Back Where You Belong Read Online Free PDF

akin to humor danced in his expression.
    “Oh, crap, of course not. I’m sorry.” She ripped a few paper towels off the roll and hurried over to wipe up Honeybun’s wet welcome. “I don’t know what possessed her to do that. She’s been housebroke for years. Do you have a dog? Maybe she smells a dog on you. Or a cat, if you have one. Collies have a great sense of smell, you know.” She kept dabbing at his boots and the puddle next to them. “I’m sorry. Truly. Don’t take offense. I’m sure she likes you.”
    “Lacy.” He got down on his hunkers so he could look into her eyes. “Calm down. It’s fine. She can’t hurt these old shit-kickers. Please, don’t fret over it. Take a deep breath and relax.”
    She nodded and pursed her lips. “You make me nervous.”
    “I know I do. You have a way of getting under my skin, too.” He placed his hands on her upper arms and stood, pulling her up with him. His hands slid up and down in an almost proprietary gesture. A slow smile spread. “Something smells good.”
    His touch was sending sparks all through her system. If she didn’t step away, she was going to climb his leg like a cat in heat. Too bad she couldn’t force her legs to move—or her gaze. She couldn’t look away from those eyes that seemed to darken to midnight right in front of her. His Comanche heritage was quite evident in his coloring and sharp cheekbones. She recalled asking him ten years ago if he was American Indian. He’d been helping her with Zeus, her champion horse, at the time. His hair had been long, falling over his shoulders, and he was the most masculine male she’d ever encountered; much better than those pimply-faced pubescent boys in middle school.
    He’d turned those same dark eyes on her that day and said he was Native. Then he gave her a short history lesson on the Comanche, who were renowned for their horsemanship. His equestrian skills were evident in the way he instructed her in handling Zeus. He had a non-verbal communication with animals that often included tongue clicks, low moans and growls.
    The heat of a blush spread across her cheeks as she also recalled how she’d wished she were a horse to feel his wide palms stroking her the way he did Zeus, or to hear his low moans and growls as he… Dear God, make me stop fantasizing about him.
    “Lacy?”
    He’d whispered her name, and her gaze flew from his full lips to those dark chocolate eyes.
    One dark eyebrow rose. “What are you thinking that has you blushing like this?”
    True to her fantasy, his wide palm slowly and lightly swept up her back. She gave an involuntary shudder, and her eyes drifted shut. If she didn’t soon move away from him, she might as well openly declare her desires. Then she’d never be able to face him again.
    Lacy turned to throw away the soiled paper towels and scrub her hands.
    He followed her to the sink. “You didn’t answer my question. What were you thinking?”
    Oh, cowboy, you don’t even want to know . She measured beans into the coffee grinder for something to do with her hands when she would rather run them up his shirt to feel his muscles.
    “I, uh, was recalling the things you taught me one day, years and years ago.” She depressed the button on the grinder; its whirling noise filled the kitchen for a minute.
    When it finished, he tilted his head to the side. “Like what?”
    “Things about the Comanche and their love for pinto horses. No doubt you’ve forgotten that conversation.” She dumped the fragrant, freshly ground coffee into the filter and then filled the reservoir with water before turning the coffee maker on. All normal, routine movements intent on disguising the irregular beating of her heart and trembling of her insides. Why did he have to stand so close?
    “I do remember. I told you how special your horse was since it was the particular type of pinto developed by the Comanche. We called it Medicine Hat or War Bonnet because of the markings over its