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“No.” She smiled, her gray eyes aglow with anticipation. “I’m so curious I can hardly stand it.”
He sighed. Madelyn was as curious as a cat, in her own lazy way. She didn’t scurry around poking her nose into every new detail that came her way, but she would eventually get around to investigating any subject or situation that intrigued her. He could see where an ad for a wife would have been irresistible to her; once she had read it, it would have been a foregone conclusion that she had to meet the man for herself. If there was no way he could talk her out of going, he could make certain she wouldn’t be in danger. Before she got on that plane, he would know if this Reese Duncan had any sort of criminal record, even so much as a parking ticket. If there was any indication that Madelyn wouldn’t be perfectly safe, he would keep her off the flight if he had to sit on her.
As if she’d read his mind, she leaned forward. She had that angelic expression again, the one that made him wary. When Madelyn was angelic, she was either blisteringly angry or up to mischief, and he could never tell which until it was too late. “If you interfere in my social life, I’ll assume that I have the same freedom with yours,” she said sweetly. “In my opinion, you need a little help with your women.”
She meant it. She never bluffed, never threatened unless she was prepared to carry through on her threats. Without a word, Robert tugged his white handkerchief out of his pocket and waved it in surrender.
CHAPTER TWO
THE FLIGHT WAS a bit early landing in Billings. Madelyn carefully scrutinized the small group of people waiting to greet those leaving the plane, but she didn’t see any lone males who appeared to be looking for her. She took a deep breath, glad of the small reprieve. She was unexpectedly nervous.
She used the time to duck into the ladies’ room; when she came out, she heard her name being called in a tinny voice. “Madelyn Patterson, please meet your party at the Information desk. Madelyn Patterson, please meet your party at the Information desk.”
Her heart was beating a little fast, but not unpleasantly so. She liked the feeling of excitement. The moment was finally at hand. Anticipation and curiosity were killing her.
She walked with an easy stride that was more of a stroll than anything else, despite her excitement. Her eyes were bright with pleasure. The Billings airport, with its big fountain, was more attractive than the general run of airports, and she let the surroundings begin to soothe her. She was only a little nervous now, and even that small bit wasn’t revealed.
That must be him, leaning against the Information desk. He was wearing a hat, so she couldn’t see his face all that well, but he was trim and fit. A smile quirked her mouth. This was a truly impossible situation. A real wild-goose chase. They would meet, be polite, spend a polite day together; then tomorrow she would shake his hand and tell him she had enjoyed the visit, and that would be the end of it. It would all be very civil and low-keyed, just the way she liked—
He straightened from his relaxed position against the desk and turned toward her. Madelyn felt his eyes focus on her and grow intent.
She knew the meaning of the word poleaxed, but this was the first time she had ever experienced the feeling. Her lazy walk faltered, then stopped altogether. She stood frozen in the middle of the airport, unable to take another step. This had never happened to her before, this total loss of composure, but she was helpless. She felt stunned, as if she’d been kicked in the chest. Her heart was racing now, pounding out a painful rhythm. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps; her carry-on bag slipped out of her fingers and landed on the floor with a soft thud. She felt like a fool, but didn’t really care. She couldn’t stop staring at him.
It was just old-fashioned lust, that was all. It couldn’t be anything else, not at first sight. She felt panic at the very idea that it could be anything else. Just lust.
He wasn’t the most handsome man she’d ever seen, because New York was full of gorgeous men, but it didn’t matter. In all the ways that did matter, all the primitive, instinctual ways, call it chemistry or electricity or biology or whatever, he was devastating. The man oozed sex. Every move he made was imbued with the sort of sensuality and masculinity that made her think of sweaty skin and twisted sheets. Dear God, why on earth should this man ever have had to advertise for a wife?
