A Moment in Time by Deb Stover Page B

so inclined."   He cleared his throat, trying not to remember just how inclined he'd felt with her softness filling his hand.   Instead, he reached for the buttons of his shirt and released them one at a time, tugging the tail out until it flapped in the breeze.
           She arched a brow.   "Then why are you taking off your clothes, cowboy?"
           He shoved his hat farther back on his head. "First, I'm not a cowboy, at least not yet."   He held up two fingers.   "Second, I'm trying to do the gentlemanly thing here and give you the shirt off my back."
           "Oh."   A smile curved her lips as he slipped his hands around her tiny waist and lowered her to the ground, her feather-covered bosom coming dangerously close to his bare chest.
           A knot formed in his throat at the transformation in her appearance when she smiled.   Miss Lolita was...well... beautiful.   He held his breath and released her to remove his shirt, wincing at the stabbing pain in his shoulder, then offered her the garment.
           "Thanks."   She smiled again.
           "You're welcome."   He stood there like a roped steer, sliding his suspenders back over his bare shoulders.  
           "You have a bruise."   She bit her lower lip and caressed his wounded shoulder with her now tender gaze.
           "It's nothing."   He held his breath, reining in his rampant urges.  
           "I'm sorry I went crazy, but I didn't know what to do."   She sighed and met his gaze again.   "I didn't mean for you or Ruth to get hurt."
           He couldn't believe this was the same woman who'd screamed loud enough to send his mare into hysteria earlier.   He stared long and hard at Miss Lolita, then gave a curt nod, reminding himself he couldn't really be sure she wouldn't go crazy again.   "It's all right now."
           "Thanks."   She made a twirling motion with her finger.   "Uh, do you mind?"  
           "Oh, of course, ma'am."   He half-turned, then shot a look back over his shoulder.   "You aren't going to try anything, are you?"
           "Huh.   Where would I go?"   She rolled her eyes heavenward.   "Getting lost in the frigging mountains is what got me in this mess in the first place."
           She made less sense than that snake oil salesman who came through town every spring and fall.   "Good enough."   He turned his back and folded his arms over his bare abdomen.   A man could get mighty cold at night in these mountains without a shirt.   He'd have to ask Merriweather for one.   Now that was a name Cole wished he'd never heard....
           "All right, you can turn around now."  
           He pivoted and almost laughed at the ridiculous sight.   His shirt engulfed her, hanging nearly to her knees and gaping open at the neckline where he'd lost a button last summer and never bothered to replace it.   She rolled the sleeves up just above her slender wrists, then put her hands on her hips.  
           "There, how do I look?"
           Cole laughed.   "Like a little boy wearing his pa's clothes."
           "You know damn well I'm not a little boy," she said in a sultry tone, then bent down to retrieve the ostrich feathers at her feet.   "Would you like to try wearing these itchy things for a while, Mr. Morrison?"
           The reminder of his earlier indiscretion regarding her anatomy sent a flash of quicksilver between his legs.   To make matters worse, her gaze raked his nakedness, and if he wasn't mistaken, she liked what she saw.   Damnation.
           "No," he whispered, his voice gruff and thick, "you definitely are not a boy."   He took the feathers and draped them around a tree branch.   "We'd better go on into town so I can get home before dark."
           "Mmm, you do have a fine set of pecs, Mr. Morrison."   She winked, then turned and put the wrong foot in the stirrup.   After a few seconds of staring at her