Against the Rules by Linda Howard Read Free Book Online Page A

wanted, you only had to mention it to Monica and she made sure you got the money to do it.”
    â€œThe only money I ever got from Monica was for the ranch!” he snapped. “Ward trusted me to run this ranch for him, and his death didn’t change that.”
    â€œI know that. You’ve worked for this ranch as hard—harder—than any man would for his own spread.” Obeying another instinct, she put her hand on his chest, spreading her fingers and feeling the warm, hard flesh beneath the material of his shirt. “I resented you, Rule. I admit it. When Dad first died it seemed like you were bulling in and taking over everything that had been his. You took the ranch, you moved into his house, you organized everything about our lives. Was it so impossible to think that you might have taken over his wife, too?” God, why had she said that? She didn’t even believe it, yet she felt driven to somehow lash out at him.
    He went rigid and his breath hissed between his teeth. “I’d like to turn you over my knee for that!”
    â€œAs you’ve said several times, I’m all grown up now, so I wouldn’t advise it. I won’t take being treated like a child,” she warned, her spine stiffening as she remembered that long-ago incident.
    â€œSo you want me to treat you like a woman, then?” he ground out.
    â€œNo. I want you to treat me like what I am...” She paused, then spat out, “Your employer!”
    â€œYou’ve been that for years,” he pointed out harshly. “But that didn’t stop me from spanking you, and it didn’t stop me from making love to you.”
    Realizing the futility of standing there arguing with him, Cathryn jerked away and started for the house. She had taken only a few steps when long fingers closed over her arm and pulled her to a halt. “Are you always going to run when I mention making love?” His words were like blows to her nervous system, and she quivered in his grip, fighting the storm of mingled dread and anticipation that confused her.
    â€œYou didn’t run that day by the river,” he reminded her cruelly. “You were ready and you liked it, despite it being your first time. You remind me of a mare that’s nervous and not quite broken, kicking your heels at a stallion, but all you need is a little calming down.”
    â€œDon’t you compare me to a mare!” The furious words burst out of her throat and she was no longer confused; she was clearheaded and angry.
    â€œThat’s what you’ve always brought to mind—a long-legged little filly with big dark eyes, too skittish to stand under a friendly hand. I don’t think you’ve changed all that much. You’re still long legged, you’ve still got big dark eyes, and you’re still skittish. I’ve always liked chestnut horses,” he said, his voice sliding so low that it was almost a growl. “And I’ve always meant to have me a redheaded woman.”
    Sheer rage vibrated through her slender body, and for a moment she was incapable of answering. When she was finally able to speak, her voice was hoarse and shaking with the force of her temper. “Well, it won’t be me! I suggest you go find yourself a chestnut mare .... That’s more your type!”
    He was laughing at her. She could hear the low rumbling sound in his chest. She raised her clenched fist to hit him, and he moved with lightning reflexes, catching her delicate fist in his big, hard palm and holding it. She tried to jerk away, but he pulled her inexorably closer until she was close enough that their bodies just touched. He bent his head until his breath feathered warmly over her lips, and with the lightest of contacts he let his mouth move against hers as he said, “You’re the one, all right. You’re my redheaded woman. God knows I’ve waited long enough for you.”
    â€œNo—” she began,