The Cowboy and the Princess by Lori Wilde

self-respect. Get up.”
    Instead of obeying, Trampas wriggled in the dirt, put out a paw to Lady Astor, and made begging noises.
    The Yorkie’s nose went in the air and she trotted off to take care of business.
    “Pathetic,” Brady scolded his dog. “Done in by an arrogant little female.”
    Trampas didn’t look the least bit ashamed. In fact, he gazed at Lady Astor with adoring, love-struck eyes.
    “Is there a place where I could . . .” Annie cleared her throat, moistened her lips.
    Brady’s gaze hooked on her mesmerizing mouth. “Go to the bathroom?”
    “Um . . . yes.” She looked uncertain now. There it was again. That paradox he found so maddeningly sexy. Prim yet brave.
    “Inside the trailer.” He walked over to lower the steps of the trailer. He unlocked the door, and then held out a hand to help her up.
    “Will you keep an eye on Lady Astor?”
    “Absolutely.”
    She took his hand like it was her birthright to have men wait on her. She sniffed delicately. “It’s dark.”
    He reached around to flip on the twelve-volt light switch.
    “Oh,” she said, sounding surprised. “It is rather nice in here.”
    “You were expecting a hovel.”
    “You are a bachelor.”
    “That doesn’t mean I’m a slob. This trailer is my home. I take pride in it.”
    She turned around in the entryway, scanning the space as Brady perched on the top step, holding the door open. The back end of the trailer housed three horse stalls. He used them mainly when a horse needed to be isolated. Sometimes, he rented himself out as a transport service for folks who bought and sold horses. For now, the back trailer was empty. The opposite end of the trailer housed Brady’s bed, which was located up over the head of the gooseneck trailer. To one side lay a small kitchen area, a stovetop, no oven, a refrigerator, and a postage stamp-sized table with two chairs. Across from that was a small sitting area. The shower was on one side of the unit, the toilet on the other.
    Brady stepped into the trailer with Annie and opened the bathroom door. “Toilet,” he announced.
    She tilted her head at him. “You are going to stay in here while I . . . ?”
    “Where should I go?”
    “I prefer to use the facilities in private.”
    “There’s a door between us.”
    “A very thin door.”
    He lifted an eyebrow in amusement. Prissy along with the prim. “Fine. I’ll go back outside. I better make sure your dog isn’t kicking the stuffing out of my dog.”
    Brady ventured back into the night, drawing the door closed behind him. Lady Astor was sniffing at water puddles, completely ignoring Trampas, who was crawling on his belly after her. “C’mon, show some dignity, will ya?”
    Trampas looked shameless.
    “Face it, buddy. She’s never going to give you the time of day.”
    Trampas ignored him.
    Brady sighed. He needed to schedule the dog for a neutering. He’d meant to do it, but kept putting it off because of his travel schedule. But the dog was over a year old. It was time.
    He whistled. Reluctantly, Trampas got up and trotted over. “You are sleeping in the back tonight. You’re too muddy for the bed.” He pulled a leash from his pocket, clipped it to Trampas’s collar, and guided the dog to the back of the trailer. Trampas whimpered in protest, glanced back at Lady Astor, and let out a mournful howl.
    “She’s so far out of your league it hurts. Just give it up.” He put Trampas inside, fed and watered him. “She’s a high-toned purebred and you’re nothing but a ragtag ruffian.”
    While he was doing all this, Lady Astor came over to watch the proceedings, her little ears sticking straight up. He had to admit the Yorkie was cute as all get-out with those perky little ears and sassy attitude. “Gotta hand it to you, Trampas, she might be out of your league, but you got good taste. She’s pretty and got gumption to boot.”
    He closed the back door of the trailer, scooped up Lady Astor, and carried her inside.