stick. As she was pulling her hair back in a quick ponytail, he turned and came to a stop, watching her. His hungry gaze traveled down her body, and though she realized her posture emphasized her breasts, she didn’t stop until her hair was out of her face. It had been so long since a man looked at her with admiration and desire and need. Surely she’d be flustered—if it wasn’t for the beer.
She took the cue stick from him and smiled, saying, “Thanks,” knowing he’d chosen for himself.
He laughed and put several quarters in the table to release the balls. She watched him, drinking her beer and having a handful of mixed nuts from a basket on the table. Normally, she never would have eaten from food that could have been sampled by anyone. Tonight, it didn’t matter. She was a new woman.
“Do you have a name, cowboy?”
He’d been leaning over the table to rack the balls, but he straightened and looked at her from beneath the brim of his hat. “Nate.”
No last names. She felt a thrill of danger. “Emily.”
“Pretty.”
Though she normally would have blushed, this new, adventurous Emily smiled. “Thank you. But then I had no say in it.”
“I wasn’t talking about your name.” His voice was a low drawl, his eyes narrowed and glittering.
Had it gotten warmer in here? she wondered, unable to stop looking at him. Though there were several windows, they were streaked with rain, and it would be foolish to open them. Her sweater felt like it clung to her damply.
“So, Nate,” she said brightly, “are you going to take me for all my money?”
“I’m a high roller,” he said. “I might bet all of a dollar.”
She snorted, then covered her mouth.
“Or I might bet a kiss.”
She stared at him, still smiling, playing his game and not thinking. She was so tired of thinking. “Is that the prize if I win or what I owe if I lose?”
He chuckled. “Depends, I guess. Am I worth it?”
She couldn’t seem to take a deep enough breath. “I don’t know. Guess we’ll have to play and find out.”
They didn’t speak during the game, only watched each other play. Emily had to be honest with herself—she was watching him move. She liked the way his jeans tightened over his butt, how she could glimpse the muscles in his arms when he stretched out over the table. He took his hat off, and the waves in his black hair glinted under the light. The tension between them sizzled, and she wouldn’t have been surprised to hear a hiss. They walked about the table, about each other, as if in a choreographed dance of evasion and teasing. This was flirtation as a high art, and he was far better at it than she’d ever been.
But the beer was helping. When it was her turn to lean over the table to line up a shot, she knew he was watching her hips, knew what, as a man, he was thinking. And although she would never have sex with a stranger, the thought that he desired her gave her a heady, powerful feeling. This new Emily, in the next stage of her life, could be lusty.
But not with a stranger, she reminded herself.
And then she lost the game, as she knew she would. She still had so many balls on the table as he sank his last one and slowly straightened to look at her.
“I’ll take that kiss,” he said, coming around the table.
Oh God. She was breathless already, looking up and up into those narrowed green eyes. He stopped right in front of her, her breasts almost touching his chest. She could feel the heat of him, the tension, the tug of danger, but it wasn’t exactly him she was afraid of. She was drunk enough that she was afraid what she might do if she tasted him.
But she was also drunk enough to try it. As she stepped forward, their bodies brushed. His inhalation was sexy in itself, letting her know that she could affect him. She waited for him to lean down over her, arched her neck—and then he put his hands on her waist. She gasped as he lifted her off her feet and set her on the edge of the pool table. With wide eyes, feeling breathless, she watched him, unaware that she kept her legs pressed together until he leaned against them.
He smiled, she smiled, and then she parted her knees, holding her breath as