Sweet Enemy by Diana Palmer Read Free Book Online

got to send Shorty into town anyway for some
wire I ordered. Since mother's not going to be back for two or
three more months," he added, "you'll have to act as hostess."
    "Can't Emma…?"
    "Honey, there's nothing like a pretty, sexy woman to keep buyers
happy," he taunted.
    The open glare she shot up at him was as potent as words. "I
will not be used as a…!"
    He leaned down, his warm breath mingling with hers,
stopping the tirade effectively just by moving close. His
eyes burned deep into hers. "Twelve years," he murmured, "and you
still can't tell when I'm teasing and when I'm not. I don't
intend using you as bait. And if any man lays a finger on
you, I'll break both his arms. Satisfied?"
    Her eyes widened, her whole expression puzzled. "Clint, why do
you…?"
    His finger tapped her nose lightly. "Finish your list. I'm
up to my neck in work."
    He turned abruptly and left her staring after him.
    Sale day came all too soon the next morning as the buyers
started arriving by car and plane. In no time at all, the lush grounds were covered
with them. Shorty was trying to be ten places at once, busy with
roasting huge carcasses for barbecue, stirring baked beans, making
rolls-Maggie volunteered to help, but he wouldn't hear of it,
gesturing angrily at her flowing white dress and demanding to know
how she'd ever get grease spots out. She left him to do it with a
smile and a wink. Seconds later, Emma barged in with her
apron already spotted and stained, and started watching the beans.
Shorty almost fell on her shoulder and kissed her.
    Maggie supervised the temporary help, getting tables set up,
coffee urns arranged, tea made and tubs brought in for soft drinks
and beer. She remembered sale days in her childhood, when Mrs.
Raygen had made this seem so easy. It was anything but.
    Unconsciously, she searched the nearby stalls for Clint and
found him with her eyes. A tall, slender, beautiful blond woman held onto him while he talked cattle with an elderly
man beside her. There was something so familiar about the woman;
she searched her memory and came up with a name. Sarah Mede. Little
Sarah, who'd grown into a siren, and was chasing Clint as
wholeheartedly as Maggie ever had at the precocious age of nine.
Maggie sighed wearily. Janna had said something about Sarah and her
father being on vacation in Europe. Apparently they were
back, and she didn't need to ask who Clint had been dating
recently. That possessive little jeweled hand said it
all.
    She turned back to her chores, wishing with all her heart that
Brent could have made it back in time to give her some moral
support. She felt as if she'd never needed it more. If only she'd
never come!
    "Well, hello," came a smooth masculine voice from behind
and she turned to find a fortyish, rather attractive man in a
rust-colored leisure suit standing behind her.
    She smiled automatically. "Hello. Here for the sale?" she
asked.
    He smiled down at her. "That's why I came," he drawled with a
laugh in his voice. "But I hear Clint's cousin already put in a bid
for Bighorn. I sure had my heart set on that old Hereford
bull."
    "Sorry," she said with a smile. "But Brent did, too."
    "You one of the family?"
    She shook her head. "I'm Clint's temporary secretary. But
I grew up just a few minutes north of here. I've known Clint and
Janna and Brent most of my life."
    "I hate to be pushy, but do you think I could get a cup of
coffee while we wait on that barbecue?" he asked. "I flew out of
Austin without breakfast, or coffee, or a kind word from my
housekeeper, and I'm just about dry."
    "There's beer if you'd rather," she said, thinking he looked
more like a beer man than a coffee one.
    He grinned, making extra lines in his swarthy face. "Can't stomach the stuff," he said with quiet
honesty. "Although I will admit to a taste for aged Scotch. But
right now all I want is coffee."
    "Then, that's what you'll get, Mister…?"
    "Masterson," he replied. "Duke Mas-terson. You?"
    "Maggie Kirk."
    "Just Maggie?"