Baily's Irish Dream: Baily's Irish Dream / Czech Mate. Stephanie Doyle

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Baily's Irish Dream: Baily's Irish Dream / Czech Mate - Stephanie  Doyle


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he’d tried to walk out on her.

      And she’d discovered that she did miss him. That is, she missed the opportunity to punch him right in the nose. So she’d walked out on him first.

      Now she sat on her bed, the one that was only a foot away from his bed, and sulked. She threw in a few pouts and sighs every now and again for good measure. But she didn’t say a word. He was lying back on his bed, seemingly oblivious to her irritation.

      “Uh-hh-hh,” she sighed once more, this time so audibly that he couldn’t miss it. She waited for his reaction.

      Slump. A large white puffy mass hit her square in the face. For a moment she was too stunned to think. Then it hit her. Literally. Why that arrogant, no good, stinking, rotten, conniving…jerk! No, wait. Bastard! He’d just thrown his pillow at her.

      Taking the weapon in hand, Baily stood over him astounded that he had the nerve to close his eyes. Didn’t he know she would retaliate? She poised the pillow high above her head in attack position ready to bring it down on his face…hard.

      It was as the pillow was on the way down that she realized she had made a tactical error. She’d been suckered into a trap. The most obvious trick in the book. The play dead routine. After having used the same ruse on her brothers a multitude of times, she should have been adept at spotting it herself.

      In an instant Daniel’s eyes were open. His hands sprung up and captured her wrists. Stopping the attack wasn’t enough, however. He had to disarm her before he could truly consider himself safe. Keeping a firm grip on her wrists, Daniel pulled her toward him while at the same time rolling so that her natural momentum threw her down next to him on the bed. In a flash he rolled on top of her, pinning her arms high above her head. A quick glimpse confirmed she still had the pillow.

      Panting with sudden exertion and blushing with humiliation at having been so easily duped, Baily confronted her conqueror. That was her second mistake. Hazel eyes loomed above her. Their color was extraordinary. But no more so than the man to whom they belonged. His breath blew in little puffs on her mouth. An odd expression suddenly crossed his face. It must have just occurred to him—the predicament he had put them in.

      Daniel looked down at his captive. He’d been prepared to taunt his victory over her, but once he saw her eyes and dove into those green depths, he was helpless to stop the rush of desire that crashed over him. Red tresses shot like flames from her head to decorate the whiteness of the pillow beneath her. They demanded to be caressed. Freckles called to him for a kiss, each one individually.

      “Red…” he whispered. Then, “Red?”

      “Daniel?” Baily replied, not knowing what else to do. Her neck arched ever so slightly, bringing his lips into closer contact. He lowered his head and the touch of his lips was like the brush of a feather across her own.

      “Meow!” Theodora chose that moment to launch an attack on Daniel’s back. She used her front paws to scrape at his back through his cotton shirt. Apparently, she didn’t like the idea of anyone pouncing on her mistress—other than herself, of course. “Me-ow!” she roared furiously.

      “Miss Roosevelt! Really,” Baily scolded, although she didn’t know whether she was grateful, angry, or frustrated with her cat’s interference. She’d lay odds on frustrated.

      With a groan, Daniel slowly rolled to his side to give the cat a chance to jump. She did and went along her merry way now that her mistress was out of trouble.

      “What just happened?” Daniel asked.

      “How about dinner?” Baily suggested, completely ignoring his question. Her voice was tense and high-pitched. She bounced off the bed and ran to the bathroom. Her only hope was that she didn’t trip in her urgency. “I’m starved. Why don’t you check the hotel guide for a restaurant,” she called out from the other room.

      “Red…” Daniel began, uncertain of what to say. Perhaps dinner was the best idea. They had the whole night to talk about the attraction that had sprouted between them. The whole long night in the same room with their beds mere inches apart. Yes, dinner for now. Later…Well, who knew what the night would bring. He was, however, going to have to do something about that cat. One pussycat in his bed was enough.

      In a smooth motion Daniel leapt off the bed and waited for Red to finish up in the bathroom. He felt like a free-loader at that moment. She’d provided him with transportation, shelter, and now she was going to feed him. He was a wealthy man and an old-fashioned one. It wasn’t his style to let any woman pick up the tab. What if she demanded sexual favors in return for feeding him?

      Hot damn.

      He chuckled and told himself that tomorrow would be soon enough to pick up some cash.

      Bruce. Daniel needed to call him now if he was going to be able to get his money by tomorrow. The best solution would be to have him wire the money to their next pit stop. Daniel searched his memory for Bruce’s home number then realized that Bruce was more than likely still at the office working on the bid for the Northern California Timber Company.

      Red walked out of the bathroom, her hair still a little mussed, although it tended to do that naturally, and her cheeks a little redder than normal. Other than that she appeared to be unscathed from their near miss.

      Baily had taken more deep breaths than she could count, yet she still hadn’t managed to slow her pounding heart. She could only hope that he couldn’t actually see her heart pulsing through the T-shirt she wore. That was impossible. Wasn’t it? She waited for him to ask again about what had happened on the bed. This time she was prepared with an answer.

      It was a natural reaction after all the tension they had been through that day. They were both looking for release after having fought for so long. Boy, are you looking for release, a little voice in her head gibed.

      Stop that, her conscience warned.

      That wasn’t part of the answer, Baily reasoned. They were two adults. Nothing happened. Nothing could happen since she was on her way to be with Harry and Daniel was eventually going to be returning to Seattle. Baily was not a one-night-stand kind of girl. Or a one-trip-stand kind of girl, for that matter. That was why when he asked where they were headed tomorrow, Baily naturally assumed he was on another topic.

      “Well, we are not headed to bed!” she stated indignantly.

      Daniel laughed until his sides hurt. Which in turn only served to make Baily’s skin flush from blushing pink to infuriated purple. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry,” he said between gasps. “It’s just that you looked so serious.”

      “I am serious.” She stomped her foot to prove it.

      “I think the lady is doth protesting too much.”

      “You’re lousy at quoting Shakespeare,” she informed him with a sneer. “If you didn’t mean what I thought you meant, then what did you mean?”

      Daniel had to think about that. She had this way of talking that twisted his mind into knots. He was beginning to think she did it on purpose. “I meant, where is our destination tomorrow? I’m going to call my vice president and have him wire me some money. I’ll have him wire it to our next stop so it will be there when we get there rather than wait around here all morning.”

      “Custer.”

      “Are we back on the dinner subject?”

      Baily closed her eyes. “Not custard. Custer. Custer is where we are headed. It’s in South Dakota not too far from Rapid City.”

      “Can’t we just go to Rapid City? It’s larger, and we’d be more likely to find a Western Union office.” It was a logical suggestion, but Red was shaking her head and looking at him as if he were insane. “Stop shaking your head. Why can’t we go to Rapid City?”

      “Because then we would miss Mount Rushmore, silly. You know, the presidents…Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln and—”

      “Roosevelt,”


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