Wildfire (7 page)

She would see Tanner tonight to start her lessons. And she would get hot or die trying.

❧

Rae was sitting on the steps, her chin resting in the palms of her hands, when Tanner walked around the corner of the cabin, coming from the direction of the stables. Although his shirt was only half-buttoned, allowing altogether too much of his tanned chest to show, he was fully dressed.

Somehow, it seemed like a good omen.

Stopping short at the sight of her, he raised one dark brow, then stepped past her to open the door.

"So you really showed up." He stood aside to let her follow him inside. "I didn't think you would. I figured you would start thinking, and with you, that's always a mistake."

"Funny," she said, her voice dry.

He closed the door behind her and leaned against it. Silently and with great concentration, he studied her hair. As the examination drew out, Rae stared at the ceiling and tapped her foot with impatience.

"Definitely an improvement," he said finally. "You freed up the curls. Pert. Sassy."

With a movement that caught her off-guard, he reached out and removed one of the combs that held back the sides of the chin-length bob. Spiral curls sprang forward to almost cover her right eye.

"Now you could even call it flirty. You look like a woman of the nineties. Just exactly the right blend of practical and sexy."

"I'm so glad you approve," she said, the words sarcastic as she pretended to ignore the possessive satisfaction in his husky voice. "I worried all day about whether or not you would like it."

"I'm in charge of this project," he said. "And that means my word is law. If I hadn't liked it, you would've had to do something else."

Biting back a sharp retort, she drew in a deep breath and let it slide. She had a feeling there were going to be a lot of things she would have to let slide before this was over.

After a moment she moved on into the room and turned to face him. "Okay, so where do we start?"

"Right there."

She glanced behind her. "Right where?"

"The way you talk. Blunt. To the point. Exploratory conversation hasn't got a chance with you. It's get in, get it over with, and get out. You've got to soften up a little. Start with a few minor forays. Tease a little. Hint at deeper mysteries to come. Leave a man with the impression that there's more to you than meets the eye."

She let out a huffing breath of air. "I have no mysteries. How can I hint at what I don't have? I can't even pretend to have it, because I don't know what it is I'm supposed to have ... of which I definitely don't have any!"

He cocked his head to one side and gave her a glance. "A little heavy on the frustration. We'll have to work on that."

By the time she finished counting, he had moved to the couch and was pushing a scattering of newspapers aside. "Come over here and sit down," he said, glancing over his shoulder. "We might as well get started."

When she was settled on the couch, he dropped down beside her, flinging one arm over the back as he turned sideways to study her.

"Uncross your arms," he ordered abruptly. "That's a defensive move. It tells people you want to keep them out. The point is to invite them in. Or in this case, invite him in."

She shot him a belligerent look. "Do you have to criticize everything I do?"

"Yes." His tone was firm and implacable. "That's my job. Okay, the first thing you have to understand is that I'm not going to teach you how to be hot."

Her head came up abruptly. "But you said-—"

"Calm down. I told you from the very first that you had all the stuff you need. You just don't know how to share it with the rest of the world. With a pint of bourbon under your belt, you'd probably turn it loose, but you can't very well go around snockered all the time."

He leaned back and smiled. "And that's where I come in. I'm going to show you what you've got, then teach you how to use it."

She sent him a skeptical look. "Wouldn't it be easier if I just faked it?"

He shook his head. "That would be like faking orgasm, only it'd last longer. You couldn't keep it up. Some women maybe, but not you. You'd know you were faking, which means so would everyone else. I never met a more honest face."

"I never faked—" She broke off and drew in a slow breath. "Okay, so where do we—" She broke off again and clamped her mouth shut. She was already back to blunt.

He chuckled. "You don't have to watch every word. That's what I'm trying to tell you. When you free up the inner stuff, the rest comes automatically."

Rubbing the tip of her nose with one finger, Rae cut her eyes toward him. She hadn't known what to expect tonight, but she had to give credit where credit was due. He seemed to have given this some thought. And what he said made sense.

How she hated making that admission, even to herself.

Nodding reluctantly, she said, "Okay, I see your point, but I still don't understand how you're going to do it."

The glittering amusement in his eyes acknowledged her lingering wariness. "We'll take it slow, maybe work on your reactions to a man in a casual situation, do some loosening-up exercises. You need to get to know me first, get used to being around me."

When he reached up to touch one of the newly freed curls, she stiffened.

"You see?" he said.

There had been no change in his tone as he touched her hair. No intimacy had been added to his voice. It was sensual, but Tanner's voice was naturally sensual, constantly sensual. It was one of the things about him that had always disturbed her.

She cleared her throat. "See what?"

"You see how fast your guard goes up? We're going to have to knock that down first of all. Wipe it out. You have to learn to relax around me."

Avoiding his eyes, she shifted her position and pulled her hair free of his teasing fingers. "Why do I need to relax around you? Drew is the one—"

"Forget Drew for right now." The words were abrupt, almost harsh. "This isn't about him. It's about you. And I can't teach you about yourself until you trust me enough to listen and learn."

