Dallas Nights by Em Petrova Page A

land. Hart’s Pond, the equivalent of Lover’s Lane in Greenville, was off-limits now that he owned it.
    His engine idled, and he kicked the ATV into gear. The crisp night air in his face revived him. He drove slowly, swinging his head right and left, searching for a person on foot.
    The last thing he needed tonight was to go on a manhunt. Maybe he could just forget about it. The Texas nights weren’t so cold, and whoever had ditched their vehicle could survive the elements.
    Go home. Take a hot shower, grab some grub, and fall into bed.
    If only his damned conscience would shut up and give him peace. His mind wouldn’t shake the thought of a person in need of help.
    “ Hell.” He mounted a small knoll, searching the landscape illuminated by his single headlight.
    Catching something white flashing along the ground, he sped up. As he grew closer, he made out a shape. When he was upon her, she turned, throwing up a hand to shield herself from the glare of his light.
    He drew to a stop, heart doing a slow plunge to his cowboy boots. A woman out here alone. With coyotes and dressed in tiny denim shorts and white flip-flops.
    Cutting the engine, he remained seated, not wanting to alarm her by getting off and walking toward her. The bluish light cast over her bare legs, which curved in all the right places from ankle to hip.
    Son of a bitch. His chest grew tight.
    “ That your truck stuck in the mud back there?”
    She nodded, squinting toward him but probably unable to make out his face in the glare. Thank God for that. “Came up for a look around. I lost track of time, and pretty soon it was dark. But when I tried to drive out…” She spread her hands then let them drop.
    “ I can pull you out in the morning. If you don’t mind climbing on the back,” he gestured to the seat behind him, “I’ll take you up to the house and you can call someone to come get you. Or I can take you home.”
    Anything but that.
    Those curvy legs—dainty ankles, perfectly-sculpted calves, and round thighs had haunted Dallas’s dreams for six years. The last thing he wanted was them wrapped around him again.
    Sh e took a hesitant step toward him, ducking her head to try to see his face, which must be shadowed. “Who… who are you?”
    “ The owner of this pond and land where you’re trespassing.”
    “ Tres—” She gulped. “I’m sorry. I had no idea. I haven’t been in the area for some time.”
    No, because you were off in the city with that dumbass Nathan.
    Ellie Lannigan had been a black star to Dallas for a lot of years, and he intended to keep her that way. After visiting her college dorm, only to walk in to find the jock Nathan Rafferty buried between her thighs, the light of first love had been snuffed out.
    “ Get on.” His voice was gritty and strained. Riding away seemed like the best plan, but he couldn’t leave her out here alone.
    She twisted her hands before her, fro zen in the glare of his headlight. Then as if realizing she had little choice, she moved into the shadows. When she threw one leg over the seat and clamped her thighs around his hips, he ground his teeth against arousal.
    Jesus, she ’d been his everything. Summer heat. Sweet grasses under their rolling bodies. He’d taken her virginity on her eighteenth birthday, and fuck, if he couldn’t remember the way her tight sheath had gripped his fingers then his cock.
    As soon as she was situated, he zoomed off into the night. She leaned in and drew a deep breath next to his shoulder. The hair on his nape lifted, and he fought the urge to pivot his head and stare into her eyes as he ’d done so many years before.
    Except sh e’d riveted him then.
    Now he was different—older, harder. He no longer believed in happily ever after or soul mates. The minute he’d witnessed Nathan Rafferty sinking into her body, Dallas had abandoned that childish notion.
    She didn ’t speak, and he didn’t bother to try. They ran flat-out across the open field toward