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ROPED INROPED IN

Harlequin Blaze
October 2011
ISBN: 0373796536

It all started with a game of dress up…

From “the same old Nicki”
Until now, tomboyish and workaholic ranch owner Nicki has suppressed her sexy hankerings…despite the tempatation of her hottie-hot-hot ranching  neighbor, Shane Carter.

To Saloon Sexpot
It took a makeover and a Halloween party to transform Nicki from nice to naughty.  But when a mix-up finds Shane slipping into her bedroom—and her bed!—Nicki decides it’s time to take her new look (and Shane) for a spin!

To Vampire Victim, Pirate Wench and Harem Hottie!

Now Nicki is ready to play, and Shane can’t help but want more.  And more.  But this is supposed to be a temporary arrangements… So what happens to their role-playing hanky-panky when they run into their real selves?

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Excerpt from ROPED IN

After Shane read the note, he couldn’t believe it.

Meet Nicki at the Wade house?

Nicki?

After their argument, he wasn’t sure what to think.

Then he remembered how she’d looked at him at first, just as any woman looked at a man.  And that costume she was wearing…

Nicki really had grown up.

Had her anger with him only been a prelude to more?  He’d known women like that in the past—ones who liked to argue as foreplay. 

Maybe Nicki was the same.  He had a note right here in his hand to suggest it.

He glanced at his old watch.  Twenty minutes ‘til ten, the meeting hour.

Hell, if a woman wanted him to come over, he wasn’t about to say no.  First of all, there’d been an undeniable attraction between them from the start, sparks in the way they’d talked to each other, anger or not.  Besides that, he was used to cleansing his mind with sex, and Lord knew he needed to forget about everything that’d been waiting here for him in Pine Junction on the Slanted C. 

In the end, an invitation was an invitation, right?  Even if it was from the girl next door.

It just went to show that nothing ever stayed the same, so who was he to deny her?

Blanking his mind to any mental arguments, he went to Main Street, where he’d parked his Dodge truck.  The gas lamps lent a timeless bend to the night, along with the Old West facades of Pine Junction—some of which had been used as Hollywood sets, back in the day.  Planked sidewalks, saloons and rising hills that led to an abandoned silver mine gave him reason to get in the mood for this outlaw-meets-saloon-girl date.

All the while, he kept thinking of Nicki in that costume, Nicki heating him from boot to hat with just a long look upon first seeing him…

Nicki’s surprising invitation.

As he drove to the W+W, the faint moonlight painted the white fences along the dirt road that led to the ranch.  When he got there, he parked near a copse of pine trees, far out of the open.

Before leaving the truck, he checked his cell phone.  A few minutes to ten.She had to be waiting.

First bedroom on the second floor.

All he kept seeing was Nicki Wade’s light green eyes and how they’d heated him up with the fire in them.

But then his conscience came rushing back.  Nicki’s dad, who’d been downright friendly and courteous to Shane when a whole lot of people in Pine Junction hadn’t been, might not have appreciated this.  There’d been too many older, well-played daughters around the area for Shane to have been the father favorite.  Nicki had been so young that there was no doubt Justin Wade had felt secure in the knowledge that he wouldn’t be dealing with Shane in that way for a good, long while, if ever.

But Nicki was able to make her own decisions, and she had asked him over.

Another look at the time told Shane that it was ten o’clock on the nose.

He got out of the truck, took care with closing the door, then walked the rest of the way to the house, where the entrance had been left unlocked. 

Opening it, he crossed the threshold, into a hallway just off a well-used parlor where the Wades used to greet their guests.  He’d been in the tarnished crystal-lamp and old velvet sofa-decorated room only a few times, during neighborly parties when he’d been a kid, eager to leave and run around outside where his parents and big brother couldn’t keep an eye on him.  Nicki had been much the same—fidgety while the adults had sat around and talked, her ill-fitting dresses always askew before the first hour was up, even though she hadn’t been doing much.  Just sitting on a couch had seemed to be enough to put her in a state of dishabille.

She’d been cute, he recalled, but it’d been a sweet kind of cute.  The kind that went against the nature of the bachelor he’d eventually become—one who’d seen how miserable his mother had been during marriage and decided that it wasn’t for him.

Second floor, she had written.

He quietly mounted the stairs, freezing every time a creak sounded under his feet.  His pulse thumped, competing with the Grandfather’s clock in the parlor.  Both sounds seemed to flood the house.

When he’d finished with the steps, he moved toward the only room that had its door closed then rested his hand on the old-fashioned crystal knob, turning it.

Inside, the darkness was cut only by a sliver of moonlight from the gaped curtains.  It was enough to show him the lower half of the bed, where his saloon girl rested.  She lie face down, her dress gathered near her hips in a bunch of satin, her long legs still encased in the fishnet pattern of her stockings.

He heard breathing, even and soft. 

Nicki—she hadn’t been kidding with that note.

Waiting for my outlaw to break out of his cell and be with me, his woman, the saloon girl with the fishnet stockings and garters…

But had she already fallen asleep?

Well, yeah.  That’d make sense with the scenario in the note.  The outlaw coming back to his hideaway and finding the saloon girl in his bed, waiting for him.

Someone who’d allow him a little escapade, just for a night, he reminded himself.

He pulled up the bandanna over the lower half of his face, moved to the bed, hearing her sigh, then shift restlessly in a rustle of that maddeningly alluring dress.

Yup, he was a bad, bad man on the run from the law, and he was going to show this woman just how dangerous meeting with him could be. 

He went to the foot of the mattress, rested his hands on her stocking-covered ankles.  Warm under the silk.Delicate.

Easing his hands higher, he coasted his thumbs over her calves.

She sighed again, wiggling her hips.

Lust, pure and simple, bolted through Shane, making his cock hard, and he moved his hands higher, over the backs of her knees, over her thighs, where her stockings ended and garters began.

He heard her breathing hitch, and he knew the game was really on now.

And if this was how Nicki wanted it, he was ready to play it.

“Don’t make a sound,” the outlaw whispered, reaching under her dress.  “Not a word….”

 

In the haze of a dream—the aftermath of the fantasy she’d had before drifting off to sleep, one that seemed incredibly real—Nicki felt the outlaw’s hands on her rear end, cupping her.

Don’t make a sound.  And she didn’t as her face rubbed against her bedcovers, her hands pressed against the mattress.  Her breasts were flattened beneath her, making them feel swollen, raw against the quilting.

In that foggy dream, she felt the bed dip as the bandit climbed onto it, heard the box springs creak.  His legs brushed the outside of hers as he straddled her.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here,” he said in a deep western drawl, a whisper above the stillness of the night….

 

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From the book: Roped In
By: Crystal Green
Harlequin Special Edition
Publication Date: 11/11
ISBN: 0-373-79653-6
Copyright: 2011
By: Harlequin Books S.A.
R and TM are trademarks of the publisher.
The edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
For more romance information surf to: http://www.eHarlequin.com