Once again his perception took her by surprise. "All right, I guess that sounds reasonable."

He gave a soft laugh. "You don't have to sound so shocked. You came to me because you knew I could get the job done. Didn't you?"

"I suppose I did," she admitted grudgingly.

"Right, now where were we?"

"I'm supposed to learn how to relax around you."

He nodded. "You learn to relax, and then we work on opening your mind to new experiences."

"New experiences," she echoed, her tone absorbed as she began to take mental notes.

"I've noticed that you always think before you speak, before you act. You spend most of your time counting to ten, and all that does is inhibit your natural responses. You're going to have to'learn how to be more spontaneous. You have to be completely at ease with yourself before you'll be able to follow through on an instinctive reaction."

Again she nodded. "And then?"

He tilted his head back and rubbed his chin, his eyes narrowed in thought. "And then .. . this is just off the top of my head, you understand, I haven't got a schedule mapped out or anything, but next we would probably want to get naked and jump in bed for a couple of days."

Several seconds ticked by before the words sank in, and she grasped what he said. Then she was on her feet, shaking with fury as she stood before him.

He had done it to her again.

"You—I should have known!" She scooped up a magazine from the floor and threw it at him, then another and another. "Dammit, I should have known! You are the most—Every time I—Oh, go screw yourself \n

She was out the door and halfway across the yard when she heard his belated response.

"By George, I think we're making progress."

❧

Rae had flipped through all the television channels twice before she realized what she was doing. Punching the buttons for the PBS station, she drew her legs up beside her and tucked the edges of the pink-striped nightshirt around her bare legs.

She wasn't in the mood for the dining habits of the little brown desert lizard. But then she wasn't in the mood for television, period, so it didn't really matter what was on the screen.

Exhaling a heavy sigh, she reluctantly admitted that the fiasco at Tanner's house two nights earlier had left her stuck in some awkward, purgatorial stage. She couldn't go back to being satisfied with the way things were, yet she couldn't move forward without his help.

And hell would freeze over before she'd give Tanner West another chance to make a fool of her.

If she had once stopped to think, she would have known she couldn't trust him. He was the town outlaw. Dicton's dark desperado. He had spent his whole life breaking the rules, along with a few noses and more than a few hearts. Only an idiot would have gone to him for help.

There had to be some other way, she told herself now. Maybe she could find out what committees Drew was on and sign up. With a little prolonged contact, she could impress him with her . .. what? Her civic-mindedness?

Brilliant.

She would be better off studying the fashion magazines, making a few subtle changes to match her new hairstyle. She wouldn't do anything blatant. That would make her feel self-conscious, and everyone would know she was pretending to be something she wasn't. Tanner had been right about that. But a little store-bought sex appeal couldn't hurt anything. She would drive to Dallas for a weekend of shopping and—

At that moment a noise from her bedroom reached her, putting an end to all thought. It was a sliding sound, the kind a window makes when it's being closed. Or opened.

As her heart began beating a rapid tattoo, she glanced around in panic, then slipped off the couch and crept toward the hearth. Picking up the bronze cat that had been a wedding present from Johnny's great-aunt Flora, she tiptoed down the hall to the bedroom door and silently eased it open.

She held the cat by its long, slender neck, raised it slowly above her head, and reached in to flick on the overhead light.

"The police are on the way, so you'd better not—" Breaking off abruptly, she stood and stared, her eyes slowly widening in disbelief.

Tanner was kneeling on the window seat, his back turned to her as he closed her bedroom window.

"I don't believe it." The words were a blend of anger and relief. "You really are incredible. Is there some reason why you can't use the front door like ordinary people? Are the old criminal tendencies catching up with you again?"

"Rae, Rae." He shook his head in a slow, regretful movement. "I'm surprised at you. I thought you were too morally upright to listen to gossip spread around by—"

He broke off and raised one brow as he examined her. Slowly, giving consideration to each detail. Starting at her feet, moving up her long legs, lingering at her high breasts before going on to her disheveled hair. '

"I have just revised my opinion of candy-striped cotton nightshirts." The hoarse, gravelly sound of his voice sounded even more provocative than usual.

Resisting the urge to pull at the hem of her nightshirt, she placed the bronze cat on the bureau; then, drawing in a slow breath, she turned to face him. "Tanner," she said sweetly, "why did you crawl through my bedroom window?"

"Gossip again. I know what people would say if they saw the notorious Tanner West calling on Dicton's resident nun in the middle of the night.

It would get you some attention, but not the kind you want."

After a moment she nodded. "I'll accept that. But it doesn't explain why you're here at all."

"You missed your appointment two nights in a row." He turned over his right hand and began to examine his fingernails. "I was afraid I had, you know, inadvertently said something to offend you. I know how sensitive you are, and I'd hate for you to get the wrong idea."

