Read Online Jed's Sweet Revenge by Deborah Smith - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Deborah Smith
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like to be alone. I’ve never been on an airplane, I’ve never been to a rock concert, and I’ve never watched MTV.”
“You haven’t missed much on any of those three counts,” Jed observed wryly. He paused. “But even a sweet little old lady like yourself needs those chemical reactions you were talkin’ about. What about your friend? I bet the professor didn’t think you were over the hill.”
“Nate Gallagher,” she offered. Jed had unknowingly picked just the subject to cement her argument. “He said I was an ancient intellect. That’s even more intense than ‘old.’ ”
Jed considered her strange comment for a moment. Surely this Nate hombre hadn’t treated such a vibrant lady like an aging book. If he had, he was a fool. “Well, Miss Witch, you may be ancient between the ears, but you’re well-preserved on all other counts.” He reached a hand out to touch her, but she shook her head and moved farther away.
“I can’t, Jedidiah. I won’t. It’s nothing personal, so don’t be offended. I find you very attractive, which is a great compliment considering how much trouble you’ve caused me.”
“Would it be different if we weren’t at odds over this island?”
“Are you hinting that you’d trade Sancia’s future for my physical affections?”
He stood up quickly, and Thena followed. The fire in his eyes would have soldered metal. “No.”
“I’m sorry, Jedidiah. That was an ugly thing to assume. I don’t know much about this sort of thing … how men go about it, I mean.”
“Go about what?”
“Courtship.” Thena watched the amazement register in his lean face. “Uhmmm, not courtship, I know that means something serious. Flirtation. Yes, that’s it. I’m sorry I misinterpreted your routine sexual flirtation for something manipulative.”
Her straightforward manner was as mesmerizing as it was exasperating. Jed ran a hand through his brown hair. “Wildflower, there was nothin’ routine about it. I never met a gal like you before, and I don’t expect to ever meet a gal like you again.” He hesitated, annoyance growing inside him. “I don’t like playin’ word games with you. And quit treatin’ me like I’m a damned bug you’re studyin’.” His tone was full of warning. “If you’re so scared of courtship that you have to call it something else, then that’s your problem.” He turned and stalked toward the horses.
Thena gazed after him in weak surprise. No, no, she thought desperately. He can’t court me. I don’t know how to be courted. I don’t even know how to kiss.
They rode on through the forest in silence, both of them somber. Jed tried to distract himself by picturing bulldozers ripping into the green glades, scattering the palmetto plants and the flowers, plowing down the huge oaks and their canopies of moss. The only problem was, if he let that happen, this beautiful woman would hate him until the day she died. He winced at the idea.
The thought of invoking hatred had never disturbed him before. As a kid on the rodeo circuit, he’d been tough in defense of himself and his father. Roarke was blustery, outspoken, and often drunk, a bad combination that usually got him into more trouble than he could handle alone.
So from the time he was big enough to fight, Jed had come to his father’s aid. Over the years, morethan two dozen men had cursed Jed’s name viciously. He knew that on rainy days those men rubbed at the twinges of arthritic pain in their jaws and cursed his name anew.
A few of his father’s ne’er-do-well girlfriends probably still hated him too. As a kid, he’d locked them out of the trailer he and Roarke shared, put snakes in their purses, hidden their clothes—anything to drive them away from his father, whose soft heart for the female gender often made him a patsy for unscrupulous women who needed money or a place to stay.
Jed rarely turned his bitterness toward his father. He had a deep sense of compassion, though
“You haven’t missed much on any of those three counts,” Jed observed wryly. He paused. “But even a sweet little old lady like yourself needs those chemical reactions you were talkin’ about. What about your friend? I bet the professor didn’t think you were over the hill.”
“Nate Gallagher,” she offered. Jed had unknowingly picked just the subject to cement her argument. “He said I was an ancient intellect. That’s even more intense than ‘old.’ ”
Jed considered her strange comment for a moment. Surely this Nate hombre hadn’t treated such a vibrant lady like an aging book. If he had, he was a fool. “Well, Miss Witch, you may be ancient between the ears, but you’re well-preserved on all other counts.” He reached a hand out to touch her, but she shook her head and moved farther away.
“I can’t, Jedidiah. I won’t. It’s nothing personal, so don’t be offended. I find you very attractive, which is a great compliment considering how much trouble you’ve caused me.”
“Would it be different if we weren’t at odds over this island?”
“Are you hinting that you’d trade Sancia’s future for my physical affections?”
He stood up quickly, and Thena followed. The fire in his eyes would have soldered metal. “No.”
“I’m sorry, Jedidiah. That was an ugly thing to assume. I don’t know much about this sort of thing … how men go about it, I mean.”
“Go about what?”
“Courtship.” Thena watched the amazement register in his lean face. “Uhmmm, not courtship, I know that means something serious. Flirtation. Yes, that’s it. I’m sorry I misinterpreted your routine sexual flirtation for something manipulative.”
Her straightforward manner was as mesmerizing as it was exasperating. Jed ran a hand through his brown hair. “Wildflower, there was nothin’ routine about it. I never met a gal like you before, and I don’t expect to ever meet a gal like you again.” He hesitated, annoyance growing inside him. “I don’t like playin’ word games with you. And quit treatin’ me like I’m a damned bug you’re studyin’.” His tone was full of warning. “If you’re so scared of courtship that you have to call it something else, then that’s your problem.” He turned and stalked toward the horses.
Thena gazed after him in weak surprise. No, no, she thought desperately. He can’t court me. I don’t know how to be courted. I don’t even know how to kiss.
They rode on through the forest in silence, both of them somber. Jed tried to distract himself by picturing bulldozers ripping into the green glades, scattering the palmetto plants and the flowers, plowing down the huge oaks and their canopies of moss. The only problem was, if he let that happen, this beautiful woman would hate him until the day she died. He winced at the idea.
The thought of invoking hatred had never disturbed him before. As a kid on the rodeo circuit, he’d been tough in defense of himself and his father. Roarke was blustery, outspoken, and often drunk, a bad combination that usually got him into more trouble than he could handle alone.
So from the time he was big enough to fight, Jed had come to his father’s aid. Over the years, morethan two dozen men had cursed Jed’s name viciously. He knew that on rainy days those men rubbed at the twinges of arthritic pain in their jaws and cursed his name anew.
A few of his father’s ne’er-do-well girlfriends probably still hated him too. As a kid, he’d locked them out of the trailer he and Roarke shared, put snakes in their purses, hidden their clothes—anything to drive them away from his father, whose soft heart for the female gender often made him a patsy for unscrupulous women who needed money or a place to stay.
Jed rarely turned his bitterness toward his father. He had a deep sense of compassion, though
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