Tough As Nails. Jackie Manning

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Tough As Nails - Jackie  Manning

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my secretary usually doesn’t, but sometimes—”

      “She either does or she doesn’t.”

      Brianna’s eyes snapped. “I forgot. So shoot me.” He could see her composure slip away. No doubt she felt it had been a mistake to come here. “I don’t need a bodyguard. All I want is to identify the stalker on video so I can press charges against him.”

      “Brianna, I’m not trying to scare you, but from what the police said, whoever is stalking you has the expertise—”

      “Please, I don’t need to hear how much danger I’m in, okay?”

      “It’s okay to be scared.”

      “I’m not scared.”

      He studied her. Beneath that stubborn pride she was terrified for her life and she hated that he knew it.

      Her mouth tilted at the corners. “Okay, I’m scared.” Her eyes snapped green fire. “Satisfied?”

      “Nothing wrong with being afraid,” he said gently. “It’s what you do with your fear that’s important.” He tucked the compact computer into his jacket pocket and grabbed an attaché case from the bottom desk drawer. “Let’s get a taxi and start at your office.”

      BRIANNA FELT her insides shake when Mike slipped beside her in the back of the taxi. After giving the driver the address of her office building, she leaned back and willed the butterflies in her stomach to go away, to no avail.

      Maybe she was entitled to react foolishly where Mike was concerned. She’d known it would be hard to confront all those memories. How silly to have remembered him as that rebellious young daredevil. She glanced at him as he clicked his seat belt into place.

      One thing hadn’t changed. He’d always been able to see right through her, long before she was aware of her own true feelings. Her thoughts went back to that time so long ago, in that backwater town in Maine. She’d been a college sophomore, spending the summer with her father in Maine. She’d first seen Mike when he’d caddied at the local country club.

      Mike had worked for her father, or sort of. Harrison Kent III had been owner of Kent Paper Industries, and Mike had worked there on a hydro-pulper. He lived with his father on Mill Street, the row of company houses the paper-mill employees rented.

      She’d been nervous that warm, late-June afternoon when she found out where Mike lived and went to see him. She had planned to ask him if he’d volunteer as lifeguard for the country club’s annual children’s charity.

      She located him in the backyard of one of the typical two-story clapboard houses that were built more than fifty years ago. Mike’s jaw dropped when he saw her, then he quickly recovered when he crawled out from under the body of an old-model, yellow Trans Am.

      He was naked except for a pair of faded denim shorts. She took a deep breath, trying not to appear unnerved at the sight of him. Serves you right for not calling him before dropping in, she chided herself.

      “I was running errands for my aunt and thought I’d stop by.” Although it was true, the statement sounded lame. The disbelieving look he gave her only increased her nervousness.

      He eyed her sideways as he wiped his large, tanned hands on a clean rag. “Don’t tell me. You just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

      Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. “Why, yes, I was.” Her tone sounded defensive. “I just dropped off some proofs for my aunt at the printer’s, which is only two blocks from here.” She was talking too fast, and she forced herself to be cool.

      Her gaze glued to his brilliant blue eyes, although she was aware of his stunning, sun-bronzed torso. She wanted to stare at the fascinating way the black whorls of hair covered his hard muscles and funneled into a dark V past the button of his jeans.

      His expression turned cold and flat. “What are you doing here?”

      He was obviously upset that she’d come unannounced. If she had a lick of sense, she’d never have come.

      “My aunt wanted me to ask you if you’d volunteer at the country club. They need a lifeguard for one weekend a month.” Nora hadn’t exactly asked her to ask Mike, but Brianna had seen his name at the top of the proposed list of candidates. “The summer program for underprivileged children is in high gear, and—”

      “I told your aunt that I’d do it when she asked me last Saturday.”

      “Oh.” Brianna felt like a fool. “I saw your name on the list and…” She took a deep breath to recover. “Nora didn’t tell me.”

      His bottom lip quirked in disbelief. “Your aunt is quite a lady. She and the Judge have done a lot for me, and I owe them, big time.” His blue eyes darkened and he lowered his stare to her breasts. She felt caged by his look, and a delicious weakness coursed through her.

      “Why did you really cross the tracks to come all the way down to Mill Street, Brianna?”

      She stepped back, not wanting to admit the truth, even to herself. “I—I told you.” His dark look made her feel like a groupie at a rock concert. “Obviously my aunt either forgot or wanted to confirm that you hadn’t changed your mind,” she lied. She turned and almost ran toward her car. When she reached the backyard gate, with his long strides he had caught up with her.

      Mike folded his arms across his broad chest, biceps bulging. “Tell me why you’re here.”

      “I—I was curious.”

      “About me?”

      “Yes.”

      “Why? Didn’t your country-club friends fill you in on all the details? Did they tell you my old man is a drunken bum? That my mom ran off when I was two? That I’m no good? Didn’t they warn you to leave me alone?”

      She met his gaze evenly. “I make up my own mind.”

      “And have you?”

      “Yes.”

      He waited for her to say more. When she didn’t, he added, “If you’re trying to make your old man angry, I’m not your guy.”

      “What?”

      “You heard me. I’m not about to risk my job at your old man’s paper mill just so you can prove to Daddy that you’re a big girl. Now that you’re eighteen and inherited your mom’s money.”

      He must have noticed her look of surprise. “Oh, yeah. The country-club gossip doesn’t limit itself to just Mill Street, Brianna. The Kent family is gossiped about, just like everyone else.”

      “If you’re trying to make me uncomfortable—”

      “Nothing like that. I don’t care what you’ve got to prove, just leave me out of it.”

      “You self-centered jerk. How dare you think I’m interested in you. If you believe for one minute that I’m here to…to…” She watched a muscle clench in his jaw. She was frightened and excited by the sudden change in him.

      His gaze

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