She stared, not sure whether she was annoyed at the “pretty little thing” epithet or surprised at his mind-reading ability, since she’d been wondering the same thing.
“My whole family is in the kitchen through that door. I could ask you the same thing. What’s a patronizing cowboy like you doing in my mother’s dining room knowing my name when I don’t know yours?”
The grin widened, and he strode into the room, dark denim jeans fitted nicely on his hips, a subtle plaid shirt tucked at the waist, and a casual brown sport coat giving him a touch of western class. He reached her in three strides, his cowboy boot heels beating a soft, pleasant cadence on the oak floor. “Alec Morrissey,” he said, holding out his hand. “Alexander if you’re mad at me.”
The name left her stunned again. She knew it. Anyone who followed rodeo knew it. But he couldn’t be the Alec Morrissey—the one who’d won three PRCA titles and then dropped out of sight half a dozen years ago . . . She shook her head to clear it before she could blurt a question that would sound stupid. She kept her hand over her scar by pretending to scratch her temple and took his hand to shake it. His firm, dry masculine grip sent a small warning shiver through her stomach.
“I’m not,” she said.
“Not what?”
“Not mad at you.”
“Ah. Even if I’m patronizing? Or if I admit I’m not a real cowboy? Which I’m not, by the way. I wear the boots because they’re comfortable.”
She wanted to tell him she’d only forgive him if he promised never to call her a pretty little thing again. Her father had called her that, but not in a proud papa kind of way. It had been more a “you’re my delicate little flower, don’t worry your pretty little head over such things” kind of way. But based on the confidence this man exuded, Joely doubted she could tell him to do or not do anything.
“Well, I can’t lie. I’m disappointed about the cowboy part. But if you swear to quit being patronizing, I won’t be mad.”
He pulled out a chair beside her and sat backward on it, comfortable and easy, looking as if he’d lied about not being a cowboy and straddled seats and saddles every day.
“Ma’am, if calling you pretty is patronizing, I can’t swear because any promise I made I would break every time I saw you.”
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Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Excerpt from Smolder copyright © 2016 Karen Erickson.
Excerpt from Hard Ever After copyright © 2016 by Laura Kaye.
Excerpt from Wild at Heart copyright © 2016 by Tina Klinesmith.
Excerpt from The Bride Wore Starlight copyright © 2016 by Lizbeth Selvig.
IGNITE. Copyright © 2016 by Karen Erickson. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books. For information, address HarperCollins Publishers, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.
EPub Edition MARCH 2016 ISBN: 9780062441188
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062441195
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