As they stepped outside, Cole savored the brush of the cool night air against his skin. The evening cleared the cobwebs from his thoughts, but did little to cool his libido. He let Darci walk beside him for a few minutes, then reached out and took her hand in his. She jerked and turned a distrustful gaze on him.

“Relax. It’s all part of the show. If you jump every time I touch you, no one will ever believe our charade.” Her fingers slowly loosened, then stiffly settled against his hand. The simple gesture sent a flood of heat curling through him again.

“Does it have to be that way? Can’t we just act like business associates in the office and stay out of the public eye the rest of the time?”

“Running scared already, little girl?”

She jerked her hand away and folded her arms under her breasts. “I’m not running scared, I just don’t see the need to let you paw me whenever you want.”

He almost smiled. Actually, he should be highly insulted. Women begged for his touch, in many different ways. But Darci was innocent, he reminded himself. He’d known that the first time they’d kissed. She might not necessarily be a virgin, but she’d never truly explored her sexuality with a man. And no man had ever allowed her the full release she deserved.

“Does my touch repulse you?” Gently, firmly, he pried her hand free and curled her small fingers into his. The brief brush against her silk-covered breast was almost his undoing, but he concentrated on the night noises around them, forcing his body back under control.

“Of course not.” She tentatively tugged on her hand, then gave up.

He moved a little closer, just close enough to catch an occasional whiff of her perfume, just close enough to torture himself with the possibilities.

Darci shrugged. “It’s just that this…this marriage isn’t what I was expecting.”

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know.” Her lips twisted ruefully. “You didn’t give me much time to think about it, did you.”

“There wasn’t time to give.” And if he’d allowed her any time, she would never have gone through with the deed. Especially if she’d had time to find out about his true motives. “It’s okay, honey. We’ll make it all work.”

He watched as she swallowed her doubts, and he resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. He’d always planned ahead at the rodeo, had watched the calves run, plotted the course of his rope, thought every move through. Everything else in his life had been accomplished with the same carefully timed precision.