Wrangled. B.J. Daniels

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СКАЧАТЬ he said, surprised at how pleased he was to see her.

      Smiling, he started toward her, but slowed as he caught her body language. Hands on hips, big brown eyes narrowed, an angry tilt to her head. His brain had been working at a snail’s pace all day. It finally kicked into gear to question what Dakota Lansing was doing here—let alone why she appeared to be upset.

      She closed the distance between them. “Where is my sister?” Those big brown eyes widened, and he knew she’d seen the scratches on his face just seconds before she balled up her fist and slugged him.

      The punch had some power behind it, but it still had less effect on him than her words.

      “Your sister?” he asked, taking a step back as he rubbed his jaw and frowned at her. He’d known Dakota Lansing all his life. She didn’t have a sister.

       Chapter Three

      “Courtney Baxter,” Dakota said. “The woman I know you were out with last night.” She looked as if she wanted to hit him again. Her eyes narrowed. “What did you do to her?”

      He rubbed his jaw, feeling as if he was mentally two steps behind and had been since Courtney Baxter had knocked on his door not twenty-four hours before. “Courtney Baxter is your sister?”

      “My half sister. Where is she?”

      His head ached and now so did his jaw. Dakota had a pretty good right hook. “How do you know I was with her?”

      “She called me sounding terrified. What did you do to her?”

      Taking a step back, he raised both hands. “Hold on a minute. We can figure this out.”

      “What is there to figure out?” she demanded.

      He noticed something he hadn’t earlier. Dakota’s left hand. No wedding ring. No ring at all. The last time he’d seen her, she’d had a nice-size rock on her ring finger. He’d heard she was engaged to some investment manager down in New Mexico.

      She saw him staring at her left hand and stuck her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, her look daring him to say anything about it.

      No chance of that.

      “We should put something on those knuckles,” he said, having noticed before that her right hand was swelling. Hitting him had hurt her more than it had him. Well, physically at least.

      Dakota Lansing. He still couldn’t believe that the freckle-faced tomboy who used to stick her tongue out at him had grown into this amazing-looking woman.

      “Why don’t you come into the house for a minute,” he said, and started for the front porch.

      “Zane, I’m only interested in finding my sister.”

      “So am I.” He left the door open, went into the kitchen and opened the freezer door. By the time he heard her come in he had a tray of ice cubes dumped into a clean dishcloth.

      “What did you do to her?” Dakota demanded again from the kitchen doorway.

      He motioned to a chair at the kitchen table. “Dakota, you know me. You know I wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

      She didn’t look convinced, but she did sit down. He reached for her injured hand, but she quickly took the ice from him, pushing his hand away.

      “Courtney said on the phone last night that she was in trouble. I heard something crash in the background. Just before the connection went dead she said your name.”

      The whole time she’d been talking she was glaring at him, challenging him to come up with an explanation. He wished he could.

      “Dakota, I have to be honest with you. I can’t remember anything about last night. I woke up this morning alone with these scratches on my face and—” he pushed up his sleeve “—my arm.”

      Her eyes widened a little when she saw the scratches on his arm. He saw fear flicker in her expression, fear and anger. “How long have you been dating my sister?”

      She sounded almost jealous. Which he thought just showed how hungover he was. “I had never laid eyes on her until she showed up at my door last night claiming we had a date,” he said. He saw she was having trouble believing it. “I swear it. And I certainly didn’t know she was your sister. So how is it I never knew you had a sister?”

      “She’s my father’s love child.” Dakota sighed and shifted the ice pack on her swollen knuckles. “I only found out two weeks ago after my father died.”

      He remembered seeing in the newspaper that her father had passed away. He’d thought about sending a card, but it had been so many years, he doubted Dakota would remember him.

      “Are you sure she’s even—”

      “I saw her birth certificate. It had my father’s signature and his name on it. Apparently Courtney’s mother and my father got together either when my mother was dying or right after.”

      He could see how painful this was for her. Dakota had idolized her father, and to find out on his death that he’d been keeping a lover and a sister from her for years …

      “So you’re claiming that Courtney just showed up at your door?” Dakota asked, clearly not wanting to talk about her father.

      Zane told her about his call to Arlene at the dating service, the check someone had used to enroll him and that he was waiting to hear from Courtney, since he, too, was worried about what might have happened last night.

      She studied him for a long moment. “So a woman you have never seen before shows up at your door claiming you have a date, and you just go out with her anyway?”

      He guessed Dakota had probably heard about his reputation with women. “I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

      Her chuckle had a distinct edge to it, and he remembered why he’d always liked her. Dakota had always been smart and sassy. She’d been a daredevil as a kid, always up for just about anything, from climbing the three-story structure that held the rodeo announcer’s booth at the fairgrounds, to trying to ride any animal that would hold still long enough for her to hop on. Since her father had raised rodeo stock, she’d had a lot of animals to choose from. He’d liked her a lot. Still did, he thought.

      “How well do you know her?” Zane asked.

      “Not as well as you know her, apparently,” Dakota said, and shoved the ice pack away as she reached for her phone.

      “Who are you calling?” He hated to think.

      “I’m trying Courtney’s cell.” She punched in the number and hit Send. “I’ve been trying to call her all day and—”

      At the distant sound of a phone ringing they both froze for an instant. Then, getting to their feet, they followed the muffled ringing.

      Zane hadn’t gone far when he realized the sound was coming from his bedroom. He pushed open the door and stepped in, Dakota on his heels.

      The СКАЧАТЬ