Free A Risky Affair by Maureen Smith Page A

his desire to prolong their time together? “Mr. Thorne’s expecting me by two.”
    Dane inclined his head. “Drive carefully,” he murmured.
    â€œI will. Thanks again for everything.”
    â€œMy pleasure.”
    What occurred next could only be interpreted as divine intervention.
    When Solange turned the key in the ignition, nothing happened. She frowned, trying to crank the engine a second time.
    Nothing. Not even a single click. Just dead silence.
    Solange groaned loudly, leaning her head back on the headrest and closing her eyes. “I was afraid this was going to happen sooner or later,” she grumbled. “Why couldn’t it have been later? ”
    â€œPop the hood so I can take a look,” Dane instructed.
    Even before he checked the transmission fluid, timing belt, battery connections and starter, Dane knew what the problem was. He’d diagnosed it often enough as a part-time mechanic in his father’s auto repair shop back in Houston. And he couldn’t help feeling a perverse surge of pleasure, as if he’d been given a rare, unexpected gift at someone else’s expense.
    Solange climbed out of the car and slowly skirted the fender to stand beside him. “What’s the verdict?” she asked warily.
    Dane straightened from leaning over the engine and gave her a slight, grim smile. “Do you want the good news or bad news first?”
    â€œStart with the bad, I guess.”
    She looked so forlorn that he felt guilty for thinking only of himself a moment ago—well, almost. “The bad news is that you need a new engine. The one you have has finally given up the ghost.”
    She nodded, closing her eyes as she wearily pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “Don’t keep me in suspense. What’s the good news?”
    If she’d been looking at him, she would have seen the wicked gleam of satisfaction in his eyes as he answered, “The good news is that after your car has been towed, I’ll drive you to Thorne’s ranch myself.”

Chapter 7
    â€œA re you absolutely sure I’m not keeping you from important business at the office?” Solange asked as she and Dane headed out of town in his black Dodge Durango, which had accommodated all of her belongings with room to spare. By the time the tow truck had arrived, nearly two hours had passed.
    Dane slanted her an amused sidelong glance. “For the last time,” he drawled, “you’re not keeping me from important business. It’s Saturday. The only thing I was going to do at the office was catch up on some paperwork. Quite frankly, taking a scenic drive through the country sounds far more appealing.”
    â€œIf you’re sure….”
    A half smile quirked the corners of his mouth. “There you go again.”
    â€œSorry,” Solange said with a rueful grin. “Another bad habit I picked up from my mother—being overly considerate of other people’s time.”
    Dane shook his head slowly. “One thing you’ll learn about me,” he said silkily, “is that I rarely, if ever, do anything I don’t want to. Always remember that.”
    His words, like a seductive promise, sent a shiver through her.
    â€œNow stop worrying,” he said, “and just relax and enjoy the ride. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”
    Solange had to agree. The sun shone brightly against a cloudless, vivid blue sky. There was only a slight nip in the air to remind them it was December, not September. On the stereo, Nat King Cole crooned the timeless lyrics to “The Christmas Song,” evoking her favorite childhood memories of decorating the giant spruce tree with her mother and baking homemade apple cobblers her father would exclaim over. To her surprise, remembering her parents didn’t make her sad, as it had every other day for the past eleven months. And despite everything that had