hers.

He stepped back suddenly. “It’s late. We’d better go.”

Wendy followed, relieved one of them had come to their senses before it was too late—she just wished it had been her and not Porter.

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