Read Online Beauty and the Brit by Lizbeth Selvig - Free Book Online Page A

appreciate it.”
    Appreciate? She added brownnosing sycophant to their host’s list of personality traits—this one not his most attractive. Once the cruiser had turned slowly around in the farm’s gravel driveway and rolled far enough down the driveway so its driver couldn’t see them, Bonnie stuck her tongue out.
    “Ass,” Rio muttered under breath.
    “Quite so.” David snorted, equally quietly.
    His agreement surprised her. As did the pleasant expression on his face. Her insides roiled at the injustice of the veiled warnings, and yet David Pitts-Matherson looked as if he’d just shared a beer with a buddy.
    “You seemed to get along with him just fine.”
    “I don’t know him,” he replied. “He strikes me as an arrogant sod, but it seemed wise to avoid antagonizing him while we need his help.”
    Rio backed down, chastened. She’d thought exactly the same thing, and still she’d let her underwear not only bunch but start chafing. She knew better.
    “You’re right,” she mumbled.
    “Rio.” His voice pulled her eyes back to his. “This is a small town. Everyone has his or her own way even though as a rule they’re all pretty friendly. Hewett is new, and he’s trying to look tough. Ignore him.”
    His words didn’t excuse, but his voice held certainty and promise that all was fine. Suddenly, his fitted riding pants and the black leather boot tops rising up the length of his calves seemed tough, protective, and anything but wussy.
    “Thank you,” she managed, still not willing to give up her wariness. “All police are nervous when it comes to gangs. I shouldn’t react to one cop’s skepticism.”
    “But he was a condescending jerk.” Bonnie still watched the dust from the cruiser, her lip curled.
    “He was,” David said. “Let him bluster. At least he’ll be on the lookout for us.”
    True enough. Better a cop with a tough attitude than one who didn’t care at all. Hector was acting like a big-time gang leader even though he was no such thing. Mean, yes, but hardly important. Maybe a rigid hand was exactly what a street punk too cruel for his britches needed.
    “Right, then.” David smiled. “I’m going to change from my riding clothes, and after you unpack let’s go have a look ’round town. We’ll stock the kitchen, and if you’re hungry for lunch, there’s a nice café with excellent food.”
    “All right!” said Bonnie.
    The familiar twist of resentment clenched in Rio’s stomach. Lunch at a restaurant would mean another bite, beyond grocery shopping, out of her meager savings, or more charity on his part. She wanted neither. Since the fire, she had, maybe, two hundred dollars in her dwindling account, most of which had been earmarked for utilities, groceries, and back-to-school supplies for Bonnie.
    She didn’t need the utility money any longer . . .
    Her throat constricted.
    And she had no idea where Bonnie would even go to school or when she’d start. In Minneapolis school started after Labor Day, five weeks away. Please, God, she thought. Let them be well away from here in five weeks’ time.
    Gravel crunched in the driveway again, and Rio looked up half-expecting to see the chief returning. Instead, a green Ford Focus with a slightly scuffed door pulled toward them, bass thumping from its radio. The driver stopped, rolled down his window, and turned down a blaring rock song.
    “’Lo, Dawson. Thanks for the noise abatement.” David grinned at the good-looking young man who stuck his elbow and head out of the window.
    “No prob. Just dropping her off.”
    David bent his knees and peered into the car. “Hey, Kim. Lesson today?”
    “Yup.” A cheery voice carried to them from the passenger seat. “A show and a Pony Club certification in the next month. Thanks for letting Jackson stay here while we work on everything.”
    Rio had no idea what the conversation meant, but she recognized the awe on her sister’s face as she fixated on the young driver. He looked