She hoped she could get across the street without falling on her face. She couldn’t believe Logan had kissed—then licked—her hand. And in public, no less. Heat stung her cheeks while a hotter heat curled through her middle. Wait until tonight, Mrs. Cartwright. I’m gonna kiss every inch of your body. His words echoed through her mind as anticipation twirled down her spine. But past the expectation of what would happen tonight when she and Logan were alone in the main house, an odd catch hung in her chest. He had defended her to the banker. Had insisted she be included in the dealings and that her name be on the deed beside his. The tension in her chest grew. Her throat closed up. All she could ever remember wanting was to leave her father’s ranch. That dream had kept her working day in and day out. For ten long years, she’d anticipated saying good-bye to her denim pants and hello to feminine clothing. To dresses and hats and frilly things. Now a wiggle of doubt dampened that anticipation.
