Chapter Seven

Annie probably only imagined her lips were bruised after Brady ravaged her mouth like that. What she could claim with absolute certainty, however, was just how shaken she was from his powerful assault on her senses. So shaken that, when he’d finally released her, she had walked away from him in a daze.

That wasn’t the worst of it. Far from it. The worst of it was how swollen with raw desire she remained through the rest of the day, her body longing for his on every level.

A mistake, that impulsive kiss and her wild response to it. A terrible mistake Brady must have realized himself. Otherwise, he would have tried to stop her when, without a word, she had left him there in the corral.

She decided it must never happen again. Given their conflicting temperaments and widely different goals, there was no future in it. The two of them simply made no sense, whatever her treacherous body wanted.

Something else did make sense, though. She hated failure. And she was just stubborn enough not to have either Brady or her grandfather end up thinking she wasn’t capable of learning how to ride. Yes, even if she’d wanted nothing to do with horses.

That had to change, which was why she forced herself to make secret visits to Jasper in his stall. It wasn’t as difficult as she’d feared, not when she brought apples or sugar to offer him. In no time at all, the gelding nickered a welcome whenever she appeared in the barn. To her delight, they fast became friends.

That was the easy part. Mounting Jasper again was something else. Annie knew she couldn’t manage it on her own. She would have to find a teacher. Not Brady, of course. He was out of the question. In the end, she was able to enlist a willing Luther. The lessons were conducted whenever Brady was safely away seeing to his own spread.

Because Luther was an even-tempered, always patient instructor, Annie made rapid progress. He taught her not only how to ride Jasper but how to saddle him as well. When she and the gelding were ready to leave the corral, the cow hand accompanied them on his horse out on the range itself. Sooner than either of them thought possible, she no longer needed Luther at her side coaching her.

Annie would never forget the sight of Brady’s face the afternoon he returned earlier than usual from his ranch to discover Annie cantering in alone from the grasslands on Jasper’s back.

Reining in the gelding, she greeted Brady with a casual, “Better close your mouth, cowboy, before you start catching flies.”

“How in the name of all that’s holy did you ever—?”

“Practice, Malone, practice. That and an understanding teacher. We can thank Luther for that.” She leaned over and patted Jasper on his neck. “You’ll have to excuse me. Ol’ Jasper here is ready for his oats. Aren’t you, boy?”

With a little wave, she rode off in the direction of the barn, leaving a thunderstruck Brady staring after her.

****

Brady had finished his daily report to Walter on the WJ activities. He started to leave when the old man waved him back in his chair.

“Hold on a minute, boy. There’s something else I’d like to discuss with you.”

“If it’s about that new windmill—”

“Not the windmill. This is about Annie.”

Brady settled down again in the chair, but he stirred uneasily. “What about her?”

“I been chewing on the subject of how she’s been spending too much time in here with me.”

“Apparently not all of her time,” Brady said dryly. “Or aren’t you aware that it’s Luther now who’s been giving her riding lessons?”

“Oh, I knew. Told me so herself. Guess, after all, you were just too busy yourself. Turning out to be a good horsewoman, too.”

“Uh-huh. So, what is on your mind then?”

“Like I was saying, she’s had no company but me and Luther. And nobody can brag on Luther being much of that. A young woman like my granddaughter sometimes needs the society of people her own age.”

The sly old devil was up to something. And he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like it. “Has Annie complained she’s bored? Wants to go into town? I can’t see her joining the Ladies’ Quilting Society.”

“No, nothing like that. But there is the monthly dance in Banning. Two nights from now, isn’t it? I did mention it to her, as a matter of fact, and she thought it was something she might enjoy.”

“Did she? And why are you telling me?” Brady asked, already knowing just why.

“Well, she can’t go alone. Someone would have to escort her, a' course.”

“Naturally. Just who did you have in mind?”

“Why, you.”

“You can forget that, Walter. Or haven’t you also heard that Annie and I aren’t on the best of terms these days?”

When were you ever? And since that morning in the corral, it’s clear as glass that the two of you just don’t mix well together, whatever that devil on your shoulder keeps whispering in your ear.

“Hang it all, boy, it’s not like I’m asking you to court her. You don’t have to stay with her once you’re there. Annie is a lively, pretty young lady. She’ll find her own company.”

No, Brady thought, they’ll find her. Knowing all the local bucks that would be there, Annie wouldn’t lack for partners on the dance floor. Not that this was something for him to worry about. That’s what he told himself, anyway.

