Lacy Read Online Free PDF Page A

not
going to have the family laughing at me a second time. You don't even have to
touch me, Cole," she conceded, hoping proximity might accomplish what
blackmail couldn't. "But you are going to have to share my room. If you
want me back..." she added calculatingly. "And I think you need me—at
least to help you cope with Katy. Don't you?"
    "Haven't you any pride, woman?"
    "No. I gave it up the day I married
you," she told him. "My pride, my self-respect, and my hopes of a
rosy future. If you want me back, I'll come. But on my terms."
    His eyes were fierce, black as coal. He drew in
a slow, deep breath. "Your terms," he said curtly. "Blackmail,
you mean."
    He looked so formidable that she almost backed
down. Then she remembered how she'd learned to treat George when he got out of
hand. She wondered absently if it might work on stone?
    She moved a little closer, coquettishly, and
deliberately batted her long eyelashes at him. "Kiss me, you fool!"
she said vampishly, lifting her face and parting her red lips.
    He stared down at her through narrowed eyes and
hoped like hell she wouldn't notice the sudden thunder of his heartbeat at that
innocent teasing. "Stop that "he said irritably, giving nothing away.
"All right," he said, with a rough sigh, "we'll share a
room."
    "Finally, a chink in the stone!" She
sighed, smiling wickedly, and he actually seemed to soften a little. Miracle of
miracles! Had she accidentally hit on a way to get to him?
    He scowled at her for another few seconds, half
irritated, half intrigued by this new Lacy. He pursed his lips and almost
smiled down at the picture she made. "I'll pick you up in the morning at
seven." He glanced toward the hall. "You'd better send that pack of
coyotes home."
    She curtsied. "Yes, Your Worship!"
    "Lacy ..." he said warningly.
    "You're so handsome when you're mad,"
she sighed.
    The scowl got worse. He actually seemed to
vibrate, and she felt a fever of pleasure that she could knock him off-balance.
If he were vulnerable, there might be a little hope. Eight months, wasted;
years wasted—and now she'd discovered the way to reach him!
    "Good night," he said firmly.
    She gave him an impish little grin.
"Wouldn't you like to stay the night?"
    "I would not," he said shortly.
    "Then enjoy your last night alone,"
she said, with a gleam in her blue eyes. She turned and walked away, on legs
that could hardly hold her. And she was laughing when she reached the room
where the party was still in full swing.
    But the man letting himself out the front door
wasn't laughing. He never should have agreed to her terms. He should have told
her to take them and go to hell. Only he was so hungry for the sight of her
that his mind had stopped working. It was probably all bluff on her part, about
sleeping with that tall clown. But how could he risk it? By God, he'd beat the
man to death if he so much as touched her!
    The violence of his feelings disturbed him. She
was just a woman, just Lacy, who'd been around so long she was like the flowers
his mother always put on the hall table. But things had been different since
that night with her. He hadn't meant to touch her. The marriage had been
forced; he'd been determined to find some way to drive her from the ranch
without ever consummating it. And then he'd started kissing her, and one thing
had led to another. He wasn't sorry, except for hurting her. It had been magic.
But it was too big a risk to
     How in hell was he going to share a room with
her and keep his secret? In that intimacy, which he'd avoided for years even
with his men, how could he keep her from finding out?
    He'd lose her when she knew, he thought. That
hadn't bothered him at first, but he'd had too much time to think. He'd missed
her. He'd wanted her. Avoiding her hadn't worked. He'd tried that, eight
months' worth, and tonight was the first time he'd felt alive since she'd left
him. He sighed. Well, he'd take it one day at a time. That was what Turk always
said: Stop gulping life