Free The Cowboy's Surrender by Anne Marie Novark Page A

to order drinks. Maybe Dallas wouldn't see her. Maybe he would leave soon.
     
    She tried not to look toward the corner booth, yet couldn't help herself. He was like a magnet, drawing her attention, causing her heart to perform strange gyrations. She was vaguely aware of Harold and Ben conversing by her side. The other people in the honky-tonk seemed invisible.
     
    The waiter at the bar set an ice-cold bottle of beer in front of her. Gillian wasn't much of a drinker, but she enjoyed an occasional beer now and then. Now was definitely one of those times. She drank deeply, letting the cold, biting brew slide down her throat.
     
    She wouldn't think about the man across the room. She didn't want to get involved with him or anyone. She focused on the fact that he was rude and probably involved in the incidents at the rig. Taking another swallow of beer, Gillian pushed away the treacherous thoughts of the way his mouth had felt over hers, how she had responded to his touch that day in her office.
     
    Harold's voice broke through her reverie. She surfaced from her deep reflections. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
     
    "I said if you're going to sit there and pout because I practically forced you to come, then I'm sorry. Sorry I brought you. I thought we could use a break from work. We won't stay long, if you don't want to."
     
    Gillian breathed deeply. Harold and Ben were her most diligent workers on the site. They deserved a little rest and relaxation. "I wasn't pouting. I was thinking." Glancing toward Dallas, she caught him staring at her. Her tummy turned over. Surely, he wouldn't approach her. Single her out. She made a quick decision.
     
    "I was thinking that I haven't danced in years. Want to give it a try?" She forced a smile.
     
    "Well, I'm not very good--" Harold began.
     
    Gillian stood up. "Please?"
     
    Harold nodded. "Hope I don't crush your toes, that's all."
     
    "Don't worry. It's your toes that are in danger."
     
    The neon-lit jukebox blared out a country-western ballad. Harold awkwardly touched Gillian's waist and gingerly held her hand as he carefully guided her around the circle of whirling couples.
     
    Gillian kept her eyes glued to Harold's shoulder, concentrating on the steps. Why she had asked him to dance, she didn't know. She just felt she had to get away from the laser-sharp gaze of Dallas McCade.
     
    "Your cheeks are red as tomatoes," Harold said. "What's wrong?"
     
    Gillian shrugged. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Must be the beer. It sometimes makes me flushed. Oh, crud." Through the crowd, she could see Dallas making a beeline toward them.
     
    Harold stopped in the middle of the dance floor, concern in his eyes. "What? Did I step on you? I told you I wasn't any good at this."
     
    "Don't stop!" Gillian pushed at him, tugging at his hand, trying to get him moving again. She looked over her shoulder after they made a turn. Dallas was still coming, determination and something else, something dangerous, stamped on his face.
     
    "What's the matter?" Harold looked at her like she had lost her mind.
     
    "Dallas McCade is here--"
     
    "Where?" He glanced around the dance floor.
     
    Gillian's eyes widened as Dallas planted himself in their path. He was going to single her out. And there was nothing she could do about it.
     
    "Don't worry." Harold tried to maneuver past the tall rancher, but Dallas blocked the attempt.
     
    He tapped Harold's shoulder to cut in.
     
    Harold looked him up and down, then kept on dancing, moving to the opposite side of the floor.
     
    Gillian glanced back. Dallas stiffened, his hands balled into fists. Surely, he wouldn't resort to violence. Not all men were like her husband, Nick. Her heart skittered when Dallas marched toward them again.
     
    Instead of tapping Harold's shoulder, he clamped his fingers on Gillian's shoulder, effectively stopping them.
     
    Dallas caught her eyes in a mesmerizing gaze. "Dance with me." He tightened his hold on her shoulder, waiting for