Sweet Enemy Read Online Free PDF Page A

the answer he needed.
    "I thought so," he said, leaning back in his chair to study her
through narrowed eyes. "Running never solved anything, Maggie."
    She glared at him, feeling something break inside her. "I need
your advice like a hole in the head," she snapped, her face
wounded. "What are you trying to do to me, Clint? Wasn't what
Philip did to me enough without you trying to shatter the few
pieces of me he left intact? Why do you enjoy hurting me?"
    "Don't you know, honey?" he asked in a dangerously quiet
tone.
    It was the stranger's face again, not Clint's, and she stared at
him curiously. "I…I don't think I know you at all
sometimes," she said involuntarily.
    "You don't." He gulped down the remainder of his coffee
and lit a cigarette. "You're wallowing in self-pity, Irish, or didn't you realize it? Poor little girl, betrayed by her
fiance, left alone at the altar… well, I'm fresh out of
sympathy. He was a damned two-timing cheat, and you're well rid of
him. All he hurt was your pride, little icicle," he said
ruthlessly. "You wouldn't recognize love if it came up and sat on
your foot."
    "I suppose you would, being such an expert!" she flashed.
    His eyes glinted at her over a mocking smile. "That's more like
it," he chuckled.
    She frowned. "What?"
    He rose, pausing by her chair on his way out, one long arm
sliding in front of her as he leaned down. "I told you before,
baby," he murmured at her ear, "I like it when you fight me. That's
the easiest way to tell that you aren't trying to bury your head in
the past."
    She flushed, suddenly understanding- or, almost
understanding-his behavior last night.
    "I
don't want to spend the whole two weeks fighting you,"
she grumbled.
    His fingers caught her chin and raised her eyes to his. All the
levity was gone from his hard, dark face now. "Why don't you get
Emma to pack us a picnic lunch?" he asked softly, "and bring it
down to the feedlot around noon. We'll go down by the river and
eat."
    "B…but, the sale; all those invitations, and the…the
publicity…?" she stammered.
    One long finger traced the soft curve of her mouth in a silence
that made her unsteady breathing audible. "I'll lay you down
under that gnarled old oak," he whispered deeply, holding her eyes,
"and teach you all the things Philip should have had the patience
to teach you."
    She blushed furiously and tore her eyes away. "I…I really
don't need any lessons, thank you," she said shortly. She jerked
away from his lean hand. "Once burned, twice shy, Clint. You won't bring me to my knees again, not
ever!"
    He didn't seem to be fazed by her passionate outburst. He
only smiled. "Won't I? Don't underestimate me, honey."
    "I learned early not to underestimate the enemy," she
replied.
    He went out laughing just as Emma returned with the coffee
and a plate of eggs, bacon, and fresh biscuits. "Now, what's got
into him?" she asked curiously.
    "The devil," Maggie said tightly.
    Maggie was just finishing an advertisement on the sale for
the local weekly paper when she heard a sudden loud pounding at the
front door, and Emma's quick footsteps going to answer it.
There was the snap as the door opened, and a sudden jubilant
cry from Emma, and then two voices mingling, Emma's excited one and
a laughing, pleasant male one.
    "Maggie! Come here!" Emma called Puzzled at the commotion,
Maggie stuck her head around the door and found her eyes held by a pair
of dark blue ones in a deeply tanned face outlined by thick blond
hair.
    "Well, hush my mouth, if it isn't the girl I swore undying love
to on the stage in our sixth-grade play!" Brent Halmon grinned, his
eyes sparkling at her from the hall.
    "Hi, Sir Got-A-Lott, where's your hawse?!" she laughed back.
    He threw open the door and swung her up in his lean arms,
planting a smacking kiss on her cheek. "By gosh, you've grown,
Maggie!" he teased, giving her a lengthy appraisal as he set her
back on her feet. "Did you really get this pretty in just four
years?"
    "This isn't my real