Mustang Annie by Rachelle Morgan Read Free Book Online

horses.
    Corrigan folded the map and slipped it into his vest pocket. “Annie, you ready to ride?”
    She could handle it, she told herself. Just a quick trip into the canyon. Knowing the Palo Duro as well as she did, she’d have the task done in no time, then be on her way to Mexico. Managing a strained smile, she replied, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
    Â 
    Brett tried his damnedest to keep his eyes on the land as they rode through the knee-high grasses, yet time and again, his attention strayed toward Annie. Riding well ahead of him, she sat the buckskin with the straight-spined confidence of a woman well seasoned to the saddle, her figure moving to the motion of the animal, her long flaxen braid swinging down her back like a bellpull.
    She hadn’t said a word since leaving the ranch. That in itself didn’t strike Brett as odd; he could sum up their conversation since meeting in one paragraph. But the set of her posture told him how she resented the company of his men and the protection he’d imposed upon her.
    Or maybe it was just his company she resented.
    The thought grated as much now as it had the first time he’d met her. Gaining the attention of a woman hadn’t ever been a problem, and the thought that Annie would give a pile of dung more notice than him frosted his chaps.
    Well, she could fuss and fume all she wanted, but damned if Brett would let her venture off on her lonesome, no matter how reputable her skills.
    He had an investment to protect.
    Even the reminder of Annie’s criminal history didn’t stop Brett’s gaze returning to her yet again, despite his best effort. What was it about her that he found so compelling? Sure, she was pleasing to look at—her honey-toned features strong-boned and natural, wide sapphire eyes set under arched blonde brows, a straight-bridged nose and stubborn chin.
    The rest of her wasn’t so hard on the eyes, either, he admitted, his attention dropping to her legs.
    The image of those shapely limbs wrapped around him sent the temperature of his blood rising, and made him painfully aware that hard leather and even harder flesh did not make a comfortable match. He shifted, trying to ease the discomfort, but it didn’t help.
    If she had any clue where his thoughts were heading, there was no doubt in his mind that she’d bust his jaw.
    Brett grinned. God, what a woman.
    Urging Fortune into a lope, Brett closed the distance between himself and Annie until their horses were neck and neck. They traveled in silence for a while, and Brett realized this was the first time he’d ever ridden with a women beside him. “So, what do you think of my little dynasty?”
    She shot him a startled look. “We’re still on your land?”
    â€œYep. Quite a spread, isn’t it?”
    â€œI had no idea Durham owned so much property.”
    â€œI had no idea you knew Levi Durham.”
    â€œOur paths crossed on occasion,” she replied absently. “This place doesn’t look anything like I remember it. I almost didn’t recognize it.”
    â€œI’ll take that as a compliment.”
    â€œTake it any way you want. Durham wasn’t one much for orderliness and it showed in the way he kept his spread. Still, I never thought I’d see the day he’d sell.”
    â€œHe didn’t. My hand beat his.”
    â€œAh, now that makes sense.”
    Brett almost laughed at the sudden clarity in her tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    â€œYou don’t strike me as the horse rancher type.”
    Was it that obvious? “What type do I strike you as?”
    She gave him a good once over. “The type who will take advantage of any situation where you’ll come out the winner.”
    â€œI’m glad you think so highly of me,” he said dryly.
    â€œI call a spade a spade.” She shrugged. “So what was the hand? Royal flush, joker’s