“I’m not a fool, darlin’. I’m not admitting to a single one you haven’t already discovered. You’re searching so hard for more, I’d hate to spoil your fun.”

“How altruistic,” she retorted sourly, wondering when she’d become so transparent. Or was it just that Harlan had an innate knack for reading her, a knack that stemmed from fascination and concentration? Few men had ever studied her quite so intently, that’s for sure. Barry had never even scratched the surface of her emotions. She couldn’t decide whether to feel flattered or cornered that Harlan could.

He settled himself onto the porch railing, then pulled her between his thighs. She didn’t even have the strength of will to resist.

The provocative position, the glitter of desire in his eyes, sent shivers of pure longing dancing through her. As dangerous as the reaction was, she couldn’t have pulled back if her life depended on it.

He kept his hands loosely settled on her hips as if to convey she was free to go, if she chose...if she could.

“Your skin turns to fire when you’re close to me like this,” he observed.

“How polite of you to point it out,” she said, but without nearly as much venom as she should have mustered. Besides, it was true. That was what had forced her away from him only moments before.

“Why does that bother you so much?” he asked. “Men and women have been attracted to each other from the beginning of time. It’s natural.”

“Sometimes the attraction’s to the wrong person.”

“You think I’m wrong for you?”

She nodded. “And I’m just as wrong for you.”

“Why?”

She sighed, unwilling to spell it all out for him. “It’s complicated. You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

Drawing in a deep breath, she leveled a serious look straight into his blue eyes. “If you can’t, I’ll have to stop coming around. I’ll keep Jenny away, too. We’ll find another way to pay for the repairs to your truck. I’ll work it out with Mule.”

“Your debt’s not with Mule. It’s with me,” he insisted stubbornly.

“He’s making the repairs, isn’t he?”

“Forget the blasted bill,” he said, his exasperation apparent in his tone. He lifted her aside and stood. “Your daughter stole my truck. I didn’t call the sheriff because you agreed to let her work off the debt out here.”

She stiffened at the reminder. “I wonder how the sheriff would feel about your taking the law into your own hands, devising your own brand of justice?”

He scowled at her. “You want to test him and find out?”