Date with a Cowboy. Diana Palmer
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“I’ll go,” he said. “Where’s your house key?”
“It’s in the zippered compartment in my purse.” She indicated it, hanging over the closet doorknob. “Can you make sure Morris has enough water while you’re there?” she added, hating even to have to ask. “Tony fed him already, he said, but Morris drinks a lot of water.”
He retrieved the key. “I’ll take care of him.”
“Thanks,” she said without meeting his eyes.
He gave her one last look and left her. He’d made a stupid mistake. He hoped he’d have time to make it up to her.
Tony was just clearing away supper when Jared stopped in the kitchen doorway. “I’m going over to Sara’s house to get her a few things to wear.”
Tony’s eyebrows arched. “You know where she lives?”
He cursed mentally. Of course he didn’t know where she lived; he’d never been to her house.
“And you can’t go alone,” the big man added solemnly. “They’d love to catch you out alone at night. They have all the equipment we’ve got, and more.” He took off the apron and tossed it aside. “I’m going with you.”
“That will leave Sara here alone,” Jared argued.
Tony pointed a device down the hall and locks slid into place audibly. “She wouldn’t be any safer in Fort Knox with the alarm systems activated,” Tony told his boss. “Besides, I’ve got Clayton out there with night vision and a Glock.”
He relaxed a little. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Tony paused by the closet on the way out and retrieved his .45 in its shoulder holster. He took just seconds to get it in place before he opened the front door and shepherded his boss out to the truck parked in the circular driveway.
Before they got into it, Tony waved his hand and a tall, shadowy figure approached the car, going over it with electronic devices.
“All clear,” the newcomer said.
“Nobody gets in or out while we’re gone,” Tony told him.
“Yes, sir.”
Tony climbed in behind the wheel, letting Jared ride shotgun. The shadowy figure moved back into the darkness beside the house and settled in.
While Jared was gone, the phone started ringing off the hook. Sara waited for Tony to answer it, but he didn’t. There didn’t seem to be an answering machine, either. She didn’t know what to do. The stupid instrument wouldn’t stop. Finally, in desperation, she picked up the receiver by her bed.
“Cameron residence,” she said, trying to sound like a secretary.
“Where’s Jared?” came a biting reply.
Sara didn’t have to ask who it was. That strident tone was unforgettable. “I don’t know,” she said. “Sorry,” she added quickly.
There was a pause. “It’s the little house guest, isn’t it?” the horrible woman purred. “Well, don’t get too comfortable. Jared wouldn’t give you the time of day if you hadn’t appealed to his senses, but it won’t last. He has women like some men have cars, and he doesn’t want anything permanent. He’ll dump you the first time you sleep with him.”
“I do not sleep with men!” Sara retorted harshly.
“You don’t?” She laughed. “That’s what his last lover said, too. She gave in just like all the rest. And he dumped her just as fast.”
“What do you want?” Sara asked, trying to be polite when she felt like screaming at the woman.
“What we all want, dear,” the other woman laughed. “To have Jared for keeps. But that won’t happen. If he wasn’t so financially secure, he might be less attractive,” she added.
“I know very little about Mr. Cameron,” Sara said stiffly. “And I don’t think you should talk about him that way. You’re supposed to be his lawyer.”
“His lawyer, his lover, it’s all the same,” came the bored reply. “Tell him I called.”
She hung up.
Sara felt sick at her stomach. Surely the horrible woman wasn’t right? Jared didn’t seem like a heartless seducer. But what did she really know about him? Next to nothing. Could he be a ladykiller? Sara felt insecure. She was still very young. She hadn’t dated very much and she’d never had to extricate herself from a dangerously intimate situation. She knew instinctively that Jared was experienced. She’d given in to his hard kisses at once. What if he really put on the pressure? Could she save herself in time?
The thought worried her.
She was still gnawing on it when Jared opened the door and came into her bedroom with a large laundry hamper.
Her eyebrows arched. “You brought my dirty clothes back with you?” she exclaimed, aghast.
He glowered at her. “Tony’s got your clothes. I brought your cat.”
Her heart skipped. He had to be kidding! She sat up on the side of the bed and looked down into the basket. There was old Morris, curled up asleep and purring for all he was worth, on one of her old hand-crocheted afghans.
She looked up at Jared curiously.
“He didn’t touch his supper last night. He wouldn’t eat today, either. Tony thinks he’s worried about you. So we brought him home with us.” Gently he lifted the battle-scarred old marmalade tomcat out of the basket and placed him on the bed with Sara.
Morris opened one green eye, butted his head against Sara affectionately, and went right back to sleep.
“Tony’s bringing the litter box. We can put it in your bathroom,” Jared said disgustedly.
She cuddled Morris while he was in the mood. “He didn’t try to bite you …? Oh!”
He displayed a hand liberally covered with colorful plastic bandages.
“I’m really sorry,” she began.
“I had an old hunting dog I was fond of,” he said gruffly. “He died last month at the age of fourteen years.” He shrugged. “They’re like family.”
She managed a tiny smile. “Yes.”
He heard Tony coming down the hall. “I hope we got the right things.”
Tony came in grinning and put down a suitcase on the chest at the foot of Sara’s bed. “Here’s your stuff. I’ll bring the litter box when I come back. He’s nice, your cat.”
“Well, of course you’d think he was nice,” Jared muttered. “He didn’t sink his fangs into you!”
“He’s got good taste,” Tony defended himself.