by Joanna Sims
He smiled. “Jensen Jones. And yes, I was there. Great party. Congratulations on your marriage.” He bit into the donut on his plate. Chocolate cider, his favorite. “Mmm—this donut is so good you should charge a thousand bucks for just one.”
“You’d probably pay that,” Eva said, shaking her head with a smile.
“Hey, my family might have done all right in business, but we’re not idiots. Two thousand.”
The three women laughed, and then the bell jangled, so Eva went back to the counter.
“Mikayla,” he said, unable to take his eyes off her. “I know this is going to sound crazy. We just met. We don’t know a thing about each other. But I’m going to be in town for a few days and would love for you to show me around, show me the sights—if you’re free, of course.”
His fantasy woman looked positively shocked. Her mouth dropped slightly open, that sexy, pink lower lip so inviting, and she glanced at her friend. Both their eyes widened again, as if his asking her out, politely couched in terms of a sightseeing guide, was so unusual. The woman was beautiful, her lush breasts in that yellow sundress so damned sexy. Surely she was hit on constantly. Maybe not by millionaires, though.
Ah, Jensen thought, disappointment socking him in the gut. That was it. That was what was so unusual about his interest. She probably wasn’t used to attention from a man with so many commas in his bank account.
Another gold digger? Oh, hell, what did it matter if she were? Jensen wasn’t going there—never again. His heart wasn’t up for grabs. Mikayla Brown was gorgeous, not wearing a ring, and he had a few days to enjoy her company—around town and in bed. He’d wine and dine her, she’d give him her full attention and then they’d both go their separate ways, maybe hooking up once or twice a year when he came to Rust Creek Falls to visit his brothers. Perfect.
The more he looked at her, the more he had another thought: Forget Kalispell. I’m whisking her away to Ibiza or a Greek island for the weekend. No harm in a decadent no-strings weekend romance if they were both for it, right?
She was staring at him. About to say yes. Of course she was. C’mon.
“Oh, I don’t think I’m your type, Mr. Jones,” Mikayla said. She took another bite of her donut, a hint of pink tongue catching a flick of errant custard.
He held her gaze, able to feel his desire for her in every cell of his body. “Trust me. You are.”
She took a breath, lifted her chin and stood up.
Which was when it became obvious that she was very pregnant.
Copyright © 2018 by Harlequin Books S.A.
ISBN-13: 9781488093807
High Country Cowgirl
Copyright © 2018 by Joanna Sims
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