Maverick / The Playboy's Passionate Pursuit. Emilie RoseЧитать онлайн книгу.
Minnich creep is a killer. He’s killed at least one woman, and the law suspects there’s more. If anything happened to her, if he got a chance to harm her in any way, I swear I’d go berserk.” He shuddered at the very idea of Brianna injured. “Hawk, I can’t take her with me. I can’t take that chance.”
Hawk nodded. “There’s the hunter I know and love like a brother. You had me a tad worried that you had slipped a cog.”
Tanner laughed. “Not to worry. Now let’s look at horses.”
Hawk paused at the second stall inside the stable. “We’re going to have to play it cool, you know?”
“Yeah.” Tanner nodded. “We can’t take a chance of her getting suspicious. Leave the lights on in here when we leave. I’ll bring her out to show her the horses we’ve chosen.”
“Show her the mare.” Hawk indicated the chocolate-brown horse in the third stall. “She would be the logical choice for a woman.”
In no time, Brianna had the kitchen spotless and went in search of her room, musing on the idea that Boyo obviously liked her, for he padded after her.
Finding the room easily, Bri stepped inside, and immediately wondered if Hawk had frequent visits from lady friends. The bedroom had definite feminine touches, including a vanity table and bench, the surface littered with an array of skin-care products, makeup and a silver-backed comb-and-brush set.
Along the back wall was a queen-size bed, set between two windows through which the last rays of sunlight shone. Crossing the room, Bri drew back a sheer curtain panel to stare out at the vista. A huge meadow spread out from the side of the house and along the foothills of the mountain. She was puzzled for a moment by a large, flat, whitish circle on the ground a good distance from the house.
Then realization dawned. The white circle was a helicopter pad, right there on the edge of the meadow.
How convenient, she thought, smiling as she turned away from the window. A chopper would come in very handy when snow blocked the roadways in the dead of winter.
She had to smile. Boyo had made himself comfortable and lay stretched out on the foot of the bed as if it were his right to do so. Deciding it probably was, she walked back across the room, sitting down at the vanity to gaze into the mirror. Her hair, drying now, twirled into its natural waves. Her face appeared pale and dull. Bri was considering whether to retrieve her makeup case when she heard the front door open, close again and Tanner call to her.
“Brianna, Hawk’s making a fresh pot of coffee. Do you want some?”
Sliding off the bench, she went to the door and called back, “Yes, I’ll be right there.” Glancing at the dog, she said, “You coming?” Boyo lifted his large head to give her a soulful look, then his head plopped back onto the mattress.
Guess not. A soft smile on her lips, she glanced again in the mirror, shrugged and left the room, thinking the hell with the hair and makeup. If Tanner and Hawk didn’t like her bare face and unruly waves, they could just get over it.
“I like your hair down like that,” Tanner said as she strolled into the kitchen. He grinned. “All kinda wild and loose around your face.”
Bri gave him a droll look. “Thank you.” Might as well admit to the truth, she thought, smiling back at him. “I didn’t bother to brush it.”
“You didn’t need to bother,” Hawk said, placing two steaming mugs on the table. Crossing to the countertop to retrieve the third, he tossed over his shoulder, “You’re among friends.”
“I would hope so, as it’s two to one here.” She calmly glanced from Hawk to Tanner. “Not that those are bad odds, you understand, or that I couldn’t handle the two of you. But it could get ugly.”
Silence for a moment. Then both men broke up with laughter.
“I like this gal’s style, Wolfe,” Hawk said between lingering chuckles. “She might even be able to handle you, maverick that you are.”
“I wouldn’t bet the ranch on it, ole buddy,” Tanner advised in a slow drawl.
Could she handle him? Bri asked herself hours later as she lay in the wide bed, staring at the diffuse moonlight shimmering on the ceiling through the sheer curtains. That same question had played games with her mind throughout the rest of the evening.
As soon as they had finished their coffee, Tanner had taken her to the stables to show her the horses Hawk had chosen for their use. Tanner’s mount was a big roan with a shiny dark-red coat. For Brianna he had picked a brown mare, smaller than the roan but with a sweet temperament. The minute Brianna stretched out her palm, the mare poked her head over the gate on the stall.
Pleased with Hawk’s selections, Bri introduced herself to the horses, talking softly to each as she stroked their noses and long necks in turn.
“I noticed from the bedroom window that Hawk has a helipad in the back pasture,” she said later as they walked back to the house. “Does he own and fly his own personal helicopter?”
“No. He has the pad because he’s alone out here most of the time. Although Hawk is a careful man by nature, accidents can always happen—to humans and animals. He installed the pad for convenience and for a quicker medical rescue response if needed.” He tossed her a grin. “But, though he has lived here for a long time, he put in the pad only after Cat began using the ranch for a vacation getaway when she needed some space to be herself, breathe fresh air, roam free on the grounds.”
“I see,” Bri said, but then shook her head. “No, I guess I don’t see. I can understand her wanting to visit her brother, but you said before she uses Hawk’s place for a hideout. From what?”
“From the city, the crowds, the polluted air. Also from the jerks who get their kicks by making cracks about her heritage.”
Anger flashed through her like a bolt of lightning. “I detest that sort of thing.”
“Hey, don’t attack me,” Tanner said in a calming tone. “I feel the same way. But, like it or not, I’m afraid there are still some Neanderthals screwing up society. Men like the animal who attacked your sister and raped and killed her friend.”
“I know.” Bri nodded, exhaling to release the anger. “I have to deal with the crude type occasionally in the library.”
“You work in a library?”
“Yes. I’m a research librarian at the University of Pennsylvania.”
“The men come on to you, make suggestive remarks?” His voice carried an edgy note.
Confused by the sudden sharpness of his tone, she gave him a quick glance. His expression was bland, but his eyes were cold. Now what was biting him?
“Well?” he prompted, his voice now as cold as his eyes. “What did the crude jerks say to you?”
“Oh, the usual.” She shrugged. “You know, juvenile things like, ‘Oh, I’ve found the ice-queen types are always the hottest.” ’
“Wonderful.” His lip curled. “How smooth. How very debonair.” He shook his head. “That line should have all the women falling on their backs for him. Stupid kids.”
Bri shot a droll look at him. “That particular line came from one of the professors.”
Tanner stared at her a moment, then laughed. “Some men never grow up, do they, no matter how smart and well-educated they are.”
“So it seems,” Bri agreed with him, smiling as they strolled toward the house.
When they reached the porch, he came to a stop, turning to face her, grasping her shoulders. “I guess I’m no smarter than the others.”
“What do you mean?” Her voice began to fade and her breathing grew erratic, strained, as he lowered his head to hers.
“Fool