A Tradition of Pride: Mississippi by Janet Dailey

Author:Janet Dailey [Dailey, Janet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780759237988
Google: FrdmxbYhdxkC
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 1980-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

BREATHING HEAVILY, Lara backed away warily. Rans was between her and the door. With the swiftness of his reflexes, there wasn't a chance that she could run by him and escape. He made no move toward her, standing there with his hands resting on his hips, dimples carved by the arrogant smile, brown eyes glittering brightly as they swept knowingly over her.

Rumpled red gold hair fell loosely around her shoulders in alluring disarray. The top two buttons of her blouse had come undone during the struggle, gaping the front to reveal the curving swell of her breasts, rising and falling in agitated breathing.

The composed mask was gone from her face. A becoming pink shade rouged her cheekbones. Her widened eyes were a turbulent green, guardedly alert to the slightest movement by Rans. Nervously Lara moistened her lips, which had become dry with fear.

"Get out of here." Her voice quivered and Rans laughed lowly at the weakness of her command.

A retreating foot nudged an object behind her. Lara knew she must be close to the stable wall. She let her gaze leave Rans for the split second it took to glance over her shoulder. A pitchfork was leaning against the wall. Before the thought was formed in her mind, she was grabbing it, pointing the pronged ends at Rans.

"Get out of here," she ordered, more certain now with a weapon in her hands that she was able to defend herself.

The amusement faded from his smile, although the smiling expression remained on his rough features. His eyes narrowed with measuring thoughtfulness. There was a faint tensing of his previously relaxed and mocking attitude.

With a flash of intuition, Lara realized she had made a mistake. Rans had never intended to try to recapture her as she had feared. If he had, he would have done it already. No, he had only been playing with her like a satiated cat plays with a trapped mouse for the fun of it, then walks away, letting the mouse go free for another day's game.

Lara wavered. Brandishing the pitchfork had changed the game, but it was too late to put it down now. The threat was made and she had to follow through with it, or cower submissively at his feet. That she would never do.

His hands moved from his hips, alert and ready for battle. With slow purposeful strides, Rans walked toward her, narrowing the gap between himself and the pointed ends of the pitchfork. She tried to swallow away the tightness in her throat.

"Stay away from me," Lara warned, tipping her head slightly to the side as she raised the pitchfork a fraction of an inch.

Rans didn't alter his stride, stopping only when the pointed ends of the pitchfork were pricking the front of his shirt. Nervously her fingers clenched and unclenched the handle. Courage deserted her with the blatant way he was ignoring her threat.

"Don't you want to run the pitchfork through me?" he taunted, his gaze boring into her troubled green eyes. "A woman is entitled to defend her honor.

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