Suggest? Just what did he think he could suggest? “What do you mean?”

“I’ve got to make a trip to Paris in the next week and I think it’s only fair to take you with me. I’ve seen your artwork. I know you’d enjoy taking in the museums and the sights. It’s the perfect place for an artist to visit.”

Paris…What he offered her, the world she’d always dreamed of, as though it were an easy thing to give her…it was impossible. She could never afford that trip.

A shameful heat filled her cheeks and she ducked her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t afford to—”

With a low growl he forced her chin up so she had to look him in the eyes again. “I may not be a man with honorable intentions toward you, but if nothing else, I’m still a gentleman. The trip and anything on it will be at my expense. All you need do is join me.”

“A free trip to Paris?” She couldn’t help but look this handsome gift horse in the mouth. He answered with a nod.

Paris. How could she refuse? He’d chosen the one place in the entire world she couldn’t say no to.

“All I have to do is go with you?” Her heart was beating so fast that she had to force herself to calm down.

“Yes, come with me. Give me my thirty days to court you as you deserve.” He sounded so solemn, so serious about a silly wager, but the heat simmering in his eyes was full of promise and it scared her a little.

He won’t get in, she promised. He won’t. I’m safe.

“Okay. I’ll go with you.” The words came out and she felt as though she were living in a strange sort of dream. She was going to Paris with Wes Thorne. Was this all really happening?

“Good. I can stay with you, help you with Volt if you like.” He didn’t move away from her when she tried to get past him again.

Callie needed to get away from him. Just because she’d agreed to go to Paris with him didn’t mean she wanted him to follow her around all day. She wanted to be left alone, left in peace. Not being intimidated by a man who was the personification of sin when she’d just sworn yesterday to avoid men like him. This bet was likely just a way for him to amuse himself. He had to be playing with her. Nothing more. There was no way a man like him would have any interest in her, and she didn’t want him to. Wes would want a tall, polished model, a thin society beauty, not a short, curvy girl in jeans with calloused hands. It just didn’t make any sense for him to be interested in her. He had to be really bored out here if he was paying attention to her. I must be the only female for miles if he’s paying attention to me. It was a depressing thought.

“I’m sorry. I’m not in the best mood. You should probably just go.” Please go away, she prayed. If she had to ask again, she feared her plan to avoid men like him wouldn’t last. She’d be a sucker all over again and throw her heart into something only to get hurt. No more Ms. Nice Guy. I have to protect myself, don’t I?

The intense wolfish gleam in his eyes softened and he inched toward her. Before she could move, he trapped her against one of the posts bearing an old saddle she’d been oiling earlier that day. The thick scent of the hay, the tang of the oil, and the exhale of Wes’s breath consumed her, shrinking her universe into this one infinite yet enclosed span of time. He rested one hand on the saddle by her waist, so close, but not quite touching her hip. His other hand curled under her chin and gently lifted it up so she had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. His gentle but firm touch made that newly built brick wall around her heart quake.

No, I can’t let him get inside my head. She had to control her emotions and her response to him.

“Shed your tears for him, Callie. You are allowed that much,” he whispered. His warm breath fanned across her lips as his face inched closer to hers.

“Allowed?” She bristled and flattened her hands on his chest, pushing hard. He didn’t budge.

“Yes.” He smiled, almost coldly. “You’re allowed to cry when your heart is broken, but just know that when you’re ready the entire world awaits you.”

Wes cupped her cheek, closed the distance between them, and pressed his lips to hers. It was no chaste kiss. His tongue slid inside, stroking hers, and she jolted against him. He assaulted her senses, his hands suddenly everywhere, sliding slowly over her back, tracing her hips, caressing the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck. Her blood thundered in her ears, like the resounding beats of a mustang’s hooves upon the fields on the other side of the mountains.

His teeth sank into her bottom lip, the little sting making her gasp in shock and a traitorous zing of awareness and pleasure rippled through her. He coaxed, teased, and played with her mouth and seemed to be memorizing her body with the way his palms shaped her curves and slopes. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. She had to stop this. She needed to…When she started to tremble he suddenly stepped back and rested his forehead against hers, their shared breaths an equal measure of soft pants.

“You aren’t ready. Not yet.” He brushed a lock of her hair back from her face and tucked it behind one of her ears. The gesture was intimate and tender. She trembled.

“Ready for what?” she demanded, but her tone was breathless.

“For me. But you will be. I have thirty days to prove it to you. Unfortunately I have to return to Weston for a few days but I’ll come back and pick you up.” He withdrew from her personal space, gazing for one minute longer at her before he strode out of the tack room and away from her.

Callie lifted her fingertips to her lips, her hand shaking. What had she done? Wes had kissed her. Kissed her. Her first kiss. It was not the way she had planned it, and it was not from the man she wanted, the man she loved. Her heart shuddered in her chest. It felt as if she had betrayed Fenn, but she hadn’t. A person couldn’t betray someone they had never been in a relationship with. That was the biting reality she had to accept. She may have loved Fenn, but he didn’t love her back, not romantically. She would only ever be a little sister to him. And that had shattered her heart into a thousand pieces. What would being around Wes do to her if she couldn’t stay cold and unmoved by his passion?

What am I going to do?

The phantom press of his lips still lingered against her own, as though he’d branded her with that single sensual kiss. She hated herself for the way her body had melted into his, and the crawling need just beneath her skin that craved his touch, his caress. But she didn’t want it, didn’t want him. And she shouldn’t.

Wes Thorne was dangerous. Frighteningly intense and too much of everything. There was still that unspoken word humming in the air around her. He’d never said it, but she’d felt it in his kiss.

Soon. It was only after she’d started back to the house that she realized if she went to Paris with Wes, she might miss Fenn and Hayden’s engagement party. Had he done that on purpose? Given her a distraction to keep her from facing something that would grind her heart to dust? Maybe Wes wasn’t so heartless after all…or he was cunning beyond her wildest dreams.

Chapter 2

The Gulfstream G150 slid into the air, climbing high into the late afternoon sky. The clouds above the Colorado mountains were thick and painted in a range of tangerine and pomegranate reds. Wes leaned back into the soft white leather seat of his family’s private jet and watched the wings of the plane slice through the heavens.

He could still taste Callie, addictive, sweet, so breathless and innocent. Until he’d sat down in the plane, his entire body had been rigid with pent-up passion. He shouldn’t have kissed her, not so soon, not when he’d have to leave for a few days before seeing her again.