Grant queried with pride as he pulled Jami close to his side and grabbed Toby’s arm with his free hand to prevent the boy from moving to the edge of the drop-off.
“Wow, we’re high,” Toby cried in awe.
“Very high.” Jami heard her voice pitch high and unsteady as a wave of dizziness assailed her. Suddenly the view went from pretty to frightening. “Oh!” she swayed back against Grant’s solid strength.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Grant murmured in her ear.
“I don’t like being this high.” She wanted to turn and bury her face in his shoulder, but bit her lip and briefly shut her eyes. “Can we go back down?”
“Of course. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I’m not scared,” she automatically responded.
“Right.” Grant grinned as he gently took her arm. “Be careful and don’t slip.” Towing Jami along behind him, Grant also kept hold of Toby’s hand, restraining the boy’s desire to charge ahead. “Go slow.”
Jami held her breath until they descended past the rock slope and reached a normal trail again.
“Are you okay?” Grant turned to her, releasing Toby’s hand to let the child scamper down the trail.
“I don’t think I like heights.”
“Is this the woman who lives in Houston, city of high-rises and multiple stacked freeways?” Concern edged the humor in his remark, as Grant cradled her chin in one hand and caressed the back of her neck with his other.
“That’s different.” Jami shut her eyes, afraid to let him read her vulnerability.
“Look at me,” he demanded huskily.
“Why?” Jami obeyed, meeting his gaze full of tenderness and compassion.
“I never would have taken you up to that cliff, if I’d known it would frighten you, Red. You know I never want to hurt you.” His words throbbed with such sincerity Jami felt tempted to believe him. No. Grant Carrington was a man who liked women. All women. She was just another one of his conquests. Still, he was being thoughtful.
“Sometimes I think you enjoy upsetting me.” Jami pressed her lips together and jerked her chin free of his touch, unaccountably disturbed by her reactions to him. His actions and consideration clouded her preconceived notions.
“I do enjoy razzing you to set off that redhead temper of yours or teasing you to make you blush.” His fingers combed through her hair, twirling a strand of copper around his index finger.
“So you admit it!” she responded, latching on to anger, the safer emotion.
“Why not? When you get mad, you’re like an angry goddess with the power to send lightning bolts from those exotic topaz eyes.” His voice dropped lower, his own eyes blazing with heat. “And when you blush, your skin glows with the sheen of a rose-tinted pearl.” Grant smiled and shrugged. “So how can I resist?”
“You get satisfaction out of tormenting me,” Jami whispered, her gaze glued to his, her emotions in turmoil.
“Piquing your temper or making you blush are minor offenses.” His hands clamped over Jami’s shoulders. “But trust me when I say I never want to cause you real distress or hurt you in any way.”
“Words are easy,” Jami returned, her entire body tensing as she strained away from Grant.
Deep lines carved into Grant’s handsome face as his fingers dug into her shoulders, his tone gruff. “What does that mean?”
“Do you need a dictionary?”
“Jami, stop measuring me by the actions of another man.”
“What do you mean?” Jami stammered, stunned by his accusation.
“Toby’s father wounded you, but you can’t judge all other men by what your ex-husband did.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“Hardly.” She glared at Grant, who glared back, neither willing to budge. She thought of flinging his relationship with Raven into his face as proof, but what if she’d misread their midnight encounter? What if he and the young widow had met each other by accident? She had seen Raven put the moves on Grant, but to be truthful, she’d never seen him respond.
Jami jerked out of Grant’s hold and marched down the trail, conscious of him just behind her. What if she was wrong about the man being a womanizer? How could she rebuild the only barrier she had for defense against his powerful Carrington charm? She nearly stumbled over a tangle of vines, thinking it was difficult enough to fight him along with fighting herself. Yet, how else could she protect her heart?
Grant watched Jami descend the trail in front of him, her curvy bottom swaying in her close-fitting jeans. If his brothers expected Grandmother Margaret’s Cupid key to cast a love spell over Jami, they’d be greatly disappointed.