Hard To Tame. Kylie Brant

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СКАЧАТЬ meeting her. She’s a wonderful lady.”

      He made no effort to disguise the affection in his voice. “She is, yes.” Strolling along beside her, he opened the front door for her when they’d crossed the hallway. The car was pulled up front, waiting. She started toward it without another word, and Nick followed her out onto the porch, watched her descend the steps. “Amber?”

      She halted in the act of sliding into the car, and looked at him.

      Raising his glass to her, he said, “I’ll see you soon.”

      She made no comment, and he’d expected none. The car door slammed, and the vehicle pulled away. He was contemplating the winking taillights when he heard his grandmother’s voice behind him.

      “I like that girl, Nicky.” She tucked her arm into his and he covered her fingers absently with his own. “You will leave her out of those games you play, n’est-ce pas?”

      Broodingly, he watched the car as it turned out of the drive. “I’m not playing, Grand-mère. Not this time.”

      Chapter 2

      Sleep could be unkind to those with blood on their hands. Nick tossed on the sweat-dampened sheets while faces loomed in his unconscious, each receding, to be replaced by yet another. And when an all too familiar shot ricocheted through his dreams, shattering his slumber, he woke with a start, his heart jackhammering in his chest.

      He hauled in a deep breath, then another. He was used to the nightmares, but lately they’d become more frequent. More relentless. After wiping his perspiring face with the sheet, he tossed it aside, got out of bed.

      Despite the darkness, his steps were sure as he crossed the room that had been his since childhood. Unmindful of his nudity, he opened the terrace doors and stepped out onto the little balcony that overlooked his grandmother’s beloved gardens. There was a hint of a breeze, but it did little to cool his heated skin. The air was heavy with moisture. It would rain by tomorrow.

      His muscles still quivered with the aftershocks of the nightmare. From long practice he kept his breathing deep and steady, fighting off the sensation of suffocating. At one time that feeling had been a constant in his life. But those days were over, reenacted only in his dreams.

      The scent of gardenias drifted toward him and his fingers clenched on the railing as he filled his lungs. But it wasn’t the gardens he thought of this time, but the woman who hovered at the edge of his unconscious.

      Amber. With her wide, catlike eyes and long sleek body, she reminded him of a feline, begging to be stroked. But that one wouldn’t welcome petting, and most definitely not from him. She did everything in her power to avoid being touched by him at all.

      Nick worked his shoulders, impatient with himself. He’d never been one to obsess over a woman, and if he wasn’t careful, that’s what Amber would become. An obsession. One that filled the mind and absorbed the senses. One that caused a man to forget all about obligation and focus solely on her.

      She was a puzzle, with her badly cut hair and quick, nervous movements. Her anxious mannerisms, when she toyed with her earring or her necklace, were at odds with the cool, measuring look in her eye. It was intriguing to wonder which was the real woman—the nervous waif or the wary combatant. Whichever she was, she’d made no secret of her distrust of him.

      If he were a better man, a kinder one, he’d forget all about Amber Jennings and leave her alone to live her life as she chose. But because he was neither, he knew he’d do nothing of the sort.

      The promised rain hung low in the clouds, doing little more than releasing the occasional fat drop and keeping a miserable mugginess in the air. Sara waved to Candy as they parted ways for a few hours. She wasn’t expected back until the dinner shift today, and the freedom of the next few hours beckoned. She’d been on edge all morning, and it was tempting to blame that fact on the weather. But in truth, Nick Doucet was at the root of the feeling.

      Without meaning to, she’d watched for him all morning, his words from yesterday ringing in her mind.

      I’ll see you soon. Her memory all too accurately recalled the promise in his voice, the predatory, masculine intent in his eyes.

      Her experience with men in recent years had been kept to a minimum, by her choice. There had been the waiter in Seattle, the one who had reminded her, in some slight way, of Sean. The resemblance had only been physical, and their encounter brief. She’d left town shortly after their relationship had started, and there had been no one since.

      Dispassionately, she’d wondered from time to time if she was capable of feeling the type of desire that books rhapsodized over and movies glorified. Wondered if something vital in her had been broken years ago and could never work correctly again. She’d never regarded her lack with much regret. From what she’d witnessed, passion was an excuse, a weakness…and in the hands of some, a weapon.

      But that didn’t account for the razor sharp awareness that flared to life every time Doucet came close. And her own unfamiliar reaction was just one more reason for her to steer clear of him.

      Ignoring the sullen threat in the clouds, she walked several more blocks until she came to a small market on the corner. Going inside, she selected some necessities and paused over the produce. She could take all her meals at the café on the days she worked, but she liked to have fresh fruit in her room for an occasional snack.

      Thunder rumbled ominously, and with one eye on the sky, she paid for her purchases and hurried from the store.

      “You took a chance coming out on a day like today without an umbrella.”

      Her spine stiffened as she recognized the voice. Without turning, she hurried even faster, to no avail. Nick merely fell into step beside her.

      “Can I carry something?”

      “No.” A few drops of rain hit the pavement before her. It was too much to ask that, given no encouragement, he’d disappear. He was much too tenacious for that.

      With his hands tucked into the pockets of his custom-fit linen trousers, he strolled along, seeming unconcerned as the drops fell with increasing urgency. “Perhaps it’s difficult for you to believe, but I was raised as a Southern gentleman.” He reached over to pry one of the bags from her fingers. “It’s my duty to at least give the appearance of being helpful.”

      It was her reluctance to touch him, not his perseverance, that caused her to relinquish her grip on the bag. The nerves were back, flickering just below the surface of her skin, and she damned them almost as fiercely as she damned the man beside her. “Do Southern gentlemen normally stalk women who have made their disinterest clear?”

      “Stalk?” He seemed to give the word consideration. “That seems a harsh conclusion, given the fact that the market you were shopping at is directly across the street from my family’s offices.” She looked at the nondescript brick building he indicated. “We could dodge in over there, and wait out the rain.”

      “Go ahead,” she invited, walking faster. The precipitation was growing heavier. She’d be soaked by the time she reached her apartment. But there was no way she was going anywhere with him.

      “Now what kind of gentleman would I be, Amber, if I didn’t see a lady to her door?”

      At the teasing words she whirled on him, wiping СКАЧАТЬ