Maverick / The Playboy's Passionate Pursuit. Emilie Rose
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of her mouth. Darn him, why did he have to be so attractive? “I have clothes suitable for mountain terrain, including a ski jacket neatly packed in my backpack, along with other necessities. My sleeping bag is the best available and waterproof. I lay it on a nearly weightless ground sheet. Now are there any other questions?”
“As a matter of fact, there are,” he said. “What about food? Have you thought of that?”
This time she gave him a droll look. “Of course I have, but I didn’t bring much with me. I figured we could get what we needed here in Durango.”
He nodded. “You figured correctly.” He pushed the chair back and stood. “Let’s get lunch. We’ll take my truck.”
“Wait a minute,” she protested while standing and following him from the kitchen. “Who said anything about lunch?”
“I just did.” He shot a glance at the big red-rimmed clock on one wall. “It’s nearly one. I’m hungry for something more substantive than a scone. Aren’t you?”
“Well, yes,” she admitted reluctantly, because she was feeling too attracted to the arrogant Neanderthal. “Why not take separate vehicles?”
Tanner paused, holding open the door for her. “You know your way around Durango?”
She had never even been to Durango, Colorado, before. “Well, no, but—” She was about to mention the restaurant in her hotel, but that’s as far as she got before he cut her off.
“That’s what I thought. We’ll take my truck.”
Bri had no intention of doing so. She shook her head. “I want to go to the hotel and freshen up a bit. Give me directions. I’ll meet you at the restaurant in a half hour.”
The restaurant Tanner had directed her to was done in Western decor, not honky-tonk but with style and ambience. Now, in early afternoon, there were few patrons, so the place was quiet.
“This is very nice,” she said to Tanner, seating herself in the chair the host held for her. She smiled at the man. “Thank you.”
“Wait till you’ve tasted the food,” Tanner said.
She looked over the long list of dishes offered on the menu. Her glance halted at shrimp and pasta in a light herb dressing. On the spot, she dumped the idea of her normal luncheon salad.
She placed her order when the waitress came, then looked up at Tanner. She felt certain he would order red meat, like a rare steak. He surprised her. A talent he seemingly had in abundance.
“I’ll have the pasta, as well, but with chicken.”
The server no sooner turned away when a young woman came to an abrupt stop at their table. She was blond, petite and more than pretty. Her big blue eyes sparkled with surprised pleasure. Her teeth gleamed in a brilliant yet sensuous smile.
“Tanner, honey!” Miss Sunshine exclaimed, moving into his arms when Tanner stood. “I haven’t seen you in ages. What have you been up to?”
For some inexplicable reason, everything about the young woman annoyed Bri, from her cooing voice to the possessive way her arms curled around his neck. For a few seconds Bri was even more annoyed at the way Tanner smiled down at the small woman clinging to him. Her annoyance fled with his drawled response.
“Well, Candy, I’m up to the same six feet four inches I was at the last time I saw you… ‘ages’ ago. What has it been—all of a week or two?”
Somehow Bri contained the laughter bubbling up inside her at his reply. And her name! Candy. It certainly fit, all right. She was arm candy for hungry males.
The thought sobered Bri. Was Tanner one of the hungry males? She was so startled, so bothered by the very idea of Tanner being that predictable, she almost missed him setting the woman from him and turning to her. She quickly rose.
“Brianna, I’d like you to meet Candy Saunders. She’s from back east, too—”
“The Hamptons,” Candy was quick to arrogantly insert, rudely cutting Tanner off. All sweetness and light were gone, her eyes and smile calculating as she swept a dismissive glance over Bri.
Looking bored, Tanner rolled his eyes at Bri, a wry smile twitching the corners of his mouth. “Candy of the Hamptons, meet Brianna Stewart of Pennsylvania.”
Candy gave a delicate sniff, obviously not impressed. “How nice. Are you visiting someone here in Durango?” She arched one perfect bleached eyebrow. “One of Tanner’s friends, perhaps?”
Bri didn’t know whether to laugh or slug the overbearing woman. She did neither, of course. Instead she answered drily, “No, I’m not visiting. I have business with Mr. Wolfe.”
“Really?” Both eyebrows went up.
“Yeah, really,” Tanner said, now sounding as bored as he looked. “If you’ll excuse us?” He indicated a table toward the back. “I think your friend is getting impatient for you to join him.”
Candy turned back to him, instantly changing to Miss Sunshine again. “Yes, of course, darlin’,” she cooed, raising a small hand to lightly drag her dagger nails down his face. “Toodles,” she said, drawing her hand away and wiggling her scarlet-tipped fingers at him. “Call me.” Without so much as a glance at Bri, she sashayed away.
“Toodles?” Battling another bubble of laughter sparked by the drama queen, Bri resumed her seat just as the server approached the table with their meals.
“That’s Candy,” he said, shrugging.
Yes, Bri mused, but did he like candy? Mentally dismissing the oddly disturbing idea, she asked, “A good friend of yours?” The question was out before she could stop herself. Dammit, she didn’t give a rip either way…did she?
Tanner saved her from her self-condemnation. “No.” He shook his head, setting his long waves rippling, brushing his shoulders. “She’s a bit of an airhead, I’m afraid, and calls every man ‘darlin” in that cloyingly sweet voice.” He shrugged. “But she can be polite and even amusing at times.”
“I see.” Bri hid a frown of dissatisfaction by lowering her head to inhale the aroma wafting from the steaming plate the server set in front of her.
The food was delicious. The conversation, which didn’t include candy of any sort, ranged from favorite foods to favorite movies to general likes and dislikes. Bri relaxed, let her guard down.
It was a mistake she rarely made.
On leaving the restaurant, feeling mellow—too mellow—she soon realized she had been led down the conversational garden path, so to speak.
“Where are you staying?” Tanner asked as they headed for their vehicles.
“The Strater Hotel. It’s lovely.”
“Yeah, a landmark, built in 1887.” His tone held a tiny note of the proud resident. “You know, Will Rogers stayed there. And Louis L’Amour wrote several of his Western novels while he was staying there.”
“He must have stayed a while,” she said, smiling at his instructive tone. “Or written very fast.”
He grinned.
Bri felt something inside go all squishy. Why did he have to have such a sexy grin? She swallowed a sigh of self-disgust—or was it longing?—and was relieved when they came to her rental SUV. “This one’s mine.”
“I’m right behind you.” He moved his head, indicating the much larger, kick-ass SUV. “I’ve got some calls to make before I go for the food supplies and some loose ends to tie up tomorrow. Suppose I pick you up the day after tomorrow? I want to get an early start. Is five okay with you?”
In that instant Bri became wary of his intentions. “You will be here, won’t you?”
At once, his pleasant