Shut Up And Kiss Me. Sara Orwig

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I guess it’s not,” she said coolly, making him want to cross the room and take her in his arms, kiss her soundly and show her it was a man-woman thing after all. “But I’d really like you to spend the next couple of hours with me.” She awarded him the dazzling smile that made his knees weak, and he wondered how many juries and judges had succumbed to the influence of that smile.

      “What the hey,” he said, and grinned. “I have hours yet to kill here.” He strolled over to her and she gazed up at him, the smile still hovering on her lips. If his proximity fazed her, she didn’t show it. “Maybe it could turn into a man-woman thing,” he said softly.

      “Not in this lifetime,” she snapped. “But I’m glad you’ve agreed to stay. Let me arrange a few things, and then we’re out of here. Wait just a minute.”

      Another order. Did the woman even know the word please? he wondered. He sat and watched her move around her office, and in minutes she nodded to him. “I’m ready. Shall we go?”

      He left with her, enjoying the sight of her walking beside him, as well as the scent of her perfume. “Is this another exercise in futility?” he asked.

      “Might be, but I have to do what I have to do. I don’t give up easily.”

      “You’re very passionate about this. Maybe all that passion is just misguided.”

      She laughed, a sexy, flirty laugh, then slanted him a look that made his blood heat. “In your dreams, Colonel! You’re not goading me into sex.”

      “Sometimes the impossible happens,” he retorted lightly, but she was definitely keeping him off balance. He didn’t want to be intrigued by her or physically drawn to her, but he was. A woman who kept shifting from glacial to this kind of sexy was bound to give him trouble.

      At her car he held the door for her and then went around to sit in the passenger seat. As they drove away from her office and into San Antonio traffic, he watched her.

      When they left town and traffic thinned, his curiosity increased. He looked at rolling green hills dotted with sturdy oaks and sprinkled with colorful wildflowers. “So where are we headed—Stallion Pass, perhaps?”

      “Good guess. I want you to see the town.”

      “It won’t do you any good.”

      “You asked me last night, and now I’ll ask you—have you ever been in love?”

      “Yes, I have,” he answered quickly.

      “I’ll bet lots of times,” she said, flashing a quick smile.

      “Sometimes it’s a light, pleasure-only thing and sometimes it’s been more serious, but nothing permanent ever. I’m not a man to settle, and women take a dim view of getting involved with a man with my lifestyle.”

      “Why do I doubt that they protest very much? I’ll bet you’re nearly always the one to break things off.”

      “Why would you think that?”

      “You’re handsome, dynamic, aggressive—”

      “Aggressive? I think I’ve been a model of restraint and cooperation with one exception. I’m not taking a baby as an inheritance.”

      “You might change your mind.”

      “No, I won’t. Handsome?” he repeated, his tone changing as he shifted slightly in the seat to study her more intently. “My, my, Counselor. I’m surprised to get any kind of positive reaction from you,” he said.

      “You didn’t, but I imagine ninety-five percent of the women you meet find you quite attractive.”

      “Now what exactly makes you come to that conclusion?”

      She laughed and glanced at him. “You want me to shower you with compliments? I think your ego is big enough as it is.”

      “And I bet you get hit on often, too. Except you probably scare the hell out of a lot of men.”

      “Do I scare you?” she asked, slanting him another quick, saucy look.

      “Ask me that when you’re not driving, and I’ll show you.”

      “Why do you want to be in the CIA?”

      “You’re changing the subject, but I’ll remind you of it later,” Mike told her. “I want to go into the CIA because I can still serve my country that way. I can do some interesting things, see interesting places.”

      “You can do that in the military, too. Why are you getting out?”

      “It’s a little too much on the edge. I’m tired of getting shot at.”

      “And that won’t happen in the CIA?”

      “I’m wrangling for a desk job.”

      “I’m surprised,” she said. “You look the type for action.”

      “What kind of lawyer are you? Estate planning?”

      “Contract law is my specialty, but I do estates. I’ve done a lot of work for John Frates because we’ve known each other all our lives.”

      “You’re a lot younger than John Frates.”

      She smiled at him. “Thanks, but you don’t know how old I am.”

      “I’d guess twenty-eight,” Mike said, his gaze drifting up and down her.

      “Guessing a woman’s age is a risky business. I’m thirty.”

      “Ten years younger than John.”

      “You remember his age?” She shot Mike a surprised glance.

      “I had to know a lot about John before we went to get him. Personal information helps.”

      As she smiled at him, Mike suspected she knew a lot about his background. They talked while they drove through small towns and across the Texas countryside until finally they reached the outskirts of a town, where a rock wall held a sign that read Welcome to Stallion Pass.

      “So where’s the pass?”

      “There isn’t one. It goes back to an early-day legend of an Apache warrior who fell in love with a cavalryman’s daughter. The soldiers killed the warrior, and according to legend, his ghost was a wild, white stallion that forever roamed these parts looking for his true love. According to the legend, whoever caught the stallion would find love. Anyway, the town got the name Stallion Pass because there have been wild, white stallions around these parts forever.”

      “Is there one now?”

      “The last one I heard about was fairly recent. One of the ranchers here caught a white stallion. He passed it on to one of his friends, who gave it to another friend.”

      “And did love come to them?”

      She smiled. “All of those guys are married now—you

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