Look, But Don't Touch

Look, But Don't Touch
Sandra Chastain

Photographer Cat McCade has no problem admitting she has a weakness for half-naked men. After all, she's gained national recognition for her men's underwear ads. Still, she's always very careful not to let any man get too close–until she has a fateful run-in with Texas Ranger Jesse Dane. And then she can't get him out of his clothes fast enough.…Jesse Dane is a loner–and likes it that way. Only, since he shared a one-night stand with a sexy stranger, he's been out of sorts, suddenly wanting more.… So when he learns he's getting a new assignment–to serve as a bodyguard to powerful businessman Sterling Szachon's new photographer– he's relieved. Until he realizes that the body he'll be guarding is the one that shared his bed…

“If you need your shirt back, I’ll take it off,” Cat offered

“No, that’s okay. It looks much better on you, anyway,” Jesse managed to say.

“It’s very soft,” Cat continued, sliding her fingers up and down the flannel fabric. “It feels…good.”

He let out a deep hot breath. This sexy stranger seemed to be sending him an invitation, but he couldn’t be sure. He desperately tried to hold on to his last thread of control. Then he saw the tops of her breasts peeking out of the shirt. The thread snapped. He groaned and did what he’d been aching to do all night. He kissed her.

Silently, hungrily she responded with a passion that scared him. She kept her eyes open as he slid his hands beneath the shirt. He started for a moment when he realized he was touching her bare skin—and nothing else. Then she slid her arms around his neck and melted against him, making him forget everything else. Tearing his lips away from hers for a moment, he gave her one final chance to back out. “Are you sure about this?”

She met his eyes, her gaze sure and direct. “That I want you? Absolutely. That it’s smart? Not at all.” She held out her hands to him. “So you better stop talking, Ranger, and make love to me before I change my mind….”

Dear Reader,

Every woman dreams of the perfect lover. As readers, we like these tortured heroes, the bad boys and the loners. Mitchell Dane, the responsible older brother, was the tortured hero in my last book, Bedroom Eyes. Now Mitchell’s little brother, Texas Ranger Jesse James Dane, can kiss his days as a bachelor goodbye. Jesse hides behind his badge, living by rules and regulations. Or he does until Cat McCade sweeps into his life and turns it upside down.

Photographer Cat McCade has found a technique to take ordinary men and make them extraordinary on film. And sometimes she even takes them home for a one-night stand. But she never lets anyone get close to her—until she meets Jesse….

A traffic accident, a wild thunderstorm and an even wilder attraction take them both to a place they never expected to be. And that’s just the beginning….

I hope you enjoy Look, But Don’t Touch. I love to hear from my readers. You can write to me at P.O. Box 67, Smyrna, GA 30081, or e-mail me at sandrasmy@aol.com.

Enjoy,

Sandra Chastain

Books by Sandra Chastain

HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION

768—BARING IT ALL

843—BEDROOM EYES

Look, But Don’t Touch

Sandra Chastain

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Contents

Chapter 1 (#ufd7f1daa-e027-59c8-9f9d-6239162df2dd)

Chapter 2 (#u57215aed-894e-587b-a65a-d67849f9033d)

Chapter 3 (#u790df211-3d85-5279-ba38-cedb1b4d7902)

Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

1

CAT MCCADE drove her gleaming black Harley into the restaurant parking lot, gunned the motor, then let the bike glide to a stop in a no parking area. She peeled off her black helmet and shook out a waterfall of straight blond hair that fell to her shoulders. Once she’d dismounted, she removed her jacket, slung it over her shoulder, and strode toward the front door on long, leather-clad legs.

It was Friday night and Cat could feel the eyes on her as the noisy patrons of the Atlanta Tex-Mex restaurant turned to look as if a television star had entered their midst. She ignored them, searching for Bettina, who would have a table and margaritas waiting. She could always depend on Bets.

From the time Bettina had hired Cat as a photographer for the models in Bachelor in a Box, they’d been friends. She’d gone on to become very successful in supplying phantom bachelors for women without permanent mates. The client selected a photograph of her fictitious lover and a “relationship” was established wherein Bettina sent gifts, letters and placed telephone calls to make it all seem real. The only problem was, on her off hours Bettina used her matchmaking efforts to arrange real relationships for her family and friends. And that included Cat.

“Cat! Over here.”

Waiters and patrons stood back, allowing Cat to move through the crowd to her friend who was waving at her from a table in the corner. Bettina was drinking something pink and slushy. At the other place was a mug edged in salt and filled with an icy-green liquid.

Cat sat, picked up the mug and took a sip. “Not bad, Bets.”

“Best margaritas in Atlanta and you know it.”

“Ah, Atlanta, our hometown. No place like it. But by Monday I’ll be in San Antonio along the River Walk, drinking the south-of-the-border variety.”

Bettina gave her a look of bemused disbelief. “You just got here and now you’re leaving? Of course you are. You never stay anywhere long enough to unpack.” She tilted her head. “You know, I often wonder what you’re running from.”

“Not from,” Cat amended quickly. “To. There’s a whole world out there, ready and waiting for me to find it.”

“And what’s it?”

That stopped Cat for a moment. “It is my job,” she said. “I’m a photographer. I enjoyed the architectural shoots and nature studies but, quite frankly, I got tired of being an assistant, and I’m just not into bugs and wild animals. What can I say? I like the comforts of hot water and good food. And being able to sleep in my own bed at night—alone.”

“So that’s why you photograph men, to sleep alone? I’ll admit you’re a challenge to my matchmaking abilities. But I’m up to it. After all, I found my brother, Mitchell, a wife who’s willing to travel with him.”

“I repeat. I’m not looking.”