Maverick / The Playboy's Passionate Pursuit: Maverick / The Playboy's Passionate Pursuit. Emilie Rose

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СКАЧАТЬ intractable,” she said. “You know, you’re being unreasonable by refusing to let me go with you.”

      “Unreasonable?” He was no longer laughing. In fact, he scowled at her. “Tracking a man is hard, dangerous work.”

      Bri heaved an impatient sigh. “So is tracking a wild boar or a rogue tiger. But I’ve tracked both. I’m not a fool, Mr. Wolfe. I’m fully aware of the danger.”

      “In that case, run along home to Daddy and let me do what I get paid to do.”

      “No.” Sliding back her chair, Bri stood up. “Let’s just forget it. I’ll find another hunter, one who will allow me to go with him.”

      “No.” Tanner literally sprang out of his chair. “I’m telling you it’s not safe.”

      “And I’m telling you I can take care of myself, possibly even help you.” Bri raised her chin, tilting it at a defiant angle. “And I’m telling you I am going—with you or without you. It’s up to you, Mr. Wolfe.”

      “You really are a spoiled brat, aren’t you?” he said, his soft voice sounding edgy with frustration and anger. His eyes and mouth were hard. The saintly appearance was gone now, replaced by the hunter.

      “No,” she calmly denied. “I’m really not. What I am is confident of my abilities and determined to help catch this monster.” She drew a deep breath, steeling herself for the blast of fury she expected him to hurl at her. “I’ll say it once more—I am going, either with you or with another hunter.”

      He didn’t speak for long seconds, staring at her with narrowed eyes, as if warning her to be careful. His look was absolutely deadly.

      Gritting her teeth, Bri managed to hold his gaze, her pulse racing, her heart thumping. She felt like running but stood firm, resolute.

      Bri had never allowed any man to intimidate her. Damned if she’d back down from this one, even if he did scare the breath from her body. “A woman.”

      “What?” Although she had thought Tanner’s stare couldn’t possibly become any more fierce, it did. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

      Bri managed a halfway credible shrug. “I mean, I’ll look up a woman hunter.”

      “You will not go after that killer with a woman hunter.”

      “I’ll go with whom I please,” she said, her voice calm, resigned.

      Although his eyes flashed with anger, he exhaled a quiet sigh of concession. “Okay, you win. I’ll take you with me. But I’ll have one thing understood before we go any further with this.”

      “And that is?” Bri had a hard time containing her sense of victory, along with a thrill of excitement.

      “I give the orders.”

      “But—”

      “And you will follow them, at once and without protest or question.”

      Bri went stiff with outrage. Just who did this guy think he was? she railed in silent frustration. Unable to keep her feelings inside, she shot back, “I am not a child to be ordered around. Who do you think you are?”

      “I’m the bounty hunter you want or you wouldn’t have sought me out in the first place.” He smiled, stirring all kinds of emotions inside her. His gaze skimmed her from head to toe, flooding her body with heat. “Just for the record, I’m well aware you’re not a child. However, those are my demands.”

      Defeat was a bitter pill to swallow, but Bri knew she had little choice. She had deliberately sought him out, and not only on the advice of her friends or his cousins.

      Bri was thorough in everything she did. She had done her research. She had pulled the information that not only was Tanner considered one of the best bounty hunters around, many believed him to be the best at finding his man in rough terrain like mountains.

      “All right,” she reluctantly agreed. She thought she should feel steam spewing from her ears; instead she felt…protected? She gave a mental shake of her head. No, Tanner Wolfe wasn’t feeling protective of her; he was very likely feeling superior.

      “Good.” He flicked a hand at the table. “Have a seat. We’ve got a lot of plans to go over.”

      Wary but resigned, Bri slid onto the chair she had vacated moments before. She picked up the mug, took a sip, made a face and set it down again.

      “That’s gotta be cold.” He grabbed the mug along with his own and turned away. “I’ll get us refills.” He raised his eyebrows. “What about your scone?”

      Bri shook her head. “No, thank you. It’s fine this way.” Raising the pastry to her mouth, she took a bite. “It’s very good.”

      “Whatever.” Shrugging, he turned away.

      Chewing another bite of the scone, she watched him, studying him from the rear. It was a very nice rear, narrow, firm and taut. His back and shoulders weren’t bad, either, broad and muscular, not in a pumped-up way, but more lean and rangy.

      Mugs refilled, Tanner returned to the table, giving her another chance to more closely examine the front of him. That was even better.

      His flat, muscled chest veed to a slim waist. His legs were long, straight, his thighs nicely straining the denim of his jeans as he arranged his tall frame in the chair. He regarded her in calm, watchful silence.

      Quiet and composed, his features appeared sculpted from marble, sharply delineated. His nose was straight, cheekbones high, jawline defined, square and hard, as if the sculptor had carved it lovingly. If it weren’t for those soft eyes and that tender smile, he’d look like a statue. That tiny flare of excitement flashed inside her again. Why? The question hammered at her mind. Bri couldn’t find the answer, and that seriously bothered her.

      “What are you staring at?” His quiet voice jolted her out of her reverie.

      Damn, once again he’d caught her brooding, staring. What in the world was the matter with her? she chastised herself. She had never been so strongly affected by any man. The closest she had ever come to feeling so drawn to a man had been a disaster, for he had proven to be a handsome, charming son of a bitch, a practiced user of young, susceptible women. At the time, she had been both.

      “You,” Bri admitted, but that was all she intended to admit. “I’m trying to figure you out.”

      He grinned. “How are you making out?”

      “Not too well,” she said, deliberately grinning back at him. “You’re not easy to read.”

      “Don’t feel bad,” he said, growing serious. “I can’t figure you out, either. You’re sure not what you appear to be.”

      Bri raised her brows. “How do I appear to be?”

      He studied her a moment. “My first impression of you was of a beautiful woman, very well dressed, well-bred and educated.”

      Despite her suspicion of easy compliments—the SOB had been extremely easy with СКАЧАТЬ