He was at least six-three, and muscled with the iron, layered strength of a man who does hard physical labor every day of his life. He was very tanned, and his hair, what she could see of it under his hat, was dark brown, almost black. His jaw was strongly shaped, his chin square, his mouth clear-cut and bracketed by twin grooves. He hadn’t dressed up to meet her, but was wearing a plain white shirt with the cuffs unbuttoned and rolled back, ancient jeans and scuffed boots. She found herself frantically concentrating on the details of his appearance while she tried to deal with the havoc he was wreaki
ng on her senses, all without saying a word.
None of her excited imaginings had prepared her for this. What was a woman supposed to do when she finally met the man who turned her banked coals into a roaring inferno? Madelyn’s first thought was to run for her life, but she couldn’t move.
Reese’s first thought was that he’d like to take her to bed, but there was no way he’d take her to wife.
She was everything he’d been afraid she would be: a chic, sophisticated city woman, who knew absolutely nothing about a ranch. It was obvious from the top of her silky blond head down to the tips of her expensive shoes.
She was wearing white, not the most practical color for travel, but she was immaculate, without even a wrinkle to mar her appearance. Her skirt was pencil-slim and stopped just above her knees, revealing knockout legs. Reese felt his guts tighten, just looking at her legs. He wrenched his gaze upward with an effort that almost hurt and was struck by her eyes.
Beneath the loose, matching jacket she was wearing a skimpy top in a rich blue color that should have made her eyes look blue, but didn’t. Her eyes made him feel as if he were drowning. They were gray, very gray, without a tinge of blue. Soft-looking eyes, even now when they were large with…dismay? He wasn’t certain of the expression, but belatedly he realized that she was very pale and still, and that she’d dropped her bag.
He stepped forward, seizing on the excuse to touch her. He curved his hand around her upper arm, which felt cool and slim under his warm palm. “Are you all right? Miss Patterson?”
Madelyn almost shuddered at his touch, her response to it was so strong. How could such a small thing produce such an upheaval? His closeness brought with it the animal heat of his body, the scent of him, and she wanted to simply turn into his arms and bury her face against his neck. Panic welled up in her. She had to get out of here, away from him. She hadn’t bargained on this. But instead of running, she called on all her reserves of control and even managed to smile as she held out her hand. “Mr. Duncan.”
Her voice had a small rasp to it that tugged at him. He shook her hand, noting the absence of jewelry except for the plain gold hoops in her ears. He didn’t like to see a woman’s hands weighted down with rings on every finger, especially when the hands were as slim as hers. He didn’t release her as he repeated, “Are you all right?”
Madelyn blinked, a slow closing and opening of her eyelids that masked a deep shifting and settling inside. “Yes, thank you,” she replied, not bothering to make an excuse for her behavior. What could she say? That she’d been stunned by a sudden surge of lust for him? It was the truth, but one that couldn’t be voiced. She knew she should be charming to ease the awkwardness of this meeting, but somehow she couldn’t summon up the superficial chatter to gloss things over. She could do nothing but stand there.
They faced each other like gunfighters on a dirt street, oblivious to the eddies of people stepping around their small, immobile island. He was watching her from beneath level brows, taking his time with his survey but keeping his thoughts hidden. Madelyn stood still, very aware of her femaleness as he looked her up and down with acutely masculine appraisal, though he revealed neither appreciation nor disapproval. His thoughts were very much his own, his face that of an intensely private man.
Even shadowed by his hat brim as they were, she could tell that his eyes were a dark green-blue-hazel color, shot through with white striations that made them gleam. They were wrinkled at the outer corners from what must have been years of squinting into the sun, because he sure didn’t look as if he’d gotten those lines from laughing. His face was stern and unyielding, making her long to see how he’d look if he smiled, and wonder if he had ever been carefree. This man wasn’t a stranger to rough times or hard work.
“Let’s go fetch your other luggage,” he said, breaking the silent confrontation. It was a long drive back to the ranch, and he was impatient to be on the way. Chores had to be done no matter how late he got back.
His voice was a baritone, a bit gravelly. Madelyn registered the rough texture of it even as she nodded toward the carry-on bag. “That’s it.”
“All of it?”
