going
to your
head…stud
."
He knew people called him that, but when
Michelle said it, the word dripped with disdain. He'd always hated that
particular tone, so icy and superior, and it made him see red now. He bent down
until his face was level with hers, their noses almost touching, and his black
eyes were so fiery that she could see gold sparks in them. "When we're in
bed, honey, you can decide for yourself about my reputation."
"I'm not going to bed with you,"
she said through clenched teeth, spacing the words out like dropping stones
into water.
"The hell you're not. But it won't be
for this damned ranch." Straightening to his full height again, he caught
her arm. "Let's get that business settled right now, so it'll be out of
the way and you can't keep throwing it in my face."
"You're the one who put it on that basis,''
she shot back as they returned to the kitchen. He dropped several ice cubes in
a glass and filled it with water, then draped his big frame on one of the
chairs. She watched his muscular throat working as he drained the glass, and a
weak, shivery feeling swept over her. Swiftly she looked away, cursing her own
powerful physical response to the mere sight of him.
"I made a mistake," he said
tersely, putting the glass down with a thump. "Money has nothing to do
with it. We've been circling each other from the day we met, sniffing and
fighting like cats in heat. It's time we did something about it. As for the
debt, I've decided what I want. Deed that land you were going to sell over to
me instead, and we'll be even."
It was just like him to divide her attention
like that, so she didn't know how to react or what to say. Part of her wanted
to scream at him for being so smugly certain she would sleep with him, and part
of her was flooded with relief that the debt had been settled so easily. He
could have ruined her by insisting on cash, but he hadn't. He wasn't getting a
bad deal, by any means; it was good, rich pastureland he was obtaining, and he
knew it.
It was a reprieve, one she hadn't expected,
and she didn't know how to deal with it, so she simply sat and stared at him.
He waited, but when she didn't say anything he leaned back in his chair, his
hard face becoming even more determined. "There's a catch," he
drawled.
The high feeling of relief plummeted, leaving
her sick and empty. "Let me guess," she said bitterly, shoving her
chair back and standing. So it had all come down to the same thing after all.
His mouth twisted wryly in self-derision.
''You're way off, honey. The catch is that you let me help you. My men will do
the hard labor from now on, and if I even hear of you trying to put up fencing
again, you'll be sitting on a pillow for a month."
''If your men do my work, I'll still be in
debt to you."
"I don't consider it a debt; I call it
helping a neighbor."
"I call it a move to keep me
obligated!"
"Call it what you like, but that's the
deal. You're one woman, not ten men; you're not strong enough to take care of
the livestock and keep the ranch up, and you don't have the money to afford
help. You're mighty short on options, so stop kicking. It's your fault, anyway.
If you hadn't liked to ski so much, you wouldn't be in this position."
She drew back, her green eyes locked on him.
Her face was pale. "What do you mean?"
John got to his feet, watching her with the
old look that said he didn't much like her. "I mean that part of the
reason your daddy borrowed the money from me was so he could afford to send you
to St. Moritz with your friends last year. He was trying to hold
his head above water, but that didn't matter to you as much as living in style,
did it?"
She had been pale before, but now she was
deathly white. She stared at him as if he'd slapped her, and too late he saw
the shattered look in her eyes. Swiftly he rounded the table, reaching for her,
but she shrank away from him, folding in on herself like a wounded animal. How
ironic that she should now be struggling to repay a
to your
head…stud
."
He knew people called him that, but when
Michelle said it, the word dripped with disdain. He'd always hated that
particular tone, so icy and superior, and it made him see red now. He bent down
until his face was level with hers, their noses almost touching, and his black
eyes were so fiery that she could see gold sparks in them. "When we're in
bed, honey, you can decide for yourself about my reputation."
"I'm not going to bed with you,"
she said through clenched teeth, spacing the words out like dropping stones
into water.
"The hell you're not. But it won't be
for this damned ranch." Straightening to his full height again, he caught
her arm. "Let's get that business settled right now, so it'll be out of
the way and you can't keep throwing it in my face."
"You're the one who put it on that basis,''
she shot back as they returned to the kitchen. He dropped several ice cubes in
a glass and filled it with water, then draped his big frame on one of the
chairs. She watched his muscular throat working as he drained the glass, and a
weak, shivery feeling swept over her. Swiftly she looked away, cursing her own
powerful physical response to the mere sight of him.
"I made a mistake," he said
tersely, putting the glass down with a thump. "Money has nothing to do
with it. We've been circling each other from the day we met, sniffing and
fighting like cats in heat. It's time we did something about it. As for the
debt, I've decided what I want. Deed that land you were going to sell over to
me instead, and we'll be even."
It was just like him to divide her attention
like that, so she didn't know how to react or what to say. Part of her wanted
to scream at him for being so smugly certain she would sleep with him, and part
of her was flooded with relief that the debt had been settled so easily. He
could have ruined her by insisting on cash, but he hadn't. He wasn't getting a
bad deal, by any means; it was good, rich pastureland he was obtaining, and he
knew it.
It was a reprieve, one she hadn't expected,
and she didn't know how to deal with it, so she simply sat and stared at him.
He waited, but when she didn't say anything he leaned back in his chair, his
hard face becoming even more determined. "There's a catch," he
drawled.
The high feeling of relief plummeted, leaving
her sick and empty. "Let me guess," she said bitterly, shoving her
chair back and standing. So it had all come down to the same thing after all.
His mouth twisted wryly in self-derision.
''You're way off, honey. The catch is that you let me help you. My men will do
the hard labor from now on, and if I even hear of you trying to put up fencing
again, you'll be sitting on a pillow for a month."
''If your men do my work, I'll still be in
debt to you."
"I don't consider it a debt; I call it
helping a neighbor."
"I call it a move to keep me
obligated!"
"Call it what you like, but that's the
deal. You're one woman, not ten men; you're not strong enough to take care of
the livestock and keep the ranch up, and you don't have the money to afford
help. You're mighty short on options, so stop kicking. It's your fault, anyway.
If you hadn't liked to ski so much, you wouldn't be in this position."
She drew back, her green eyes locked on him.
Her face was pale. "What do you mean?"
John got to his feet, watching her with the
old look that said he didn't much like her. "I mean that part of the
reason your daddy borrowed the money from me was so he could afford to send you
to St. Moritz with your friends last year. He was trying to hold
his head above water, but that didn't matter to you as much as living in style,
did it?"
She had been pale before, but now she was
deathly white. She stared at him as if he'd slapped her, and too late he saw
the shattered look in her eyes. Swiftly he rounded the table, reaching for her,
but she shrank away from him, folding in on herself like a wounded animal. How
ironic that she should now be struggling to repay a
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