Wyoming Strong. Diana Palmer
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу Wyoming Strong - Diana Palmer страница 6
“I’m grateful for what you did,” Gabriel said, sidestepping the question. “She should have taken a limo to Houston. I’ll make sure she does next time.”
Wolf calmed down, but only a little. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his expensive jeans. “She ran into me with the car, you know. Then she blamed me for it. That started the whole thing. I hate aggressive women,” he added shortly.
“She tends to overreact,” Gabriel said noncommittally.
“I don’t even like brunettes,” he said curtly. His pale eyes flashed. “She’s not my type.”
“You’re certainly not hers,” the younger man pointed out with a grin.
“Who is?” Wolf asked. “One of those tofu-eating tree huggers?”
“Sara...doesn’t like men.”
Wolf raised an eyebrow. “She likes women?”
“No.”
Wolf’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not telling me anything.”
“That’s exactly right,” Gabriel replied. He pursed his lips. “But I’ll tell you this. If she ever showed any interest in you, I’d get her out of the country by the quickest means available.”
Wolf glared at him.
“You know what I mean,” Gabriel added quietly. “I wouldn’t wish you on any woman alive, much less my baby sister. You still haven’t dealt with your past, after all this time.”
Wolf’s teeth were clenched.
Gabriel put a hand on his shoulder. “Wolf, not all women are like Ysera,” he said softly.
Wolf jerked away from him.
Gabriel knew when he was licked. He smiled. “So, how’s the wargaming?”
It was a carrot, and Wolf bit. “New expansion coming out,” he said, and smiled. “I’m looking forward to it, now that I’ve got somebody to run dungeons with.”
“Your mysterious woman.” Gabriel chuckled.
“I assume she’s a woman,” he replied, shrugging. “People aren’t usually what they seem in these games. I was complimenting a guildie on his mature playing style, and he informed me that he was twelve years old.” He laughed. “You never know who you’re playing with.”
“Your woman could be a man. Or a child. Or a real woman.”
Wolf nodded. “I’m not looking for relationships in a video game,” he replied easily.
“Wise man.” Gabriel didn’t tell him what Sara did for amusement. It really wouldn’t do to sell her out to the enemy. He hesitated and glanced toward the street. “There’s a rumor going around.”
Wolf turned his head. “What rumor?”
“Ysera got away,” he reminded the other man. “We’ve searched for over a year, you know. One of Eb’s men thinks he saw her, at a small farm outside Buenos Aires. With a man we both remember from the old days.”
Wolf’s face tightened as if he’d been shot. “Any intel on why she’s there?”
Gabriel nodded grimly. “Revenge,” he said simply. His eyes narrowed. “You need to hire on a couple of extra men. She’d have your throat slit if she could.”
“I’d return the favor if I could do it legally,” Wolf returned with faint venom.
Gabriel slid his hands into his jeans pockets. “So would the rest of us. But you’re the one in danger, if she really is still alive.”
Wolf didn’t like remembering the woman, or the things he’d done because of her lies. He still had nightmares. His eyes had a cold, faraway look. “I thought she was dead. I hoped...” he confessed quietly.
“It’s hard to kill a big snake,” the other man said flatly. “Just...be careful.”
“Watch your own back,” Wolf replied.
“I always do.” He wanted to tell the other man about Sara, to warn him off, to avert a tragedy in the making. But his friend didn’t seem really interested in Sara, and he was reluctant to share intimate details of Sara’s past with her worst enemy. It was a decision that would have consequences. He didn’t realize how many, at the time.
GABRIEL WENT BACK to work, and Sara had a weekend jaunt to the Wyoming ranch with Michelle during spring break. Then Michelle went back to school, and Sara went shopping in downtown San Antonio.
Sara shopped for spring clothes and then tried on mantillas in the huge Mercado in San Antonio, enjoying the sounds and smells of the market. A few minutes later, she took her purchases to the River Walk and sat down at a small table, watching the boats go by. It was April. The weather was warm and dry, and flowers were appearing in the planters all around the café. It was one of her favorite places.
She put her purse under the table and leaned back, her beautiful hair rippling with the movement. She had on black slacks and loafers and a candy-pink blouse that emphasized her exquisite complexion. Her black eyes danced as she listened to a strolling mariachi band.
She moved her chair to accommodate two men sitting down behind her. One of them was Wolf Patterson. Her heart jumped. She rushed to finish her cappuccino, gathered her bags and went to pay for it at the counter.
“Running away?” a silky, deep voice asked at the back of her head.
“I was finished with my coffee,” she said stiffly, smiling and thanking the clerk as she was handed her change.
When she turned, he was blocking the way out. His pale eyes were flashing with hostility. He looked as if he’d have liked to fry her on a griddle.
She swallowed down the nervousness that always assailed her when he was close. She tried to step back, but there was no place to go. Her huge, beautiful eyes widened with apprehension.
“When does your brother get back?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” she said. “He thinks maybe by the weekend.”
He nodded. His eyes narrowed on her face. “What are you afraid of?” he asked half under his breath.
“Not a thing, Mr. Patterson,” she replied. “Because I’m not your type.”
“Damned straight.”
She was ready to try to push past him, frustrated beyond rational behavior, when one of his companions called to him.
While he was diverted, she slipped to the side of him, and went