Corbin's Fancy by Linda Lael Miller

Author:Linda Lael Miller [Miller, Linda Lael]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9780671737672
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 1991-06-02T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

TEMPLE ROYCE HAD GONE TO SLEEP IN ECSTASY, AND HE awakened to more of the same. Damn. If it weren’t for Jeff, he’d be content to lie there forever on the banks of that ice cold creek, letting Miss Jewel Stroble have her way with him.

Alas, Jeff had to be dealt with. It was a matter of honor.

He sat up and Jewel drew away, pouting. Temple laughed, caught her plump face between his hands, kissed her forehead. “Another time,” he said, standing up and righting his trousers in a simultaneous motion.

“Do you mean to hurt Jeff Corbin?” Jewel asked, smoothing her grass-stained calico skirts, but making no attempt to rise from the blankets spread out on the ground.

Temple was rolling down his sleeves, refastening the cuff links. “Jewel, Jewel,” he reprimanded smoothly, “don’t tell me that you love another man!”

Jewel knew that he was mocking her and she was respectably angry. “Jeff’s—well, Jeff is real special, that’s all. I don’t want you to hurt him.”

Temple shrugged and bent to fetch his roundbrimmed hat from the grass. “I see no reason to lie to you, dearest. When I find Jeff Corbin, I’m going to make him wish he’d been stillborn.”

Jewel gnawed at her lower lip, plucked at the dew-moistened grass with the fingers of one hand. “I wouldn’t have—I wouldn’t have been with you, if I’d known.”

“The fact that I wanted to shoot him and his damned balloon right out of the air should have given you a clue, sweetness,” replied Temple, shaking out his suitjacket and shrugging into it.

“This was where they slept,” Jewel announced distractedly, frowning at the blankets. “Jeff and that woman, I mean.”

Suddenly Temple’s smooth manner was gone. “Here?” he rasped.

His agitation clearly pleased Jewel; it was balm to her wounded pride. “Here,” she confirmed, with a broad smile. “You want her, too, don’t you? You want Fancy.”

“What makes you say that?” snapped Temple, uncomfortable and annoyed. He didn’t “want” Fancy; he had to shut her up, that was all.

“You called me by her name last night, that’s what. Twice.”

Temple cursed. Fancy Jordan had been a diversion to him, an amusement. Trying to seduce her had been a pleasant game and nothing more. If he’d suffered after she disappeared—and he had—it was only because he hated losing. Now, he looked at the blankets on the ground and seethed.

Defeat was bitter, but defeat at the hands of Jeff Corbin was intolerable. “Jesus,” he muttered. And then he turned away, his determination to finish the chase and close in for the kill renewed. He’d been a fool to stay here, indulging with the likes of Jewel Stroble, letting his quarry quite literally fly away.

“He can make her beg for it!” Jewel hurled after him, with crude relish. “Ask anybody.”

Temple paused, caught in the clutches of a hot, squeezing fury. “Shut up,” he breathed.

“Jeff could make any woman do that,” persisted Jewel, blithely unruffled by Temple’s rising wrath. “He’s all man, that one.”

Temple turned and doffed his hat in a manner that was meant to be insulting.

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