The Glass Shoe by Kay Hooper Read Free Book Online Page B

discarded lover, is that it?"
    She had the uneasy feeling that she wouldn't like where he was going with this conversation. "I have work to do."
    "And you think I might interfere with your work?"
    A wise little voice in Amanda's head told her that if she'd only keep her mouth shut, Ryder Foxx would rapidly tire of the sparring and leave her in peace. But she wasn't very surprised to find herself ignoring the voice.
    "Mr. Foxx, the staff here—such as it is—has no time to provide entertainment for you. There's a grimy deck of cards around here somewhere if you want to play solitaire. There are horses out in the corral if you ride, but please leave a trail of bread crumbs so none of us is forced to disrupt the work by having to go look for you."
    "You have quite a chip on your shoulder. I wonder why," he said thoughtfully, that gleam of enjoyment still present in his eye. "It might be worth my while to find out."
    Amanda felt a definite shock. She recognized that speculative tone in his voice, and it shook her. Totally against her will, she felt a rush of heat from somewhere inside her, and her legs went weak.
    No, she thought blankly. Oh, no...
    She squared her shoulders and glared at him. "I have a job to do here. So whatever you've got in mind, you can forget it."
    No more than a couple of feet away from her, he leaned an elbow on the counter and looked her over quite deliberately from her running shoes to her bright red hair. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to throw down a gauntlet?" he drawled.
    Amanda fought a sensation of half-excited panic. The only effect her rudeness seemed to have on him was to encourage him even more, and she didn't know what to do about it. She couldn't deceive herself into believing that she didn't enjoy the sparring, but she was too conscious of this man to allow any kind of relationship to develop—even an argumentative one. Particularly when all her instincts told her that getting involved with him on any level would be like striking a match in a room full of explosives.
    She got a grip on herself. "Any gauntlet you see is imaginary, Mr. Foxx."
    "Is it? Well, we'll find out soon enough, won't we, Miss Trask? In the meantime don't let me keep you from your work."
    Amanda managed to keep her face expressionless as she turned away from the counter and headed down the hall toward the south wing of the house, but it was difficult. She felt definitely bested in the encounter, and found her thoughts divided between wry amusement and panicked bewilderment.
    Her sense of responsibility made it impossible for her to call her uncle and ask him to find someone else for the job, and that meant she was stuck for the duration. And she was uneasily aware that her hostility toward Ryder Foxx had done nothing except pique his interest.
    The man had been at the ranch less than two hours, and already her nerves were on edge. She told herself that her only option was to ignore him as much as possible and keep herself busy, to stay out of his way. It was good advice. She only hoped that she could take it.
    "You missed supper, Miss Trask."
    Amanda felt herself tense. So much for good advice, she thought wryly. She'd managed to keep out of Ryder's way for several hours, surrounding herself with the work crew while they were there, then retreating into the den with paperwork. She'd built a fire in the old fireplace to combat the chill of the room, and was curled up at one end of the couch looking over furniture catalogues.
    Nemo, her constant companion, was sprawled out on the frayed hearth rug snoring softly.
    She watched as Ryder came around the end of the couch and sat down, annoyed with herself because she couldn't help thinking that he moved with a cat's unconscious grace.
    "Am I interrupting?" he asked innocently.
    "Yes," she said.
    "You can't work all the time. It's bad for your health, to say nothing of your temper."
    "Mr. Foxx—"
    "Ryder," he suggested.
    Enough, Amanda decided, was enough. She