Title: Legacy of Lies
Series: Hell’s Valley #1
Publisher: Crimson Romance
Garrison Taggart doesn’t have time to deal with touchy-feely junk like “trust issues” or “feelings.” His dad’s health is waning and the family’s Wyoming ranch is being sabotaged. Too bad his supernatural ability to tell when someone is lying has been exactly zero help in ferreting out the betrayer so far. So, when sweet schoolteacher Sara Lopez raises concerns about his son being bullied, who can blame a guy for getting a little testy?
The last thing Sara needs is any more attention or gossip after her recent breakup with big-shot rancher Hank Brand. So her attraction to surly but sexy Garrison, Hank’s rival, is entirely unwanted. When she uncovers an insane plot to kidnap the Taggart boy and throws herself in harm’s way to protect him, Garrison must risk his deepest secret and his own life to save the people he cares for the most. But will his heroics cost him everything?
But she couldn’t ignore the new hand that caught the door right before it closed. Big, square fingers with trimmed, work-roughened nails blanched as they gripped the metal. A flannel sleeve encased a thick wrist dusted with reddish hair. Sinews flexed as he pushed open the door. Hail Mary … yum. He crossed the worn linoleum floor in three strides, bringing with him scents of horses, hay, leather, and hardworking male. She inhaled, triggering fond memories of watching rodeo competitions featuring a certain steer roper. Too bad her pleasant thoughts didn’t jibe with the scowling man standing next to the chair. Keep it professional. Stay cool. You can do this. Sara wiped damp palms on her black slacks and stuck out her hand. “Mr. Taggart, I’m glad you were able to take time to meet about Zach.” His strong hand wrapped around hers. Rough skin against soft. His ruddy, weathered skin against her light olive tone. Opposites all around, but damned if their hands didn’t look perfect together. Garrison Taggart was anything but old. He must be, what, a few years past thirty now? Other than some weatherworn fine lines around his eyes, nothing else about his fit physique indicated he was anything but in the prime of his life. When a twinkle lit the gold flecks in his eyes, her neck warmed up. Her thick hair, worn down today, had been a bad idea, if the heat building up at the nape of her neck was any indication. He relaxed into the seat across the desk from her. The chair next to him remained conspicuously empty. When he rested a dusty-booted ankle on his knee and balanced his Stetson on his solid thigh, she sighed and made a superhuman effort not to stare at the taut denim covering his … Wow, she needed to stick with the parent-teacher routine and ignore how the guy made her ovaries tremble with excitement.
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