Cattleman's Choice by Diana Palmer Page A

animals,” he said, his voice quiet, deep. “I don’t find anything distasteful about reproduction, about sex. You shouldn’t either. It’s God’s way of perpetuating the species, and it’s beautiful.”
    She flushed, but she didn’t look away. “You make it sound that way,” she said softly.
    His eyes searched hers intimately. “I don’t like the idea of one-night stands and affairs, or people living together without marriage. I’m old-fashioned enough to want a woman with principles when I marry, and not a woman who’ll proposition me just because she feels liberated.”
    Her eyebrows arched. “Has that ever happened to you?” she asked.
    He laughed softly. “As a matter of fact, yes, at a cattle convention, of all places. She was a little rodeo rider and as pretty as a picture. She came up to me, touched me in a way I won’t even tell you about and invited me to spend the night with her.”
    She hesitated. “Did you?” she asked in a tiny voice, all eyes.
    He studied her mouth for a long moment. “Shame on you. A well brought up young woman like you, asking a man that kind of question….”
    â€œDid you sleep with her?” she persisted.
    â€œNo, as a matter of fact, I didn’t,” he chuckled. “I like to do the chasing.”
    â€œYes, I imagine you would,” she replied, but she felt relieved all the same.
    His hand slid down her back to the bottom of her spine and pushed her just a little closer, and she caught her breath and froze.
    â€œToo intimate?” he murmured. “Okay, I get the message. The kind of girls I’m used to don’t mind being held like that. But I guess I’ve got a lot to learn about civilized behavior.”
    She nuzzled her face against his chest with a sigh. “I’ve got a lot to learn about the reverse,” she said with a smile. “No one’s ever held me this way.”
    His hands contracted on her waist, and she gasped. “Hey, not so tight,” she laughed. “That hurts!”
    â€œWhy don’t you go out with anyone?”
    That was a good question, but it wasn’t the time for confessions. “I like my own company,” she said after a minute.
    â€œYou’ll need a man one day.”
    â€œNo,” she protested. “I don’t want anyone.”
    His hand caught suddenly in the thick length of her hair and tugged sharply. She gasped at the twinge of pain and stared at him as if he were a stranger.
    â€œYou can’t live alone forever,” he said harshly, his eyes glittering down into hers. “You need more than your work.”
    â€œWhat do I need, since you’re such an expert on the subject?” she challenged hotly.
    He pulled her hair, more gently now, forcing her head down onto his shoulder while the music played on, forgotten. “You need to be dragged into a man’s bed and loved all night long. That’s what you need.”
    â€œNot with you,” she protested, pushing against his hard chest. “You’ve got a woman already!”
    He wouldn’t let go. “I have?”
    â€œOf course,” she grumbled, pushing harder. “The one we’re remodeling you for, remember? The one who’s too stuck up to like you the way…you are…will you let go of me, damn it!” She stood still, hating the slow, sweet stirrings of her own body as he held her and she felt his heartbeat merging with her own.
    His chest rose and fell with gathering speed, and the hand holding her long hair released it and began a caressing motion.
    It dawned on her that the music was still playing, a sultry tune that only made more dangerous an already flammable situation.
    â€œDance, don’t fight,” he whispered deeply. “Don’t fight me.”
    Her legs were trembling as he drew her into a rhythm that was more like making love to music than dancing. His