Genell Dellin

“Then she bent her head over at the waist and tossed her head around to separate the curls.
The elevator stopped and she heard the door open. She straightened up to find some big guy in a ball cap and sunglasses right in her face, charging into the elevator before she could even get out of it. He had both hands full of carry-out bags—Mexican food, judging from the smell.
She looked at them, her mouth watering. Yep. Enrique’s. The best in town.
He whirled around to punch the door-close button.
“Hey,” she said. “I’m getting off here.”
Some girl outside in the lobby yelled, “We know it’s you, Chase. You shouldn’t lie to us.”
Startled, Elle looked at the guy’s face and saw, just before he reached for her, that it really was Chase Lomax in ragged shorts and flip-flops.
He grabbed her up off her feet and bent his head. Found her mouth with his.
“Wait for us,” another girl yelled. The sound of running feet echoed off the marble floor, slid to a stop. “Oh, no!”
Kissing her, without so much as a “Hi, there, Elle.” Burning her up. She tried to struggle but he had both her arms pinned to her sides.
And suddenly she wanted to stay right where she was forever because the shock was wearing off and she was starting to feel. A lot more than she ever had before.
The door slid closed. The girls began banging on it.
“We know your room number, Chase, honey,” they yelled. “See you there.”
Loud giggles.
“We’ll show you a real good time.”
The elevator moved up, the voices faded away. But Chase kept on kissing her.
She had to make him stop it. Right now. Who did he think he was, anyway?
Somebody who could send lightning right through her whole body, that’s who. Lightning so strong it shook her to her toes.
He had to stop this now. But she couldn’t move any part of her body. Except her lips. And her tongue . . .
When he finally let her go she pulled back and away, fighting to get a handle on her breathing.
“What’s the matter?” he demanded.
Her blood rushed through her so fast it made her dizzy.
“You’re asking me? It’s more like, what’s the matter with you? How’d you get the idea you could get away with kissing me like that without even bothering to say hello?”
She touched her lips. They were still on fire.
“You have got a helluva nerve, Chase Lomax.”
He grinned at her as he took off his shades. He hung them in the neck of his huge, baggy T-shirt that had a bucking bull and rider with Git’R’Done written above it. He wore ragged denim shorts and flip-flops, for God’s sake. Chase Lomax was known for always being starched and ironed, custom-booted and hatted.
“I asked if you’re all right because you were bent over double shaking your head when the doors opened,” he said. “Like you were in pain or something.”
“I was drying my hair.”
He stared, then burst out laughing. “Oh, well, then.”
His laugh was contagious but she wouldn’t let herself join in. He could not get away with this scot-free. He’d shaken her up pretty good.
“Oh. I see. You thought I needed help, so you just grabbed me and kissed me senseless. Is that how you treat somebody you think’s in pain?”
He grinned that slow, charming grin of his again. “It made you feel better. Didn’t it?”
He held her gaze and wouldn’t let it go. She must be a sight. She could feel heat in her cheeks, so her face must be red. Plus she was gasping, trying to slow her breathing. And her heart-beat.
“You nearly scared me to death to try to get rid of those girls. And it was all wasted. They’re coming to your room.”
Something flashed deep in his brown eyes.
“Now you’ve hurt my feelings. I don’t think it was wasted,” he drawled. “I liked that kiss.”
― Genell Dellin, Montana Gold

“Her face was flushed and dusty, her hair was falling out of its restraints all around her face in ragged curls, and sweat trickled down in front of her ears.
“You’ve never looked more beautiful,” he told her with a grin.
“Keep it professional, buddy,” she said.
Her tone was stern, but she grinned back. Her eyes shone at him.
His heart flipped over. She looked at him like she loved him. Did she?
If she did, was he going to break her heart? He was a master at that. He’d never failed yet.
“I don’t know if you oughtta enter that contest in Vegas,” he blurted.
Her smile vanished. “You think I’ll bolt? Or get skunked?”
Mentally, he gave himself a thousand lashes with a bullwhip.
“No, ma’am,” he said.
“Then what?”
He tried, but he couldn’t lie to her. “It’ll put you back in the game,” he said, “and then you’ll be gone.”
Chase wheeled his horse and rode away before he could see her reaction. He didn’t want to know. Whatever it was, he wouldn’t have a clue what to do about it.”
― Genell Dellin, Montana Gold