A Man of His Word by Sarah M. Anderson Read Free Book Online Page A

Rosebud was grasping at straws. The whole situation had an air of unreality to it. Was she really about to have dinner—at his house—with the one-and-only Cecil Armstrong? With Dan Armstrong? Was she really this scared about it?
    Oh, yeah, she was terrified. If she’d owned chain mail, she would have put it on under the jacket, but she didn’t, so she’d settled for a lower-cut-than-normal tank top in a soft-and-flirty pink under her gray suit. That was as close as she got to pretty when she was about to do battle.
    She could do this. She was a lawyer, damn it. She’d argued a case before the South Dakota Supreme Court, for God’s sake—argued and won. She could handle the Armstrong men.
    She grabbed her briefcase and put on her game face. But before she could get anywhere, the front door swung open and out stepped the cowboy of her dreams.
    The white, button-up shirt was cuffed to the elbows, and the belt buckle sat just so on the narrow V of his waist. For a blinding second, she hoped he’d turn around and go right back inside, just so she could see what that backside looked like without a saddle or a sports coat to block the view. She thought she saw a loaded holster at his side, but she realized it was a cell phone. All that was missing was a white horse and a sunset to ride off into.
    Just one kiss, she thought as she fought to keep a satisfied smile off her face. Kissing Dan Armstrong wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, would it?
    â€œYou’re right on time,” Dan said as he came down to greet her. When he shook her hand this time, he acted like he was one step away from kissing it.
    Maybe two kisses. Darn it, this whole situation was driving her crazy. She fought the urge to swing her briefcase in between them like it was a guillotine. “I’m sure your uncle appreciates punctuality.”
    Dan still had her hand. Warm, again, and still not sweaty. He wasn’t nervous. The realization made her even more nervous. “He probably does. But he’s not here.”
    Relief flooded her system at the same time her heartbeat picked up another notch. “Oh?” Was it just the two of them?
    The look in Dan’s eyes said yes, it was just the two of them. The gentle pressure his fingers were exerting on her wrist seconded the motion. “He’s at some fundraiser.”
    She was going to have to draw the line at three kisses, tops. Any more than that, and this man would have her in a compromising position behind enemy lines. “You understand that no matter what party he tries to buy off, I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure he doesn’t get elected?”
    â€œCompletely.” No, there was no mistaking Dan’s feelings. He didn’t like his own uncle. But if that was true, what was he doing here, with her? Finally, he let go of her hand and stepped back. As his eyes skimmed her body, she saw his brow wrinkle. “This isn’t a business meeting, you know.”
    Just her luck—he really was that observant. He’d noticed her suit—what were the odds he remembered it was the same one she’d had on two days ago? She jutted out her chin in defiance of all known fashion laws and bluffed her way past the blush she was sure she was working on. “You didn’t expect me to treat this as a social call, did you?”
    â€œNo, I guess I didn’t.” He offered her his arm. Chivalry was not only not dead, it was also apparently alive and well in his part of Texas. She ignored the flattered feeling that started to hum high in her chest. So what if it had been an awfully long time since any white man had done more than look down his nose at her? She was not going to let this “respect” thing go to her head. “Shall we?”
    As they walked up the porch steps, Rosebud had the distinct feeling that she was walking into the jaws of hell, and the demon house would swallow her