Wild Enough For Willa. Ann Major

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      “Me, rude? That’s rich.”

      “Ungrateful too,” he accused.

      She seemed to make an effort to concentrate on what he was saying instead of on what she was so afraid of.

      “My aunt used to say I was a brat. And maybe I was…sometimes. I used to follow her when she didn’t know it. I was too curious about what went on.…There were the most fascinating rumors about her, you see. And I was way too lively just to accept what she said as gospel.” She was silent. “As if anything she could say would be gospel.” Her voice changed. “I am a brat by day…and brave…but by night…I’m afraid of the dark.”

      “You chose an odd line of work, considering that fear.”

      “Ha! You don’t listen any better than—”

      “And you’re afraid of me.”

      She shook her head. “Not of you…”

      She didn’t fool him. If she wasn’t afraid, why did she keep glancing from him to the bed? Why was she pressing herself against the wall?

      He advanced upon her, to prove his point. “Feel better after your bath?” he asked silkily.

      But she didn’t back away as he’d expected. “My brain still feels…weird.…Like the thoughts are drifting…not connecting.”

      “Why don’t you get some sleep then,” he suggested.

      “What will you do?”

      “Watch over you.”

      “Just watch?”

      “Disappointed?” he inquired softly.

      She blushed. “Do you ever stop with the sex talk?”

      “That might be hard…with you around. I can’t seem to forget I found you higher than a kite tied to a bed.” He picked up the red polka-dotted dress. “This little number was shrink-wrapped to your body.” He wadded it up and threw it at her. “What kind of girl wears black mesh hose and a dress like this two sizes too small?”

      Unfolding the suggestive garment, her eyes rounded. She jiggled the dress and made the flounces bounce. “Oh, my!”

      “Not much dress. Lots of girl,” he said.

      “It isn’t mine!” She threw it at him and stalked toward the bed away from him.

      “You were quite…fetching in it,” he taunted darkly.

      Another blush. She sank into a chair.

      “You want me to be some idiot you can fool with your fake blushes and little-girl smiles and sly glances.”

      “I know about you, too. You brought me here…because you thought I was that kind of girl. That’s why you won’t let me go. I wonder…If I did what you wanted, would you let me go then?”

      He stared at her, scared to the quick and yet darkly thrilled, too, by her tantalizing suggestion.

      She shut her eyes. “It’s all so extraordinary…like a bad dream.” Her hollow, fearful tone floated to him. “Brand said he’d marry me. At least I think he did. But…”

      She rubbed her forehead, her eyelids and strained to think. “Only…only…maybe he did ask me to put that awful rag on. I thought he took me to Mexico to get married.”

      “Some wedding dress.”

      She stared about the room as if seeing ghosts, seeming to hear and see him only vaguely. “He gave me…Oh, dear…No…He couldn’t have drugged…” Frowning, she stared at the dress he’d dropped on the floor.

      “What?”

      “Was I really wearing that?”

      He nodded.

      “Brand loved me.”

      A low moan rose in her throat. Her hand went to her belly. Then her face changed as if she’d come to a decision. Big blue eyes widening on his strong face, she looked up at Luke. There was something so proud, so desperate and so responsible in her gaze. He felt a fierce, insane need to protect her.

      “What’s wrong?” he demanded, feeling ridiculous.

      “If Brand did that…” She rubbed her temples. “He wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t even listen. He won’t stop now, either.…He’s very determined. He’s rich, powerful.…”

      “So am I.”

      She stared at him. Her eyes lit up, as he’d known they would at the mention of his fortune.

      “You have to help me. I have to get out of Laredo away from Brand—tonight.”

      “No way.”

      “I can’t let him find me.” For an instant she looked on the verge of panic.

      He remembered his old friend, the pregnant law student who’d felt she had to run away from Baines.

      As this girl studied him, she seemed to regain a bit of control. After a while, she even forced a slow, sexy smile. “What if…if I was the kind of woman you think I am…and you want me to be…the girl of your most lurid comic book dreams?”

      He sucked in a breath. Here we go.

      “We’re alone. In your hotel room.” Her gaze drifted suggestively to the bed. “What if I’d do anything? Absolutely anything? Would you help me?”

      Anything. Pictures of women playing in provocative love games flipped in his mind. The pictures changed. Every face, every lewd position was of her.

      Heat spiraled inside him. “One minute you play a whore, the next a virgin. Don’t tempt me unless you mean it.”

      “Or the big tough, rich guy will grab me?” She trembled, hugging herself. Her blue eyes grew even more enormous. Then she licked her mouth with her tongue. “Anything,” she purred.

      The imaginary pictures of her flipped again. He had a fleeting sensation of shame. She was in some sort of trouble. What kind of heel took advantage of a desperate woman, even a whore, who needed his help?

      A man who came from the gutter. A man who used every opportunity for his own gain. A saint would have been tempted by her, and he was no saint.

      She was so damn pretty she made every male sense knife sharp. His bones melted. His weaker nature won. Down in hell his name on that list blazed brighter. “Anything?”

      She nodded.

      “What do I have to do?”

      “Money. And I need a ride north.”

      “How much money?”

      Her СКАЧАТЬ