Mail-order bridegroom Read Free

touch resurrected. She came alive in his arms, became the woman she'd once been. But another part of her, the part that had suffered at his hands, knew the danger, knew the price she'd pay for

    allowing him to sweep away the barriers she'd fought so hard to build. She couldn't afford to feel again. She'd almost been destroyed once by this man; she wouldn't offer him the opportunity to complete the job.
    He kissed her at length, the conqueror staking his claim, and a small growl of satisfaction rumbled deep in his chest. It was that tiny sound which finally brought her to her senses. She fought her way free of his embrace and retreated several steps across the porch. Raising trembling fingers to her mouth, she stared at him.. .stared in stunned disbelief at Hunter Pryde-—the one man she'd hoped never to see again.
    He returned her look, his expression one of cool amusement. 'Hello, Leah,' he said. 'It's been a long time.'
    His careless words brought a world of hurt. She struggled to conceal her devastation, to hide the pain his kiss had resurrected. After all that had gone before, after all they had once meant to each other, how could he be so casual, so heartless? Hadn't he caused enough anguish by walking out on her without... this?
    'It hasn't been long enough, as far as I'm concerned. Why are you here, Hunter?' she demanded in a raw voice. 'What do you want?'
    He smiled briefly, a flash of white teeth in a bronzed face. 'You know what I want. The same thing I've always wanted.'
    She shook her head in desperation. 'No. Not the ranch.'
    'The ranch? Try again, Leah.' He reached into his shirt pocket and retrieved a newspaper clipping. 'I've come in response to your ad.'
    A small gasp escaped. 'You can't be serious,' she protested.
    'I'm very serious.'

    His voice held an implicit warning and she took another unthinking step away from him. 'You... you can't do this. You don't even have an appointment!' She used the first ridiculous excuse that occurred to her, but she was grasping at straws and they both knew it.
    * Would you have given me one?' he asked, seemingly content to play the game her way. For now.
    'Not a chance.'
    'No. I didn't think so. Which is why I answered your ad under the name H.P. Smith.'
    Briefly, she shut her eyes. After her experience with Titus T. Culpepper, she'd pinned ridiculously high hopes on the unknown H.P. Smith. So much for dreaming of a knight in shining armor. Hunter Pryde was no knight— a former lover, a one-time wrangler on her father's ranch, and a thief who'd stolen her heart before vanishing like the morning mist—but no knight. More likely he'd prove to be one more battle she'd have to fight... and win.
    He tucked her ad back into his shirt pocket and cupped her elbow. 'Inside, Leah. We have a lot to discuss.'
    'No!' she protested, yanking free of his grasp. 'I have nothing to discuss with you.'
    He bent down, picked up her rifle and emptied the chamber of shells. He stared first at the slugs in his hand, then at her. 'I suggest you reconsider,' he told her.
    It took every ounce of self-possession not to apologize for shooting at him. She faced him, hands planted on her hips. 'You're not wanted here.' She gestured toward the rifle, adding drily, 'You should have taken the hint.'
    'Last chance, Leah. You don't want to fight me on this.'
    The words were arctic-cold, the threat inexorable. He gazed down at her, and the expression in his eyes almost stopped her breath. Why did he look at her like that—

    as though all the sins in the world could be laid at her doorstep and he'd come to exact retribution? She'd done nothing to hirn, except love him. And he'd repaid that love with desertion. His fierce gaze continued to hold her, and with a sudden, gut-wrenching certainty she realized that somehow she'd wronged him and he'd come to even the score. She fought a mind-numbing panic. If she succumbed to panic she didn't stand a chance against him.
    Instinct urged her to throw him off her