Excerpt:

"You know," Dallas heard herself saying, trying to fill up the silence and she wasn't sure why, "it feels so good out here. The sun hasn't been out for days." She closed her eyes. "It's wonderful."

"It is at that," she heard Matt say slowly and knew at once he just wasn't talking about the weather.

She opened her eyes slowly and looked at him. He wasn't smiling. He was just looking at her and she had never seen anything like it. She had on layers of clothes to keep out the cold. But nothing seemed to be able to keep out his imagination. Dallas sat very still as she watched him watch her.

How could this woman look so incredible in umpteen layers of clothes? He'd never know. But he knew it would be lovely to slowly peel away each layer. Her turtleneck hugged her long neck that surely was as creamy as the skin on her smooth cheeks. Planting a kiss, tasting with a warm lick would only be the beginning. He had plans that could last a lifetime. Would she tremble beneath his touch, beneath him when he did that? He thought so. This woman. She was strong. But there was a delicate femininity there that sparked the fire he had felt each time his hand had grazed her. He'd never had a woman respond so quickly to him. But then he'd never responded so quickly to a woman. He could feel himself, warming, growing even in the twenty-degree weather. He could tell from the look in her eye she was responding now. Had he only been hoping or had he noticed a swelling in her breasts back in the barn as she faced him. No. It had been there. He could only wish for now that she was aching for him the way he wanted to kiss those nipples, suckle them to a pleasured peak for as long as she could stand it. Who was he kidding? For as long as he could stand it. For as long as he could control himself before exploring her pleasure, stroking her, making her ready, until she could accept him, completely, when he buried himself in her.

Would she cry out when he took her with him? Oh, yes. He wanted to give her what he had a feeling--and he wasn't sure why--she'd never had. God, how he wanted her. Three hours. He shook his head. He'd known her three hours and he wanted to be damn sure she was his. Matt, what are you thinking?

"Matt." He blinked and realized she was talking to him. "Earth to Matt. Hey, what are you thinking?"

He walked over to her slowly. "I," he began slowly. "I guess we've done enough," he finally said, his eyes never leaving her mouth. "We'd better be heading back."

Why did she suddenly feel so warm? No. Hot.

She was halfway out of the saddle before she realized he was reaching her down with that effortless strength and pulling her against him. Gently. Very gently. The heat that surrounded them could have melted the snow, and she heard Matt sighing almost contentedly and inhaling slowly--

Honeysuckle.

--right before his mouth brushed hers with the softest of kisses. Once. Twice. His lips tasting, asking. And then he rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. He would have given almost anything at that moment to have tasted more, deepened that kiss, explored every nook of that sweet, sweet mouth.

But he stopped. He wouldn't hurry. Instinctively he knew. This was too special.

He only opened his eyes when he heard her giggle.

"You know," he said teasing, "laughing is not doing wonders for my ego."

"Oh, Matt," she said letting her head fall against his powerful chest, caressing the muscled expanse with her cheek so she heard him inhale sharply. "It's your mustache," she said smiling and letting a delicate finger dance over his lip. "I've been wondering since last night if it would tickle."

"Since last night?" he said with a puzzled expression.

Last night! Smooth, Dallas. Technically, in the female-sense, you hadn't met him last night.

"Well, I..." she began and then stopped, ducking her head.

"Don't tell me you and the good doctor compare that kind of details about new clients," he said laughing. "Next thing I know you'll be passing me notes in biology class." Then he frowned. "Tell me you didn't get this information from headline news at Bantam's local diner."

Dallas was so relieved she didn't know how to respond.

"Well, try to do me a favor. Please," he said softly cupping his hands on her shoulders, "try not to believe everything you hear from a certain waitress."

What had Angie implied? Lady-killer. Gold-digger. She stiffened. Just slightly. But he felt it.

She saw the sadness in his eyes just before she heard it in his voice.

"It's a long story."

"Private," she said, filling in the blank.

"Thank you for understanding," he said quietly.

Dallas took the opportunity to smile and change the subject. "Would you look at that?"

"I don't want to look at anything but what I'm looking at right now," he said, thinking very seriously about another kiss. Then he felt her hands pushing him gently away.

All right. For now.

"Clouds," he heard her say and saw her pointing off to the north. "I think this sun is going to be short-lived. Could even be more snow."

"You know I think you're right," said Matt grabbing his tools and eyeing the sky. "We'd better get back. I could use a bowl of that warm vegetable soup."

And a very cold shower.

Author BIO: You've probably thrown away something Marti Siddons has written.

A professional writer for 25 years, Siddons wrote direct mail, a career she enjoyed until it occurred to her one day that most of her work was probably ending up in the trash. Why else do they call it junk mail?

So she switched to romance and has never looked back.

Courting Oklahoma is Siddons's fifth book and her first to be published electronically. Siddons is a native Oklahoman and her romantic tales are set in the fictitious town of Bantam situated in northeast Oklahoma where anything can happen -- and does. Her characters are the good, imperfect people you meet every day searching for the perfect love, and finding it through hard work, a gentle touch, and a hefty dose of humor.

Give Courting Oklahoma a try. Then watch for Waltzing Tennessee and Loving Missouri. Is there a pattern here?

Siddons is married and the mother of two teenage boys and two naughty pugs. She loves nothing better than a good book (or a good man -- her husband, of course) on a rainy afternoon.