“’Sides,” Walter pointed out, “there’s Doreen Thomas. She’s sure to be there. Always sweet on you, wasn’t she? And if I remember rightly, you never seemed to mind that. Haven’t seen each other lately either, have you?”

“This isn’t going to work, Walter. And don’t go and get into one of your tempers about it. You know how bad they are for you.”

“Well, if that’s how you feel about it...” The old man was calmly thoughtful for a few seconds. “Guess I can get one of the other boys to take her.”

The hell you will.

The mere suggestion of that immediately fired something hot in Brady’s brain. Something about himself he didn’t like. He didn’t stop to name or analyze it. He just knew that, the way the WJ ranch hands devoured Annie with their gazes whenever she was anywhere near them, he wouldn’t trust a one of them going off on a starry night alone with her. Not even dependable Luther. He’d once considered ordering Annie to stay away from the hands when they were working, but he knew she would have just laughed at him and done what she pleased. As always.

Not this time. Wise or not, he would take her to that dance himself. “I’ve changed my mind, Walter. I’ll escort your granddaughter for you.”

“That’s fine, boy. I’ll let her know.”

Brady tried to imagine Annie’s reaction to that. Whatever it was, neither Annie nor Walter enlightened him. Nor had he the courage to ask.

****

Dark gabardine trousers, matching coat, checkered vest, high, starched collar, and a silk tie. Brady rarely had the occasion to wear them. Or the desire. But he was wearing the outfit the evening of the dance. He was damn uncomfortable in it, too, as he waited impatiently in the front hall for Annie to come down from her room.

He thought of asking Delores to find out what was keeping her when he heard a rustle of skirts behind him on the stairs. He swung around to find a vision in red satin descending into the hall.

Brady was familiar with the expression of “a sight that took a man’s breath away.” It just hadn’t ever happened to him. Not with any woman at least. Until now when he actually struggled for air as he stared at Annie in a dress that was pure sin.

It was full-skirted, gathered up at the back in a saucy flounce and the bodice so tight he wondered how she’d managed to get into the thing. But that was all just fashion and not what had him squirming as he stood there gaping at her neckline. The cut was so daringly low that the tops of her creamy breasts were exposed. Breasts that were so swollen inside that bodice he feared they would spill out altogether. And reproached himself for hoping at the same time that they would.

Brady needed all his effort to tear his gaze away from her bosom and focus on her face. This didn’t help much in easing the arousal that had him in its grip.

She had piled her russet hair on top of her head, its waves gleaming in the glow of the lamplight in the hall. The light, together with the shimmering crimson of the dress, seemed to emphasize both her sultry mouth and the little mole just above one corner that had always intrigued him. He could almost believe the dress had been designed for that exact purpose.

Brady had never seen Annie look so desirable. What’s more, the smug little smile on her mouth told him she was fully aware of just how much he was suffering over the sight of her.

“My, my,” she said, deliberately deepening his discomfort as her gaze slowly traveled over the length of him. “Who would imagine you could look like this? Very dashing, Malone. And please don’t let the compliment go to your head.”

It wasn’t his head he was worried about. It was the damn bulge in a pair of trousers that suddenly felt far too tight.

“You ready to go?” he said gruffly.

“I am,” she said, scooping up the delicate white shawl she’d draped over the newel post and preceding him to the door.

The open buggy, its side lamps lit against the darkness, waited for them below the porch with the team that drew it.

“More wonders,” she said as he handed her into the buggy. “It won’t turn into a pumpkin at midnight, will it?”

“You worried about that, Cinderella?” He settled in the seat beside her and took the reins.

“Not as long as the horses don’t turn into mice. I’m not partial to mice.”

Brady waited until they were rolling along the drive before he risked a glance in her direction. “Aren’t you, um, cold in that dress?”

“I don’t think so. It’s a mild night, and I have the shawl here if I get chilled later on. Don’t you like the dress?”

“A little revealing, isn’t it?”

“You think it’s wicked?”

“Depends on what you plan to do in it.” Or out of it, he thought, and immediately regretted the urge that had prompted the thought.

“I don’t think my father thought it was wicked when he bought it for my mother.”

“Another treasure in that wardrobe of hers, huh?”

“It is,” she said, with an uncharacteristic dreaminess. “My father adored my mother. He wanted her to have pretty things. My grandfather, of course, resented the money he spent on her.”

“And now Walter would like his granddaughter to go into town and buy her own pretty things. Or so he said just the other day.”

