The Rancher and The City Girl (Tempting the Rancher 1)

Tripp stood in front of her table, his eyes full of the turmoil she’d seen before.

“Ah…yes?” she asked, not knowing what kind of game he was playing.

Shadows played over his face. Those bright eyes locked on her, he offered his hand. “Would you care to dance with me?”

She looked at his hand. An offering. The gesture alone was enough to chase away that cold, hollow spot in her chest. “You know I don’t know how to dance.”

“And you know I do.”

“I won’t embarrass you?” she asked. The ache in her throat came out in a way she wasn’t expecting because she’d meant embarrass him dancing, but when she looked around and saw several pairs of eyes on them, particularly two women with a scowl, she realized that question was more loaded than even she anticipated.

“There’s not a thing about you that would embarrass me.”

That warmth that only Tripp had been able to plant in her chest bloomed. Like the heater kicking on in a cold house, warming it just a little more than the time it’d kicked on before.

“Okay,” she said, and took his hand.

He led her around the table and out toward the middle of the dance floor. The band was amazing, playing at a faster tempo than she realized. Several other couples were moving and spinning, and Charlotte instantly realized this was a bad idea.

“I…I can’t do any of this,” she said, glancing around. All the other dancers were intimidating with their moves. What was more intimidating was that she couldn’t be lost in the crowd, either. She and Tripp were front and center, and anyone paying attention could easily see them. Scrutinize. Judge.

She could feel eyes on her.

On them.

She took a step back, then another…

But Tripp wouldn’t let her retreat. He held her hand and tugged her back toward him. She yipped a little, half laugh, half in shock, from the sudden movement and ran into his rock-hard chest. But he didn’t waver. His right arm snaked around her waist and gripped her tight while his strong left hand cradled hers and held her in a dance position.

She put her other arm on his shoulder, and felt all his hard muscles and warm skin beneath his shirt.

“Now, I know this isn’t in your nature, but you’re going to have to follow my lead,” he said with a flirty smile. “We’re going to start slow. One-two step, back one. Fast, fast, back.” He said, showing her with his feet. She watched his boots and followed what he did.

Fast, fast, back.

After a few moments, it became easy. Simple. She hadn’t stepped on his feet once this time. Even found herself swinging her hips a little to the music. Better yet, Tripp was leading her around the dance floor like they’d been doing it for years.

“Doing great, darlin’. See, not so hard, right?”

She smiled. “This is fun,” she admitted.

“Good, now look right here.” He tapped her chin while still holding her hand. She looked up to meet his eyes. “Because it’s about to get Western.”

Before she could ask what that meant, the band hit the chorus, the fiddle player striking fast and the tempo quickening.

Tripp spun her out and brought her back, then twirled her twice, and she laughed. Her hair whipped in the fast spin movement, her dress catching some air and floating around her thighs.

He twirled her again, then around the other way, pulling her back for a moment to do a few of the steps he taught her. Just enough for her to catch her breath before he spun her out once more.

She laughed, and when he brought her back in and kept to the simple steps while the band hit the next low in the song, she was breathing hard and her face hurt from smiling so wide.

“My God, you’re beautiful,” he said loudly over the music, yet so calmly that his words melted her heart.

He swayed her to the music, and she’d never been so attracted to a man in her life. Tripp was controlled in all things, it would seem. From the way he ranched, to the way he danced, to the way he made love.

The latter had her thinking of their encounters over the last few weeks. With that control came rules. Still, he was trying. Seeking her out on purpose. Not embarrassed, as he stated. And that was something she found herself believing in. At least in that moment.

He spun her once, then brought her back again.