Her Sweet Talkin' Man. Myrna Mackenzie

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Her Sweet Talkin' Man - Myrna Mackenzie


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sauntered toward the elevator, his long legs taking him there ahead of her.

      “Allow me to get that for you, darlin”’ he said, stepping forward to push the elevator button. “Looks like your hands are full.”

      The lady stopped in her tracks. She had reached out for the button at the same moment he had, and she looked down at his hand, which was just over her own. Her skin nearly met his. He could feel her warmth. He could feel something else radiating from her. Awareness?

      “Thank you, sir,” she said. “But I think you’re mistaken about my inability to handle such a simple task. After all, my hands aren’t nearly full. I’m only carrying a clipboard. And I’m truly sorry, but I don’t ever answer to the name darlin’.”

      He raised a brow because, after all, she had just answered.

      A slight blush turned her cheeks an endearing rose as she realized her mistake. And did he say that her eyes held a trace of innocence? Well, yes, they did, but they could also flash intense green sparks when she was perturbed. And she appeared to be pretty darn perturbed right now.

      Ace couldn’t help smiling at the thought—and he couldn’t help being intrigued. That blush and those eyes told him she hadn’t had much experience with men like him, who blatantly spoke their minds or didn’t bother hiding their interest. But she didn’t back away. Her hair swung back when she dared to look up and stare him straight into his eyes. That was fortunate for him, since the movement exposed a neck that was long and pretty and pale. It made him dream of nibbling that tender spot just beneath her ear to see if he could make her sigh and gasp.

      His entire body responded to the thought, an overly intense reaction that gave him pause.

      Careful, buddy, he warned himself. Easy. She hadn’t revealed her skin on purpose and would no doubt be appalled if she knew that the neat little collar of her suit made him think of peeling back the lapels and letting his fingers brush her flesh. She was obviously a by-the-book, never-break-the-rules kind of lady and he was a prowling alley cat, a man who never, ever touched a woman who hadn’t been born a little wild and who liked things that way. Seeing how she was, however, he should probably just apologize and call the game off.

      “You’re right. I misspoke. Excuse me,” he said as the elderly couple and the elevator arrived and he motioned everyone in ahead of him with a slight bow. But then he stepped in behind the redhead, and the orange-blossom scent of her slipped in and caught him unawares. Nothing like the enticing scent of a lovely woman to play havoc with a man’s good intentions.

      He moved in just a touch closer to her than was proper. “I’ll let you push this button if it makes you feel better,” he murmured, gazing into her eyes.

      Those eyes blinked. “Excuse me?” She turned a delicious shade of pink.

      The old man chuckled. His wife smiled but shook her head at Ace as if to reprimand him for his manners.

      “I need to get off at the main floor, darlin’,” he directed, his lips twitching as he tried to hold back his smile. His hazel-eyed lady was clearly struggling to prove to the world that she was terribly sophisticated and dignified. He wouldn’t spoil her illusions and announce that he’d seen she was still untutored in the ways of the wild.

      Anyone could see that, he thought as she pushed the button for him and then one for the other couple. That prim little telltale voice might have been silent as the elevator descended, but when the doors opened at the next floor and the elderly couple exited, his lady clearly showed signs of common sense and a healthy dose of wariness. She moved to the corner and glanced up at him nervously.

      Instantly Ace felt ashamed to know that he was the cause of her fear. He’d teased her earlier because he’d wanted to see what happened to her eyes when her emotions ran away with her. Still, frightening or hurting a woman in any way was just about the lowest thing a man could do.

      He stepped away, leaned back against the corner farthest from her and crossed his arms to show her that he wasn’t going to grab her. “You were right to correct my bad manners,” he said. “I apologize. We’re strangers, and you’re smart not to have anything to do with anyone you haven’t been properly introduced to.”

      Who in hell in Mission Creek, Texas, would introduce him to anyone? No one knew who he was.

      Once they did discover his identity and what kind of man he really was, they sure as Satan weren’t going to welcome him, much less begin introducing him to the women of the community.

      The redheaded beauty looked suddenly chagrinned.

      “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re probably here for the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the new maternity ward. You’re a guest, and you should be treated as such.”

      She didn’t look any more at ease with him than she had, but he finally realized that she was wearing some sort of hospital badge. She worked here and felt she had to put up with whatever he dished out. Now that she’d decided he had a legitimate reason for being here, she felt that she had to be kind to him, even to apologize when he had been in the wrong. Sudden fierce anger surged through Ace. Anger at himself for putting her in a position where she felt she had to be gracious to a man who had obviously invaded her comfort zone. Ironic. He knew better than anyone that women often bore the brunt of men’s mistakes, yet here he was making a mistake and dumping the blame on his lovely victim. Hell, he was the one in the wrong. He was here for the ribbon-cutting ceremony, but his intentions were anything but innocent.

      He shook his head and held up one hand to stop her from humbling herself before him any more.

      “Ma’am,” he said, dredging up a trace of charm and humor to at least try to put her at ease. “You were right not to want to talk to me. I’ve got a reputation as a flirt and an opportunistic rover. And a woman these days can never be too careful. Just keep doing what you’re doing. It’s the smartest way to be.”

      There. He could almost feel her relaxing.

      For some reason that didn’t make him feel good, because he realized that his words were true. A woman couldn’t be too careful. If a man could put her at ease just with a few well-chosen words, then some no-good tomcat could take advantage of her, catch her off guard. But…well, heck, he couldn’t be the guardian of the world. He wasn’t even going to be in Mission Creek that long. Just long enough to kick up some dust, leave an impression and settle an old score. This woman, whoever she was, probably had a husband who could look after her. Besides, this slowpoke of an elevator was almost to the right floor, the main level.

      Ace stood straighter, readying himself to get off and meet whatever was to come in the next few hours.

      He stared up at the numbers on the digital readout.

      Nothing happened.

      Silence settled over the car.

      The woman looked up anxiously at the numbers, which still didn’t appear to be doing anything.

      And then the silence seemed to get deeper. The soft creaking of the car ceased entirely. The lights flickered and then held.

      But the car didn’t buck up and continue on its way. There were no sounds of movement. There was just a lot of quiet and waiting. In the void of anything else, Ace could hear the beauty’s breathing. He looked at her and saw her body stiffen. She stared up at the floor numbers as if willing them to move.

      “I…I think we may be stuck.” Her soft voice trembled slightly. She pushed the button for the floor, then pushed it again. And again.

      Nothing happened.

      “Oh, no.” She turned frightened eyes to Ace. She licked her lips nervously. All her cool facade of moments before drained away. “I…I think…” she began, and then stopped as if her mind was a jumble, as if she was too terrified to speak.

      “Shh,” he whispered. “It’s all right. I’m sure things will get moving soon.” Although he didn’t know anything of the sort.

      No matter.


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