Hot Touch by Deborah Smith Read Free Book Online Page B

least. Wolf slumped on the floor, his dark gray head resting on his paws, his ears drooping.
    After his momentary, misguided excitement over his master’s new friend, he’d become melancholy again. “Is this typical?” she asked Paul.
    “Yeah. He’s been like that for a week.”
    Caroline propped her chin on one hand and gazed at Wolf, hoping to pick up information. But he was a blank. She sensed a deep sorrow within him, but couldn’t pinpoint the source.
    “After breakfast I’ll give him a massage. Frank can plan to start using him again this afternoon.”
    Paul cracked eggs into an stoneware bowl with angry force. “Scrambled,” he announced.
    “Undoubtedly. Yum.”
    “Thought you were a knee-jerk vegetarian.”
    “A moderate. I eat chicken and seafood on occasion.”
    “How noble.”
    “I just don’t like to eat anything that might have been a client. So far I haven’t trained a hen or a fish.” She sat down on the floor by Wolf and stroked his broad head. “I’ll get you back to top form, sweetheart.”
    Wolf licked her hand. She glanced up and caught Paul watching them with chagrin. She stuck her tongue out at him and his expression darkened even more.
    “All right, so Wolf likes you. But he’s going to be more trouble than you expected.”
    “Everything here is more trouble than I expected. Complicated.”
    “No,
chère
, it’s simple. I need Frank’s money, so I’ll put up with you. Wolf will snap out of his mood whether you work with him or not. You’ll go back to Beverly Hills and leave me alone.”
    “Gladly,” she muttered.
    “It’s nothing personal. I have a helluva workload around here, not enough help, not enough money, and the last thing I need is a complaining houseguest.” Paul turned to face her and spread his arms in an encompassing gesture. “Simplicity. My life-style.” He pointed to the cappuccino machine. “Simplicity makes small luxuries more enjoyable.” He jabbed a finger at her. “Even you’re simple.” He swept a taunting gazeover her clingy blue maillot. “Easy to understand in all the important ways.”
    “Or so you’d like to think.” Caroline leaned back warily and felt her heart pounding. He was remembering what had happened last night, and so was she.
    “You’ve had the scar since you were a little girl. You hated it, so you became preoccupied with hiding behind an image. You’re always on guard. Especially around men.” He smiled knowingly, his eyes confident. “But let you get close to a lion tamer like me, and you purr.”
    Caroline kept a neutral gaze directly on him while her stomach shuddered from the fear that he was right. “I’ll admit that we have a love-hate relationship.” She tilted her head jauntily. “You love to think you’re irresistible, and I hate to destroy your fantasy.”
    To her surprise, he chuckled, a low, sexy sound. Respect filtered into his eyes. “Be glad I don’t feel like proving you wrong.”
    “Thank you kindly for the reprieve. I’ll be too busy with Wolf to mope with disappointment. All I want is to finish this job and get as far away from magnolialand as I possibly can.”
    “Why do you dislike the South?”
    She sighed grandly. “Sir, behind my sweet and innocent manner rests a story too tragic for words.”
    “Uh-huh. Sweet and innocent. Like a lady ’gator.”
    Caroline placed a hand over her heart and shut her eyes. “I shan’t share it with a man of your sensitivity. It’s too, too sad.”
    “Let’s see. You had a Southern beau. He dumped you in favor of someone more docile, like maybe a Hell’s Angel.”
    Caroline dead-panned, “And that broad wore the
tackiest
brass knuckles.”
    Paul stared at her in surprise. It was hard not to like a woman who could make fun of herself. It wasn’t whathe expected. They traded a look of tentative amusement until finally she coughed and looked away.
    Paul noticed abruptly that her face was chalky. The color had begun to fade from her complexion