Free Man of Ice by Diana Palmer Page A

even I haven’t learned.”
    “Dawson!”
    He glanced at her, and he didn’t smile. “Jealous?”
    She moved restlessly in the saddle. “I…don’t know. Maybe.” She searched his face. “I wish I could offer you the same medicine she could. But you’d have to get me stinking drunk,” she said on a pained laugh. She averted her eyes. “I’d never forgive you if you did.”
    “Did what? Get you stinking drunk?”
    “No!” she said at once. “Do it…with her,” she explained.
    His caught breath carried, but before he could reply, Leslie reined in beside them. “Aren’t you two coming along?” she drawled. “It’s lonely trying to explore a ranch this size on my own.”
    “Sorry,” Dawson said, easing his horse into step beside hers. “We were discussing plans.”
    “I have a few of my own,” Leslie murmured sweetly. “Want to hear them?”
    Barrie fell back a little, glaring at them. But Dawson wasn’t having that. He stopped and motioned to her to catch up, with eyes that dared her to hesitate. Reluctantly she rode up beside him and kept pace, to Leslie’s irritation, all the way home.
    * * *
    She’d thought Dawson would forget what she’d said before Leslie interrupted them. But he didn’t. While Leslie was changing clothes before supper, Dawson caught Barrie by the hand and led her into his study that overlooked the cottonwood-lined river below.
    He closed the door behind them and, as an afterthought, locked it.
    She stood by the desk at the window, watching him warily. “I gather that you wanted to talk to me?” she asked defensively.
    “Among other things.” He perched himself on the edge of the desk facing her, and searched her wary face. He folded his arms across his broad chest. “You kissed me back this morning,” he said. “You weren’t doing it in case Leslie was watching, either. You’ve buried everything you used to feel for me, but it’s still there. I want to try to dig it back up again.”
    She studied her hands in her lap. It was tempting, because, despite everything that had happened, she loved Dawson. But the memories were too fresh even now, the pain too real. She couldn’t block out the years of sarcastic remarks, cutting words, that had wounded her so badly.
    She didn’t know what he was offering, other than an attempt at a physical relationship. He’d said nothing about loving her. She knew he felt guilty about the baby she’d lost, and the knowledge of her miscarriage was very new to him. When he had time to cope with the grief, he might find that all he really felt for her was pity. She wanted much more than that.
    She traced a chipped place on one neat fingernail.
    “Well?” he asked impatiently.
    She lifted her eyes. “I agreed to pretend to be engaged to you,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to live in Sheridan for the rest of my life, or give up the promotion I’ve been offered at my school in Tucson.” He started to speak, but she held up her hand. “I know all too well how wealthy you are, Dawson, I know that I could have anything I wanted. But I’m used to making my own way in the world. I don’t want to become your dependent.”
    “There are schools in Sheridan,” he said shortly.
    “Yes. There are good schools in Sheridan, and I’m sure I could get a position teaching in one. But they’d know my connection to you. I could never be sure if I got the job on my merit or yours.”
    He glared at her. This wasn’t at all what he’d expected, especially after the way she’d softened toward him since last night.
    “Don’t you feel anything for me?” he asked.
    She dropped her eyes to the emerald ring on her engagement finger. “I care for you, of course. I always will. But marriage is more than I can give you.”
    He got off the desk and turned away to the window. “You blame me for the baby, is that it?”
    She glanced at his straight back. “I don’t blame anyone. It wasn’t preventable.”
    His head lifted a little higher.