The Playboy Meets His Match
“I have two older brothers,” he said. “Ethan and Luke.”
“That’s nice,” she said, not trying to hide her anger. for the next hour they lapsed into silence, a new experience for Jason with a female.
Jason turned south between large posts with the Windover brand carved on the front of each one and drove swiftly along a hard-packed road until they pulled up behind the sprawling ranch house that had belonged to his family for four generations. Moonlight splashed over a combination of red sandstone, rough-hewn logs and glass. A porch with a sloping roof ran along the front and a well-tended lawn was surrounded by a picket fence. Beyond the house were outbuildings, a guest house, a bunkhouse and a barn.
Jason stopped near the back gate and untied the belt, taking her arm to lead her inside. When they entered the house, he switched on lights in a back entryway that held a coat rack, pictures of horses and potted plants. He turned and punched buttons on a keypad to disengage the alarm system that was beeping steadily. As soon as he had finished, the tiny red alarm light changed to green and the alarm was silent.
In the large kitchen he switched on soft lighting that fell over whitewashed oak cabinets and a pale-yellow tiled counter. Jason caught Meredith’s wrist lightly. “Come here,” he said, leading her to the sink. She wore black boots and black, lumpy sweats that hid her figure. And he knew from falling on her and pinning her down in the car that she definitely had a figure. Pulling out a towel, he ran warm water over it and then turned to scrub her face.
“I’d like to see what you look like. You’ve been a dark blob from the first moment I saw you,” he said, looking down at her as he tilted up her chin. At the sight of her in the light, he drew a sharp breath and remorse filled him because she had a raw scrape on her cheek and he knew he had caused it. When he touched her jaw lightly, she jerked her head away.
“I’m sorry you’re hurt. I thought you were a boy.”
Thickly-lashed, large, stormy gray eyes gazed up at him, and the moment his gaze met hers he received the second stunning blow from her. Her eyes took his breath and held him mesmerized. He couldn’t recall ever seeing eyes exactly the color of hers. But it was something more than color that held him breathless. He felt as if he had touched a live wire and sparks were flying all around him. Silence stretched; he realized she was as still as he and he didn’t want to break the contact.
She took the cloth from his hand and began to rub black off her face. He retrieved it, wanting to touch her, wildly curious now to see what she looked like without all the junk on her face. And still neither one of them had spoken or moved or looked away.
“We need to clean up your scrapes quickly. Just a minute and I’ll be back.” Silently, he called himself all sorts of names for causing her face to be scraped raw as he hurried to the nearest bathroom. He returned with a bottle of peroxide. “Lean over the sink and let me pour this over your cheek. It’ll clean your scrape and disinfect it. How long since you had a tetanus shot?”
“Only a year ago.”
She tilted her head and he poured the clear liquid, dabbing gently. “Sorry, if I hurt you.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” she grumbled, and he felt worse than before. Finally he patted her cheek dry. “Let’s see your hands.”
“I can take care of my hands.”
“Put your hands out and let me help,” he ordered. When she held them over the sink, palms up, he winced, hating that he was at fault for her injuries. He washed the scrapes, cleaning and disinfecting them. “I wouldn’t bandage those scrapes tonight. Maybe tomorrow when you’ll be out in the world, but let them heal tonight. Now, let’s get off the rest of whatever you have smeared on you.” In slow deliberate strokes he wiped her face gently, while he continued to look into her eyes. The longer he rubbed her face, the faster his pulse beat.
Finally, he had to rinse the cloth because it was covered in whatever she had spread over her face. In silence he rinsed it and returned to a task that was ever so pleasant, slowly stroking her face free of smudges. Besides the fabulous eyes, she had a slightly upturned nose, full pouty lips and prominent cheekbones.
She yanked the cloth from his hand. “I can wash my own face,” she snapped and turned to wash over the kitchen sink. She slanted him a look. “If you’ll tell me where the bathroom is, I’ll wash in there.”
“You’re fine where you are,” he said, not giving a rip about the sink and interested in the smooth, rosy skin beginning to show.
As she shook water off her hands, he handed her a clean towel, and she scrubbed with it vigorously, something he had never once seen a woman do.
