Native Silver by Helen Conrad Page A

coming and all he did was take a long piece of straw from her hair.  
    “So jumpy,” he taunted quietly, his eyes dark and knowing. “What are you afraid of, Shawnee? What do you think I’m going to do?”
    Allison was forgotten as she stood, staring into his gaze. What did she think he was going to do? Steal her heart away, that was what. And even as she thought of it, she shuddered uncontrollably. Her breath was coming faster.  
    He was right. She was afraid. She had to escape, and quickly. But he was so close, so warm.
    “David!” Allison’s sharp voice brought them both back to reality. “We’ve been standing here talking all this time and I forgot to tell you what I came for.”
    David’s dark gaze lingered on Shawnee’s face, skimming down the line of her cheek and pausing to examine the full swell of her lower lip.  
    “I’m listen ing,” he said, but he didn’t turn. He seemed to be letting Shawnee know that though his sister had interrupted them, he hadn’t forgotten what they’d begun up in the loft. And he didn’t mean to let her forget either.
    “I was riding up on the Camden Acres,” Allison went on urgently, “and one of the men working on clearing the fields up there had been caught in a landslide. His leg was crushed by a boulder. They radioed for help, and were going to take him in to the hospital, but I knew you’d want to go along to make sure he was taken care of.”
    Shawnee watched as his eyes lost the dark in tensity. Allison had obviously hit upon the one thing that could divert his attention. His finger touched her cheek for just a moment, then he turned away.
    “Did they get a helicopter, or did they take him by four-wheel drive?” he asked.
    “I’ m not sure. I left before the rescuers arrived. I wanted to get back here and let you know.”
    He nodded abstractedly. “I’ll take you home first,” he told Shawnee.
    Allison raised an eyebrow, looking suddenly wise. “I could give her a lift home if you want to get on out to the hospital.” There was just a trace of triumph in her voice.
    David hesitated. He looked at Shawnee, but there was no longer any humor in his eyes. “No,” he said decisively. “I’ll drive her home.”
    Allison gave one last slap of her crop against her leg. “Whatever you say.” She sighed. “Since you live in the neighborhood, I suppose we’ll be seeing more of you.” Her eyes sharpened as she thought of a warning that might just be an arrow for her side.  
    “We’ll be having a house-guest soon. A particular friend of David’s. Megan Reilly. She’s just about your age. Perhaps you’ll help us entertain her?”
    The smile let Shawnee know the comment had been made more as information than invitation. Allison turned on her heel and began to stride toward the wide barn door.  
    “I’ll be at the house if you need me,” she called back over her shoulder. “So nice to have met you, Miss Carrington.”
    Shawnee opened her mouth to reply in kind, but David didn’t give her a chance. Before she realized what he was up to, he’d captured her chin with one strong hand and was holding her still so that his mouth could claim hers in a kiss that was as wild as it was sweet. The gurgling protest she tried to utter died in her throat and the hands that she threw up to ward him off ended curled against the warmth of his chest. His kiss caught and held her like a leaf taken up by a desert wind, tossing her higher, higher, until she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—and then he drew away and she stopped in mid flight, plummeting back to earth.  
    “That was by way of an apology,” he told her, still holding her chin in his grasp. His eyes searched hers for a moment, then narrowed as the humor re turned to his gaze. “As well as a promise of things to come,” he added with a wink.
    She knew she should tell him, and quickly, that there would be no “things to come” if she could help it, but somehow the words wouldn’t form in