Seduction, Westmoreland Style(3)

By: Brenda Jackson


Finally, after several tense moments, McKinnon sighed deeply and turned back to face her, feeling that he didn’t owe her anything. He saw the angry lines curving her lips and thought that from the first time he’d seen her, he had found her mouth as tempting as the shiny red apple Eve had offered to Adam. And he bet her lips were just as delicious and probably even more sinful.

For crying out loud, couldn’t she feel the sexual chemistry flowing between them even amidst all that anger radiating from her? And from him? The moment he had turned around and seen Casey standing in the middle of the barn, he’d felt a zap of emotions shoot to every part of his body as well as his testosterone spike up a few notches. The woman was so striking that even the bright sunlight, which rarely showed its face in these parts, didn’t have a thing on her.

She exuded an air of sexiness without much effort and although she was frowning quite nicely now, the few occasions he had seen her smile, her mouth had a way of curving enticingly that made you want to kiss the smile right off her lips. Even now her angry pout was a total turn on.

Then there were her physical attributes. Dark brown hair that was cut in a short and sassy style complimented her mahogany-colored features, eyes the color of the darkest chocolate that could probably make you melt if you gazed into them long enough, and a petite frame that was clad in a pair of jeans that appeared made just for her body.

He had just seen her last month at her cousin Delaney’s surprise birthday party. He was of the opinion that each and every time he saw her she just kept getting prettier and prettier, and his attraction to her that more extreme. She even had the ability to smell good while standing in a barn filled with a bunch of livestock. Whatever perfume she was wearing was doing a number on him and besides that, although he couldn’t see her legs right now, he had them plastered to his memory. They were long, shapely and—”

“Well, McKinnon?”

He met her gaze as he tossed the brush in a pail and shoved his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “Okay, I’ll give you a reason. This is a horse ranch and I’m looking for someone who can train horses and not ponies. Corey would never forgive me if something were to happen to you.”

He inwardly shuddered as if imagining such a thing, then added, “For Pete’s sake, you’re no bigger than a mite. The horse that needs to be trained is meaner than hell and I need to get him ready for the races in six weeks. As far as I’m concerned, you’re not the person for the job. Prince Charming is too much animal for you to handle.”

Anger flared in Casey’s eyes and she drew herself up to her full five-foot-three. “And you’re making that decision without giving me a chance to show you what I can do?”

“Yes, evidently I am,” he drawled.

“Then you’re nothing but a male chauvinistic—”

“Think whatever you like, but the bottom line is that I’m not hiring you. I’m sure there’re other jobs in Bozeman that might interest you. And since you’re familiar with running a clothing store, you might want to check in town to see if there’re any employment opportunities available in that area.”

Casey stared at him as she struggled to control the fury that threatened to suffocate her. He was right. She was wasting her time here. “In that case, there’s nothing left for me to say,” she said tightly, staring at his impassive features.

“No, there really isn’t.” And to prove his point he picked up the brush and began grooming the horse again, totally dismissing her once more.

Without saying anything else, an angry Casey strode toward the exit of the barn.

McKinnon watched Casey leave and released a deep sigh of frustration.

He knew she was pretty pissed with him but there was no way he would hire her to work on his ranch. Most Arabians by nature were mild-mannered and people-oriented, but the horse sent here for training lacked a friendly disposition by leaps and bounds. The only explanation McKinnon could come up with was that someone had treated the horse badly in the past, and it would take a skilled trainer to turn things around. He knew Casey had been born and raised in Texas , so chances were strong she was used to horses. But still, if things worked out and he expanded his business to train more horses, she would be dealing with studs that were known to be mean-spirited. He refused to be responsible if something were to happen to her.

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