Callie Burgess had one goal: to put a bulltet in Lincoln McAllister. And when she finally met the gunfighter, his sardonic smirk and devil-may-care attitude had her itching to pull the trigger. But someone had beaten her to it, and honor demanded she wait until he healed before she extracted her revenge. A wait she didn't relish. But as the wagon train wound its way west, Linc's smoldering gaze and rich Louisiana accent would their way into Callie's soul, leaving her the one shot through the heart.
To Linc, Callie was nothing more than a brat who was in way over her head. To keep her out of trouble, he needed to distract her-in the best way a man knows how to distract a woman. That meant slow dances and sensual baths. Her tomboyish ways and smelly buckskins certainly wouldn't make the task enjoyable. Yet when Callie pinned up her frizzy mop of curls and donned a revealing dress, Linc realized she was anything but boysih...and that his play at seduction was no longer a game.
To Linc, Callie was nothing more than a brat who was in way over her head. To keep her out of trouble, he needed to distract her-in the best way a man knows how to distract a woman. That meant slow dances and sensual baths. Her tomboyish ways and smelly buckskins certainly wouldn't make the task enjoyable. Yet when Callie pinned up her frizzy mop of curls and donned a revealing dress, Linc realized she was anything but boysih...and that his play at seduction was no longer a game.
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