Temptation on His Terms. Robyn Grady

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Temptation on His Terms - Robyn Grady Mills & Boon Desire

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heard the slap of footfalls on the pavement behind her. Next minute, Dex Hunter reappeared, his dynamo frame physically blocking her this time.

      “You said you’d have dinner with me,” he said, “to discuss my proposition.”

      “If that’s how you conduct yourself in public while expecting company, I don’t care to know what you’d get up to in the privacy of your own home, whether an innocent little boy was staying or not.” She tipped forward, spoke clearly. “I won’t be a part of it.”

      “That woman’s a friend.”

      “That would be a friend with benefits?”

      “We were saying goodbye.”

      “I might be a country girl,” Shelby drawled, “but I didn’t fall off the back of a hay cart yesterday. That embrace was not a friendly farewell.”

      It was a prelude to something much deeper. Burning, desperate. She’d come across that kind of kiss before.

      “Bernice had too much to drink,” he told her, catching up as she set off again, a single stride of his equaling two purposeful steps from her. “She’s meeting some buddies and wanted me to tag along. When I said I had plans…” He scratched his ear. “Well, she tried to convince me.”

      “And you put up such a fight,” Shelby said prettily.

      “For all you know, she might’ve been my girlfriend. A fiancée even.”

      At the mention of the F-word, Shelby’s stomach swooped and she stopped. Dex Hunter couldn’t take a hint, even when it slapped him upside the head.

      “I didn’t like what I saw.” Didn’t like the way it made her feel. Uncomfortable. Vulnerable. “Call a nanny agency. And, for heaven’s sake, wipe that lipstick off your cheek.”

      “I checked out your references this afternoon,” he said. “Got some people on the phone.”

      Shelby felt her gaze widen, her throat constrict.

      “At the café,” he said, using a handkerchief to scrub that smear from his jaw, “you mentioned a couple places you worked for back home. People spoke highly of you and your capabilities, by the way. Mrs. Fallon from Hatchlings Kindergarten was especially impressed. She said you connect particularly well with boys.”

      “I liked roping more than tea parties growing up,” she admitted as her thoughts raced on. She didn’t mind that he’d followed up on those names she’d supplied, but now she couldn’t help but wonder. Who else had Dex Hunter spoken to? What else did he know? Not that he would give a hoot about that ugly incident last month. The episode Mountain Ridge would whisper about and lament for years to come.

      “I haven’t seen my youngest brother in six months,” he was saying, “but I’m sure he’s the same kid. Full of mischief and ideas and buckets of energy. You’d like him.” A fond smile reflected in those tawny-colored eyes. “Everyone does.”

      Shelby released a breath.

      Okay. She was curious. Had his brother sat in a saddle yet? Did he like checkers or baseball? Maybe he was more into building blocks, constructing little towns and surrounding them with farms, barns, horses, cows…

      Shelby straightened.

      None of that erased this man’s lame excuse for the nearly R-rated scene she’d just witnessed. Friend indeed.

      She crossed her arms. “You’ll find someone else.”

      “I want you.”

      “Please, just go and join your—”

      Midsentence, she’d glanced back. And froze.

      The woman—Bernice—had flung her arms around yet another man. As her new victim gently pried her away, Bernice tottered then—oh, dear Lord—crumpled and began to cry. While Shelby’s heart sank, two women rushed up. With arms linked around Bernice’s waist, the friends Dex Hunter had mentioned carefully led her away.

      “Bernice’s fiancé broke off their engagement the other week,” he said. “I’ve known the guy for years. Not the marrying kind. Guess tonight, before she went home for good, Bernice wanted to prove something to the world. To herself. Not that she needs to. She was always too good for Mac.”

      Knots filled Shelby’s stomach. How very much she felt for that woman. Hurt and despair could lead a person to do some seriously dumb things. Things you could barely make sense of later on and never take back.

      Dex’s voice broke into her thoughts. “This town’s too tough for someone like her. Too tough for a lot of people.”

      Shelby felt his evaluating gaze on her again, before he straightened both shoulders and got back on track.

      “Whatever you decide about the job,” he said, “I still want to take you to dinner. You’ve been working, serving people all day. Bet you’re as hungry as I am, and I could eat a horse.”

      She gave a grudging grin. “Sounds as if Mrs. Fallon at the kindergarten mentioned my appetite.”

      He chuckled, a smooth rich sound that left her feeling as if she were swirling in a pool of deep warm water. Or was that quicksand?

      “Tate has an appetite, too,” he said. “Last time we caught up, cheeseburgers were his favorite fillers. Although I might have had something to do with that.”

      Her smile, and opinion of Mr. Hunter, loosened up more. He really was charming. And persuasive. A tricky combination, as past experience had taught her. Still…

      “Guess there’s no harm in sharing a meal,” she said. “But we’re going Dutch.”

      “No need—”

      “I insist.”

      Dex didn’t mistake Shelby Scott’s tone. The clear-cut message in her words or in her eyes. She would have dinner with him. Might even answer more questions about her nanny experience in Mountain Ridge. Given that their misunderstanding regarding Bernice had been sorted, no reason he and Shelby shouldn’t get back to negotiations. Although he wasn’t convinced that she saw it that way.

      She had a point. Most people would simply call the best nanny agency in town, let them do the screening and save themselves the trouble. But his gut said Shelby Scott was the right person to help care for the little guy, who not only meant more to Dex than anyone in the world but also needed his protection.

      Someone wanted to harm their media mogul father. Until that man was brought to justice, Tate needed a safe place to stay. No member of the Hunter clan would take a chance on the five-year-old being caught up in another incident like the one Sydney authorities were investigating now. After being run off the road then, later, shot at, his father had been assaulted and almost abducted. Tate had been with his dad and had been a whisker away from being kidnapped, too.

      As Dex swept his gaze up and down the boulevard, deciding on the ideal place to dine—cozy and quiet without being too intimate—his cell phone buzzed. When he ignored it, Shelby seemed confused.

      “That

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