Luke's Promise. Eileen Wilks

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ

      Lucas West was a sight to bedazzle any woman. His hair was a warm brown that always looked a few weeks late for a trim, just shaggy enough to invite feminine fingers. His skin was tanned, roughened by wind and sun, and his body was lean, strong-shouldered, with a cowboy’s narrow hips and small, tight butt. The features on his narrow face were sculpture-perfect, right down to the most kissable mouth on either side of the Red River. But it was those eyes—those bright-as-sin, fallen angel eyes—that truly trapped a woman.

      Oh, yes. Luke was appallingly good-looking. And he knew it.

      Maggie scowled and bent to shove her suitcase upright and get her breathing started again. “Your timing’s not bad,” she said, straightening. “I was just about to leave, but I can’t go until my mother gives me back my purse. She’s trying to keep me from running away from home. What’s new with you?”

      “Not much. I sold Hunter’s Child last week, and I expect I’ll have a sister-in-law or two soon. But you already know about that situation.” Smile lines traced friendly paths around eyes as wild as the bluebonnets that flooded hillsides in the spring. Deeper grooves cut his cheeks like parentheses, enclosing that sinful grin. “Jacob would have explained when he proposed to you.”

      Sharon gasped. “Jacob West asked you to marry him? Margaret, you didn’t tell me. You know your father was hoping—and Jacob is a wonderful man, so clever.”

      “So rich, you mean. I turned him down.”

      “That’s what I heard.” Luke’s voice was mild, but some dark, unlikely emotion flashed through those bright eyes, gone too quickly to disturb the lazy grin. “That’s why I’m here. That…and Fine Dandy.”

      “Dandy’s gone.” Grief pinched, too raw and private for words. She scowled at her mother, and the giddy zing of anger returned. “So is my purse.”

      Sharon’s cheeks turned pink. “It’s hardly my fault if you misplace your things.”

      Maggie thudded down the last two steps. “I didn’t misplace it. You did. On purpose. Where is it?”

      “Since you insist on discussing this now…” Sharon’s lips tightened. “I locked it in the Cadillac.”

      Maggie’s confidence stumbled. “I could break a window.”

      Sharon didn’t bother to respond. They both knew she wouldn’t. Not on her father’s car.

      “Maybe I can help.” Luke moved closer.

      “Please don’t,” Sharon said. “This is a family matter.”

      Maggie’s eyebrows lifted. “You know how to break into a car?”

      “I probably could,” he admitted. “But I had a different sort of assistance in mind. I saw Fine Dandy listed when I was checking out some Web sites, looked into it and learned that your father had put him up for sale. So I bought him.”

      Hurt bit, mixing with anger and the lingering punch of arousal. “Great. That’s wonderful. I’m very happy for you. Now get the heck out of—”

      “Maggie!” her mother exclaimed, shocked.

      “No, it’s okay.” Luke’s eyes didn’t leave her face. “I thought we might be able to work out a deal.”

      Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What kind of deal?”

      “Marry me and you can have your horse back, enough money to continue competing—and me for a trainer.”

      She didn’t even blink. “Why not? I’ve got nothing better to do.”

      Two

      The front door closed behind Luke firmly. Maggie had allowed him to take her suitcase and boots, but she clutched her saddlebag-size purse herself.

      “My mother is not happy with you,” she said cheerfully. “She wasn’t crazy about it when you offered to spring me. Then you threatened my father’s car. Serious penalty points there, Luke.”

      Luke glanced at the woman who was all but skipping along beside him on the way to his pickup. Maggie wasn’t much bigger than a bite, but her pint-size body held enough energy for any three normal people. Her cheeks were round and freckled, her hair was very short, but otherwise undecided—neither curly nor straight, brown nor blond. Her clothes were more definite, being divided between the defiant and the sloppy. Above wrinkled khaki pants, her T-shirt was a scream of purple. The brown leather bomber jacket she wore looked like it had been through at least one World War. The cast that peeked out of her left sleeve was a radioactive-green.

      And she had a small, husky voice. A whiskey-and-sin voice that made a man think of rumpled sheets. He wanted to jump her bones. “I like your shirt.”

      She glanced down at her chest. Yellow letters sprawled across the modest bumps made by her breasts asked, What Would Xena Do? She grinned. “It’s a reminder. Part of my antiwuss campaign.”

      “Wuss?” His eyebrows lifted. “I’ve seen you compete. You could give lessons in determination to the Cowboys’ offensive line. Maybe you should, after their last season.”

      “Oh, I’m fine on the back of a horse. It isn’t until I’m standing on my own two feet that my wuss tendencies take over. If you hadn’t forced things, I probably would have wimped out and left without my purse.”

      He paused, his head cocked to one side, trying to figure out what was going on. He’d expected to have a hell of a lot more trouble talking her into this, but she was grinning at him as if they ran off together every other week. “You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

      “Damned right I am.” She said it with a certain relish.

      “That’s three.” He opened the pickup’s passenger door.

      “What?”

      “That’s the third time I can remember hearing you use a cuss word.”

      “The habits of a lifetime are hard to break. I’m working on it.”

      “Learning to cuss is part of your antiwuss campaign?”

      “Yep.” She tossed her purse onto the seat and climbed in. “Would you really have busted a window on my father’s car if my mother hadn’t given in and unlocked it?”

      He grinned. “Damned right I would.” Sitting on the bench seat of the pickup cab, she was slightly above him. He liked the perspective that gave him on those soft, smiling lips. He wasn’t crazy about the rush of heat and frustration that hit, along with the tantalizingly faint wash of memories.

      He’d have to get used to that. “We couldn’t leave without your purse. You’ll need ID when we get to Vegas.”

      “Oh, right. Of course. My mother would have thought of that sooner or later, wouldn’t she? If not, my father certainly would have when he got back. Then they’d never have believed we were really running away to get married.”

      “Ah.” He nodded. “Now I understand. You don’t think this elopement СКАЧАТЬ