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outlet mall for last year’s throwaways.”

      “Think about the jobs a new mall would bring,” Vivian Hartwell said.

      “Yeah, then all our kids wouldn’t have to leave Sugar Hill to find jobs,” a young mother shouted.

      “My filling station would probably pick up business,” Eke Turner added.

      “But with it comes more crime,” Jake Tippins, Hannah’s husband and now town sheriff, pointed out.

      The mayor beat his gavel, yelling for order, but the women from the Prayer Wagon burst through the door, then stomped across the crowded room, bouncing homemade protest signs and banners in the air. “Stop the development! Leave Sugar Hill be.”

      Jean Ann Tucker, spokeswoman for the group, raised a bull horn. “We don’t want this mall. It’ll bring sleazy nightclubs and strip joints and those awful bars where people get shot!”

      Anita Haynes flopped a hand dramatically over her bosom. “There’ll be raping and pillaging in the streets!”

      Rafe grinned to himself, grateful for all the drama queens. He opened his mouth to voice his opinion when Suzanne Hartwell suddenly shot to the front of the room. What the hell was she doing?

      HEAVENS ALIVE! Suzanne had heard enough. These people were about to create a panic like nothing she’d ever seen. “You’re imagining the worst, when you should consider all the benefits this development will offer.” Suzanne kept her voice calm, well aware half of the town was shooting daggers at her while the other half nodded her on.

      “Many positive things result from a new development. While petty crimes might increase slightly and a few nightclubs might spring up close to the mall, they’ll be so far out of town they won’t detract from the culture of Sugar Hill. The retail jobs the various establishments would offer and tourists they would attract would be invaluable. Just think of the tax revenues and employment opportunities. Construction, security positions, opportunities for web designers, buyers, decorating firms, the list is endless. And don’t forget that the town’s economy has been sliding the last few years. All the downtown stores need updating. More people moving to town would be a major boost to the economy. Consider the advantages you can give your children with added revenues. You can finally put computers in the schools and modernize the classrooms.”

      Rafe McAllister stalked toward her, propped his hands on his hips and glared down at her. She was certainly passionate about her arguments, but she was on the wrong damn side of the issue. “You don’t even live in this town, Ms. Hartwell, so why do you think you have the right to tell people what to do?”

      A few patrons in back amened his comment. Suzanne twisted sideways, jerking her head to stare into his eyes. He towered over her, but she refused to let him intimidate her. “Half of my family lives here, Mr. McAllister. Besides, I’m simply pointing out things to help everyone make an informed, rational decision.”

      “Your opinion doesn’t matter,” Rafe said, jamming his face angrily in hers. “So why don’t you flit back to the city you love so much, and let the people who live in this town decide what they want?”

      “Here, here,” a few angry locals shouted.

      “Let’s have some order,” the mayor yelled, slamming his gavel down again. “I say we table this discussion for now. Everyone has brought up some interesting points. I’ll appoint a committee to explore all sides, and we’ll reconvene in a week to discuss it further.”

      The crowd applauded, then began to disperse. Rafe pulled Suzanne outside. “Why are you nosing in here when this is none of your business? You don’t live or work here.”

      Suzanne tensed, glancing down at her arm where his fingers held her. Had he figured out she was working for Horton Developers?

      Part of her wanted to admit the truth about her intentions, to lay her cards on the table, but the other part wasn’t prepared for his wrath. She needed to focus before she revealed her part in the development. She needed to get to know him better and find that weak spot.

      If he had one.

      Landing this promotion would give her the independence and the financial security she wanted. And she’d make her father proud, something she’d strived for all her life. She couldn’t let Rafe interfere because he was too stubborn to realize that change was good.

      “I suppose you’re so simpleminded that you’d return to the way the town was a hundred years ago. Forget the cars and electric appliances, let’s all drive wagons and wash our clothes by beating them on the rocks!”

      “Simpleminded? You think ranching is simpleminded work?”

      He stepped forward, planting the hard wall of his chest against her. Fury blazed in his eyes as he pinned her still. “Just who do you think you are? Do you even have a job or do you let Daddy pay your bills?”

      Suzanne’s breath wheezed out, but she didn’t back down. “My father does not support me, Mr. McAllister. I work…in an office and raise money for charities.” Not exactly a lie. She did help her father host several charity parties.

      “You have no idea how beautiful the mountains are around here, do you?” His gruff voice skated over her nerve endings, his words evoking images of him and mountain peaks, riding off into a sunset, bareback and bare chested.

      Good Lord, what in the world was wrong with her?

      “The mayor has given everyone a week to think about this. Did you know it’s my property that developer wants to destroy?”

      “Really?” Suzanne played dumb.

      “Really.” Rafe’s fingers were still wound tight around her arm. “I dare you to come out and see my spread, ride across the land, smell the air and the mountains and then advocate turning my ranch into a damn shopping mall.”

      “All right, I will.” Suzanne aimed her seductive smile at him. The dare would be a piece of cake. While she was riding the land, she’d be able to point out all the advantages to selling. And before the week ended she’d have him eating out of the palm of her hand.

      There was no way she’d lose a dare to this infuriating man. Or anything else.

      No matter how sexy he was….

      Chapter Four

      Rafe stared at the puffy white clouds billowing in the velvety blue sky of North Georgia, breathing in the smell of the grass as his hand tightened around the wooden sign he’d just finished carving. After he and his ranch hands had finished their morning rounds, Bud had suggested boarding horses and offering riding lessons as a way to increase the cash flow. Although Rafe agreed it was a decent idea, the thought of teaching irked him. As a teen, he had spent endless grueling hours working on a dude ranch, aiding the snobby, rich girls who’d wanted to learn to ride but who had balked at the smell of a horse and the feel of his hands on them after hours. And asking them to muck out a stall had been the kiss of death.

      That was what the hired hands were supposed to do. His hands.

      Except for one blonde, Cecilia. She had a way of making a man want to do the dirty work for her. Cecilia hadn’t minded his hands on her at all. In fact, she’d liked playing with fire, and had danced the flame right underneath her father’s patrician nose, teasing her father and him with her bold defiance. But her walk on the wild side had burned Rafe. Bad.

      He’d been weary of that type of woman ever since.

      The noonday sun beat down on him as he grabbed a hammer and strode down his long driveway to the mailbox beside the road. He drove the post into the ground and angled it so anyone driving by could read it. The newspaper ad started today, as well.

      Filling his lungs with fresh, clean air, he gazed out over the two hundred acres of green pastures. The scents of hay and horses and grass filled his nostrils like an aphrodisiac. The only thing that smelled sweeter was a woman.

      Suzanne

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