ruffled the boy’s hair. “See you later.”
Maggie saw Dallas heading for the front door, and was instantly on edge. Did she look all right? She was wearing jeans and a pink blouse. Her wardrobe wasn’t anything to boast about. Raising a child alone was an expensive endeavor and she’d had precious little money to spend on clothes.
But her hair was fixed and there was makeup on her face—not much because she didn’t use a lot of makeup— Actually, she realized, she looked as good as she could—other than wearing glamorous, more expensive clothing, of course.
When Dallas knocked, Maggie held her breath for five counts, then opened the door. She hoped her smile was only pleasantly welcoming.
Before she could say hello, Dallas huskily said, “Maggie,” in such an intimate way that she backed up a step. She swallowed hard and forced a “hello” out of her mouth.
Dallas suddenly believed he knew the best way to approach Maggie. She was so sexy-looking that she must prefer a man to act like a man. He figured he could carry it off.
“May I come in?” he asked.
“Uh, sure, yes, of course.” Standing back, Maggie held the door open wider so he could enter. Her knees got weak when he passed by her at a snail’s pace and even appeared to be inhaling the faint scent of the cologne she used so sparingly.
She couldn’t think of one sensible thing to say to him. Why are you here? was just too blunt, although that particular question was definitely at the root of her confusion. Unnerved, she slammed the door shut a little too hard.
Dallas grinned. Obviously he was ruffling her feathers, which was a good sign that he was right about her preferring a man to be a man.
His smile broadened. “How are you today?”
“Fine,” she said stiffly. “I’m fine. And you?”
“Right as rain,” he quipped.
Maggie was beginning to remember her manners. “Would—would you like something cool to drink? There’s fresh lemonade in the refrigerator.”
“Thanks, I’d love a glass of lemonade.”
Grateful that she had dusted and vacuumed the house that morning, Maggie said, “Go on into the living room. I’ll get the drinks.”
“Thanks.” Dallas went one way, Maggie another.
When she walked into the living room a few minutes later with two glasses of lemonade, Dallas was standing at the one window in the room from which he could see Travis playing in the yard.
Dallas accepted a glass and said, “That’s some boy you have, Maggie. You must be mighty proud of him.”
“Yes, I am.” She sat on the sofa. “Sit anywhere,” she told him.
“Thanks.” Dallas chose Ruben’s favorite chair and took a big swallow of his lemonade. “This is good. Getting back to Travis, he sure seems focused on being tough—like his grandfather and uncle.”
Maggie groaned. “He wants to be tough so badly, and I don’t think he even knows the true meaning of the word.”
“He’s all boy, Maggie. Let me ask you something. Would you mind if I took him riding sometime?”
“He’s never been on a horse, Dallas. Papa told him he would teach him to ride, but he hasn’t had the time yet.”
“I’d put him on our most gentle horse, Maggie, and guarantee his safety. For that matter, you could come with us and see for yourself that he’s all right.”
While she was trying to think of a response to that somewhat troubling invitation, Dallas’s expression became caressing and intimate. “Know what I’d like to do right now?” he said softly. “Make love to you, Maggie. You’re just about the only thing I’ve thought of since we talked yesterday.”
She knew she should feel insulted: no man had ever spoken his mind so clearly to her before. But she was stunned because instead she felt overheated and achy in personal places.
“You—you don’t mean what you just said,” she whispered hoarsely. “We don’t even know each other.”
“We grew up together.”
“Knowing each other as kids doesn’t mean we know each other now.”
“You’re evading the issue. Will you go out with me tonight?”
Maggie felt as though a steel band around her chest was cutting off her air supply. “So we—we can make love? How dare you even suggest such a thing!”
“You’re trying very hard to be angry, aren’t you? Surely you don’t prefer that a man hide his true feelings and seduce you when you’re not looking.” Dallas set his glass on the table next to his chair and then leaned forward. “Maggie, with you I think everything should be out in the open. I was struck dumb by you yesterday. You’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen, but there’s more to you than an incredible face and body. You hit me precisely where it counts for a man, and I thank you with all my heart for that.”
“So I should sleep with you just because you—you feel grateful for something I didn’t even know I did?”
“Not sleep, Maggie. I doubt that we’d be doing much sleeping. I need to know something. Where’s your husband?”
“You don’t even know I’m divorced—and you’re asking me to go to bed with you? That does it!” Jumping to her feet, Maggie angrily advanced on the crudest man she’d ever known. “So you want to take Travis riding? You louse, you actually have the gall to use my son as an excuse to get to me! Well, read my lips, Mr. Fortune. I will never, let me repeat, never, have one personal moment with you! Is that clear enough?”
She’d made a tactical error. Dallas recognized it, Maggie didn’t. In her fury she’d gotten close enough to Dallas that it was a simple matter for him to reach out, take her by the waist and pull her down on his lap. She didn’t want to scream and risk scaring Travis outside, but she wiggled and fought and did her best to scratch out Dallas Fortune’s whiskey-colored eyes!
“So you’re a little wildcat,” Dallas said with a satisfied laugh after catching her flailing hands in his. “I figured you were. Come closer, little wildcat, and let me tame you.”
Maggie never did know how he managed to hold both her hands and press on the back of her head at the same time, but the next thing she did know was that his mouth was devouring hers. Fighting him did no good, so she did exactly the opposite. She sat statue-still until he stopped kissing her and looked at her with puzzled eyes.
“You didn’t like being kissed like that?” he asked.
“I don’t like anything about you!” she shrieked loudly enough to endanger his eardrums. Remembering Travis just outside, she lowered her voice. “Take your hands off of me and get the hell out of this house, you…you Fortune!”
Dallas’s heart sank clear to his toes. He’d completely misread Maggie Perez. She might look sexy as sin, but she obviously preferred a more gentlemanly
