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for the last hour. She'd thought getting off the horse would provide a respite, a break from his teasing and innuendoes, from his lusty nature. But now his eyes blazed with desire so hot she couldn't look away.
    He lowered his head. His lips were just a breath away from hers. She needed him to kiss her. To prove the first time was a fluke. To show her he was nothing but an oversexed cowboy, a flirt who wanted to buy her property for some secret reason. The breeze rushed through the trees. The sound of a spring bubbled in the distance. She held her breath. She knew what was going to happen. She waited for it, wanted it. Now.
    He told himself not to touch her. But after an hour of sitting behind her, her bottom pressed into his rigid masculinity, tendrils of silky hair teasing his face, his resistance was close to zero. He was hot, he was frustrated and he was annoyed that she wouldn't give up and go home.
    The longer he waited, the more the tension grew, like fence wire stretched between two posts. He pressed one hand against her arched back and urged her tightly against him, amazed once again at how well she fit.
    And then he claimed her with a kiss. One hot, breathless, soul-searching kiss that left Chloe shaking to the tips of her suede boots. And then another kiss, deeper, longer, stronger. His lips were rough against hers. He tasted like coffee and he smelled like leather. This man she scarcely knew had kissed her again like she'd never been kissed before. Twice. No, three times. And she'd kissed him back. Hungry for the taste of him. Unable to get enough of him. Desire flowed through her veins, thick and hot and heavy. She sifted her fingers through his sun-bleached hair.
    His tongue stroked her lips, then plunged in, and she welcomed him. But somewhere she knew it was wrong. Last night could be excused as an experiment, a test. But today...today was something else. She knew he couldn't be trusted, but right now she didn't care. Her hunger, her vertigo, her aching muscles were all forgotten in the ecstasy of a stranger's kiss. From deep in her throat a moan escaped. He answered with one of his own. And brought her closer to him. So close she could feel the heat from his body scorch right through her clothes, and the strength of his arousal press against her belly.
    Suddenly dry leaves crackled loudly in the clear air, and the sound of hooves thumped against the ground like hammer blows, sending Chloe flying out of Zeb's arms.
    “What was that?” she demanded, her eyes wide with fright.
    He shrugged, apparently unaffected by the kisses she found earth-shattering. “Just an elk,” he said. “And you scared him away. Don't tell me you'd begrudge him a drink of spring water? Your average male elk has a harem of a dozen females. He needs all the vigor he can get to keep them satisfied.”
    She folded her arms across her waist and studied him. This outstanding specimen of a cowboy with his broad shoulders, narrow hips and ragged face probably had at least a dozen women to satisfy himself, if his raging libido and hot, steamy kisses were any indication. She had no intention of becoming number thirteen, no matter how deliciously desirable he made her feel.
    “Is it my imagination or are you slightly obsessed with sex?” she asked.
    “You call it sex, I call it nature,” he explained.
    “Oh, really? Well, I'd love to hear more about elk and their mating habits, but I feel a little funny,” she said pressing her fingers against her temples. Funny was putting it mildly. She was feeling positively giddy. But was it the altitude, or hunger—or was it him? She didn't want to know. She had to get away from him. Think things over. “I think I'll go home,” she said.
    Relief rushed through his veins. He repressed an ear-to-ear smile. “Sure?”
    “Yes, I'm hungry. I'm going to try to build another fire. And heat up some of my freeze-dried food for lunch.”
    “And then you're going...” He waited, holding his