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Carl leaned against the shovel handle. “When I first met you, I thought you were a man. It wasn’t until you spoke that I realized you were a woman.”
Candy bristled. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Your legs aren’t bad, either.”
From another man, Candy might have found the words complimentary, but not from Carl. “My being male or female has nothing to do with the feed store. We give you good service and excellent prices.”
“I don’t like your attitude.” Carl slapped the shovel against the side of the stall and advanced toward her.
Candy didn’t budge an inch. She refused to allow him to intimidate her.
“You’ve got a temper.”
“Me!” she protested.
“You’re bossy as hell.”
“I most certainly am not!” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. True, she’d crossed swords with Carl every time he was in the store, but that wasn’t her fault. At least not entirely.
“The fact is, I don’t like you.”
“The fact is, I don’t think much of you, either. You can forget I came by. It was an obvious mistake. Feel free to take your business elsewhere.” She spun around, eager now to make her escape. Pride was the only thing that prevented her from running out of the barn.
She hadn’t gone more than a couple of steps, when Carl reached out and grabbed her by the upper arm. Against her will, she came whirling back around with such force that she collided against his chest.
Carl seemed as surprised as she was herself, and now that he’d trapped her, he didn’t seem to know what to do with her. Fierce pride filled his eyes until they glittered with bronze fire. He drew her more firmly up against him and then lowered his mouth to hers.
Candy was too shocked to react, too stunned to respond. She meant to protest. No man in all her life had ever made her more angry. No man had defied her the way Carl Saks had. No man had stood up against her the way he had, either.
Against every dictate of her will, she parted her lips. He deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth one way and the other, pressing hard against her own.
Squirming, she protested, but he plowed his free hand into her hair and held her head prisoner while he dominated her in the most primitive of ways.
It didn’t take Candy long to realize she was waging a losing battle. She didn’t want this, and at the same moment, she was working her mouth against his, giving as well as receiving.
Before she was aware of what was happening, the intensity of the kiss changed. All the fight seemed to go out of them both at precisely the same moment.
Carl groaned and Candy melted against him.
The kiss went on and on until Candy wasn’t sure she ever wanted it to end. Carl was the one who came to his senses first. He eased his mouth from hers, dropped his arms and stepped back.
Candy raised the back of her hand to her mouth and pressed it there, all the while staring at him. Tears blurred her eyes. Tears of anger. Tears of outrage and denial.
Earlier pride had dictated that she not run from him. He’d stripped her of that. He’d claimed far more than a kiss. He’d robbed her of her dignity. With a lump in her throat, she reeled around and raced out of the barn as fast as her legs would carry her.
She thought she heard Carl call her name, but she didn’t stop running until she reached the truck. Never, she silently vowed, would she ever return.
* * *
“I like what you’ve done,” Zane told Lesley.Likedwas an understatement. Her ideas for the renovation were incredible. Better than he dared hope. That she’d spent an incredible amount of time and effort on the project was evident on every sheet.
“Once I have your approval I’ll give Jordan a copy. He’ll look them over and give you a rough estimate the first part of next week.”
Zane’s original intention had been to be as quick with this meeting as humanly possible. He’d look over the drawings simply to be polite and then explain that he had a pressing appointment and send Lesley back to the city. When he was alone, he’d review the drawings again.
The minute Lesley had shown him her ideas, Zane had been enthralled. She had captured the very soul of this home, taken the best of what he loved about the place and made it better. Some of the changes were dramatic. Walls removed. Rooms created. Others changes were subtle.
Zane pored over the prints, and each time he studied them he saw something more. He should be alarmed, he told himself. This woman, who knew little more about him than his given name, had captured the very essence of who he was. With that knowledge, she’d created for him a home any man would treasure. A home meant for a family. The family his vengeance would cost him.
