LITMIR.BIZ

      Jesse had meant the kiss to show Sarah that he was too wild for a woman like her. Maybe even scare her a little, so she’d stop looking at him with those damn stars in her eyes.

      So much for that idea.

      The kiss had stunned him.

      That was the only word for the torrent of emotions it had sent tumbling through him—tenderness and protectiveness and a raw, hot need. He wanted to pull her close, safeguard her from whatever had put that lost look in her eyes, keep her safe and warm and…loved.

      Now he was the one who was scared. What was he thinking, kissing a soft, fragile, forever kind of woman like her? She deserved far better than a rough lawman with wild blood running through his veins.

      Trouble was, he didn’t want to stay away from her. Damn his hide, he wanted her more than ever….

      Taming Jesse James

      RaeAnne Thayne

      RAEANNE THAYNE

      lives in a graceful old Victorian nestled in the rugged mountains of northern Utah, along with her husband and two young children. Her books have won numerous honors, including several Readers’ Choice awards and a RITA Award nomination by the Romance Writers of America. RaeAnne loves to hear from readers. She can be reached through her Web site at www.raeannethayne.com or at P.O. Box 6682, North Logan, UT 84341.

      To Maureen Green, Chris Christensen, Jennifer Black and Carrie Robinson, my sisters and my best friends. For all the clothes, parenting tips, yard sales and side-aching, milk-out-of-your-nose laughfests we’ve shared over the years. I love you!

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 1

      Jesse James Harte was in deep, deep trouble.

      “You playin’ or are you just gonna sit there lookin’ pretty?” the scrappier of his two opponents asked with a fearless smirk.

      Jesse glared at his cards, trying to figure out his options. They didn’t look any cheerier than they had a few moments ago.

      “Come on. We’re waitin’.”

      “Yeah, yeah. Hold your water.” He looked at his hand one last time, then back at the two troublemakers across the table from him. His throat was parched and he needed a drink in the worst way, but he didn’t dare turn his back on these two desperadoes. Not for a second. The two of them were as terrifying as any hardened criminal he’d ever come up against.

      Finally he knew he would have to do something, and quick. He set down the only possible card he could—jack of hearts. As soon as it left his hand, he knew it was a mistake. A triumphant shout rang through the room and a queen of hearts slapped onto his jack.

      His niece Lucy gave a shriek of excitement. “Ha! That was her last card. You lose, Uncle Jess! Told ya you’d never be able to beat Dylan at crazy eights. She’s the best. The absolute best.”

      “The winner and still undefeated champ-i-on!” Dylan Webster, Lucy’s stepsister of less than a month, jumped from the chair across from his desk and did a little hip-jiggling victory dance around his office.

      Jesse leaned back in his chair and watched their celebratory gyrations out of narrowed eyes. “You cheated. I can’t figure out how, but you must have cheated. Worse than a couple of Wild West card sharks, that’s what you are. Come in here after school acting all sweet and innocent, saying you just stopped in to say hello, and then you bilk me out of two Snickers bars. You think I don’t know what’s going on?”

      Dylan batted her eyes at him. “Who, us? Would we do something like that?” That one was going to be a heartbreaker just like her mom, when she put on a few more years.

      “I ought to lock you both up right now and throw away the key,” Jesse growled. “Teach you to mess with the Salt River chief of police.”

      The girls just giggled at him.

      “Come on. Best two out of three.” He scooped up the cards and started shuffling them. “Better yet, I’ll teach you how to play a real game. How about blackjack?”

      “We already know how to play,” Dylan assured him.

      “How about acey-deucy? No? Sit back down, then.” He did a fancy little flourish with the cards that sent them cascading between his hands in a rainbow. His little card trick was rewarded with two pairs of wide eyes.

      “Cool!” Lucy exclaimed. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

      “Years of practice, beating the pants off your dad. He stinks at cards. Always has. And you can tell him I said so, too.” He grinned and she giggled back.

      “Will you teach me how to do it?”

      “Sure, if you give me the first bite of that Snickers bar.”

      Before she could answer, a knock sounded at the door.

      “Yeah?”

      His dispatcher, receptionist and all-around pain in the neck shoved open the door and stood in the doorway, all four feet ten inches of her.

      “Chief, you got company,” Lou Montgomery barked.

      “Yeah?”

      “Says it’s important.”

      “Send him in, then.”

      “Her,” a new voice interjected. Compared to Lou’s rotgut-rough voice, this one was as soft and smooth as water rippling over rocks. He knew that voice. He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, the girls beat him to it.

      “Ms. McKenzie!” they shrieked in unison, and rushed to greet his visitor, their fourth-grade teacher. She gave them a strained smile but accepted their hugs graciously.

      “What are you doing here?” Dylan asked.

      The pretty teacher looked uncomfortable. “I…I just had some business to discuss with Chief Harte.”

      Something she obviously didn’t want to share with two nosy little girls. Before the terrible twosome could interrogate her about it, Jesse stepped in. “Ladies, I’ll have to take a raincheck on the poker lessons. Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning out the stalls at the clinic, anyway?”

      They both groaned, but picked up their backpacks. “Bye, Ms. McKenzie,” they chimed in unison.

      “Thanks for the Snickers bars.” Dylan smirked at Jesse on her way out the door.

      As soon as they left, Ms. McKenzie raised a delicate eyebrow at him. “Poker lessons?”

      Despite that sexy voice of hers, the schoolmarm tone still made him feel as if he’d just been caught throwing spitballs. He cleared his throat. “Uh, guilty. What can I say? I’m a bad influence. Sit down. How can I help you?”

      After a brief hesitation, she walked across the office with that slight, barely perceptible limp that had been driving him crazy with curiosity since she’d

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