Rustler's Heart by Amanda McIntyre

Author:Amanda McIntyre
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Tags: Book 2, The Kinnison Legacy
Publisher: Decadent Publishing
Published: 2014-02-25T00:00:00+00:00

***

“You like to dance?” She kept her eyes on her CDs, in a futile attempt to ease the pounding of her heart. The look in his eyes had been predatory, the set of his jaw firm on his stoic face. She felt the tension radiating off him from where she stood. Long enough? She wanted to ask him to explain his comment. Dancing on stage had been her profession, but off-stage—a type of release, how she rid herself of pent-up frustration. And this guy was the very reason she’d been tied up in knots for weeks, and not the kind they both might enjoy.

“Not especially.” He slid open the screen door, stopping to test that it fit the frame, properly. Such a stickler for perfection. She both admired and detested that attribute of his. It was evident in how he designed and constructed his work and on a personal level, she just bet his standards were as meticulous. How he’d reacted after that kiss made it clear to her that she’d never be able to meet those standards.

He gave her a cursory glance. “Do you have a beer?”

She nodded toward the fridge. “Help yourself.” A thin line darkened the center back of his grey tee shirt. Her mouth lifted at the image of him bent over his sawhorse, working diligently on another project. The fabric hugged his muscles, moving with them as he leaned down to retrieve a drink. She followed the line of sweat with an appreciative gaze to where it met the top of his waistband. It’d been bad enough to have tossed and turned with the memory of how delicious he’d looked in that tux, but the fit of those worn jeans and that old tee shirt made her fingers itch, imagining his firm body beneath. “You seemed to like dancing with Caroline.” Her mumbled comment popped out without a thought and she hoped he hadn’t heard it. He had.

He turned, pinning her with that tempest blue-green gaze. “That is none of your business.”

Her pride challenged, or so it seemed whenever they were in a room together more than five minutes, stiffened her back. She held up her hand to deflect his comment. “I wouldn’t dream of interfering.”

“Good.” He took a long drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “There’s nothing there to interfere with.

Boy, she wanted to ask more about that, but she dared not. No stranger to sexual tension, she’d learned through her profession how to draw in a man’s attention simply by reading his face by making a connection. Rein was a different story. Trying to read him, was like driving a dark, winding road at eighty miles an hour, at the mercy of what lay around the next curve.

“It’s late. What’d you need to talk about that couldn’t wait ‘til morning??” She glanced at the clock seeing it well past midnight.

He eyed her as he took a long pull from his beer. “These.” He dropped the folder on the cabinet.

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