The Next Mrs. Blackthorne (Bitter Creek Book 6) by Joan Johnston

more!”
    He whirled and headed for the door without another word. When he reached it, he looked back at her and said, “You can have the room down the hall. If you’re still here when I get back, I’ll figure you’ve decided to finish our bargain tonight.”
    She was out of bed with the sheet wrapped around her before he’d slammed the door behind him.
     
    North balled his hands into fists because they were trembling so badly. Joss had been a Venus lying beneath him, and he’d been harder and hotter than he could remember being since he was a teenage boy fantasizing about what sex would be like with his first woman. Until she’d dropped that little bomb.
    I’m a virgin.
    Sonofabitch. He still ached—hurt—with wanting her.
    He paced the length and width of his study, wondering whether he should go back down the hall and kick her out of his house right now. This was going to end badly. For him. And for her.
    He shouldn’t have listened to that sob story Kate had told him about how her mother and father were fated to be together. He must have been mad to come up with this particular scheme to stop Clay’s wedding. Buying up a controlling interest in Bitter Creek stock had only been possible because Libby had insisted North be one of the trustees for Kate’s trust, which held shares of Bitter Creek that Clay had given to his daughter, and for which North controlled the voting power.
    North had figured that Clay would be the one to come crawling on his knees begging for mercy. He’d planned to sell the stock back to the Blackthornes in exchange for Clay calling off his wedding.
    Jocelyn had shown up instead.
    He should have sent her away. He wanted her too much. Had wanted her ever since Libby had thrown her at him a year ago in Wyoming. He’d come away from that encounter admiring Jocelyn’s refusal to submit to him—and her willingness to defend herself.
    His hand went reflexively to the cheek she’d slapped. He had a feeling the oh-so-proper Jocelyn Montrose didn’t often resort to violence. But the instantaneous attraction between them had been undeniable, and she must have recognized in him the same threat he’d seen in her. The power of this one person, above all others, to destroy everything he believed about himself.
    Which was why he’d done everything he could to scare her off. He’d tried to forget about her, but the feel of her skin, the fragrance of her hair, the possibility of a life with her, had crept into his dreams. He’d imagined touching her. Holding her. Putting himself inside her.
    None of which required getting emotionally involved with her. He’d seen how love had ruined his father’s life. He was never giving a woman that sort of power over him. But last year, when he’d turned thirty-five, he’d decided it was time to marry. He wanted children. He wanted their laughter and the pleasure of raising them in a house where there was joy.
    He’d been looking for the right woman to be his partner when his sister had brought Jocelyn Montrose through the front door of his Jackson Hole cabin. She was exactly the type of female he liked, with her generous bosom and long legs. She was undeniably beautiful, with a porcelain complexion, aquiline nose, and full lips.
    He’d felt like he’d been poleaxed when he’d looked into her eyes, which reminded him of the bluebonnets that covered the hills of his Texas ranch in spring. Like bluebonnets, her eyes were a soft lavender, rather than blue, as their name suggested. He’d felt his body come alive. Felt his insides quiver with anticipation. In a different place and time, he would have fought tooth and claw to make her his mate.
    Perhaps it was his feral, animal response to her presence that had raised her hackles and made her instinctively wary.
    What he hadn’t liked was the way she’d looked down her nose at him, as though he were some alien beast, with beast being the operative word. He’d been chopping wood, and granted, he