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4- Mr Lee The CEO

5 years later.

It had only been twenty-four hours since his arrival, and already Mr. Lee was

having a really hard time remembering why he had come to Winding River. For

a man known for his razor-sharp mind and powers of concentration, it was a

disconcerting experience. He’d certainly never had any trouble in the past when

it came to focusing on the best interests of his clients.

Now, however, he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the woman sitting

beside him in the stands at the rodeo arena. That was truly saying something,

given the level of activity going on in the center of the ring and the cheers

sounding all around him. His mind was drifting in all sorts of wicked directions,

just as it had the night before.

Okay, he told himself, all that proved was that he was a healthy, virile male

who’d been without intimate female companionship for way too long. Whose

mind wouldn’t wander just a bit around a woman like Hazel? Pleased with

theassessment of his state of mind as being perfectly normal, he gave himself

permission to study her even more intently.

Hazel’s dark-eyed gaze was fixed on the current bronc rider with total

absorption. Her cheeks were bright. Her hair, which was caught up in a red and

white bandanna, had surprising auburn highlightsin it. At the moment, assome

man she apparently knew tried to stay on the back of a particularly wild horse,

she appeared to be holding her breath. When time ran out and he wasstill solidly

in the saddle, her cheer almost deafened Mr. Lee. Eyes shining, she faced him.

“Did you see that? He did it. That’sthe toughest horse in the competition

and Randy stayed with him. Amazing.”

“Amazing,” Mr. Lee echoed, but his comment had nothing to do with the

winning rider.

Her gaze narrowed. “Are you even paying attention?”

“Absolutely. Your friend won.”

“He’sleading, at any rate. There’s another round of competition,” she said,

excitement still shining in her eyes.

It wasthe most unguarded she had been around Mr. Lee since they’d met.

Seeing her like that, filled with enthusiasm, her expression open, laughter

glinting in her eyes, made him want things that were impossible. It had probably

been safer all the way around when she’d kept him at a cool distance. The

temptation to kiss her was almost too much to resist.

“Want something cold to drink?” he asked, needing to put some space

between them. Being in a state of semi-arousal for the past hour was beginning

to get to him.

She feigned exaggerated shock. “You’re willing to go off and leave me here

all alone for a few minutes? Are you sure you trust me not to steal the wildest

horse in the stables and flee over the Canadian border?”

“Actually, no, but since the horses are otherwise engaged and I have the car

keys, I’m not nearly as worried about it as I might be if the circumstances were

different.” He was still rather proud of the way he’d managed to get those keys

away from her and into his own pocket.

“How do you know I don’t have a spare set?” she retorted.

He gazed directly into her eyes, a look he’d perfected in the courtroom. It

commanded total honesty. “Do you?”

She hesitated, then sighed. “No. And just for the record, I resent like crazy

the fact that you manipulated those keys out of my possession.”

He grinned. “I didn’t wrestle you for them, Hazel. You handed them over so I

could drive.”

“Right, after you gave me some very sincere hogwash about how you’d been

just dying to test-drive a car like my mother’s.”

“You bought it, didn’t you?”

“Long enough for you to get behind the wheel,” she agreed. “Then I

remembered that my mother’s car is a very nondescript Chevy with eighty

thousand miles on it.”

“And what I told you wasthe absolute truth,” Mr. Lee insisted. “I’ve never

driven anything like it.”

Hazel rolled her eyes. “Yes, that I can believe.”

He chuckled. “Do you want something to drink or not?”

“A soda,” she said finally, fanning herself with the program. “Orange, if they

have it.”

The action only drew attention to the perspiration beaded on her chest.

Mr. Lee’s gaze seemed to be riveted to the exposed skin. He swallowed hard

and resisted the urge to nab that program and use it to cool off his own

overheatedflesh.

“Lots of ice,” she added. “I’m sweltering out here.”

“Want to come with me?” he asked, forgetting all about hisintention to give

himself a break from her nonstop assault on his senses. “Maybe we can find

some shade somewhere and cool off.”

She seemed to debate that, then finally nodded. “Let’s go.”

Mr. Lee let her lead the way to the refreshment stand, ordered large sodas

for both of them, then glanced around until he spotted a spreading cottonwood

treewith a patch of shade beneath.

“Over there okay?” he asked.

“Perfect,” Hazel agreed.

Seemingly obliviousto the fact that the ground was more dirt than grass, she

sank down, accepted her drink, then sighed. “Thisis heaven,” she murmured.

She snagged an ice cube from the drink, held it at the base of her throat and let it

slowly melt. The water trickled across her flushed skin, then ran between her

breasts.

As he watched her, Mr. Lee’s throat went dry as a parched desert. Not even

a long, slow swallow of his drink had a cooling effect. He was beginning to

regret inviting Hazel to leave the stands with him. Hell, he regretted

accompanying her to the rodeo in the first place. It was testing him to hislimits

to keep his handstohimself.

He could have been in a nice, air-conditioned motel room, a beer in his hand,

and all those damning Café Tuscany figures right in front of him. That’s where

he ought to be, not out here on the verge of sunstroke and filled with more lust

than he’d felt in the past twelve months combined, all directed at a woman who

was totally untrustworthy, perhaps even more so than his own mother.

“Something wrong?” she inquired.

Her expression was all innocence as she let another ice cube melt, holding it

a little lower, a little more provocatively thistime. She’d stripped off her blouse

when they’d first arrived, giving him a bad moment or two before he’d realized

that she was wearing a tank top beneath. Between her deliberately provocative

actions with that ice and the perspiration, the already revealing tank top was

damp and clinging in a way that left very little to Mr. Lee’s overheated

imaHazeltion.

“Not a thing,” he claimed. “Why?”

“You look a little flushed.”

“Is that so surprising? It must be ninety-five degrees out here.”

“But it’s a dry heat,” she countered.

“Heat is heat.”

Pure mischief lit her eyes. “I could help you cool off,” she offered.

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