Big gray eyes peeped at him over the towel, and he wondered if he should get ready to dodge her fist again, but she merely folded the towel.
Reaching out, he pulled the cap off her head. When long, slightly curly auburn locks spilled out, he drew a swift breath. Unruly, silken strands curled around her face. From what little he already knew, she was fiery, impetuous and fearless.
“You want anything to eat or drink?”
“No, thank you,” she replied with disdain.
“Come here,” he said, taking her wrist again and leading her through the kitchen, down the hall, into the spacious family room. He led her to a wide, brown leather couch that faced a large brick hearth. With a little tug he got her to sit down and he faced her, releasing her wrist. “Now, why were you slashing Dorian’s tires? What’s going on between the two of you?”
Two
Meredith Silver thrust out her chin stubbornly. “I don’t have to answer any of your questions,” she snapped. No man should look so sinfully handsome. He had black curly hair that he wore long, and it gave him a wild, dangerous look. His features were slightly rugged with a strong jaw, prominent cheekbones and straight nose. It was his thick lashes and blue-green eyes that had stopped her in her tracks in the kitchen.
Meredith wished she hadn’t stood there like a starstruck teen looking at a movie idol, because she suspected Jason Windover drew women the way flowers drew bees.
She glanced beyond him to study the windows. This was no fortress, although he had turned off an alarm system when they entered. She knew how to hot-wire a car, and later tonight she was getting out of this house and away from this man who was becoming a big interference in her life.
“I can still call the sheriff and have you locked up. This is a small town and most of us know each other pretty well. He can come up with some charges to hold you in a cell for a while.”
Her mind raced. She knew lawyers because she had solved computer problems for various ones, but not recently and she had never made lasting friendships with any of them. She didn’t know a single lawyer to call for help. Besides, compelling bedroom eyes were staring at her, an invisible push to get her talking.
“I’ve been trying to find Dorian Brady. Now I’ve found him and he’s telling everyone that I’m crazy and that everything I’m saying about him is a lie.”
“Well, is it or not?”
“I’m telling the truth, but he’s your friend and your good-ol’-boy fellow club member. Y’all are a bunch of snooty male chauvinists, and I know you’ll believe him over me, so what’s the point in even discussing this with you?” she said, becoming more annoyed as she talked because a twinkle had come into his eyes.
“What’s the point in slashing his tires?”
“I just want him to know that I’m here. That I’m in his life and I’m not going to go away. I want to cause that man some grief.”
“He knows you’re in his life, and you are causing him a little grief. But I’ll tell you what, all those good-ol’-boy male chauvinists have voted that I’m to keep you out of everybody else’s hair, so that’s just what I’m going to do. Tonight, you can just stay here under my roof until you simmer down. And tomorrow you can go back to wherever you came from.”
“That’s what you think, mister.”
“Jason is the name, remember?”
“Mister is sufficient. We’re not going to be friends.”
“Now that’s another challenge you’ve just flung at me,” he drawled, and she definitely saw the twinkle in his eyes that time.
Thrusting out her jaw, she leaned closer to him. “I will never be friends with a man like you, buster!”
He looked as if he was making an effort not to laugh out loud. He leaned close. “Why not, Meredith?”
Oh, my! She was going to have to watch it around this one. He was sexy and too handsome and his voice sent shivers skittering around inside her. And those bedroom eyes of his! She moved back and drew herself up. “I’m sure most women just melt when you bat your eyes at them, but I’m not melting, nor will I. I—”
“Challenge number three,” he stated, this time speaking in a slow drawl and looking at her with a speculative gleam in his eyes that made her draw a swift breath.
“I’m not flinging sexy challenges at you. I’m telling you. You probably can’t believe that a female in this whole big state of Texas is immune to your charm.”
“Darlin’,” he drawled in a tone that did curl her toes and sent a flash of heat that threatened to melt her, “I haven’t even begun to turn on any charm. Knocking the wind out of me doesn’t exactly draw out the best aspects of my personality.”
“You attacked me.”
“I stopped a vandal from escaping,” he reminded her. He took her wrist again. His brows arched. “Your pulse is racing, Meredith.”
