Free Heartbreaker by Linda Howard

proud
to back down now.
    It was a long drive to Tampa , and half an hour passed without a word between them.
Finally she said, "You used to make fun of my expensive little cars."
    He knew she was referring to the sleek
Mercedes, and he grunted. Personally, he preferred his pickup. When it came
down to it, he was a cattle rancher and not much else, but he was damned good
at what he did, and his tastes weren't expensive. "Funny thing about
bankers," he said by way of explanation. "If they think you don't need
the money all that badly, they're eager to loan it to you. Image counts. This
thing is part of the image."
    "And the members of your rotating harem
prefer it, too, I bet," she gibed. "Going out on the town lacks
something when you do it in a pickup."
    "I don't know about that. Ever done it
in a pickup?" he asked softly, and even through the dark glasses she could
feel the impact of his glance.
    "I'm sure
you
have."
    "Not since I was fifteen." He
chuckled, ignoring the biting coldness of her comment. "But a pickup never
was your style, was it?"
    "No," she murmured, leaning her
head back. Some of her dates had driven fancy sports cars, some had driven
souped-up Fords and Chevys, but it hadn't made any difference what they'd
driven, because she hadn't made out with any of them. They had been nice boys,
most of them, but none of them had been John Rafferty, so it hadn't mattered.
He was the only man she'd ever wanted. Perhaps if she'd been older when she'd
met him, or if she'd been secure enough in her own sexuality, things might have
been different. What would have happened if she hadn't initiated those long
years of hostility in an effort to protect herself from an attraction too
strong for her to handle? What if she'd tried to get him interested in her,
instead of warding him off?
    Nothing, she thought tiredly. John wouldn't
have wasted his time with a naive eighteen-year-old. Maybe later, when she'd
graduated from college, the situation might have changed, but instead of coming
home after graduation she had gone to Philadelphia … and met Roger.
    They were out of the lawyer's office by noon ; it hadn't been a long meeting. The land would be
surveyed, the deed drawn up, and John's ranch would increase by quite a bit,
while hers would shrink, but she was grateful that he'd come up with that
solution. At least now she still had a chance.
    His hand curled warmly around her elbow as
they walked out to the car. "Let's have lunch. I'm too hungry to wait
until we get home."
    She was hungry, too, and the searing heat
made her feel lethargic. She murmured in agreement as she fumbled for her
sunglasses, missing the satisfied smile that briefly curled his mouth. John
opened the car door and held it as she got in, his eyes lingering on the length
of silken leg exposed by the movement. She promptly restored her skirt to its
proper position and crossed her legs as she settled in the seat, giving him a
questioning glance when he continued to stand in the open door. "Is
something wrong?"
    "No." He closed the door and walked
around the car. Not unless she counted the way looking at her made him so hot
that a deep ache settled in his loins. She couldn't move without making him
think of making love to her. When she crossed her legs, he thought of
uncrossing them. When she pulled her skirt down, he thought of pulling it up.
When she leaned back the movement thrust her breasts against her lapels, and he
wanted to tear the dress open. Damn, what a dress! It wrapped her modestly, but
the silk kissed every soft curve just the way he wanted to do, and all morning
long it had been teasing at him that the damned thing was fastened with only
those two buttons. Two buttons! He had to have her, he thought savagely. He
couldn't wait much longer. He'd already waited ten years, and his patience had
ended. It was time.
    The restaurant he took her to was a posh
favorite of the city's business community, but he didn't worry about needing a
reservation. The