Rogue's Revenge - By Gail MacMillan Page 0,26
me, I saw the problem more times than I care to recall when I was a GP.”
“Cam…” Myra reached to hand him the proper utensil, but he caught her slender hand and drew it, palm up, to his lips in a slow, sensuous gesture.
“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll behave,” he murmured. “Sorry if this old cowboy got out of hand. Forgive me?”
“Always,” she breathed, and the light in her mother’s eyes told Allison Myra Armstrong definitely wasn’t one of those women to whom her father referred.
She was glad her parents weren’t like Candace and her husband. The Breckenridges were a deeply troubled couple, and Heath Oakes wasn’t making it any easier for them. That womanizing barbarian was a major factor in their problems as well as her own. But not for long. She turned to Paul and smiled.
“Let’s dance,” she said.
It’s a waltz. Take advantage of it, Paul. Hold me close, whisper sweet nothings in my ear. Blast that woods-hero clone out of my mind once and for all.
“Your wish is my command.” Paul stood and swept her a mock bow. “Excuse us, Cam, Myra.”
He drew her into his arms. “Now, this is more like it,” he breathed, moving her about the dance floor in time to the music. “Nothing like a little slow dancing to soothe the savage beast. Or was that savage breast? I never was very good at romantic literature.”
“Breast.” Allison nestled against him and tried not to let the scent of his three-hundred-dollars-a-tiny-bottle aftershave rankle her. Some day she would have to find a subtle way to tell him she detested it.
“Paul?” She smiled at him, hoping he’d take the hint, hoping he’d recognize that she was searching for romance.
“Ummmm? Hey, hon, isn’t that Harrison Graves over there? He’s CEO of that new brewery…big bucks. I wonder if he’s interested in investing. Follow my lead. I’ll dance us over there. Maybe I can bump you into him…get his attention. Look pretty. Smile. This could be a big one.”
****
“Damn!”
Allison looked down at the slack left front tire of her car and breathed the curse.
“Allison, please.” Her mother, standing beside her in the club parking lot, cautioned, “Remember where you are.” She glanced around at guests leaving the facility. “Remember you’re a lady.”
“Sorry, Mom. It’s so damned—darned—exasperating. I thought roadside assistance would have checked for damage before they left it.”
“Not a big deal.” Her father put an arm around her shoulders. “You can ride home with us. Your mother said you plan to stay the night and discuss lodge business in the morning.”
“Good idea.” Her father’s plan had more than one advantage. “We can drop Paul at his apartment.” She ignored the head-shaking grimace he was favoring her with behind her parents’ backs. “I’m sure he’s tired. He’s been trying to sew up a big business deal with Harrison Graves most of the night.”
“Al…” He began the protest, but she silenced him with a finger to his lips and a sly smile.
“I’m taking a few days off to settle Gramps’ will, but I won’t have to spend my nights with lawyers. We’ll have time—lots of time—alone together.”
“Well, okay. Promise?”
“I said we will, okay?” Something inside her snapped at his prodding. “Don’t push.”
“Geez, Al. You’ve really got a bad case of the crankies or something. Whatever it is, I hope you get rid of it soon.”
“Don’t worry, I will,” she muttered, thinking of Heath. That night she dreamed of a tall, dark, handsome savage in a loincloth.
The next morning she got up early, dressed in her riding habit, and hurried downstairs to find her father finishing his breakfast of coffee, juice, and cereal.
“Your mother and Jack are still sleeping,” he greeted her, with one of his wide, cowboy grins. “She worked that room real hard last night. I see you’re going riding. How’s that mare of yours? I’ve got to get out there one day soon to see the fine filly she gave birth to…when was it…couple of months ago?”
“Mother and baby are both doing spectacular, thanks for asking.” Allison poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table to smile across at her father. “And, yes, you do have to make time to visit Pride and her baby, little Joy. Dad, honestly, she’s so cute, with her little whisk of a tail and that lightning blaze down her face…”
“The love of animals lives on in the Armstrong-Adams dynasty.” He favored her with one of his crooked grins that Allison thought made him look roguishly delightful. “Someday soon