Annie shook her head. “It wouldn’t be practical.”

Brady knew what she meant. That she would have no need for such fripperies when she left here. Why did the eventual certainty of that make him sad? Better not let yourself think about that, Malone.

“This is nice,” she said.

“What is?”

“Our talking like this in a friendly way. Why haven’t we ever done that before?”

“Too much pulling in opposite directions, I guess.”

“Anyway, it’s nice.”

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed, and meant it.

In fact, Brady was actually feeling mellow as they drove on under a sky spangled with countless stars and the pleasant scent of sagebrush drifting in from the broad range. That his emotion had something to do with Annie seated close beside him in a red satin dress was undeniable. That is, if he’d permitted himself to admit it.

****

Brady’s mellow state lasted only until they entered the spacious hall that blazed with the light of gas chandeliers. Then it was replaced by a tension that he feared would probably only get worse before the evening ended. Annie at his side was nothing but relaxed.

“I’m impressed,” she said gaily. “All this for a monthly dance.”

“The hall is used for other purposes.”

“Such as?”

“Grange meetings, concerts, and plays when traveling troupes come to town.”

“I guess that explains the stage,” she said, indicating the platform at the end of the hall where the fiddles and piano were already in use by capable hands that entertained the assembled crowd with a lively march.

“There’ll be a proper stage when the new opera house is finished.”

“An opera house! Well, Banning is going modern.”

Brady only half listened to her. The other half of his attention wandered in the direction of the punch bowl in the corner. The old hens were gathered around it, eyeing Annie in her bold gown. He could imagine their scandalized whispers.

Annie must have noticed his scowl and understood it. She laughed. “Don’t worry, Brady. This isn’t the first time a bunch of old ladies have been shocked by my wickedness.”

With the life she’d led, he supposed that was very true. Anyway, he decided, casting his gaze around the hall, the young women weren’t staring at her dress with disapproval. Their expressions registered envy.

But it was neither the old hens nor the young ladies that deepened his scowl. It was the young bucks with their eager eyes fastened on Annie. Damn it all, he knew this would happen. She was already a sensation.

He figured he would have to save her by claiming the first dance. The other dances he would worry about later. Before he could do that, a portly, white-haired figure approached them.

“Evenin’, folks,” he greeted them in a hearty voice. He looked at Annie with an admiring expression on his round face. “Brady, present me to this young lady.”

“Annie, this is Judge Rawlins, a longtime friend of your grandfather’s.”

“Judge,” she nodded courteously. She had a smile on her face, but Brady imagined that Annie wouldn’t exactly welcome the interest of anyone connected with the law.

“Ah, the famous granddaughter I’ve heard so much about. The gossip doesn’t lie, Miss Johnson. You are every bit as lovely as your mother was. I hope you’ll save me a dance. But now—” He turned to Brady. “Brady, I want the latest news on Walter. We worry about him, you know.”

Judge Rawlins was as exacting with his questions about Walter’s health as he was on the bench confronting a suspected cattle rustler. Not until fully ten minutes later was he satisfied with Brady’s report.

“I’m not surprised,” the judge said, looking beyond Brady’s shoulder.

“Uh, I don’t—”

“Our Miss Johnson. I see she is already popular with the young bachelors.”

Brady swung around to find Annie out on the floor dancing with that smirking ass, Eddie O’Reilly, and looking much too happy in his arms. Damn! She had been snatched away from him without so much as a word from either one of them. What’s more, all the other single males in the hall were lining up, waiting turns to get their own sweaty paws on her.

Being unattached as she was, Brady couldn't do much about it. Except maybe sulk in some corner. And he’d be damned if he let Annie see him do anything like that.

Besides, Doreen Thomas on the other side of the hall had caught his attention. She’d be hurt if he didn’t go and speak to her. Managing to keep his eye on Annie, without being too obvious about it he hoped, Brady edged his way around the room until he arrived at Doreen’s side.

“You took your time in getting here,” she said, half chiding him, half teasing him.

“Sorry, Doreen. Judge Thomas was keeping me busy.”

“Oh? And here I thought it was Miss Johnson. But I see she is occupied elsewhere now. I don’t wonder. In that gown, she makes all the rest of us females look drab.”

“Does she?”

“Yes, and don’t tell me you never noticed.”

“You have nothing to worry about, Doreen. You’re a beautiful woman.” And you know it.

“As always, Brady, I value your compliments, though I’m never quite certain whether they’re genuine or whether you’re fibbing. Or at least stretching the truth.”

