Optical Delusions in Deadwood Read Free Page B

dress; a blush heated my cheeks and spread south. I fanned myself with my hand. Dang it! How was it he could make me feel naked when I was fully clothed?

          “I like those shoes.”

          “They were a Christmas present.” My mother fed my shoe addiction annually—not that Doc cared about my gifts from Santa.

          “But I prefer your purple boots.”

          I shivered at the memory of digging my boot heels into his bare flesh and then fanned harder, my internal temperature spiraling out of control. “Doc, what are you doing?”

          “Making small talk while we wait for the inspector to finish.”

          “Right.” Bullshit. “What are you really doing here?”

          “Harvey called me.”

          I groaned. I should have known.

          “He said you were on the verge of signing a listing agreement to sell another albatross.”

          My blush roasted even hotter, fueled by exasperation. “Harvey has a bucket mouth.”

          “So you’ve mentioned before. Do you think this is a good idea after what happened last time?”

          I aimed my index finger at Doc. “Let’s get something straight here. It’s nobody’s business but mine which houses I contract to sell.”

          Having sex with me didn’t give Doc the right to question my actions, especially if sex wasn’t going to become a hobby for us.

          He raised a brow. “Maybe so, but you do tend to have a nose for trouble.”

          “Leave my nose out of this.”

          “But it’s a cute nose.”

          My libido sat up and panted for more. “Quit trying to distract me with your flirting.”

          “Is it working?”

          “No.” I glanced away from his dark chocolate eyes before my underwear caught fire.

          “Then why is your cute little nose twitching?”

          We both knew why, for the same reason I was rotten at playing poker.

          I heard footfalls going up the stairs. The inspector was heading north, probably into the attic.

          Sighing, I rubbed my forehead. There were so many questions I wanted to ask Doc, so many answers I needed to know about us—if there even was an “us.” But baring my soul like that, risking the ultimate rejection, scared the living daylights out of me. “So, let me guess. You think my selling the Carhart place is a bad idea?”

          “If that’s the albatross, then yes.”

          “Because it will add further damage to my already tarnished reputation?”

          “Partly.”

          I stared at him, waiting to hear what the other part was to his reasoning. When he didn’t elaborate, I nodded about nothing. “Okay, then. Your opinion has been heard. Shall we head upstairs to see how Mr. Inspector is doing?”

          I didn’t wait for an answer, moving past Doc toward the main stairs.

          “Violet.” He caught my arm, stopping me.

          I looked over my shoulder at him. The grin was gone from his face, a furrowed brow in its place. “What?”

          “This could be dangerous.”

          “Are we still talking about the Carhart house?”

          “Yes.” His frown deepened. “And no.”

          I glared. I couldn’t help it. It was that or pinch him. “Have I ever told you how much I adore the way you speak in riddles?” I tugged my arm free and tightened the belt to my dress. “I mean, really, is this some kind of special torture you save just for me? Because I certainly don’t see you spinning Harvey in circles.”

          “I spin you in circles?”

          A fresh dew of anger coated my skin. I dropped the professional veneer. “Yes, damn it. You do. With this whole hot-for-me one moment and then cold-as-a-glacier the next. I’m beginning to think I’m just some kind of plaything for you. A little toy to keep you from getting bored.”