not part of the bargain. The less you know, the safer for both of us.”
Clara took a breath to ponder his words. Tanner was right. Knowing about his crime could leave her open to arrest for aiding a fugitive. Not knowing was the only protection he could offer her. As for his own safety, what she didn’t know, she couldn’t repeat, even under threat.
“You’ll stay until Galahad breeds my mares?”
“Only if I think it’s safe.”
“And if you don’t, for whatever reason?”
“Then I’ll ride out of here, and you’ll never see me or the stallion again. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes. And don’t worry, you have my word.” Clara realized she was trembling. She put out her hand to seal the bargain. His big, leathery palm enfolded her fingers in a brief but firm handshake. Something like tenderness flickered in the blue depths of his eyes, then vanished.
“I’d better be getting back to work,” he said. “I’ll keep an eye on your mares and let you know what happens.”
“Thank you. I guess I’ll be going home now.”
Neither of them moved. Clara stood gazing up at him, her feet rooted to the ground. What was she waiting for? Did she want the man to kiss her?
Yes, heaven save her, she did.
He leaned toward her, his face filling her vision. His lips parted. Driven by instinct, Clara strained upward. For the space of a heartbeat time froze. Then, without a word, he straightened, turned away and strode out of the barn.
Clara stood quivering in the straw, waiting for her pulse to resume its normal rhythm. Anger began a slow simmer in her belly, its heat rising to the roots of her hair. How could she have made such a fool of herself? She’d behaved like a silly schoolgirl. Tanner probably thought she didn’t have a brain in her head.
Tarboy nickered, his nose butting her shoulder as if to remind her it was time to go. Willing herself to move, she led him out of the barn and swung into the saddle. A furtive glance around the farmyard confirmed that Tanner was nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly all Clara wanted was to go home. The past twenty-four hours had been like a runaway ride down the face of a mountain, leaving her physically and emotionally drained. She would swing by the porch for a quick goodbye to Mary. Then she’d head home for a hot bath and a nap under the pink eiderdown she’d kept on her bed since childhood.
She would rest, read and do her best not to think about the man who called himself Tanner.
Tanner stood in the shadow of the ruined hay shed watching Clara gallop away. On horseback she was so beautiful that she made his throat ache—her backstraight and proud, her hair flying like a silk banner, her denim-clad buttocks bouncing in the saddle.
He stifled a groan at the memory of holding her against him, feeling the warm contours of her body, the ripe moons of her sweet little bum cupped in his hands. When she’d ground herself against his arousal, he’d damn near exploded on the spot. It had been all he could do to push her away. The flash of hurt in her eyes had cut him like a razor.
He’d seen that same hurt again moments ago when he’d resisted the temptation to kiss her plum silk lips. One day Clara would thank him for his restraint. But for now she was young and hot-blooded, driven by inner forces she could barely understand, let alone control. She was still discovering her power over men, still testing its limits. As an experienced male of twenty-nine, Jace shuddered to think where her curiosity might lead her next, especially with the wrong kind of man. Maybe he should speak to Mary about giving her granddaughter a firm talking-to.
Make that suggestion, and the good woman would likely run him off the place with a shotgun blast.
Jace watched Clara until she disappeared beyond the gap he’d left in the fence. Then he turned his attention to the ruined hay shed. By now, he was feeling all right. Whatever the cause of the fever, it had left him no worse than a
Clara took a breath to ponder his words. Tanner was right. Knowing about his crime could leave her open to arrest for aiding a fugitive. Not knowing was the only protection he could offer her. As for his own safety, what she didn’t know, she couldn’t repeat, even under threat.
“You’ll stay until Galahad breeds my mares?”
“Only if I think it’s safe.”
“And if you don’t, for whatever reason?”
“Then I’ll ride out of here, and you’ll never see me or the stallion again. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes. And don’t worry, you have my word.” Clara realized she was trembling. She put out her hand to seal the bargain. His big, leathery palm enfolded her fingers in a brief but firm handshake. Something like tenderness flickered in the blue depths of his eyes, then vanished.
“I’d better be getting back to work,” he said. “I’ll keep an eye on your mares and let you know what happens.”
“Thank you. I guess I’ll be going home now.”
Neither of them moved. Clara stood gazing up at him, her feet rooted to the ground. What was she waiting for? Did she want the man to kiss her?
Yes, heaven save her, she did.
He leaned toward her, his face filling her vision. His lips parted. Driven by instinct, Clara strained upward. For the space of a heartbeat time froze. Then, without a word, he straightened, turned away and strode out of the barn.
Clara stood quivering in the straw, waiting for her pulse to resume its normal rhythm. Anger began a slow simmer in her belly, its heat rising to the roots of her hair. How could she have made such a fool of herself? She’d behaved like a silly schoolgirl. Tanner probably thought she didn’t have a brain in her head.
Tarboy nickered, his nose butting her shoulder as if to remind her it was time to go. Willing herself to move, she led him out of the barn and swung into the saddle. A furtive glance around the farmyard confirmed that Tanner was nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly all Clara wanted was to go home. The past twenty-four hours had been like a runaway ride down the face of a mountain, leaving her physically and emotionally drained. She would swing by the porch for a quick goodbye to Mary. Then she’d head home for a hot bath and a nap under the pink eiderdown she’d kept on her bed since childhood.
She would rest, read and do her best not to think about the man who called himself Tanner.
Tanner stood in the shadow of the ruined hay shed watching Clara gallop away. On horseback she was so beautiful that she made his throat ache—her backstraight and proud, her hair flying like a silk banner, her denim-clad buttocks bouncing in the saddle.
He stifled a groan at the memory of holding her against him, feeling the warm contours of her body, the ripe moons of her sweet little bum cupped in his hands. When she’d ground herself against his arousal, he’d damn near exploded on the spot. It had been all he could do to push her away. The flash of hurt in her eyes had cut him like a razor.
He’d seen that same hurt again moments ago when he’d resisted the temptation to kiss her plum silk lips. One day Clara would thank him for his restraint. But for now she was young and hot-blooded, driven by inner forces she could barely understand, let alone control. She was still discovering her power over men, still testing its limits. As an experienced male of twenty-nine, Jace shuddered to think where her curiosity might lead her next, especially with the wrong kind of man. Maybe he should speak to Mary about giving her granddaughter a firm talking-to.
Make that suggestion, and the good woman would likely run him off the place with a shotgun blast.
Jace watched Clara until she disappeared beyond the gap he’d left in the fence. Then he turned his attention to the ruined hay shed. By now, he was feeling all right. Whatever the cause of the fever, it had left him no worse than a
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