by Wendi Darlin
Forty-two year old, Nora Lambert struggles daily to keep the family ranch running smoothly and has learned to rely on young, sexy Cole Shanahan. It’s been eighteen months since her husband passed, and the loneliness is killing her. More and more often, her sexual fantasies include Cole, but he hasn't shown any interest in her.
Out of respect for her late husband, Cole has denied his attraction to Nora. Until his identical twin, Jesse, makes a move that Cole never dared. Finding the woman he wants in his brother’s arms spurs Cole into action. He's willing to let Nora have both him and his brother. Once. Then he's staking his claim.
She broke the kiss and stepped back, dragging air into her screaming lungs. This wasn't Cole. Jesse Shanahan was a stranger. A complete stranger who looked like every fantasy she'd ever had. But it was all an illusion. Her fantasies had been about Cole. A man she trusted. A man she'd known for years.
"I don't even know you."
A wicked flicker lit his eye, and a slow smile spread across his face. "Pretend I'm him." He reached for her again. "He may be blind, but I'm not." He hauled her back into his arms. "Cole's never known what was good for him. Always waits too long for what he wants. And you..." His lips feathered kisses along her cheek. "I know my brother wants you."
Her head wobbled from side to side as she pushed away again and reached for the common sense that still lurked in some hidden corner of her mind. She moved back, but the table wedged into the lower curve of her bottom, and in one step, Jesse's hard thighs pressed into hers. She shook her head. "No. He doesn't want me. I'm old enough to be his--"
"Lover?" His laugh was low, seductive. Need gathered in her core and rolled through her womb as she forced herself to look him in the eye. "Yes, you're old enough to be his lover." Jesse bent his mouth to hers and slid a hand over her breast. Her nipple sprang up to greet his palm. His lips brushed hers, teasing with just the slightest dip of his tongue. "Cole wants you. And so do I." The heat of his hand was no match for the thin fabric of her blouse. "You want us, don't you?"
Her throat constricted too tight to form a single syllable. Both of them?