Marriage On Demand. Susan Fox P.

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СКАЧАТЬ was over in those next tense seconds. Rena Lambert never showed even a flicker of fear or hesitation as the stallion’s front hooves started down only a few inches from her right shoulder. She merely shifted to the side to catch the flipping end of the lead rope.

      The stallion squealed as his hooves hit the dirt, but before he could bunch his powerful hindquarters to bolt, Rena used her grip on the lead rope to haul his big head around and force him to circle.

      Caught off guard, the stallion whipped around her as if eager to participate. Ford halted within a few feet of the pair, watching tensely as Rena used nothing but her grip on the heavy lead and her hand on the stallion’s flank to urge him to keep moving in the small, tight circle. The low-level cloud of dust they kicked up quickly obscured Ford’s ability to keep track of the fast-paced dance.

      Seconds later, the horse dramatically slowed then abruptly came to a halt. The stallion lowered his head and let out the kind of long snort that signaled surrender and calm. Rena gave him a firm pat on his damp neck and murmured a few quiet words.

      Not once had she shouted, not once had she done anything to cause the big animal pain. In essence, she’d merely taken over and redirected the animal’s energy while neatly demonstrating her own authority over him until he’d let her know he’d had enough.

      The pleasure of seeing her do that sharpened Ford’s interest. He’d not expected to see her before tonight, but he knew right away why she’d shown up early. The high, hot color that surged up her cheeks as he approached confirmed it.

      “Much obliged.” He took the lead rope she passed him. Her incredible blue gaze with its thick fringe of black lashes shifted from his and the color in her face deepened.

      For another woman, that would have been coy and flirtatious. But Rena Lambert was neither of those. She was aloof—painfully aloof—and quiet in a way that fairly shouted proof that her father frequently berated her.

      It was no secret that the old man was an SOB, and that he treated his only child like dirt. Ford wondered why she took it. Did she think she deserved it or had Abner undermined her so much that she was afraid to go out into the world on her own?

      Ford had only tolerated Abner’s visit yesterday because Rena intrigued him. He’d learned nothing that truly satisfied his curiosity, but he’d been shocked by what Abner Lambert meant to do to his daughter. The injustice of that was far sharper for Ford than the personal insult of having a crazy old man use a piece of land to buy a husband for his daughter.

      And why the hell would he need to? Rena was beautiful. Her dark, glossy hair came down just past her collar, but it was thick and lustrous and straight. Her face was an intriguing mix of high cheekboned beauty and common symmetry. Her nose was fine and straight and her mouth had a vulnerability to it that asked a man to go slow.

      Combined with a close-up view of the rest of her, Rena Lambert was a pleasure to look at. The lustful feelings he’d felt toward her in the past impacted him more deeply and forcefully than ever now. The notion that he might have to marry her wasn’t exactly distasteful.

      But instinct warned him to conceal that. She was already here to put a stop to her father’s scheme. Any hint of personal interest from him would scare her away, and he wasn’t yet certain what he truly wanted, other than a parcel of land.

      “I wasn’t expecting to see you until tonight,” he said, unable to take his eyes from her.

      Her blue gaze shifted to his when he spoke, but dropped away almost instantly.

      “I can’t…have supper with you. I—” She cut herself off as the two ranch hands from the stud barn arrived to collect the stallion.

      Rena’s nerves were jumping painfully high now that the moment had come to speak to Ford Harlow. She was tall for a woman, but Ford made her feel petite and feminine. He wasn’t peacock handsome, but he was rugged and compelling. So compelling that she felt the power of his dark gaze on her every second.

      The long-repressed femininity she rarely acknowledged was clamoring at his nearness. Men didn’t normally affect her, but something about Ford’s masculinity pulled at her.

      A peculiar feeling that was half excitement, half fear sparkled sweetly through her and she tried desperately to suppress it. She was terrified her reaction to him would show, because something in his nearly black gaze hinted at unerring perception. She wasn’t used to men like him. The men she worked with every day accepted her presence, but nothing in their manner or in the way they spoke to her had ever seemed personal.

      Every look Ford gave her, every word he spoke, somehow seemed intensely personal, as if he meant to catch her notice, as if he was either probing for something or trying to coax it out of her. It was terrifying, it was flattering, it was profoundly confusing.

      It dawned on her then that she’d let several moments go by without finishing the sentence she’d cut off when Ford’s men had led the stallion away. Her gaze shot back to see the calmness in his. He was waiting for her, watching her steadily and the peculiar feeling of excitement and fear soared higher.

      “Pardon me,” she said hastily to apologize for the brief wait, then struggled to keep from fidgeting as she went on, determined to get it out. “My father just told me about…”

      Her heart quailed with dread. She glanced away from him, seeking relief from the sharp search his dark eyes made of hers.

      “About what my father asked, I had nothing to do with that,” she told him. “I refuse to let him…”

      The frustration of wanting to declare her intentions without saying too much about her true relationship with her father made it difficult. Her gaze shifted back to Ford’s just in time to see him step toward her and reach for her arm.

      “Let’s go to the house, Miz Lambert, get something cool to drink. We can talk there.”

      Rena froze that second before his strong fingers closed warmly around her arm. She tried not to flinch, but she couldn’t seem to control that. She couldn’t control the sudden, baffling weakness of her legs as she turned with him to start through the stable to go to the house.

      She’d had no fear of the runaway stallion, no worries about standing her ground and catching his lead to calm him down, but she was terrified of this, so terrified. And the grimness about Ford now further unsettled her.

      Could he feel the small earthquake his touch set off? The pleasure-fear of his warm grip surged so strongly that the moment they were through the stable, she pulled her arm away. Horrified that the awkward movement suggested she couldn’t bear his touch another moment, she faltered to a halt. So did he, and his calm gaze fastened on hers.

      Her mouth went dry with bad nerves and it was a struggle to get the words out.

      “I mean no offense to you, Mr. Harlow. What my father suggested…I won’t be part of that. Good day.”

      She cringed inwardly at the stiff way it had come out, particularly the clumsy formality of that last. Good day. Fake-sounding and pretentious in a way that sent heat to her face and a sick feeling to her stomach. And she’d meant to say it then walk to her pickup and leave, but her legs were trembling and she couldn’t seem to move.

      The sick feeling deepened as Ford’s expression went grim. Her worked up emotions felt the shock of the sudden change all the way to her feet.

      “The СКАЧАТЬ