Unlikely Lover

Unlikely Lover by Diana Palmer

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Authors: Diana Palmer
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wicked whisper as he extended a hand to her.
    She sat up, flushed, ignoring his outstretched hand as she scrambled to her feet. “I can’t imagine that many of them were still virgins afterward,” she muttered with a shy glance.
    “Oh, some of them had great powers of resistance,” he admitted. “Like you.”
    “Sure,” she said shakily, pushing back her damp hair. “Some great resistance. If you hadn’t stopped…”
    “But I did,” he interrupted. He picked up his hat from where he’d tossed it and studied the crown before he put it back on his head. “And for the time being you can forget going back to Georgia,” he added with a level gaze. “Lillian needs you. Maybe I need you, too. You’ve given me a new perspective on things.”
    “I’ve butted in and made a spectacle of myself, you mean,” she said, her eyes quietly curious on his hard, dark face.
    “If I’d meant that, I’d have said it,” he returned. “You’re a breath of fresh air in my life, Mari. I was getting set in my wicked ways until you came along. Maybe you were right about my attitude toward money. So why don’t you stay and reform me?”
    “I can’t imagine anyone brave enough to try,” she said. She lifted her face. “And besides all that, how dare you cost me my job!”
    “You can’t work in a garage full of men anymore,” he said blandly. “Remember your horrible nightmares about the assault?” he added. “Men make you nervous. Lillian said so.”
    “Those men wouldn’t make anyone nervous. All they did was work on cars and go home to their wives,” she informed him. “Not one of them was single.”
    “How sad for you. What wonderful luck that Lillian found me dying and sent for you.” He grinned. “It isn’t every girl who gets handed a single, handsome, rich bachelor on a platter.”
    “I am not a gold digger,” she shot at him.
    “Oh, hell, I know that,” he said after a minute, studying her through narrowed eyes. “But I had to have some kind of defense, didn’t I? You’re a potent little package, honey. A fish on the hook does fight to the bitter end.”
    His words didn’t make much sense to her, but Mari was a little dazed by everything that had happened. She just stared at him, puzzled.
    “Never mind,” he said, taking her hand. “Let’s go back. I’ve got a few odds and ends to take care of before lunch. Do you like to ride?”
    “I think so,” she admitted.
    “You can have your own horse next time,” he promised. “But for now I think we’ll walk back. I’m just about out of self-control, if you want the truth. I can’t handle you at a close proximity right now.”
    That was embarrassing and flattering, and she hid a smile. But he saw it and gathered her close to his side, leading the horse by the reins with one hand and holding her with the other. The conversation on the way back was general, but the feel of Ward’s strong arm had Mari enthralled every step of the way.
    He went off to make some business calls. Lillian took one look at Mari’s face and began humming love songs. Mari, meanwhile, went up to her room to freshen up and took time to borrow one of the outside lines to call Atlanta. Her boss at the garage was delighted to hear from her and immediately burst into praise of her unselfishness to help that “poor dying man in Texas.” How fortunate, he added brightly, that a young woman about Mari’s age had just applied for a job the morning poor Mr. Jessup had called him. Everything had worked out just fine, hadn’t it, and how did she like Texas?
    She mumbled something about the weather being great for that time of year, thanked him and hung up. Poor Mr. Jessup, indeed!
    Ward had to go out on business later in the day, and he wasn’t back by supper time. Lillian and Mari ate alone, and after Mari had finished helping in the kitchen, she kissed her aunt good night and went upstairs. She was torn between disappointment and relief that Ward hadn’t been home since

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