Cara Colter - Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

She was glaring at him with naked annoyance, which was a good thing, an antidote for the way he knew they both had felt when their hands touched.

There had always been something between them. Always.

Once, she had been too young.

Though, even then, had he not recognized that she needed something a person like him could never give her?

His failed marriage was ample evidence that he had been right then, and he was right now.

He was not a man accustomed to failure, and that one still had the power to sting. Though he would take it, instead, as a reminder not to tangle too deeply with the lovely Miss Merrifield.

He knew it would be a good note to leave on—with animosity shimmering off her like a heat wave off the desert.

The problem was that he felt honor bound to help her catch the horse. What was he going to do? Leave her here to deal with it when her hand was probably more injured than she was admitting?

Sam looked away from her impaling gaze to see the pony watching him. Who knew a horse could manage an expression of such deep suspicion and dislike?

It was almost identical to her owner’s.

And then, with startling swiftness, Molly leapt forward, snapped off the carrot with her slanted yellow teeth—nearly taking his fingers with it—and leapt away again. She stood just out of reach munching on the carrot, leaving him holding the green top part, all the while watching him out of the corner of her eye.

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