The Rebel Rancher. DONNA ALWARDЧитать онлайн книгу.
as she held out her hand. She could set the tone between them right here and now. Businesslike—exactly the way it should be between her and Virgil’s adopted son.
But it was an utter flop of an attempt. His warm fingers enveloped hers in a strong, lingering grip. A hint of a smile flirted with the corners of his mouth. “It’s just Ty,” he replied, with a voice as smooth and chocolaty as the dark depths of his eyes. “Or Tyson if I’m on your bad side.”
Bad side? Right now she felt as though she might swallow her tongue as she looked into his face. She liked the feel of her hand in his. Where was the old reliable revulsion she’d become accustomed to? The instinctive need to pull away and keep her distance? She knew how to deal with that. This was all new territory, and she was momentarily at a loss for words.
His smile widened and she pulled her hand away, hiding her fingers within the clasp of her left hand. “Right,” she said, her voice shaking. “Well, I’d better get your dad inside. Good night, everyone.”
She couldn’t meet his gaze as she scuttled away, but she heard Sam’s voice and it made her burn with humiliation.
“Go easy,” Sam warned Ty.
“Did I do anything?” There was a hint of defensiveness in Ty’s voice that fit with what she’d heard through the grapevine. That things weren’t as smooth sailing between the brothers as they seemed.
She quickened her steps so she wouldn’t hear Sam’s answer. Everything she’d heard around town was right, then. She hadn’t been able to tune out the snatches of conversation that had reached her ears today. The return of the prodigal Tyson was a hot topic. Unfortunately so was his track record with the ladies.
Tyson Diamond was gorgeous and he knew it. He was also a wild card and Sam’s illegitimate cousin who’d been adopted by Virgil and Molly as a baby. Trouble. He was the last person who should make Clara blush and stammer. She was smarter than that, wasn’t she?
Now he’d hung up his rodeo spurs and was coming home to run the ranch with Sam. With Virgil still recovering and needing regular care, they were going to see each other all the time.
Great. Just wonderful.
Clara helped Virgil get settled, but once she was alone in the quiet house her unease came back with a vengeance, sending tingles shooting up the backs of her legs and making an all-too-familiar weight settle in her chest. It had been a long, tiring day and her defenses were down. That had to be the reason why Ty’s simple handshake had made her react in such an uncharacteristic way. Or maybe it was just weddings. Weddings did tend to make people sentimental and romantic, right? She twisted her fingers. Or stupid.
Either way, it was one day. It didn’t matter a bit if she found Tyson attractive. She had no interest in romance. Not after all that had been taken away from her in the name of “love.” She had her eye set on her goal and nothing was going to divert her from it.
She escaped into the first-floor powder room, sat down on the closed toilet and focused on breathing deeply for a few minutes. Once she’d regrouped she got up, ran some cold water over her hands and carefully touched them to her cheeks, soothing the heat there without marring her makeup. She could do this. She’d come too far to go back to hiding away at the first whiff of discomfort. Goodness, a year ago she would never have made it through a day like today. She shouldn’t let something like this rattle her.
She stared into the mirror. “Living in fear is not living. I will not live in fear.”
The words soothed, both from sentiment and habit. She let out a breath and straightened her shoulders. She opened the door and nearly ran straight into Tyson’s chest.
His hands gripped her arms, steadying her from toppling over in the heels she wasn’t used to wearing.
“Whoa,” he said, his low voice rippling over her nerve endings.
Her faced flamed anew, his word choice making her feel decidedly klutzy and horsy. And he was touching her again. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t know anyone was waiting for the bathroom.”
“I was waiting for you,” he replied easily. He squatted down slightly so that he was closer to her height and peered into her face. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her. As though he was trying to figure her out. The less he knew about her the better. And she planned to keep it that way, no matter how often their paths crossed in the coming weeks.
“Waiting for me?”
“You ran off quite a while ago. I wanted to be sure you’re all right.”
“Of course I am.” His hands seemed to burn through the soft fabric of her dress to the skin beneath. She conjured up the polite smile she’d practiced all week in the mirror. “It took me a while to get your dad settled, that’s all.”
Liar, her brain protested, but she ignored it. A warmth ran through her at his concern. Usually she managed to fly under the radar, blending into her surroundings like a chameleon. People usually didn’t notice if she came or went. But Ty had.
Despite her assurances, Tyson didn’t budge from blocking the hallway. His lips curled up in the most alluring manner. Lordy, with a smile like that she bet he didn’t even have to try with the ladies. They’d all fall in his lap, wouldn’t they?
She stepped around him and he dropped his fingers from her arms. She breathed a little easier once he wasn’t touching her anymore. “If you’ll excuse me …”
“What’s your hurry?” he asked, his soft voice humming over her already raw nerves, making her pause, making her realize once more that they were very alone here in the house while the party went on outside.
“I should get back to Angela, make sure …”
“Angela and Sam have gone. You missed the throwing of the bouquet.”
Clara’s heart sank. Had she truly been gone so very long? Not that she’d wanted to catch the bouquet by any means, but she’d disappeared into a corner exactly the way she’d promised herself she wouldn’t. Once again she’d missed out on good things because she was too busy hiding herself away from something awkward or uncomfortable.
“I thought all the single women fought over catching it.” He raised his eyebrows. “You are single, aren’t you?”
The question was so ludicrous that Clara almost laughed. Single? Absolutely. For now and forever.
“I’m not interested in catching any bouquets,” she remarked, finally looking up in his eyes. They were good eyes, she had to admit. They were dark brown but she noticed now that they had little golden flecks around the pupils and crinkles in the corners. His lips were finely shaped, full where they needed to be full and just now curved in what she was realizing was his trademark smile—tilted to one side as if he was sharing a joke. All in all it was a bit lethal, and he was just the sort of man she might have been interested in before.
Before. She looked away from Ty’s handsome face and focused on the closet door behind his shoulder. It seemed her life was split into two distinct parts. Before Jackson and after Jackson. The carefree Clara she had been before no longer existed. Jackson had destroyed her.
For well over a year she’d been rebuilding herself from square one. The new Clara stood here now, in a new life and with a new job. She had to remember that. She had accomplished so much. She was a lot more careful now. A lot more cautious. A lot smarter.
“That’s a shame,” Ty responded, and she heard a laugh in his voice. “Because I caught this.”
She caught a glimpse of a blue-and-white lace garter as he stretched it out over a finger. Was he flirting with her? It seemed preposterous. She was plain as ditch water, and to a man like Ty, probably twice as dull. For heaven’s sake, she lived in a women’s shelter and spent her days as a private nurse. She was distinctly unworldly and unexciting. And Ty was a rodeo star and drifter. They had absolutely nothing in common.
She