He wasn’t lying. Doreen was beautiful and, measured against Annie, probably more striking with her dark hair, sapphire eyes, and graceful figure. Which made him wonder why it was Annie then, and not Doreen, that his body ached for whenever he got anywhere near her.

The brunette laughed. “No, don’t tell me. Like any woman, I prefer to enjoy the illusions about myself. In any case, we were talking about Miss Johnson. That said, it’s time for me to make a confession.”

“About Annie?”

“Yes. I’m afraid I thought the worst about her that morning at the rail station. Or at least badly misjudged her.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Doreen. That would have been anyone’s reaction after that idiotic performance of hers on the platform. It was all meant to repay me for something she was angry about.”

“I see.” She paused, clearly waiting for him to explain just what he’d done to deserve Annie’s revenge. Brady had no intention of going into that. “Anyway,” Doreen continued, “I realized how wrong I was when I received her letter of apology asking me to forgive her. It was so polite and beautifully worded I knew she was a young lady of refinement, after all.”

Brady almost choked on that exaggeration. Annie could be called a lot of things, but a refined lady wasn’t one of them, although she did know how to behave herself when she was in the mood. She must have been in such a mood when she’d written the letter to Doreen. She’d kept that promise then. He had to credit her for that.

Doreen directed his attention to the dance floor. “Miss Johnson doesn’t seem to be in want of partners, does she?”

Brady turned his head. Eddie O’Reilly had been replaced. Annie danced with someone else now. He sourly wondered just how many other male arms had been wrapped around her while he and Doreen talked.

Where the subject of dancing was concerned, he knew Doreen was expecting him to ask her to join him on the floor. He couldn’t disappoint her, which was why he found himself a few minutes later whirling her around in one of her favorite Viennese waltzes. Subtle as she was about it, Doreen had managed often to make no secret about her desire for her friendship with Brady to advance into something more intimate. He wished he could accommodate her, but he could never bring himself to do that.

“I’m afraid I don’t have your attention,” she complained.

“Huh?”

“Miss Johnson. You seem to be more interested in what she is doing and whom she is doing it with than me.”

It was true. He’d been checking on Annie again over his shoulder. “Sorry, Doreen. It’s just that Walter made me responsible for her.” It was a lame excuse, but Doreen seemed to accept it.

“You’re forgiven then.”

The thing of it was, Brady couldn’t forgive himself. Either then or throughout the rest of the evening, which he spent dancing with any and every woman besides Annie. Much safer that way, he’d decided. That would have been fine if, when he wasn’t dancing, he hadn’t kept a vigil from the sidelines, glowering at a flushed Annie, who was a temptation to every blasted man in the place under eighty. They swarmed around her. She never missed a reel, a polka, or a waltz. He mightn’t have minded so much if she hadn’t completely ignored him.

You’re a fool, Malone. You know that, don’t you?

Yeah, he knew it. He just couldn’t seem to help himself.

****

Annie was relieved when the musicians put down their instruments and left the platform for a well-earned rest. She needed an interval herself. The hall had grown hot. The other women had come equipped with their fans. She had only her hand to stir the air around her face.

Her latest partner, a young man with a prominent Adam’s apple and equally prominent ears, and whose name she couldn’t remember, expressed his concern. “Shall I fetch you a glass of punch, Miss Johnson?”

“That would be very refreshing.”

Eager to please her, he hurried away in the direction of the punch bowl. Annie found herself alone for the first time that evening. But not for long. A short, bespectacled man in his middle years squeezed his way through the milling crowd to her side.

“I recognized you almost right away,” he greeted her. “But with the fellas buzzing around you all night, this here is the first chance I got to speak to you.”

Annie flashed him a bright smile, although she had no idea who he was. He did somehow seem familiar, however. “Uh, we’ve met before?”

“I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. I had a lot more hair back then.” He hooted with laughter. “And now I’m nearly bald. But you, Annie...why the last time I laid eyes on you, you were just budding into womanhood. But since then the promise of your development has been realized. You have blossomed. Read that in a book. Didn’t know exactly what it meant, but I sure do now.”

“Thank you, Mr.—”

“Schultz, Annie. Frank Schultz. You remember me now?”

She did. Frank Schultz was the drummer who had supplied Judd Halter with all the wares he’d hawked on his medicine show she and her mother had been a part of, Annie reluctantly so.

“What are you doing here in Banning, Mr. Schultz?”

“Stopping overnight at the hotel. Clerk there told me about the dance, and I thought I’d come along to see the fun.”

