The Wolf And The Dove. Linda Turner

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light, but he couldn’t focus on anything but the taste of her, the feel of her, the heat of her. God, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt any kind of female warmth. He just wanted to hold her and kiss her and not think about anything except how good it felt. With a groan that came from the depths of his soul, he slanted his mouth across hers and took the kiss deeper.

      Dazed, boneless, clinging to him, Rocky tried to remember Greg and how he had hurt her, but the only image that came to mind was Lucas with his dark, wary eyes and rugged face. He kissed her with a desperation that stole her breath and set her pulse thrumming with a blind, lonely need that was as plaintive and heart-tugging as the call of a wolf on a cold winter night. Her head spinning, she frantically ordered herself to stop this madness right now, but in the dark, wet, hidden recesses of her mouth, his tongue wooed and cajoled and sweetly seduced. Shuddering, her hands climbing up his arms, she moaned and crowded closer, lost to everything but the pleasure drizzling through her like warm honey.

      The second her injured hand molded itself to his shoulder, however, pain flared in her palm like a struck match, so hot she could practically smell the sulfur. Her cry muffled against his mouth, she jerked back, breathing hard, and stared at him in dismay. Dear God, what was she doing? This was Lucas Greywolf, her landlord, for heaven’s sake, the man who thought she was spoiled and pampered and walked around with her nose in the air and hundred-dollar bills hanging out of her pockets. He was arrogant and condescending and judgmental, and she’d kissed him! She had to be losing her mind.

      Heat stealing into her cheeks, determined not to let him see how he had shaken her, she let out her breath in a huff and forced a cheeky grin. “Well. If that was an attempt to kiss it and make it better, you were more than a little off the mark, Doc.”

      He was not amused. His jaw was as rigid as granite. “What it was was inexcusable. I wouldn’t blame you if you slapped my face.”

      “C’mon, Doc, it was just a kiss.” She laughed with pretended nonchalance. “Don’t sweat it. And thanks for the stitch job. Don’t forget to send me a bill.” Grabbing her coat, she headed for the door, trying not to run.

      Ten seconds later, the front door slammed, leaving behind a silence that was as cold and deep as the snow piling up outside. Standing flat-footed in the examining room where she’d left him, feeling as if he’d been run over by a truck, Lucas stared after her and started to swear.

      Bustling into Lucas’s private office three days later, Mary caught him scowling out the window at the hangar in the distance and hurriedly bit back a smile. Lucas wasn’t normally a brooder, but he’d spent most of the day staring out the window—at the hangar—whenever there was a lull in patients. And she had a feeling his interest in the old place had nothing to do with planes.

      Her eyes starting to dance with expectation, she laid the day’s mail on his desk, then said casually, “I’ve been going over the invitation list for the Christmas party, and it seems to be missing a few names.”

      He turned, his scowl still in place. “Oh, yeah? Who?”

      “Judge Ryan,” she replied promptly. “Since he bought the old Carson place, he’s practically a neighbor.”

      “You’re right,” he agreed. “I should have thought of him myself. Go ahead and put him on the list.”

      “What about Rocky Fortune?”

      The look he shot her would have done one of his fierce Shoshone ancestors proud. Mary didn’t even blink. “What about her?”

      “What about her?” Mary echoed, amused by his deliberate obtuseness. “Lucas, you’re leasing the hangar to her! Don’t you think it would be rude not to invite her to the only party you give all year?”

      “Not at all,” he said curtly, his gut clenching just at the thought of seeing her again. He’d spent most of the night fighting off the memory of a kiss that never should have happened, and his obsession with her hadn’t improved with the light of day. Damn the woman, he could still taste her, still feel her against him—

      Swearing under his breath, he picked up the mail Mary had brought in and blindly flipped through it. “It’s not like she’s a friend or anything. We have a business arrangement, nothing more.”

      “But—”

      “And she probably wouldn’t come, anyway. We don’t exactly run in the same circles, you know.”

      “Then it won’t hurt to send her an invitation,” Mary said promptly, grinning. “Just as a courtesy.”

      Tossing down the mail, he growled, “Don’t waste a stamp.”

      Mary shrugged, as if to say that was fine with her, but there was a glint of mischief in her eye that Lucas would have immediately recognized if he had seen it. He didn’t. Deliberately turning toward the door, she quickly brought the subject back to work. “Elizabeth Crow’s here. She thinks she wrenched her back carrying in firewood. I’ll show her into room two.”

      When she got the invitation in the mail, Rocky stared at it long and hard. There had to be a mistake. The doc might have kissed her until her toes curled, but she wasn’t fooling herself into thinking that he liked her. In fact, she seemed to have a talent for getting under his skin. He’d gone out of his way to avoid her ever since he’d kissed her. So why had he invited her to his Christmas party?

      “What’s that?”

      Glancing up from her confused thoughts, Rocky smiled at Charlie Short, her new mechanic. He’d been the first one to answer the ad she placed in the local paper, and she’d only had to talk to him five minutes to know that he was just the man she was looking for. As short as his name, wiry and pushing sixty, he was gruff and blunt and not shy about giving her advice when he thought she needed it. And what he didn’t know about planes wasn’t worth mentioning. Over the past two days, he’d gone over the fleet she’d inherited from her grandmother, and he had every engine purring like a kitten.

      “Nothing,” she said with a shrug. “Just an invitation to Dr. Greywolf’s Christmas party next week.”

      “Hey, great! I’ve heard about those parties of his—the food’s supposed to be something else. You’re going, aren’t you?”

      Her heart took a dive just at the thought of getting anywhere near the man anytime soon. She didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to socialize with him, didn’t want to look into his eyes and think about a kiss that had haunted her sleep for the past five nights.

      “It’s just one of those courtesy things,” she said stiffly, tossing the invitation in the trash. “I don’t think there’s much point in going.”

      “Are you kidding?” Snatching up the invitation, he looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Dammit, girl, where’s your head? Just about anyone who’s anyone in Clear Springs is going to be at that shindig. And you should be, too! You need to get out and mingle with the locals and let them know that you’re open and ready for business. This is a chance for some free advertising, for God’s sake! Take advantage of it.”

      He had a point, one that Rocky would have given just about anything to deny. But she wasn’t Kate Fortune’s granddaughter for nothing. As much as she wanted to avoid Lucas like a bad case of the measles, she couldn’t let her own personal likes and dislikes interfere with sound business decisions.

      “Oh, all right, all right,”

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