Wrangling the Redhead - By Sherryl Woods Page 0,13
whinny of protest made her pause. She bit back a smile. “Think it over. I can wait.”
She sat there patiently, perfectly still, the sweet chunk of apple in plain sight. With something that sounded almost like a sigh, Midnight edged closer until he could take it daintily from her hand. Satisfied with the treat and the lack of danger from the human who’d offered it, he came closer still and nuzzled at her pocket. Only then did Lauren dare to touch him.
She rubbed her hand along his sleek neck. Though he didn’t skittishly dance away, he trembled at her light touch. The reaction was telling. The knowledge that someone had badly mistreated this magnificent animal made Lauren sick to her stomach. But the fact that he was already beginning to trust her humbled her.
“Good morning, handsome,” she murmured.
“You talking to me?” a low-pitched masculine voice inquired lazily.
Lauren’s head snapped around to find Wade standing just inches behind her, close enough to send Midnight dancing away. She watched the horse leave with real regret, then turned back to the man.
How had she missed Wade’s approach or the heat radiating from his body? Once again she was struck by the way he managed to make an ordinary T-shirt and jeans look like designer clothing. No man had a right to look that good, that tempting, at this hour of the morning.
Better yet, he was holding two mugs of steaming coffee. He offered her one.
“I saw you heading over this way and decided this would be a good time to make peace,” he explained.
She accepted the cup with caution. “Then the coffee’s not laced with arsenic?”
“Not by me,” he assured her. “You got any enemies around I don’t know about?”
“Not in Winding River,” she said, leaving out the fact that there were quite a few people in Hollywood who wouldn’t shed any tears if she disappeared forever. She’d discovered that jealousy and greed could turn friend to enemy overnight in the film business. Actresses she’d considered friends had bailed when she won a coveted role. Award nominations stirred envy, but that was almost the least of it. Everything had been a competition, with winners and losers.
Glad to be away from all that, she took an appreciative sip of the coffee. “Thanks. I needed this.” The talk with her agent had used up all Lauren’s reserves of energy.
“Not usually up this early?” Wade asked, the disdain back in his voice.
She sighed. For a minute there she’d almost believed they could make a fresh start. Instead, it had apparently been a lull before a new barrage of insults.
“Always up this early,” she corrected, determined not to escalate the fight. Let Wade do that, if he couldn’t stop himself. “But I’ll never get used to it. I’m a night owl by nature.”
“Hard to be a night owl on a ranch. Too many chores have to be done at daybreak.”
“And I grew up doing most of them,” she said. “I might not like morning, but I follow through on my responsibilities.”
He seemed duly chastised by the rebuke. “Look, Miss…”
“Lauren will do.”
He nodded. “Okay, then, Lauren. We obviously got off on the wrong foot yesterday. And it sounds as if we’re pretty darn close to doing the same thing again. How about if we start fresh with no preconceived notions? I’m Wade, by the way.”
Given the fact that he wasn’t going to go away, Lauren was more than willing to meet him halfway. They were going to have to work together. It made more sense to be friends than enemies. She held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Wade.”
He took her outstretched hand in a grasp that was warm and all-too-brief. Even that quick brush of callused fingers across softer skin was enough to send a jolt of awareness through her. Work-roughened hands had always been more appealing to her than the manicured hands of most of her male costars. Hands with the texture of sandpaper could bring the skin alive. Just the thought was enough to make her tremble the way Midnight had earlier.
Wade studied her with a knowing look. “Cold?”
“No. I’m fine,” she said, embarrassed at having been caught reacting to his touch. “So, what’s the plan? I assume you have one.”
“Grady says I should let you try whatever you like with the horses, as long as you don’t get yourself killed. Since that’s not a notion that’s real popular with me either, how about going for a ride with me? Let me see how