“You’re still on the road then?”

“Where else, but I’m strictly in men’s wear now. Say, I heard your mother passed. Sure am sorry about that. She was a lovely lady.”

“Yes, she was.” But that wasn’t what Annie wanted to discuss. With Frank Schultz traveling everywhere through the West as he did, there was the possibility... “Judd Halter, Mr. Schultz. Have you seen him lately?”

He shook his head. “Afraid I haven’t.”

Annie was disappointed. She had hoped he might be able to tell her Judd’s current whereabouts. She should have known that wasn’t likely, not when Judd had moved on from selling quack medicines to robbing trains.

Her punch cup arrived in the hand of the young man with the oversized ears.

“Well,” the drummer excused himself, “I’d better move along. I’m glad I got to say howdy to you, Annie.” He went off, disappearing into the crowd.

Annie drank her punch and wondered about Brady. She had been aware of him watching her like it was both his duty and his right, but he hadn’t tried to approach her all evening. She tried not to care about that.

By the time she finished her punch, the musicians had returned to the platform, and Judge Rawlins appeared to claim her for the dance she had promised him.

Annie ordered herself to forget both Brady and Judd Halter. She was here to enjoy herself, free of any concern. That’s exactly what she continued to do. Until, that is, near the end of the evening when trouble brewed in the shape of Eddie O’Reilly.

She was between dances when a swaggering Eddie sought her out, insisting she give him the next waltz.

“We’ve already danced twice, Eddie.”

“Now this will be a third time.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” he demanded.

Couples were already forming on the floor. Annie didn’t want a scene, and by the mulish look on his face, she feared Eddie was capable of making one.

“Very well,” she relented, “but that’s all.”

He grinned in triumph as she went reluctantly into his arms. The fiddles and piano sang a slow waltz as she and Eddie swayed around the floor. He’d demonstrated the confidence of a practiced partner with their other dances, but now he seemed a bit unsteady on his feet.

“Know somethin’, Annie?”

“What’s that, Eddie?”

“You are so damn gorgeous. Did you know that?”

She didn’t like what he said or the way he said it, as if he were being very careful not to slur his words. Her suspicion was confirmed when, less than halfway through the waltz, he expressed his amorous mood by going physical on her. Bending his head down, he boldly nuzzled her neck.

By then she didn’t need to smell the liquor on his breath to know he was drunk. Not on the punch, she knew. That hadn’t contained any alcohol. But anyone at all observant in the hall couldn’t have failed to notice that, from time to time throughout the evening, a number of the men had been slipping away through a back door. Probably into an alleyway where, no doubt, a whiskey bottle had been passed around.

“Stop that, Eddie! I don’t like it!”

“Aw, Annie—”

Eddie O’Reilly wouldn’t have been the first man she had handled in this condition. And she could have rid herself of this one without any fuss. She wasn’t given that opportunity.

“You heard the lady, O’Reilly. Hands off of her. Now.”

The voice that bit out the command was deep, cold, and menacing. It matched the stormy-eyed gaze of the tall speaker who had arrived out of nowhere. Any sober man would have obeyed that steel-hard warning and immediately melted away. Eddie was not sober.

“Go away, Malone. Annie and I don’t need you.”

Eddie’s defiant challenge was a mistake. Brady grabbed him by the arm and spun him away from Annie. Eddie staggered a few steps, recovered his balance, balled up a fist, and aimed it in the direction of Brady’s jaw. He failed to connect with his target. Brady’s lightning-swift response did not fail.

Eddie ended up flat on the floor, face purple with fury, spittle leaking from one corner of his mouth, and a nose that would probably be swollen to the size of a tulip bulb by tomorrow morning.

“Bastard!” he growled at Brady, who stood rigidly over him. Brady might have tolerated Eddie's curse. But not his action. Hand flashing down to his boot, Eddie withdrew a knife. Again, Brady was too quick for him. His own boot was suddenly resting on Eddie’s groin.

“I wouldn’t try to use that knife, O’Reilly. Not if you someday hope to make a little Eddie of your own.”

By now the other dancers were gathered around, wide-eyed with interest at the excitement they would be discussing in detail over their coffee cups tomorrow. The scene that Annie feared was a reality. She didn't witness more than the beginning of it, however. Brady’s performance, which its spectators were certain to regard as a man staking out his territory, was more than enough to send her marching off in livid humiliation toward the nearest exit.

