Vixen In Disguise. Kara Lennox

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СКАЧАТЬ her neck he knew about, didn’t pull the pins out of that ridiculously tight knot her hair was in, didn’t wrap his arms around her body and hold her fast against him until she agreed not to run.

      He knew running was exactly what she had in mind, and there was probably nothing he could do about it.

      “I guess you’re not here to take up where we left off,” he said.

      “I can’t.”

      “Why not?”

      She stepped out of his loose grasp and turned to face him. “A casual affair just isn’t my style. Anyway, you wouldn’t really want to bother with me. I’m so completely different from Annie.”

      “Maybe you’d be more like her if you’d smile once in a while. Is that some kind of lifestyle choice?”

      “I don’t have anything to smile about right now, okay?”

      “Your dream coming true doesn’t make you smile?”

      “It hasn’t come true yet. I don’t have a job. I haven’t passed the bar. Lots of hurdles to jump.”

      “So you’re under a lot of stress.”

      “Yes. Exactly.”

      He ran one finger down her cheek, gratified to feel her tremble. Nice to know he still had some effect on her. “I know a really good stress buster. It’s called Cowboy Valium.”

      She hesitated a fraction of a second longer, then jumped out of his reach. “No. That’s not why I came here. And if you chose this isolated place for us to meet so you could seduce me, you’re in for a disappointment.”

      “As I recall, lady, you were the one who insisted on privacy.”

      “It would be pointless to start something. I’ll be leaving town again in a couple of weeks. And I can’t afford any distractions. I’ve got job interviews, I’ve got to study for the bar…”

      “Who are you trying to convince?”

      “I’m just not the temporary-fling type.”

      Neither was he. But unlike Anne, he wasn’t convinced a fling was all they could have. Sure, the circumstances worked against them, but anything was possible if they put their minds to it.

      If he spoke his thoughts out loud, she would probably break something running away from him. A skit-tish woman like Anne required careful handling.

      The kindest thing he could do right now was let her go. Unfortunately, he wasn’t feeling kind. “You can’t tell me you’re not real, Annie.”

      “Stop calling me Annie.”

      “The woman called Annie is part of you. You can’t convince me otherwise. And if you ask me, Annie is worth a dozen uptight, frowning, defeminized, frumpish Anne Chatsworths. A fat paycheck and a sixty-hour workweek won’t keep you warm at night, and it won’t make you laugh, and it’ll probably send you to an early grave. Stress does that, you know.”

      She was silent, and Wade was afraid he’d gone too far. So much for careful handling.

      She turned and stalked out of the barn, and Wade didn’t follow her. Moments later he heard her car starting, then tires spinning in dirt as she peeled out.

      ANNE FUMED the whole way home. She was so mad, in fact, that she forgot to be quiet when she pulled her car into the driveway. She got out and slammed the door, then made all kinds of noise as she entered the same way she’d come out.

      Uptight, frowning, defeminized, frumpish… Just because she wasn’t wearing tight jeans and a low-cut blouse? Because she hadn’t troweled on two pounds of makeup, and her hair wasn’t teased up Dolly Parton big?

      How dare Wade Hardison try to tell her how to live her life? Just because she’d spent a weekend with him, did that make him think he knew everything about her?

      She was furious that he made her so tongue-tied, really ticked that he’d gotten in the last word. What kind of lawyer would she be if she froze up when an opponent got the advantage? She’d completely lost her cool. And, damn it, her cool was one of the few things she had going for her right now.

      “Anne?”

      Anne stopped short as she entered the kitchen. Her father was making himself a cup of hot cocoa. “Oh, hi, Dad.” Stay calm, don’t let him see that anything’s wrong. He would only worry about her.

      “Where have you been?” he asked with a frown. “I thought you’d gone to bed.”

      “I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a drive.”

      “Why didn’t you let us know you were leaving?”

      “C’mon, Dad, I’m not sixteen anymore.”

      “I know, honey, but we’re still allowed to worry about you, aren’t we? If your mother had stopped in your room to say good-night, she would have been frantic to find you gone.”

      Anne sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll be more considerate in the future.”

      Milton smiled. “Want some hot chocolate? Might help you sleep.”

      “No, thanks. I’m tired now. Good night.” She kissed her father on the cheek, then slipped up the back stairs, avoiding her mother and the inevitable questions. She’d probably still get them at breakfast tomorrow, but she’d be in better shape to answer them after a good night’s sleep.

      If she could get one. She was still steamed, and her blood felt hot in her veins—not just from anger, but desire. She still wanted Wade Hardison’s body with the same intensity she’d experienced at the rodeo, despite everything that had happened. She could still feel the warm pressure of his hands on her shoulders, the tickle of his breath against her neck. Though she would never admit it, it had taken all of her willpower to turn down Wade’s suggestion that they take up where they’d left off.

      She would just have to avoid him for however long he was in town. Which reminded her—how long was he in town? Why was he here, when he’d sworn to her he would never go home, never be forgiven by his family? What had changed his mind?

      ON HIS WAY BACK to the house, Wade stopped in the new, modern barn his brother Jonathan had built. He wanted to check on Traveler. The bay quarter horse stood in his stall, completely still, probably asleep. Normally Traveler was alert the moment anyone came near him. His inertia concerned Wade almost as much as the injury. Maybe it was the medicine.

      Wade resisted the urge to scratch the stallion’s forelock, Traveler’s favorite form of affection. The horse might need to sleep.

      He started to turn away, then heard a familiar nicker. He turned and smiled. Traveler must have caught his scent and wakened. Wade scratched the horse’s black forelock, like he’d wanted to do, then behind his ears, then rubbed the soft skin under his jaw. Traveler nuzzled Wade’s ear, then searched his hands for a treat.

      “Sorry, buddy, I gave you the last carrot after dinner.” Traveler made a pleading noise, and Wade, as usual, caved in. “Oh, all right. But too СКАЧАТЬ