To Love a Stranger by Connie Mason

He gave her an evocative glance. “For some reason, I couldn’t sleep.” Half the night had passed before his arousal allowed him to seek his bed.
    Zoey’s heart skipped a beat. Pierce wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep last night. The way his hands had burned her flesh aroused her still. She had tossed and turned far into the night, recalling everything she found attractive and exciting about Pierce … every tiny detail. When sleep finally claimed her she dreamed she was lying in Pierce’s arms, experiencing all those things he hadpromised, even though she had to guess about most of them.
    Zoey placed a plate of ham and eggs before Pierce, grateful that he couldn’t read her thoughts. “I’ll wait outside. Come out when you’re ready.”
    “Have you eaten?”
    “I ate with Cully.”
    He eyed her critically. “You’re not going to town dressed like that, are you?” He didn’t mind seeing her in those tight britches, but he didn’t want anyone else staring at her curvy bottom. “You’re a wife now. Dress like one.”
    “I beg your pardon?” Her voice shook with anger. “I’ll dress any way I please. You have no right to dictate to me.”
    Pierce’s eyebrows shot upward. “Am I or am I not your husband?”
    “You are,” she admitted grudgingly.
    “Then I suggest you do as I say. I won’t have men looking at you with lust in their eyes. You belong to me. No man has a right to see what’s mine alone to view.”
    Zoey nearly laughed aloud. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Pierce was jealous. How absurd. “Have you ever tried riding in skirts?”
    “Don’t you have a riding outfit?”
    “Britches are more comfortable.”
    “Would you rather change with or without my help?”
    Hands on hips, Zoey glared at him. “Very well, have it your way.” Then she whirled and marched up the stairs, her bottom swaying provocatively. She didn’t hear Pierce’s frustrated groan.
    By the time Pierce finished his breakfast, Zoeyhad returned to the kitchen wearing a split skirt and crisp white blouse. “Does this suit you,
husband
?”
    Pierce stifled a grin. “That will do quite nicely,
wife
.” He rose and took her arm. “Shall we go?”
    The trip into town was short and uneventful. Within thirty minutes they were riding down the dusty street of Rolling Prairie, dodging dogs, children, and mud puddles.
    “I’ll meet you later for lunch. Where’s a good place to eat?” Pierce asked as they separated at the corner.
    “The Montana Hotel has the best meals.”
    “Meet me there at noon. There are several things I need to do besides mail my letter.”
    “Try to stay out of trouble,” Zoey advised.
    “I’m not promising anything,” he returned with a grin. “Be sure to tell Mr. Schultz about your new husband. Word will spread fast if it’s fed to the right person. Maybe I’ll stop in to see Willoughby.”
    Pierce posted the letter to his brothers first. He had written to ask Chad to send a letter of credit on their bank account in care of general delivery, Rolling Prairie, Montana, as quickly as possible. He also gave a brief explanation of what had happened to him and where he was staying. He made no mention of his marriage.
    Pierce left the post office and wandered down the street, introducing himself to each shopkeeper he encountered along the way. When he came to the town’s only saloon, he entered through the swinging door, ambled up to the bar, and ordered a beer. Though the day was still young, several men sat around a table, shooting the breeze.
    The bartender slid a beer toward Pierce and asked, “You new in town, mister?”
    “You could say that. I married the owner of the Circle F.”
    The man’s mouth dropped open. “You married Miss Zoey? Rumor had it she was set to marry Samson Willoughby.”
    “Can’t believe everything you hear,” Pierce said. “Reverend Tolly married us over a week ago. I’m looking to hire competent ranch hands for the Circle F. Know