****

Once they were well away from Banning, Brady halted the horses at the edge of the road. When he turned to her, Annie could see in the glow of the buggy’s side lamps that his face was perfectly calm. His composure had her even more angry than she was at the dance.

“This isn’t healthy,” he said matter-of-factly. “You’d better get it out before you bust something.”

She had managed to remain coldly silent since they’d pulled away from the hall, but he was right. She could no longer contain her fury.

“You had no right to shame me like that in front of all those people, Brady Malone! By morning your brawl with Eddie will be all over town! And what is everyone going to think?”

He opened his mouth to tell her, but she was in no state to listen.

“That the two of you were fighting over me like I was some—some common saloon girl, that’s what!”

“I don’t think that they—”

“I didn’t need you coming to my rescue! I could have dealt quietly with Eddie on my own! I’m experienced with jackasses! God knows, I’ve had enough practice with them! Since I’ve been out of pigtails, in fact!”

“If you’ll let me—”

“But, no, you had to go and make a spectacle out of the three of us! What have you got to say for yourself?”

“Just that—”

“What makes me so mad is how you’ve been lecturing me about my behavior ever since we got off the train! My behavior? What about your behavior tonight? If that wasn’t food for a scandal, I don’t know what is!”

She had run out of wind by then. There wasn’t enough light for her to be certain of it, but she thought she detected amusement hovering around his mouth. And that made her angry, too.

“You finished?” he said.

“No. Yes. For now.”

“Good. Then maybe you’ll let me explain my side of it. Your grandfather trusted me to look out for you tonight, Annie. He expected me to make sure that all the Eddie O’Reillys treated you with the respect you deserve. I stepped in because I didn’t see that happening. It’s as simple as that.”

As simple as that. The code of the West. Brady’s code that required any decent man to protect a lady from unwanted attention. Nothing whatever to do with jealousy or being possessive of a woman he might in some measure regard as belonging to him. That should have satisfied her. Then why did she feel disappointed somehow?

“Well,” he said.

“Well,” she echoed him.

And that was all.

For a long moment, with their gazes locked on each other, there was nothing but silence between them. When that changed, or why it changed, she couldn’t say. She just knew that suddenly and simultaneously they reached out, their arms winding around each other eagerly.

Annie found herself pressed as tightly as she could against Brady’s chest, his solid body feeling like a secure haven against—What? Herself? Whatever the explanation, she was without self-restraint when his mouth angled across hers.

She melted into his heat, a low moan rising from her throat as he kissed her with the hunger of a man who had for too long been without food or drink. Her appetite equaled his, her lips parting in a famished invitation. He answered her impatient demand, his tongue dipping into her mouth to seek her own tongue.

The riveting union involved her senses on every level. She could taste the clean flavor of him. Could smell the musky, male scent of him mingled with the fragrance of his soap. Hear the groan of pleasure that seemed to rumble from deep within his chest.

Her emotions spiraled out of control, but she didn’t care. All that mattered to her was his lusty, searing kiss that rocked her clear down to her toes.

When his mouth at last parted from hers, she thought she would find relief. Brady’s mouth wasn’t finished with her, though. It searched elsewhere, moving down across her throat with a tantalizing slowness that robbed her of her last breath.

When she was able to find air again, his lips had settled into her cleavage. It required no more than a few tugs of his strong teeth on the low neckline of her gown to expose her breasts to his wanton, probing mouth. A mouth that didn’t hesitate to suckle each breast in turn, his wet tongue paying special attention to her rigid peaks.

He had gone too far. A boldness that surely deserved her immediate objection. But all she could manage was to rake her fingers through the thick hair of his lowered head, yearning for more of his exquisite torment.

She was lost and didn’t realize it until, with whatever common sense of his own remained to him, Brady’s mouth and arms finally released her. Willing or not, she let him go.

They both sat back, dragging in mouthfuls of air, staring at each other in a now solemn silence.

Annie was the first to speak with a soft, sober “What are we doing, Brady? This can’t go anywhere.”

“No, it can’t,” he agreed sadly. “Not with your determination to leave the first chance you get. Unless...”

She shook her head. “No, I haven’t changed my mind about that. I can’t.”

“Then we don’t have anything more to talk about.”

Picking up the reins, he snapped them in a command to the waiting team. The horses complied, drawing the buggy on up the road.

Annie waited for her churning emotions to settle as they traveled toward the ranch. But they refused to obey. If anything, her confusion mounted. Only one thing was sharply, disastrously clear. And undeniable. Brady Malone had her heart in serious jeopardy.