She glared at him while crimson flooded her cheeks. “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s fright.”
“You—afraid?”
“There’s good reason to be,” she snapped, pointing at her scraped face and annoyed that her pulse was reacting to him in a wild, uncontrollable manner.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said, and to her surprise, he sounded truly contrite. “Come on. Let’s get something to drink. I definitely want a drink.”
“I’ll come without you holding my hand,” she said, attempting to yank free.
“I think I want to keep one hand under control. You have a wicked punch there. Besides, I don’t want you heaving one of the family heirlooms at me and breaking some favorite vase.”
“I wouldn’t think of it.”
“Not much you wouldn’t.”
He was tall, broad-shouldered and a very sexy male. Having him hold her wrist made her nervous, even though his grip was light. When she had tried to get free, he had held her without effort, but she knew that wasn’t what bothered her. It was the physical contact with him, however slight, that set her pulse racing.
Maybe if she humored him until he locked her in a room—and she was certain that’s exactly what he would do sooner or later—then she could try to escape. Once they were in the kitchen, he released her wrist. While he pulled a cold beer out of the refrigerator, Meredith studied the windows and latches, which looked quite ordinary. And she had watched when he had turned off his alarm, so she could remember the series of numbers he had punched in. She was certain Jason wouldn’t think she’d try to escape, especially since they were so far from town. He had left his pickup near the back door and if she could get outside to his pickup, she would be on her way.
“Want some pop?”
“I am not drinking or eating with you.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, and turned to open the bottle of beer. They returned to the sofa where he sat too close for comfort. She could detect his aftershave, see the faint dark stubble on his jaw.
He set his beer on a coaster on the large cherrywood table standing in front of the sofa. He pulled off a boot and set it aside and then pulled off the other one. “We might as well get comfortable.”
She was half tempted to say she wanted to go to jail, but his house was cozy and there weren’t any bars on the windows and she stood a far better chance of escaping from this ornery Texan than she would from a jail.
“Now tell me why you want to cause Dorian grief.”
“He’s a wicked man. But I know you don’t believe a word I’m saying because he’s in your good-ol’-boy group.”
“Let me decide that.”
“One of my sisters was engaged to him.”
“He denies that. Do you have any proof?”
“Proof of their engagement? No, I don’t.”
“Did he give her a ring?”
“He told her that he was having his grandmother’s diamond ring reset. He kept putting off why it wasn’t ready and at the time, he sounded convincing. He can be charming and he’s good-looking and he’s clever. Everything sounded logical, so I didn’t doubt what my sister was telling me. Twice I had dinner with them, and I had him at our house,” she said. As Merry talked, she had to constantly gaze into those sexy eyes and she could hear how lame her story sounded. There wasn’t a flicker of emotion in Jason’s expression, so she had no idea what he was thinking.
“Our house? Are you married?”
“No, I’m not. I live in an apartment in Dallas, but I go home often to the house where I grew up. My mom is a Dallas news anchor and I grew up in Dallas.”
“Another well-known family member.” He tilted his head to study her. “Your mom isn’t Serena Dunstan, is she?”
“Yes, she is. Her real name is Therese Silver, but Serena Dunstan is her professional name. How did you guess?”
“She’s the right age and she’s done some controversial reporting—and won awards. Hank Silver, Serena Dunstan—you’re from a whole family of feisty daredevils.”
“My sister Holly isn’t. She’s a little on the shy side.”
“I would have to see it to believe it,” he remarked dryly.
“Mom’s certainly more well-known than my brother. I’m really close to my three younger sisters, so I’m at our house most of the time. My youngest sister, Claudia, is in high school now, but she graduates this spring.”
“I hope she’s not the one Dorian was supposedly engaged to.”
“It isn’t supposedly,” Merry said darkly, knowing he was friends with the creep and wasn’t going to believe a word she said. “Dorian was engaged to Holly, who finished college early and has a great job as an engineer.”
“Do you have pictures of them together?”
