MILLION DOLLAR BABY by Lisa Jackson

Author:Lisa Jackson [Jackson, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781459291232
Publisher: HQN Books
Published: 1992-07-14T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

DALLAS DRAGGED HIMSELF out of the pool, his body heaving from the exertion, his lungs craving more air. He’d swum over a mile in less than forty-five minutes, and he was breathing hard, his heart pumping crazily.

“What’re you tryin’ to do, kill yourself?” the man in the next lane asked. The other swimmer ripped off his goggles and cap, letting his wet hair fall nearly to his shoulders.

“I was a little keyed up,” Dallas replied. He didn’t know the man’s name, wasn’t really interested. He saw him here at the pool a couple of times a week and usually they swam their laps at about the same pace. Not this morning. Dallas had been wound tighter than a clock spring, his muscles tense, his attitude one notch shy of downright surly.

All because of that damned woman. He didn’t know whether to hate her or to love her. She’d upset his well-ordered life, and for that, he was angry with her; but she brought out a part of him he’d kept hidden, a part that felt younger and carefree. He supposed, if he didn’t love her, at least he owed her one.

He climbed to his feet, grabbed his towel and rubbed the rough terry cloth over his face, neck and shoulders. Seeing her yesterday with the reporter should have been warning enough, but no, he’d hung around and let down his guard enough to allow that louse of a photographer to snap a picture of them together. Not that it really mattered, he supposed. The picture probably wouldn’t be printed, and if it was, so what?

Worse yet, he’d let the man goad him into tracking her down in the barn and acting like some horny barbarian. God, what was happening to him?

In the shower room, he ignored the other men who were in various stages of dressing, shaving or blow-drying their hair. They joked and laughed over the whine of hair dryers and electric razors, but Dallas barely noticed. He’d never been part of that club of men who sought camaraderie in the locker room before facing the day.

He washed the chlorine from his skin and hair and, as they had for the past week, his thoughts swirled around Chandra. Chandra the camping guide. Chandra the seductress. Chandra the would-be mother. God, she was crazy for that kid; that much was obvious.

But Dallas wasn’t too sure about how she felt about him. Unless her emotions were as jumbled as his. Dunking his head under the shower one final time, he twisted off the knob and tried not to think about last night, how he, after a short shift at the hospital, had gone home and fallen into bed, only to dream about her—her honey-gold hair, her laughing eyes, her luscious pink lips and her breasts, round and full with dark, sweet tips.

Suddenly embarrassed at the swelling that the thought of her always brought to mind, he turned on the faucet again, gave himself a douse of ice-cold water, then muttering obscenities under his breath, wrapped a towel around his hips and walked briskly to his locker.

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