She reacted with an inelegant snort. "I'm sure regret is just eating you alive. You knew very well I wouldn't be back. You did it on purpose. I came to you, seriously asking for your help, and you—"

"And I was seriously giving you my help."

With that careless dismissal, he began moving about her room, his gaze exploring her private world. A moment later he picked up a snow-white lace-edged pillow and held it to his face, inhaling the scent.

"I recognize that," he murmured. "I catch a hint of it any time you're around. What is it?" The question was not directed at her, but at some piece of his own memory. "Tropical flowers and seafoam? A mermaid's hair would smell like this."

Glancing over his shoulder, he finally returned his attention to Rae. "I got a reaction out of you, didn't I?"

She pulled the pillow out of his hand and dropped it back to the bed. "I didn't come to you to learn how to lose my temper. After two years of being in the same town with you, I'm getting pretty good at it."

Her last words were directed at his back because he had moved past her to stand in front of her dressing table. He picked up a sable brush and feathered it across his lips, then dropped it and began to examine an eyeliner pencil.

"I can never remember if mascara is the tube thing or the pencil thing."

When he started to remove the glass stopper from her perfume, Rae stepped forward and snatched the bottle from his hand. "Will you please stick to the point?"

He switched his gaze to her face and smiled, obviously amused by her frustration. "You do it. Lawyers are trained point stickers, so why don't you take over?"

"Okay, I will," she said tightly. "And the point is, our 'unholy alliance,' as you call it, won't work. We would end up killing each other. You rub me the wrong way, and I—Don't you dare make something suggestive out of that," she warned when he opened his mouth to speak. "You know what I mean. How can I accomplish anything if I'm always mad at you?"

"Who says you'll always be mad at me?" He leaned his hip against the dressing table. "You never know, I might start to grow on you." He tilted his head slightly, one brow raised. "I can be awfully winsome when I put my mind to it."

At that moment Rae discovered it was possible to be furiously angry and at the same time feel the overpowering urge to laugh.

Clearing her throat noisily, she moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

"I don't think so," she said finally. "I'm sure you can be as charming as all get-out when you try. There are enough women mooning over you to tell me you have something. But the thing is, you're never charming to me. Not that I want you to be charming," she added quickly. "You know what I mean. You and I simply don't get along."

"Coward."

"I'm not—"

"Yes, you are. You're a wuss. I knew it all along. You haven't got the intestinal fortitude of a limp piece of parsley."

"Courage has nothing to do with this."

"Sure it does. Do you have the guts to go after what you want? Or maybe the real question is, is Drew really what you want? If you're not willing to put up with me for a little while to get him, he can't be all that important to you."

She gritted her teeth. "Why are you pushing, Tanner?"

His lips stretched in a slow, sensual smile that made her want to smack his face. "Lynda is still out there, and she's still got enough sizzle to melt a Hershey bar from fifty yards away. How am I ever going to get a shot at her if you give up now?"

"That's not my problem."

"I think Drew's losing interest in her." He leaned toward her, his voice low and tempting. "He must have gotten a good look inside the cereal box. Now would be the perfect time for you to make your move, before he goes hunting again and comes home with another one just like her."

Frowning, she studied the devilish gleam in his dark eyes. "If she can't hold Drew's interest any longer than that, why do you want her?"

He moved his shoulders in a brief shrug. "Different requirements. Drew thinks a meal should have meat and potatoes as well as dessert. Not me. Just hand me the pie and a fork and I'm happy. Come to think of it, forget the fork. I can—"

"Do you really think he's losing interest?"

"He came out to work with the men today while the lovely Lynda lay all alone by the pool.. . and you should have seen the bathing suit she was almost wearing today." He gave a low whistle at the memory.

Rae caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Maybe Tanner was right. If Lynda had really spent the entire day alone, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume that Drew was having second thoughts about the relationship. Maybe now—

A sudden shiver shook through Rae, and she let out a helpless little moan.

"What kind of face is that?" he asked. "You look like you just found half a worm in your apple."

"Something like that," she said wryly. "I think hell's about to freeze over."

She gave him a cautious look and rose to her feet. "You promise you won't make any more lewd remarks?"

With a low, husky laugh he shook his head. "Sorry, I can't do that. Your definition of lewd is different from mine. How about I promise not to suggest a couple of days in bed again? Will that put your timid little soul at ease?"

She rubbed her knuckles across her chin, glancing at him from the corners of her eyes. She didn't trust him. She didn't trust him for a minute. But she wanted Drew.

"I'm out of my mind," she muttered. "Brain-dead. Over the edge and out of sight." She drew in a slow breath. "Okay, I'll do it."

He grinned and walked to the window seat. "I knew you'd come around," he said as he raised the window. "It's the dimple in my chin. Gets 'em every time."

After she had fastened the window behind him, after watching him vault over her back fence, Rae sat down on the window seat and closed her eyes, shaking her head slowly.

She was going to put herself in Tanner's hands.

God help her.