The Playboy Meets His Match

“Your house,” she whispered, her breath sweet, lightly brushing his skin.

Keeping up his guard, he moved away and fished for his keys, starting the pickup. Now she was hunched into a ball in the corner between the door and the back of the seat. As he drove out of the lot, he glanced at her again. She looked pitiful all huddled over, but his bruised midriff warned him not to be taken in by appearances. This was not a cringing, frightened little waif. The wildcat had a punch that had knocked him flat.

Jason worked out over an hour every day. He shouldn’t have been felled by a blow from a female of her size, and he vowed he would increase his workouts tomorrow.

He opened the glove compartment and pulled out a flask of whiskey, opening it and offering it to her. “Need a drink?”

“Now you want to get me drunk so you can have your way with me,” she snarled.

“Great grief,” he grumbled, wanting a stiff drink himself, but resisting, since he was driving.

“Where did you get your vocabulary—out of some 1920s dime novel? Outside of melodramas, I didn’t know anyone used that phrase have your way with me.”

“You’re too young yourself to know anything about 1920s dime novels, and I certainly don’t. And you know full well what I meant.”

“I gave you my word. You’re not my type anyway.”

“I can imagine your type.”

He glanced at her again, his curiosity growing. Silence stretched between them as he drove down Main Street, Royal, Texas, the place where he had grown up and lived a good part of his life. “So, what type do you imagine I’d like?” he asked finally.

“Someone beautiful, sexy, sophisticated and easy. Real easy.”

Amused, he looked at her, still unable to see anything except a huddle of black.

“You don’t think I have any charm to win over someone who isn’t easy?”

“You tackled me twice,” she said in the same haughty, aloof tone that he could recall early grade-school teachers lecturing him with. “That isn’t a winning approach.”

“I wasn’t trying a winning approach. I never intended seduction. I was trying to stop a criminal act. That’s not a fair judgment of me,” he remarked, amused by her in spite of his annoyance at being saddled with responsibility for keeping her away from the others.

He drove past Pine Valley, the exclusive, private-gated, residential community that held mansions, including one belonging to his family where his brother was currently residing. Jason could take her there, but he preferred her out on the Windover Ranch—far enough out of town so that she would have a hell of a hike if she decided to run away.

“It might be a good idea if we knew each other’s names. I’m Jason Windover.”

“I’m Meredith Silver,” she said.

“Well, hi, Meredith. Where are you from?”

“I’m from Dallas,” she said.

“And what do you do in Dallas?” he asked, slipping into old patterns of interrogation, avoiding the hot topics or accusations.

“I’m a computer programmer. I’m a freelance consultant.”

“Interesting profession—and gives you freedom to keep your own hours sometimes.”

“Yes, it does,” she answered while she stared out the window. “We’re out of town.”

“I’m taking you to the Windover family ranch.”

“You’re a cowboy?”

“Yes, I am. I’ve been with the government, but I recently retired to the ranch. So, Meredith, who’s your current boyfriend?”

“There isn’t one,” she replied. “But I’ll bet there’s a woman in your life.”

“As a matter of fact, there’s not at present.”

“I’m sure she’s not far in the past and there’s another lined up somewhere in the near future.”

“Now why do you think that? You don’t know me.”

“You have that easygoing manner of a man accustomed to always having a female in his life.”

“Do I really?” he asked, amused by her observations.

“You know darn well you do. You’re also egotistical and overbearing.”

“Golly gee whiz. I’ll have to work on that.”

“You can save the charm because it won’t work on me.”

“Now is that a challenge or what?” he asked, his voice dropping as he shot her a look.

“It’s definitely not a challenge. Besides, I’m not your type remember?”

“Point taken.” He drove quietly for a few minutes and then asked, “Do you have a hotel room in Royal or did you intend to drive back to Dallas tonight?”

“I’m staying at the Royalton Hotel,” she replied, naming Royal’s oldest and finest hotel.

“Do you still have family in Dallas?”

“Yes. My sisters and my mom are in Dallas. I have an older brother who’s in Montana, I think.”

“Silver,” he said, remembering a stocky, wild guy from the rodeo circuit. “I’ve met a bull rider—Hank Silver.”

“That’s my brother,” she said with what sounded like reluctance.

“Well, small world. He’s a tough cowpoke. I’ll bet that’s where you got the punch you pack. You have a big family,” he said, curious to see what she looked like. Her voice was soft, low and soothing. A sexy voice that didn’t match her volatile personality. If he had talked to her on a telephone and hadn’t seen her in person, he would have conjured up an entirely different type of woman in his mind. The voice definitely didn’t fit a little five-foot wildcat with a vocabulary as old-fashioned as his grandmother’s. Her enticing voice didn’t fit someone who could deliver a jab that knocked the breath from your lungs. But with Hank Silver as an older brother, Jason could well imagine, she’d had to defend herself growing up. From what Jason could remember, Hank Silver was in trouble with the law more than once over barroom brawls.

“I have two older brothers,” he said. “Ethan and Luke.”

“That’s nice,” she said, not trying to hide her anger. for the next hour they lapsed into silence, a new experience for Jason with a female.

Jason turned south between large posts with the Windover brand carved on the front of each one and drove swiftly along a hard-packed road until they pulled up behind the sprawling ranch house that had belonged to his family for four generations. Moonlight splashed over a combination of red sandstone, rough-hewn logs and glass. A porch with a sloping roof ran along the front and a well-tended lawn was surrounded by a picket fence. Beyond the house were outbuildings, a guest house, a bunkhouse and a barn.

Jason stopped near the back gate and untied the belt, taking her arm to lead her inside. When they entered the house, he switched on lights in a back entryway that held a coat rack, pictures of horses and potted plants. He turned and punched buttons on a keypad to disengage the alarm system that was beeping steadily. As soon as he had finished, the tiny red alarm light changed to green and the alarm was silent.