“Did you ever think that maybe Annie is your reality? And the other is just an elaborate personality you’ve invented?”
She looked at him sharply. “Annie isn’t real. I’m not like her. I don’t flirt and I don’t dress that way. I’m a very serious person who is pursuing a very demanding career. Practicing law has always been my dream, and I’m almost there.”
Well. She’d told him. “Did you flunk your exams?”
“No. I left you early that Monday morning because I had a test at ten o’clock.”
“You could have woke me up and told me that.”
She shook her head. “I was afraid you’d talk me into staying. I was really scared by what I’d done, Wade. I panicked. I ran back to the world where I belonged. You and the rodeo—that was a fantasy.”
He stood up, angered by her words, and made a mock bow. “Glad I could oblige. But next time you need to blow off steam, try racquetball.”
“I didn’t think it would matter to you. We both knew it was a temporary thing. You were on the road. I figured you slept with a different girl in every town, that you’d be glad I left without all those uncomfortable goodbyes.”
“Yeah, well, you’re right. It stung a little, waking up in that empty bunk, not even a note, but it wasn’t all that hard to find a replacement.” Big lie. He hadn’t slept with anyone since Annie. Too busy, too focused on the competition. Anyway, every time he looked at an attractive woman now, he compared her to Annie and found her lacking.
Annie had spoiled him.
“That’s what I figured.” Her voice cracked, making Wade wonder if his barb had found its mark. Did she have any feelings about what happened between them?
“What you did wasn’t very nice,” he said. “Even if it was just a casual affair.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t handle the situation better. I was out of my element. I’d never had a one-night stand before.”
“Three nights.” Three glorious, earth-shattering, life-altering nights of the steamiest lovemaking he’d ever experienced.
“Three nights,” she agreed. “It was a wonderful weekend, the best—Oh, hell, I’m going to blow it now.”
“I don’t think so. Finish what you were saying. My ego could use a boost.”
She turned away from him. “It was the best time I ever had.”
He came up quietly behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. She tensed, so he didn’t push it—didn’t press his lips to that sensitive place on her neck he knew about, didn’t pull the pins out of that ridiculously tight knot her hair was in, didn’t wrap his arms around her body and hold her fast against him until she agreed not to run.
He knew running was exactly what she had in mind, and there was probably nothing he could do about it.
“I guess you’re not here to take up where we left off,” he said.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
She stepped out of his loose grasp and turned to face him. “A casual affair just isn’t my style. Anyway, you wouldn’t really want to bother with me. I’m so completely different from Annie.”
“Maybe you’d be more like her if you’d smile once in a while. Is that some kind of lifestyle choice?”
“I don’t have anything to smile about right now, okay?”
“Your dream coming true doesn’t make you smile?”
“It hasn’t come true yet. I don’t have a job. I haven’t passed the bar. Lots of hurdles to jump.”
“So you’re under a lot of stress.”
“Yes. Exactly.”
He ran one finger down her cheek, gratified to feel her tremble. Nice to know he still had some effect on her. “I know a really good stress buster. It’s called Cowboy Valium.”
She hesitated a fraction of a second longer, then jumped out of his reach. “No. That’s not why I came here. And if you chose this isolated place for us to meet so you could seduce me, you’re in for a disappointment.”
“As I recall, lady, you were the one who insisted on privacy.”
“It would be pointless to start something. I’ll be leaving town again in a couple of weeks. And I can’t afford any distractions. I’ve got job interviews, I’ve got to study for the bar…”
“Who are you trying to convince?”
“I’m just not the temporary-fling type.”
Neither was he. But unlike Anne, he wasn’t convinced a fling was all they could have. Sure, the circumstances worked against them, but anything was possible if they put their minds to it.
If he spoke his thoughts out loud, she would probably break something running away from him. A skit-tish woman like Anne required careful handling.
The kindest thing he could do right now was let her go. Unfortunately, he wasn’t feeling kind. “You can’t tell me you’re not real, Annie.”
“Stop calling me Annie.”
“The woman called Annie is part of you. You can’t convince me otherwise. And if you ask me, Annie is worth a dozen uptight, frowning, defeminized, frumpish Anne Chatsworths. A fat paycheck and a sixty-hour workweek won’t keep you warm at night, and it won’t make you laugh, and it’ll probably send you to an early grave. Stress does that, you know.”
She was silent, and Wade was afraid he’d gone too far. So much for careful handling.
She turned and stalked out of the barn, and Wade didn’t follow her. Moments later he heard her car starting, then tires spinning in dirt as she peeled out.
ANNE FUMED the whole way home. She was so mad, in fact, that she forgot to be quiet when she pulled her car into the driveway. She got out and slammed the door, then made all kinds of noise as she entered the same way she’d come out.
Uptight, frowning, defeminized, frumpish… Just because she wasn’t wearing tight jeans and a low-cut blouse? Because she hadn’t troweled on two pounds of makeup, and her hair wasn’t teased up Dolly Parton big?
How dare Wade Hardison try to tell her how to live her life? Just because she’d spent a weekend with him, did that make him think he knew everything about her?
She was furious that he made her so tongue-tied, really ticked that he’d gotten in the last word. What kind of lawyer would she be if she froze up when an opponent got the advantage? She’d completely lost her cool. And, damn it, her cool was one of the few things she had going for her right now.
“Anne?”
Anne stopped short as she entered the kitchen. Her father was making himself a cup of hot cocoa. “Oh, hi, Dad.” Stay calm, don’t let him see that anything’s wrong. He would only worry about her.
“Where have you been?” he asked with a frown. “I thought you’d gone to bed.”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a drive.”
“Why didn’t you let us know you were leaving?”
“C’mon, Dad, I’m not sixteen anymore.”
“I know, honey, but we’re still allowed to worry about you, aren’t we? If your mother had stopped in your room to say good-night, she would have been frantic to find you gone.”
Anne sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll be more considerate in the future.”
Milton smiled. “Want some hot chocolate? Might