“No, I don’t,” Merry answered flatly, realizing how flimsy her accusations were beginning to sound up against Jason’s practical questions. “There was always a reason why Dorian did or did not do something. When I wanted to take their pictures, he’d put me off and then we’d forget all about it.” The more she talked, the more her anger built again. “I thought Dorian just decided all of a sudden to dump her, but now that you’re asking all these questions—reasonable questions—he must have planned to do this from the very start. She really was in love with him,” Merry said, remembering Holly sobbing and shaking and refusing to eat far too many times. For the past few months she had watched her sister lose weight steadily.
“Holly believed Dorian and was taken in by him. She had bought a wedding dress—”
“No ring, but she bought a dress?” Jason asked doubtfully, as if Holly were lost in fantasies.
“I can’t tell you how believable he made it all sound.”
While blue-green eyes studied her, she wondered what was running through the lanky Texan’s mind.
“Men can be very convincing when they want to. Even in the biggest of lies,” she added.
A shuttered look altered Jason’s expression slightly. “I don’t think you should limit that to men,” he said in a cynical tone that surprised her.
“I can’t believe any woman ever hurt you. I’ll bet you draw them like flies to honey.”
The twinkle returned to his eyes. “Whatever makes you think that?” he asked with great innocence.
“Stop fishing for compliments! You know you’re a good-looking and sexy stud.”
“Son-of-a-gun, darlin’,” he drawled. “You will turn my head. So you think I’m a sexy stud?” The words rolled out like soft velvet sliding across her skin, and Meredith wished she hadn’t said anything. When would she learn just to keep quiet? But then, how could she sit in silence when he was looking at her with an eagle-eyed intentness that made her nervous and made her want to chatter?
“Why don’t we go out to dinner tomorrow night? I can drive to Dallas,” he said.
“Thank you, but I have other plans. And I’m not leaving Royal.”
“You have friends here in Royal?”
“No, I don’t know anyone except Dorian, and now you. I’m staying right here in Royal. You can’t make me leave town.”
“You plan to slash Dorian’s tires again?”
“No, I won’t,” she said, annoyed with him and trying to ignore the little nagging voice inside that wanted to accept his offer of a dinner date. “I wouldn’t tell you anyway, but I don’t have other plans. I just don’t care to go to dinner.”
He grinned, a full-fledged, heart-stopping grin with perfect white teeth, and she tried to catch her breath and not stare. With an effort she shifted her gaze to her fingers laced together in her lap. She had just turned down a date with that grin. Just sitting there doing nothing, the man was handsome, but when he smiled, he was to-die-for gorgeous. His smile could melt the coldest heart. She just knew it had better not melt hers. And she knew he had an ulterior motive in asking her to dinner because he was trying every which way to learn her plans about Dorian and to keep her away from him.
“I’m sure you’re unaccustomed to any female turning down an offer of a date with you, but I’m not interested.”
“Well, in that case, we’ll sit right here at my house. You can go with me tomorrow to pick out a computer and we’ll have dinner at home and you can help me set up a new computer—”
“You’re kidnapping me!”
“No, I’m not. You’re free to go. You want to leave, I’ll take you straight to the sheriff. After all, I caught you in a criminal act.”
She glared at him. “I don’t want to go to jail. I’ll think about it tomorrow.”
“I wouldn’t want to go to jail, either. My house is far more comfortable, and I’m better company that any of those deputies and you can have something to eat or drink whenever you want.” He gave her a speculative look. “You know, men have been breaking women’s hearts and vice-versa since the beginning of time. Your sister got jilted by a low-down lying rascal—as you would say—but that happens. When it does, you pick up and go on with life.”
She bristled. “How easy that is for you to say! You’re a playboy and I’m sure you’re incredibly experienced at breaking hearts. I’ll bet you’ve left a path strewn with them back to when you were just out of elementary school.”
“Grade school? I don’t think so!” he said and rewarded her with another fabulous grin.
“And I’ll bet no female has ever broken your heart. So don’t even talk to me about how unimportant a broken heart is!”
He tilted his head. “Another swift punch—somewhat undeserved, I think. I’ve always made it clear that I’m not a marrying man. I’m not into commitment and I always state that up front. I have never been engaged to anyone and never hinted at engagement. So don’t lump me in with broken promises of engagement. There’s a difference. Anyone who dates me knows exactly how I feel about marriage. I’m very open about it. Most of the women I date feel just the way I do.”
