A Cowboy in Manhattan(2)

He gave her the slightest of nods. “Katrina.”

“Reed,” she nodded in return, a fuzzy hitch coursing through her chest. It was trepidation, she told herself, a visceral reaction based mostly on his size and strength and overall rugged appearance.

Just then her sister Mandy burst down the stairs. “Katrina!” she cried, elbowing Seth out of the way and pulling Katrina into her arms.

Katrina hugged her sister tight in return. The next youngest after Katrina, Mandy was the one who had always tried to understand Katrina’s passion for dance.

Mandy released her, scanning Katrina from head to toe. “You look gorgeous.”

Katrina knew it was a compliment. But when her family called her pretty, she couldn’t seem to help hearing useless. Pretty didn’t get you anywhere in Lyndon Valley.

“Thank you,” she told her sister, self-consciously smoothing back the wisps of blond hair that had escaped from the twisted knot at the back of her head. Maybe she should have gone with sneakers and blue jeans after all, or perhaps skipped her makeup this morning. She could feel her family sizing her up and finding her frivolous.

“You remember Reed?” Mandy gestured to the big man standing silently in the background.

“Certainly,” said Katrina.

Her gaze involuntarily met his again, and a shiver ran through her body, momentarily making her knees go weak. For a woman with a dancer’s balance, it was a ridiculous reaction. What was the matter with her?

She tried to drag her gaze from his, but for some reason, it stuck like glue.

“I can’t wait for you to meet Caleb again,” Mandy rattled on in an excited voice. “You probably don’t remember much about him, since he left Lyndon ten years ago.”

“I know he’s Reed’s twin brother,” said Katrina.

Reed’s nostrils seemed to flare when she uttered his name. The men were fraternal twins, not identical. She remembered Caleb as a smaller, less intimidating version of his brother.

Good thing.

For Mandy’s sake.

Katrina caught her sister’s expression, and saw that her eyes were sparkling with unadulterated joy.

“Congratulations,” she put in belatedly, giving Mandy another tight hug.

“We’re thinking of a late-fall wedding. You know, after Dad is up and around again. You’ll be a bridesmaid, of course.”

“Of course,” Katrina forced out a laugh. She wasn’t wild about family togetherness. But Mandy loved it, and Katrina wouldn’t do anything to mar her sister’s big day.

“You’ll look so beautiful in a bridesmaid dress.”

“It’s what I do best,” Katrina joked, keeping the smile pasted on her face. For some reason, she darted a look at Reed and saw his eye-roll.

He obviously thought she was being conceited. Fine. Easy for him to judge. She was willing to bet not a single person in his entire life had ever called him useless. Around here, he’d be revered for his strength and his hard work. He didn’t have to live with being pretty.

Not that he wasn’t attractive. In fact, there was an appealing dignity to his craggy features. His chin might be overly square, and his nose slightly crooked, but his eyes were an intriguing, silver-flecked gray, and his full lips were—

Wait a minute. She gave herself an abrupt mental shake. What on earth was the matter with her? Reed was a tough, hulking, strong-willed cowboy. He could out-macho anyone in Lyndon Valley, and there was nothing even remotely appealing about that.





Since Reed Terrell was alive, conscious and male all at the same time, he had the hots for Mandy’s sister Katrina. It didn’t mean he had to act on it, and it sure didn’t mean he’d succeed even if he tried. Everything about the woman said she was out of his league, from the wispy updo of her wheat-blond hair to her sexy boots, the clingy slacks and shimmering blouse in between.

When he’d met her earlier at the Jacobs ranch, her earrings had been dangling strands of gold, silver and diamonds, while a matching necklace glimmered against her dainty cleavage. She should have looked comically out of place on the ranch, but she didn’t. She looked like a princess inspecting the commoners, someone to be revered and admired, then left untouched. Which was exactly what Reed intended to do.

Now he entered the foyer of his own family’s ranch house, shutting the door against the gathering dusk, another long day of work behind him. For years, Reed had lived in the spacious, two-story house with his exacting father. Though his father was dead, out of habit, Reed placed his hat on the third hook from the left and straightened the mat beneath his feet. There was a place for everything, and everything was always in its place in the Terrell household. His father had prized practicality, but also quality, so the hardwood floors were clear maple, the furniture was custom-made and the kitchen appliances were top-of-the-line, replaced every ten years.