Texas Pride by Bárbara McCauley Page B

hammering so loud she thought for sure Dylan would hear. “I’m fine,” she said tightly, and tried to pull away. He held firm.
    â€œYou need to put something on this to ease the burning,” he said, his voice strangely rough.
    She’d have to put something on her entire body, Jessica thought. She felt hot all over, inside and out, and she doubted that anything other than the man holding her could ever ease that.
    His thumbs moved gently over her wrists, then her palms. The heat built until she felt limp. Self-preservation had her pulling away. “I’ll take care of it.”
    He stared at her for what felt like hours, though it was only a few seconds. “See that you do.”
    He moved past her, up the stairs and into his room. She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. Forget the chicken, she thought. She was heading straight for the chocolate cake.
    * * *
    A three-quarter moon hung low in the sky by the time Dylan cut the engine on his bike and cruised quietly into Makeshift. It was barely past nine, hardly what a bachelor would consider late, but he’d been anxious to get back for two hours.
    Hell, he’d been anxious to get back before he’d even left.
    He wouldn’t have gone at all if he hadn’t promised to meet Jared and Jake. They all knew it was risky trying to talk with Jessica around, so they’d arranged a coincidental we-just-ran-into-each-other meeting at the Rock Slide Bar. Dylan had been relieved when both Jake and Jared had left early, but when one of the crew spotted him in the smoke-filled bar he’d been forced into hanging out for a while longer.
    Removing his helmet, he looked up at the hotel and saw that the only light came from her room. He frowned. Jessica rarely went to her room this early. In fact, she was usually up half the night. He often heard her talking to Hannibal or listening to music on the radio. Too often he’d found himself staring mindlessly at the set of blueprints he’d been working on, wondering what she was doing, or even worse, what she was wearing. He’d lost count of the pencil tips he’d broken during those thoughts.
    With a long sigh, he raked his fingers through his hair and went into the quiet hotel. He knew it was for the best that she’d retreated. During the day it was easy to avoid her, especially with all the crew around.
    It was the nights that preyed on him, made him think about things he shouldn’t think about, want things he shouldn’t want. Seeing Jake and Jared tonight was a fresh reminder that she was out-of-bounds, and for that, he was glad he’d gone to town. He definitely needed a memory jolt when it came to Jessica and why he was here.
    He made his way silently through the darkness into the kitchen. He hadn’t eaten in town. After thinking about the dinner Jessica said she was preparing, the greasy fries and hot dogs at the bar hadn’t appealed to him. I’m getting soft, he decided, but started for the refrigerator, anyway, hoping there might be leftovers, then froze when something cold and wet brushed his hand.
    Hannibal.
    Laughing at himself, Dylan bent down to pet the dog. “How you doing, boy?” Dylan ruffled the animal’s fur. “Jessica asleep already?”
    That was when he heard the voices.
    He stopped, listening carefully. A man’s voice. And a woman’s. Talking softly. Not loud enough to hear the words, but the tone and inflection were definitely amorous.
    He squinted into the darkness, straining to make out what was being said and where it was coming from. Upstairs, he decided, and slowly moved out of the kitchen toward the stairs. Hannibal padded alongside him, unconcerned, though Dylan was certain the dog heard the voices, as well.
    Dylan stood at the base of the stairs. He heard the soft sound of a feminine laugh.
    No wonder she’d practically pushed him out the door earlier this evening. She’d been expecting