Bound, Branded, & Brazen by Jaci Burton Page B

you?”
    “No,” she lied. “I have family here that I’m visiting. I live in Dallas.”
    He nodded. “The big city.”
    She laughed. He was gorgeous. Broad shoulders, killer dimples. “So, Cody, would you like to dance?”
    Before he had a chance to answer, some guy came up and whispered in his ear. Cody went pale, turned back to Valerie and tipped his hat.
    “Some other time, ma’am.”
    He backed away from her as if she had some kind of communicable disease.
    What the hell was that about? Did the guy remind Cody he had a wife back home or something? If so, then it was a good thing he’d declined, because if she found out he was married she just might have to kill him.
    Fine. He wasn’t the only guy in the place. She turned and hit on another, who politely declined. So did another. And another. And she saw a round of hands cupped to ears and whispers and fingers pointing to her.
    Irritation set her foot tapping, and it wasn’t in time to the hard-driving beat of the music.
    She faced all the guys leaning against the wall, her hands on her hips. “Okay, look. I’m a reasonably attractive woman who can hold a decent conversation. And trust me, I’m a great dancer. So what the hell is so wrong with me that has you all running in the opposite direction whenever I come near?”
    “They think you belong to me.”
    Oh. Now it all made sense.
    She turned to face her ex-husband with murder on her mind.

five
    mason fought a smile as valerie leveled a murderous expression in his direction. Oh yeah, she was pissed. He’d seen it coming as one guy after another shot her down.
    But hey, it wasn’t his fault that nearly every cowboy in town still thought of her as his wife. And to the cowboy code of honor, that meant hands off. They weren’t going to step in his territory.
    “You did this on purpose.”
    He shook his head. “I had nothing to do with it.”
    “Tell them it’s not true.”
    “What’s not true?”
    “I’m not your wife anymore. We don’t have a connection.”
    “Don’t we?”
    Her gaze narrowed. “Mason.”
    “Valerie.”
    She poked his chest. “Now you’re deliberately trying to piss me off.”
    “Would I do that?” He turned and walked away, and even over the deafening noise and music he heard her squeal of outrage. He grinned and picked up a pool cue, leaned over the table and took his shot, then grabbed his bottle of beer and took a long swallow
    “She’s pissed at you.”
    Mason slanted his gaze to Walker Morgan, one of his best friends. “Yeah.”
    “You intending to do something about it?”
    “Nope.”
    “Man, that’s a hornet’s nest you’re stepping into.”
    “Maybe.”
    “Speaking of hornets,” Walker said, motioning behind Mason.
    Someone tapped Mason on the shoulder. He turned, already knowing who it was. Valerie never was one to back down.
    “If none of these other guys have the balls”—and she’d said “balls” loud enough for every person in Dirk’s to hear it—“to dance with me, then you’re going to have to do it.”
    Mason laid his cue across the table, turned and grabbed her hand, dragging her onto the dance floor. “Fine. Let’s dance.”
     
     
    valerie’s eyes widened as mason wrapped his arms around her and drew her against him. The heat from his body soaked into her. Disoriented, she missed a step, while he stayed steady.
    What the hell? She’d thrown that out as a challenge, knowing he wouldn’t take her up on it. Mason didn’t dance. Not once during all the years she’d known him had he ever danced with her, including their wedding day.
    But as he held firm to the small of her back, he was relaxed and moved against her with an easy rhythm.
    She cocked a brow. “You son of a bitch. You can dance.”
    “Never said I couldn’t. Just don’t like to.”
    “So what the hell are you doing dancing with me now?”
    He gazed down at her and smiled. “I feel kind of bad that no one else will.”
    She tried to pull away from him, away