The Counterfeit Cowgirl Read Online Free PDF

about what you did to that poor old lady. You’re a buzzard of the worst sort, cowgirl. A man would have to be a condor to deal with the likes of you.”
    Felicity’s silver-banded teeth flashed at him in a grin of genuine amusement. “In that case, you’re in serious trouble, because you aren’t a condor. You’re a cardinal.”
    “A what?” He reeled mentally, more off-balance than he’d ever been in dealing with a woman.
    “The male cardinal is a very family-oriented bird,” she informed him. “He often feeds other nests of baby birds besides his own.” She nodded briskly in the face of his open-mouthed stare. “If ever I saw a human male who resembles a male cardinal, you’re the one.”
    Aaron boiled with emotion. Chief among the mix of feelings was the certainty that this woman had seen straight through him and knew exactly what sort of man he was in spite of the tough outer shell he so carefully cultivated.
    “If ever I saw a female buzzard, you’re it. Let’s get this over with, cowgirl. I haven’t got all day.”
    “Sure you have,” Felicity taunted. “That’s what your problem is. You’ve got all day for anyone who needs you.”
    Once more Aaron had the uncomfortable sensation that he’d been seen through. “You know all about it, I’m sure.” He abandoned the fiery rage for icy precision.
    “As a matter of fact, I do. All my life I’ve suffered from an overprotective caretaker. Believe me, I know one when I see one.” She smiled, and Aaron’s gaze focused on her lips as they parted to reveal the silver bands on her teeth.
    “Your vision wouldn’t be obstructed, would it?” He scowled at her in the way that made his employees quake in their cowboy boots.
    He wondered what the braces would feel like beneath the softness of her lips if he were to kiss her. The thought increased the intensity of his frown.
    Felicity wasn’t noticeably impressed by the famous Whitaker scowl.
    “My optometrist says I’ve got perfect vision,” she assured him. “As for my woodwork, don’t worry your head, Mr. Whitaker. I’m counting on soap and water to take care of the problem.”
    “Nevertheless, I’d better see my nephews’ damages for myself,” Aaron said.
    He couldn’t help the surge of pleasure he felt at her total unconcern. These days, there were only a few people in town who didn’t fear him.
    Felicity looked at him thoughtfully. “I don’t think I want you in my house. You might take it into your head that I need protecting from a mouse or something.”
    “The only thing you’ll need protection from in Mrs. Tucker’s house is a cockroach,” Aaron said silkily. “Let’s go, Miss Clayton. I need to get back.”
    “Ah, yes. The big barbecue. Your nephews are convinced the ghost will snatch them bodily out of the crowd. Maybe you should hire a special ghost-busting bodyguard.”
    “Someone such as yourself, Miss Clayton?”
    Felicity tossed him a glance of contempt. “I’ve already done my part with the garlic necklaces. Excuse me, please. I’d better tackle that glue while it’s still in a liquid state. Get lost, Mr. Whitaker.”
    She turned and marched through the tall grass toward her house, outrage in every line of her slim body. When his boots clattered on the wooden porch behind her, she whirled to confront him.
    “I said get lost, Mr. Whitaker.”
    “I said I was coming in to assess the damages, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” Aaron gave her the stare that never failed to make secretaries hop and car salesmen quail.
    “Well, I don’t want you to. Now buzz off before I call the sheriff and tell him you’re harassing me.” She wrestled in vain with the doorknob. “Great. Now the lock has decided to work.”
    “Here,” he said. “Allow me. Mrs. Tucker showed me the intricacies of this excuse for a lock some time ago.”
    He took the doorknob, rattled it expertly, and pounded the exact center of the door. It flew open.
    “Unfortunately, someone