Page 5 of Too Hot To Handle

„Nowhere. I don’t have one.“

„Aren’t you old enough to drive?“

Tory’s hair flashed in the sun as she turned toward Reever quickly, hardly believing what she had heard. A single glance told her that Reever was serious. „I’ll be twenty-one this summer,“ she said tightly.

„Really?“ he asked, amusement and relief deepening his voice. He had hated like hell being aroused by someone who appeared as young as Tory. He had always preferred his partners to be as experienced as he was.

Mentally Tory counted to ten and then to twenty. She didn’t need Reever’s amused glance to remind her that her body wasn’t up to the mark for sexy blondes. Most of the time she didn’t mind. After all, she didn’t want to look like a whacking great milk cow when she dove off the platform. Yet it irritated her unreasonably to know that a man with the raw masculine appeal of Ethan Reever thought of her as a little girl.

„If you didn’t drive, how did you get to the ranch?“ he asked. His tone was deep, almost lazy, and the steely shade of his eyes warmed as he looked from the delicate curve of Tory’s neck to her mouth and remembered how the full bow of her lips had looked when they had parted in silent invitation.

„I came in on the mail truck,“ she said curtly.

„Where are you meeting Melly for the return trip?“

„Melly?“

„The mail ma’am,“ said Reever, grinning.

„Oh. Will she be by later on?“

With a feeling of angry disbelief, Reever realized that Tory had not only walked the miles from the ranch house to the county road, but that she had planned to walk the rest of the way to Massacre Creek as well. His hand shot out and he grabbed her arm, stopping her right in her tracks.

„Do you have any idea how far it is to town?” he asked curtly.

„What time is it?“

He answered automatically, frowning. „About one o’clock.“

„Then it’s about twelve miles to town from here.“

The look that passed over Reever’s face was indescribable. „Are you crazy?“

„No,“ she said flatly, meeting his eyes.

What Tory didn’t say was that she was hungry, thirsty to the point of spitting cotton and the burning of her raw hands was competing with the throbbing of her knee. She wouldn’t say a word about any of it, either. She would quite cheerfully crawl the rest of the way into town rather than whine to the hard-faced cowboy who had taken one look at her, decided she was useless in every possible way and dismissed her with a contempt that still stung.

„Then you’re a fool,“ Reever said harshly. „Or maybe you like swinging your ass down a public highway, just asking for it?“

„Asking!”Tory’s eyes narrowed as her temper flashed. „You arrogant son of Satan!“ she hissed, appalled at herself even as the words escaped her lips. She had taken far worse insults from her coaches, but none of them had been able to set off her temper like Ethan Reever. „I walked down that damned road because there was no other way for me to get into town!“

„If you had told me – “ began Reever.

„When?“ she interrupted sweetly. „Before or after you turned down my imagined offer of prostitution?“

Reever muttered a few savage words under his breath. Tory didn’t bother to listen. She simply turned and marched toward the fence, her back as straight as the line of her mouth. She had heard all she wanted to and then some. It was bad enough to be taken advantage of by a carload of foulmouthed jerks. To be accused of asking for that kind of abuse simply because she was too poor to afford her own car made her furious.

„The next bus won’t get to Massacre Creek for three days,“ said Reever matter-of-factly, catching up to Tory with ease.

She shrugged. Three days, three hours, three weeks. It didn’t matter because she didn’t have money for a ticket yet. She hoped that the Sunup Caf6 needed a cook or waitress, a dishwasher or someone to clean out the grease trap over the stove. Whatever. She wasn’t fussy about honest work.

Reever watched Tory from the corner of his eye.

For the first time he saw past the fact that she was female, young and able to arouse his temper and his body with maddening ease. He saw that her thick blond hair was cut simply and that the sun-streaked effect, like her tan, was natural rather than purchased at an expensive salon or resort. She wore no jewelry – no necklace, no bracelet, not even an inexpensive silver ring. The T-shirt she had on was faded and baggy. The slacks were the same and frayed at the cuffs. Her tennis shoes had more holes than canvas and sported no logo from one of the makers of trendy, expensive leisure shoes.

„Wait,“ Reever said, catching Tory’s arm again. His voice was rough, but his hand was gentle on her arm. He had been poor long enough in his youth to recognize the signs. „I’ll have one of my men drive you into town.“

Tory stared at Reever, her surprise plain. Quite clearly she hadn’t expected any help from him.