O'Brien's Lady - By Marsha Doss Page 0,28

covered it with his own. "Stay, Sonny. Help me train him and we'll watch him run together."

The floor was moving under her suddenly and she felt a stab of pain in the pit of her stomach.

Michael was still holding her hand and she couldn't stop the trembling in her legs.

It would be so easy to let herself believe that look in his eyes or let herself promise to stay, but Sonny could not decide whether she should trust Michael. After all, if she caused problems at the end of the six month period, then he could stand to lose the farm that he now shared with her.

And, why would she give up the glamour she had found in Paris and the excitement she enjoyed with

Pierre? Those things didn't come along in someone's life everyday. At least not in hers. No, she told herself as she pulled her hand away, she mustn't let her emotions rule her good sense of judgement. This was just a ploy to keep the farm, and she had to recognize Michael's motives as well as her own.

She was relieved to see the waitress coming toward them with two large earthenware plates.

The food was hot and delicious and Sonny was surprised that she cleaned her plate."working on the farm stimulates the appetite," Michael said, "among other things."

Sonny ignored the implication of his remark as she took a sip of her Margarita. As she felt the last bit of salt cling to her mouth, she slowly ran her tongue around the corners. Michael was following her actions carefully, knowing that she was unaware of the sensual effect she was creating.

Her hair was full and softly waved around her face and the small nose that turned up was just the least bit shiny. Michael remembered what it had felt like to kiss her and to taste her alluring sweetness.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, suddenly aware that she was being carefully scrutinized.

"Why?"

"You're looking at me in a strange way."

"Just memorizing your face," Michael said softly.

Sonny shivered involuntarily. Stop it, Michael, she thought, before I forget what you're trying to do to me. Her eyes looked away from his broad face and the thick eyebrows that arched slightly, gave him the appearance of a rogue. A very handsome rogue, at that.

"You're wasting all this small talk on me," Sonny said quickly. "Why not save it for Carol Ann Layne."

Michael smiled wickedly. "Do I hear a little jealousy in your voice?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you Sonny."

"Why would I be jealous of a woman with false eyelashes and black roots." Sonny traced the outline of her glass with her finger. "That would be absurd wouldn't it?"

Michael leaned across the table. "Would it?"

Sonny licked the last bit of salt from her finger and placed the glass to the table. She didn't trust herself to look at his eyes because she could already feel the color rush to her face. Why did Michael always catch her off-guard? She had felt so ready for him this evening, so much in charge. She quickly recovered her composure.

"I think we should be getting back home," she said as she dabbed the corners of her mouth with the napkin.

Michael leaned forward, until his face was very close to hers. "Sure, if that's what you want."

Sonny stiffened and pushed her chair back. In one fluid movement, Michael was behind her, gently touching her elbow and helping her to her feet. When he made no effort to release his hold, she held her head high and walked out beside him.

He's going to kiss me, she thought all the way home. She imagined him stopping in the driveway, pulling her over and all but crushing her with his firm mouth. She could almost feel his hot breath spilling over her. No…he'd walk her to the front door, then…What am I doing, she thought. I don't want him to kiss me!

Sonny had never waited for Pierre's kiss. It was something was offered as a sign of affection. Nothing passionate and certainly nothing that awakened anything. And, it was comfortable. She recalled evenings with Pierre when her thoughts had been on the next day's work and not on the smell of his cologne or the dark hair on his arms and chest or…she looked at Michael's profile, silhouetted against the window and her heart did flip flops.

Michael pulled into the driveway and stopped the motor. Coming around to the passenger's side, he opened the door and extended his hand. Sonny stepped out mechanically.

This is it, she thought.