The MacKades Collection: The Return of Rafe MacKade / The Pride of Jared MacKade / The Heart of Devin MacKade / The Fall of Shane MacKade. Nora Roberts

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СКАЧАТЬ And on. Rafe’s dazzled gape followed them down to the razor-sharp skyscraper heels in that same bold color.

      When he managed to lift his gaze, he saw that the skinny black top was as snug as the skirt, and dipped down low over firm, unfettered breasts. It took him a full ten seconds to get to her face.

      Her mouth was red and wet and curved. Beside it, the little mole was a bold exclamation of sex. Her hair was tousled, and her eyes were shadowed and heavy. She looked like a woman who’d just climbed out of bed, and was willing to climb right back in.

      “Holy hell.” It was Shane’s strained muttering that jolted him out of shock. “Is that Regan in there? She is hot.”

      Rafe didn’t have the strength to put much behind the punch. When he gained his feet and moved to the door, his head was still buzzing, as if he’d been the one to take the blow.

      “What are you doing?”

      She moved a shoulder, causing the excuse for a blouse to follow her stretch. “I thought I’d play a little nine-ball.”

      There was something stuck in his throat. “Nine-ball?”

      “Yeah.” She sauntered over to the bar, leaned an elbow on it. “Going to buy me a beer, MacKade?”

      Chapter 12

      If he kept staring at her, she was going to lose it, Regan thought. She was already so nervous that if her clothes hadn’t been girdled on, she’d have jumped out of them.

      Because she’d wanted to make an entrance, she’d left her coat in the car. Only the heat of possible humiliation kept her teeth from chattering.

      Her feet were killing her.

      When Rafe didn’t answer, she scanned the room and tried not to swallow audibly at the stares. Gathering courage, she flashed a smile at the bartender. Even the weary-eyed Duff was goggling at her.

      “I’ll have what he’s having.” When she had the beer in her hand, she turned back. No one had moved a muscle. It was either run or play it out, Regan told herself, taking a quick swallow of beer.

      She hated beer.

      “Are you going to rack them, MacKade, or am I?”

      “I’ll rack them,” Jared interjected helpfully. His hands were still a little sweaty, but he’d gotten over the worst of the shock. Rafe’s face was almost as much of a pleasure to watch as the sway of Regan’s hips, as she sauntered over to study the arsenal of cues.

      Rafe heard the clatter of balls, and blinked. “You said you wanted an early night.”

      “Changed my mind.” Her voice was breathy from necessity, rather than design. The leather and Spandex were cutting off her air supply. “I had all this…energy all of a sudden.” She walked slowly to the table, resisting the urge to tug at the hem of the skirt. “Who wants to play?”

      Half a dozen men moved with scraping chairs and clattering boots. Rafe’s snarl was the low, vicious sound of a wild dog guarding his bone. Half a dozen men decided they weren’t in the mood for pool after all.

      “This is a joke, right?”

      Regan took the cue Devin offered, smiled and stroked her fingertips from the tip down the shaft. Someone moaned. “I felt like some action, that’s all.”

      With her confidence building, she passed the bottle of beer to Jared. This, at least, she thought, she knew how to do. Planting her feet, bending one knee for balance, she leaned over the table. Leather strained.

      Rafe’s elbow plowed into Shane’s gut. “Keep looking where you’re looking, and you’ll be blind for a week.”

      “Jeez, Rafe.” Shane tucked his hands in his pockets and prepared to watch the show. “Where’s a guy supposed to look?”

      She broke cleanly, even managed to sink a ball. With the rules of the game Ed had drilled into her flipping through her head, she circled the table. She had to stop, smile, as Devin was still rooted in her path.

      “You’re blocking the table, Sheriff.”

      “Oh. Yeah, right. Sorry.” When she draped herself over the felt this time, his eyes met Jared’s. They grinned at each other like two kids over a shiny new bike.

      She managed to sink one more. That made her cocky enough to try a complicated shot that required a little English. Her hips wiggled as she set her position. From behind her, Jared stuck a hand under his shirt and mimed a thumping heart.

      “You think what you’re thinking again, and I’ll rip your lungs out,” Rafe muttered.

      As the ball missed the pocket by a good six inches, Regan pouted with that red-slicked mouth. “Oops.” She straightened, batted thickly mascaraed eyes at Rafe. “Your turn.” She put her weight on one foot and ran a hand down his shirtfront. “Want me to…chalk your cue?”

      The room exploded with whoops and whistles. Some brave soul made a suggestion that had Rafe’s lips peeling back in a growl. “That does it.”

      He grabbed her cue, tossed it at Devin, then clamped a hand over hers to drag her toward the door.

      “But we haven’t finished the game,” she protested, forced to scramble on the skinny heels to keep up with him.

      He yanked his jacket from the hook by the door and bundled it around her. “Put this on before I have to kill somebody.” She was still struggling with it when he shoved her through the door.

      Devin let out a long, appreciative sigh. “He’s a dead man.”

      “Yeah.” Shane rubbed a hand over his stomach. “Did you ever notice her—”

      In Rafe’s stead, Jared rapped him with a cue.

      “I have my car,” Regan began, while Rafe towed her along.

      He dragged open the door of his own. “Get in. Now.”

      “I could follow you.”

      “Now.”

      “All right.” It wasn’t a simple operation to get into his car. Snug red leather rode higher as she tried for graceful and dignified as she lowered herself into the seat. Rafe ground his teeth audibly. “Where are we going?”

      “I’m taking you home.” He slammed her door, stormed around the hood, then slammed his own hard enough to rock the car. “And if you’re smart, you won’t talk to me.”

      She was smart. When his brakes squealed at the base of her steps, she stayed where she was. There was no possible way she could maneuver herself out of the tiny sports car without help.

      He gave it to her, though no one would have called the hard yank a gentlemanly gesture. “Keys,” he snapped, then snatched them out of her hand and unlocked the door himself.

      Miffed, she strode in ahead of him. “I assume you’re coming in, so—”

      She СКАЧАТЬ