The Girl with the Golden Gun

Just like Mia used to be.

Don’t think about her.

Impatient suddenly, maybe because he was so damn nervous at the thought of marriage—not that Abigail wasn’t perfect—he stomped into his ranch house to find her. Finding the kitchen empty, he strode through his high-ceilinged den, past the glitter of twelve championship gold buckles. When he shouted her name, he was a little surprised that she didn’t come running.

Curious now, but determined, because there’s nothing like a chase to whet a man’s appetite, he headed for the back of the house, thinking maybe she’d gone to the bathroom.

He frowned when he found the bathroom empty but saw a strip of gold glowing along the oak floor beneath his closed bedroom door. Curious, he pushed the door open. With a startled cry, she jumped from where she’d been kneeling beside his bedside table. The little velvet box with the engagement ring he’d bought for her spilled to the floor and glittered.

“Abigail?”

Her butterscotch-colored hair glistened in the lamplight. Her large, hazel eyes flashed with guilt. Flushing, she hurriedly crawled away from him on her knees toward his bed. Her shrink-wrapped white halter top and tight white jeans were way sexier than her usual clothes.

Not that he was in the mood to notice the way her breasts bulged so enticingly. He was focused on his ring that had rolled to a stop right in front of the pointed black toe of his alligator cowboy boot.

Slowly he leaned down and picked up the ring and velvet box. With a gasp, her frightened eyes lifted to his.

“Shanghai—I—I didn’t mean…I—I was looking for a fingernail file.” Her cheeks flamed.

“Sure.” Even though he hated liars more than he hated snakes, he kept his voice soft. He slid the ring inside and snapped the lid shut.

“In the bathroom,” he said tightly. “Second drawer to your left.”

“What?”

“The fingernail file you were looking for.”

“Oh…right.”

Tossing the box into the drawer, he slammed it shut. “The steaks are going to burn if I don’t go see about them.” Feeling the need for air, he turned to go.

“You can’t just walk out,” she cried when he was nearly to the den.

“I’m hungry,” he muttered, furious at her and at himself.

“Is that all you’re going to say?”

“What the hell do you want me to say?”

“Don’t you want to ask me…something?”

“No,” he admitted in a glum, dark tone. “Not anymore. At least not tonight, anyway.”

“Then when?”

“Don’t chase me, girl.”

“I—I’m sorry I—I searched your bedroom, Shanghai. I had no right…But, look, Matt told me weeks ago you bought the ring.”

“He wasn’t supposed to say anything!”

“I—I was just so curious and excited after he did. Then when you didn’t ask me, I kept wondering if you had another girl maybe in some other city. I started getting scared that maybe you’d given it to her.”

“I don’t have another girl,” he growled, stung. “You’re my only girl. Hell, if you don’t know that by now, we’re in big trouble.”

“Wolf said…”

“Who are you dating—me or Wolf?”

“He talks to me more than you do.”

“Then maybe you should marry him. I hear he’s between wives.”

Her eyes glistened. Her mouth was trembling. She was near tears and it was all his fault. She hadn’t done all that much. He was just ticked. He should take her in his arms and say he was sorry, but his chest felt constricted.

“I’d better check the steaks,” he said.

“Don’t you walk out of this room before we’re done.”

Sometimes Abigail had way too much spirit as far as he was concerned. She had lots of famous clients. He’d thought she was wild at first, but she had a serious, responsible side. Maybe that was why she made demands the girls he met on the road didn’t.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m done,” he said, stomping down the hall.

“Then maybe so am I. Who do you think you are? Oh, I know you’re a rich famous rodeo star, you can have your pick of women. But I’m the kind of woman who wants a guy, who wants only her. Maybe that sounds crazy to you.”

“I don’t think it’s crazy,” he muttered, but he kept on walking.

“You travel all over the country in your friends’ private planes or your souped-up truck,” she said, running after him. “You think you are hot stuff. Everybody’s always clamoring for your autograph.”

“Kids.” He turned. “I can’t say no to the kids.” Not when they came up to him with stars in their eyes and were almost too tongue-tied with awe of him to speak. “Big deal. I sign autographs.”

“Girls chase you, too. You don’t call much or write much when you’re gone.”

It was a fault of his, staying too busy to keep in touch.

“I don’t have to. You always call me,” he said.

“Yes. I do…because I thought you loved me.”

He’d thought so, too. “Hell.”

She raced in front of him, blocking the glass door.

“I’ve got a career, too. My daddy says I should marry a lawyer or a doctor…instead of some rodeo character.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Maybe I will. Two handsome guys bought the ranch on the other side of mine. Connor and Leo Storm. Connor’s a cowboy. Leo’s a corporate type. Runs a big ranch in south Texas.”