Free Lone Star Winter by Diana Palmer

hands capturedher shoulders, tightening there when he lifted his face away from her warm mouth. “Don’t do that,” he said tersely.
    â€œWhy not?” she asked.
    â€œI don’t need comforting!” he said curtly.
    She moved back a step. He looked as if she’d done something outrageous, when she’d only meant to be kind. It irritated her that he had to be antagonistic about it. “Oh, I see,” she said, staring up at him. “Is this how it goes? ‘Men are tough, little woman,’” she drawled, deepening her voice and her drawl, “‘we can eat live snakes and chew through barbed wire. We don’t want women fussin’ over us!’” She grinned up at him deliberately.
    He glared at her, his eyes glittering.
    She raised her eyebrows. “Want me to apologize? Okay. I’m very sorry,” she added.
    His broad chest rose and fell heavily. “I want you to quit while you’re ahead,” he said in a tight voice.
    She stared at him without guile. “I don’t understand.”
    â€œDon’t you?” His smile was full of mockery and he was seeing a succession of women from his wild days who liked to tease and run away, but not too far away. His lean hands tightened on her shoulders as his eyesslid down her body. “Your husband didn’t tell you what teasing does to a man?”
    â€œTeasing…?” Her eyes widened. “Was I?” she asked, and seemed not to know.
    That fascinated expression was real. He did scowl then. “What you were doing…it arouses me,” he said bluntly.
    â€œYou’re kidding!”
    He wanted to be angry. He couldn’t manage it. She did look so surprised…. He dropped his hands, laughing in wholesale defeat. “Get in the damned truck.”
    He half lifted her in and closed the door on her barely formed question.
    She was strapped in when he pulled himself up under the steering wheel, closed the door and reached for his seat belt.
    â€œYou were kidding,” she persisted.
    He looked right into her eyes. “I wasn’t.” He frowned quizzically. “Don’t you know anything about men?”
    â€œI was married for two months,” she pointed out.
    â€œTo a eunuch, apparently,” he said bluntly as he cranked the vehicle and pulled out of the parking lot and into traffic. “I am pregnant,” she stated haughtily.
    He spared her an amused glance. “Pregnant and practically untouched,” he replied.
    She sighed, turning her attention to the city lights as he wound south through Houston to the long highway that would take them home to Jacobsville. “I guess it shows, huh?” she asked.
    He didn’t say anything for half a block or so. “Did you want him?”
    â€œAt first,” she said. Her eyes sought his. “But not like I wanted you in the parking lot,” she said honestly. “Not ever like that.”
    A flash of ruddy color touched his cheekbones. He was shocked at her honesty.
    â€œSorry, again,” she murmured, looking away. “I guess I haven’t learned restraint, either,” she added.
    He let out a long breath. “You take some getting used to,” he remarked.
    â€œWhy?”
    His eyes met hers briefly before they went back to the highway. Rain was beginning to mist the windshield. He turned on the wipers. “I don’t expect honesty from a woman,” he said curtly.
    She frowned. “But surely your wife was honest.”
    â€œWhy do you think so?”
    â€œIt’s obvious that you loved your little boy,” she began.
    His laugh had the coldest ring to it that she’d everheard. “She wanted an abortion. I threatened to take away her credit cards and she gave in and had him.”
    â€œThat must have been a difficult time for you,” she said softly.
    â€œIt was.” His jaw clenched. “She was surprised that I wanted her