He studied her for a moment without answering and her words seemed to echo between them. Her fingers trembled as she combed them back through her hair again.
Finally he shrugged. “I’ve met my share of pedigreed studs, and I’ve found the temperament of mongrels to be a whole lot better.”
“Is that right?” Leaving her jacket on, she turned to hang her hat on the rack beside the door, as much to break contact with his compelling gaze as to be tidy. She had a feeling they werexit talking about dogs any longer. “Is that part of your problem with Neal?”
His jaw tightened. “It could be, but it isxit.” He glanced around. “Do you have a back door to this place?”
“Near my bedroom. I’ll show you.”
She was aware of his tread behind her down the narrow hallway, could feel his gaze on her back, even the heat of his body in the small space. He was too close. If he touched her with those wonderful hands, would she be able to shrug away with the proper indignation? Or would she lean into his touch with a sigh and turn a waiting mouth up to his? She didn’t want to test herself
She walked past the door to give him access to it. She’d left a soft light on in her bedroom, as she always did, to welcome herself home. The white chenille spread was tucked neatly under the pillows, and pictures of her family were arranged artfully on her bedside table. She’d decorated with southwestern prints of Indian women against a backdrop of red cliffs and rustic pueblos.
His glance moved past her to the bedroom. “You have good taste: ‘
“Thank you: ‘
“Is there a gun in one of those bedside table drawers ?
She was startled. Most people didn’t guess that there was. She nodded. “A Lady Smith & Wesson. Five shots .”
“I know how many bullets it takes. Do you know how to use it?”
She faced him. “I grew up in west Texas. My daddy wasn’t much of a family man, but he taught us all how to ride and shoot, how to mend a fence and put up a corral. you’re not talking to a hothouse flower, Mr. Escalante”
“I didn’t expect I was; he said, and turned to the door.
“I put in the locks .”
He nodded and opened the door and a draft of cool air came in, making her realize how heated her skin had become.
She watched the movement of his fingers as he shot the bolt and tested it for strength. Tension built low in her pelvis. Could she manage a quick affair and be done with this craving? She knew the answer even before the question was fully formed. She’d never been the type ; her passions ran deep. But they must not run with this man, no matter how he stirred her.
She tried to ignore the flex of his shoulder muscles as he pushed against the door. “He could always force these doors. He works out in a gym and I think he’s in pretty good shape.”
She had to concentrate to remember who Gabe was talking about With Gabe around, she didn’t have room in her mind for Neal. Gabe’s scent surrounded her pulling her in. “Would you like some coffee?” she blurted, desperate for an excuse to get away from him.
He turned, transfixing her with his deep-set eyes. “The usual answer is, “If it’s made; but of course you don’t have coffee ready.”
“I’ll make some.” Why was she even offering? She didn’t want him to linger and tempt her further.
“Dozi t bother. I’ll be finished soon.” He walked into the bedroom. “Let me check out these windows. It would suit him to come through one of them and surprise you before you’re fully awake.”
She balanced unsteadily against the wall as he put one knee on her bedspread and leaned toward the window over her bed. His jeans pulled tight across his buttocks , and she closed her eyes momentarily. Her hands were clammy. “I’m making coffee; she announced, and fled to the kitchen.
COWARD, DALLAS THOUGHT as she spooned coffee into the basket, scattering some over her clean counter in her haste. He’s only a man. Her hand was steadier as she poured water into the coffeemaker and switched it on. She took off her jacket and hung it over a chair while listening to Gabe moving through her trailer locking and unlocking windows. Gretchen kept him company, judging by the accompanying jingle of dog tags.
By the time Gabe appeared in the kitchen she’d composed herself and could face him with a semblance of equanimity. “What’s the verdict?”
A corner of his mouth tilted up. “You’re a good carpenter”
The words of praise filled her with a ridiculous amount of pride. She cared too much about his opinion , she told herself sternly. “So you think I’m pretty well barricaded in?”
“Probably. Do you still have my card?”
She nodded.
“I have a machine and I check it regularly when I’m out. But call 911 first if Neal shows up. Gretchen will tell you if anyone’s around.” At the sound of her name Gretchen shoved her muzzle into his hand. “She might
” g g, ” not attack, he continued, strokin the do but you never know. You haven’t had a chance to test her.”
“
“True .”
He rubbed Gretchexi’s head and her tail whapped back and forth, knocking against the kitchen doorframe Dallas liked his manner with her dog. Most people kept their distance from Gretchen because of her size, but Gabe treated her with the nonchalance of someone used to big arumals.
“Do you have a dog?” she asked.
“Can’t. Wouldn’t be fair with the kind of life I live.” He squatted down so his face was level with Gretchen’s and she responded byqlicking his cheek and knocking off his hat. Laughing, he picked it up and scrubbed a hand over her neck. “But I’d love to. I’d love to have a dog just like you, you big, clumsy, beautiful mutt.”
Gretchen swiped her tongue over his face again. -“Wet kisses will get you anywhere; he said, laughingagain.
Dallas stared at them as her image of Gabe tumbled into a new dimension. The sound of his laughter had surprised and charmed her. She’d become so used to his intensity she’d discounted the possibility of a softer side.
He glanced up at her. “I think the coffee’s done.”
With a start she turned to discover the coffeemaker had stopped gurgling.
“Smells good; he said, rising and setting his hat on the courZter. “Guess I could use a cup, after all .”
“Me, too.” Or something stronger. She opened a cupboard and considered her collection of mugs. Each was different. Some had clever sayings inscribed on them; others she dchosen for their beauty or connection to a place she’d loved. Smack in the front of the shelf was the mug Amber had given her for Christmas. Hair Stylists Get You Lathered Up. Gabe was standing directly behind her. Unless his eyesight was bad, he could read the inscription easily. Damn. She didn’t need more reminders of sex around here.
She reached for a mug she’d picked up at the Grand Canyon and another with a picture of a fawn-colored Great Dane on it. Then she closed the cupboard and poured the coffee. “Do you take anything in it?”
“No : ‘
She schooled her expression to casual disinterest before turning to hand him the mug. He accepted it without comment.
“Your… your haircut isn’t too bad.”
“Tharqlcs.” He leaned one hip against the counter and Gretchen heaved herself down in front of him, nearly lying across his feet.
“Did you finish the job yourself?”
He shook his head and sipped his coffee.
For the first time it occurred to her he might have a girlfriend. She d been arrogantly assuming she’d have to protect herself from his advances. Maybe he had no interest in her whatsoever, except as a damsel in distress The thought chastened her.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a Texas girl, he said, cradling the mug in both hands. “What happened to your accent?”