“Why aren’t you a marrying man, if I may ask?”
Again, she caught that brief shuttered look and a muscle working in his jaw. He had some touchy point, something that had happened to him that had soured him on marriage.
“My brothers have had disastrous marriages that have torn apart their lives and hurt their children. I don’t ever want to go through that.”
She suspected there was more to the story than he was telling her, but they were little more than strangers and she could understand why he would be reluctant to tell her about himself. As he talked, he unbuttoned his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. She didn’t think he was aware of what he was doing, but she was certainly aware of the slight glimpse of a tanned, well-sculpted chest.
“Those sweats may be rather warm for this time of year. Want something more comfortable?”
“That would be nice,” she said and he stood, reaching down to take her wrist.
“You don’t have to hold me.”
“Only your wrist. I can keep up with you better this way,” he answered lightly, but it made her stand closer to him than was comfortable. He had to be a couple of inches over six feet tall. The top of her head reached his shoulder and she felt as if tiny currents of electricity were jabbing her when she was close to him. The prickly awareness put her on edge because it was so uncustomary for her. What was it about him that caused the sparks? Surely not just his movie-star looks. She shouldn’t be susceptible to bedroom eyes and a high-wattage grin. Something about him had her heart skipping way too fast and she could just imagine the broken hearts he had in his past.
They entered a large hallway decorated with Western art and he directed her back across the kitchen to another hallway. “The east wing of the house has spare bedrooms, my office and a workout room. We don’t use these bedrooms unless everyone is home.”
“Who is everyone?”
“My brothers and their families. They’ve remarried and have kids. We spend a lot of time here,” he said switching on lights and she entered another large, comfortable room with leather-upholstered furniture. A pool table was in the center of the room with a Ping-Pong table in a far corner and an immense stone fireplace along one wall. A wide-screen television stood at one end and one wall was lined with shelves filled with books. Two large gun racks were against another wall with an antique sword mounted over the fireplace.
“I can see why. You have everything you need here at home.”
“Not quite,” he drawled, and she knew he was referring to a woman companion.
“Don’t you get lonesome here?” The moment she asked, she knew it was a ridiculous question, and she answered before he could. “I know you don’t get lonesome anywhere. I’m sure I’m keeping you from some woman’s company tonight, and I’ll bet she’s quite unhappy about it.”
“No, I told you. There’s no one in my life right now.”
“If there’s not, she must be only a day away. I can’t imagine you going ten minutes without a woman close at hand.”
“Tonight I’ve got you, darlin’,” he drawled lightly, and she knew he was teasing her.
“And I know full well you didn’t want me.”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just assigned to keep you out of trouble.”
“To keep me away from Dorian is the truth. You can’t watch me forever.”
“Nope, I surely can’t, but for tonight I can do my assignment.”
She was acutely aware of his fingers still circling her wrist. Moving close at her side, he led her to another large room where he switched on a light. “Here’s my office.”
“What a beautiful desk.” When she wriggled her arm, he released her. As soon as he did, she crossed the room to look closer at the satinwood-and-ebony desk. “This looks old.”
“It is. My grandfather brought it home from Europe on one of his travels. I’ve tried to add some antiques to this home since I’ve had the house.”
“This is a beautiful desk,” she said, running her fingers along the smooth wood. Antique glass-fronted cases held books, but before she could read the titles, he took her arm lightly and led her back through the kitchen toward the center of the house and the west wing. “We’ll be staying in this end of the house.”
While they sauntered down the hall, Meredith considered escape. Maybe if he drank a few more beers, he would sleep dead to the world and her escape would be even easier.
“I’m surprised you don’t keep a dog out here.”
“There are several dogs on the ranch, but they’re down at the bunkhouse with the men.”
“Don’t tell me dogs don’t like you.”
He glanced at her with amusement in his eyes again. “I get along fine with the dogs. They’re just shut in the bunkhouse at the moment. Want me to get one of them up here?”
“Heavens, no! I just found it unusual to be out in the country and not see a dog.”